notes

Without question, 2009 is a year we would like to put behind us. Not much during the course of it has not been a struggle. Oh, the taxing world of English antiques and the daily fisticuffs in the design industry. That said, we are still here, a bit older- perhaps Keith quite a bit older…

Focusing on the business of the day yesterday, I was caught up short, when, complaining that I had to interrupt whatever it was I was doing, doubtless something of great moment that I now cannot remember, to sign our holiday greeting cards. What gave me real pause, however, is our printed inscription, that in lieu of gifts to our friends, clients, and trading partners, we provide a donation to All About Care. The cocktail of drugs that has allowed some management of HIV only occludes the fact that the disease is still horribly with us and has a broader impact on families coping with the illness of a parent or child. All About Care provides outreach for this purpose entirely, with Camp Care for nearly 20 years now providing an annual retreat and spiritual respite for those whose lives continue to be disrupted.

I admire people who have patience and tenacity, and one of those who I have admired the longest is Cynthia Karraker, whose own personal response to HIV was to found All About Care and serve as its director ever since.  Her vision has seen beyond the immediate and individually personal consequences of the disease, with her outreach to those whose battles are auxiliary to those primarily afflicted- and it is these, women and children, whose plight is frequently ignored.

While we slog through to the end of the year, it is easy for me to wrap myself up in my own vicissitudes and fail to count my blessings. And, frankly, they are manifold. Between ourselves, my blessings include my relationship with Keith, despite his growing older as I write this. Consequently, I am humbled by the opportunity to extend a small portion of our blessings to All About Care.

We’ve completed upholstery on a number of soft furnishing for clients and, as we’ve worked through their completion, I can certainly attest, in the world of English antiques, it is not always what’s seen but often what one can’t that separates a good from a fine piece. The fancy show-frame portion- the mahogany legs, cresting rail, and arms- can sometimes mask an inner frame that has been much tinkered. Mind you, that the underframe has tack holes the result of innumerable reupholsterings, if it were not in worked over condition would be very much of a surprise.

What we also frequently find are the insertions of springs. With the introduction of spring metal in the early 19th century, some enterprising fellow determined that, in lieu of webbing and cane that would eventually sag, springs would provide a durable alternative. Sadly, seat rails had to be radically invaded to support the springs themselves. How often, in order to put an 18th century piece in shape, we have had to replace seat rails that would have been in good condition but for the well-meaning and misguided attention of an earlier upholsterer.

Yesterday’s blog entry prompted a few emails from loyal blogophiles who read my brief article about mirrors in California Homes. Frankly, as with a number of English antiques, a modern context has made us forget the impact that some pieces made in their own day and this certainly is the case with 18th and early 19th century mirrors.

The popularity of this form in the early 19th century says something about fashion, of course, but also about the technology that enabled something like this to be made. Indeed, it is still no easy matter, with the convexity of the glass and trimming it to a circular shape requiring no less precision now than 200 years ago. The typical placement for a convex mirror was in a position of prominence- above a fireplace mantle or in an entry foyer- reflecting as it would the totality of activity in a fairly public room. Mind you, I find peering into a convex mirror will unbalance me if carried on for more than a few seconds. Our bibulous ancestors who considered the downing of a pint of sherry as a mere refresher would certainly have had the same experience as one of their more temperate descendants.

As with a giltwood frame supporting expensive furnishing fabric, mirror glass was still sufficiently dear that it required a surround typologically worthy of it. The mirror in the caption has a frame not just gilded, but with a burnished water gilt outer and inner rim along with the interior beads, separated by a less bright non-burnished central rim. Perhaps not as well suited for seeing into, it clearly was meant to be seen.

What’s put me in mind of my blog title today is the December issue of World of Interiors. The magazine’s lead feature is a pictorial of some superb gilded English antiques offered by mostly London dealers. Frankly, I love gilding, and indeed all manner of decorated furniture. With the survival of so much mahogany from the 18th century, the common presumption is that it was all brown in the day. The Georgians loved color and the brown furniture of today was much, much brighter in color 2 or more centuries ago. However, arguably the greater proportion in most houses of the quality was painted and/or gilded furniture, carved from vernacular woods, mostly deal and beech. Surprisingly, given how mahogany gives itself to crisp carving, we have sometimes found considerable original gilding on top of mahogany.

Of course, the gilding itself in its original incarnation was meant for purposes of display. No consumption like the conspicuous variety, is there? It did serve a practical function, as well. With a number of rooms of state in use at times when the light levels were low, the gilding, sparkling and reflective, served to accentuate the furniture to which it was applied. What is not always apparent today was how varied was the gilding applied originally, with burnished water gilding picking out carved enrichments, with flat oil gilding forming a background. This would serve to enhance the relief carving of furniture that might not otherwise have been seen. Further, one forgets in the case of soft furnishings how expensive were the fabrics that covered them. The fabrics, until the very end of the century, were handed loomed of costly materials. Naturally, one would only apply exquisite furnishing fabrics to frames the show-portions of which would be of a quality commensurate with the fabrics they supported.

Having my teeth cleaned is not distinctly pleasant, but a visit to the dentist yesterday  provided a side benefit, allowing me during my outer office wait to browse a couple of magazines including the December issue of Vogue. Well, this is San Francisco… My perusal uncovered an advert featuring a well-known and beloved media person fronting for a line of cosmetics, posing the rhetorical question whether one wished to grow older or be thought ageless. Clearly the ad wasn’t directed to me, as I like being older. Life seems wonderfully compensatory in that regard, for that inevitable diminution in pulchritude is made up for by a comfortability of existing in one’s own skin including confidence in one’s taste and judgment. Frankly, that’s an aspect of our antiques business that we find consonant with our own outlook: everything ages but that it does time itself imparts a tangible dynamism.

Or might do…What seems to ameliorate any kind of ability to age is the unwillingness to. The irony is, a body’s conceit of oneself then becomes occluded, yielding a fair number of people whose age defying efforts result in effects not unlike those of Baby Jane Hudson. Baby Jane is a great metaphor, given the sadly still surviving efforts of some in the trade to fudge or tart up pieces of period furniture. ‘Unknown to nature’ is a phrase equally applicable to the color of a lady or gentleman’s coiffure or a breakfront bookcase. Best leave things alone and let time make an honest declaration.

And that is what makes anything- antiques, artwork, people- au courant, not that it or they aren’t growing older, but have achieved through time a classicism, becoming exemplars of age. We believe that about what we offer, that pieces will speak to our clients, as they have to us, as not only aesthetically pleasing, but, as with all things classic, enduring and iconic touchstones.