Just recently, more than any other topic, buyers and browsers in our galleries have wanted to chat about the now legendary sale of the Qianlong reticulated vase that set the world record price for a Chinese work of art. Though far eastern material is not our primary stock in trade, we do a fair old business in it, and, more than anything, with the numbers of dealers internationally becoming rather thinner on the ground with each passing day, we necessarily find ourselves the recipients of waves of information, some of it occasionally accurate.

What we had heard rumoured, but now confirmed, is that the still unnamed buyer for the vase has not, five months on from the sale, actually paid for the piece. The auction house reputedly is confident payment will be forthcoming in the fullness of time, and that, in the course of business, five months is not an unreasonable length of time for settlement. Presumably they must have not only a different class of trading partners than we do, but also a different banking relationship. Moreover, the occasional auction purchases that we make, if not settled within a (very limited) window, will immediately bring on some rather strident dunning notices from the salesroom.

The flip side of this is, auction houses, even in the best of times have a fair cadre of erstwhile buyers who renege on purchases. The why of this is not surprising, given the frequent incidence of so-called auction fever, where the novice and not so novice buyers get carried away in a pitch of bidding, only to find that, after the hammer has fallen to them, they’ve spent more than they can afford, or, on leaving the salesroom, are stricken with buyer’s remorse, and decide, once the invoice arrives, to DK.

Specific to the famed vase, however, I’ve heard an interesting notion explaining the non, or at least yet to materialize, payment. That is, with a Chinese art market still on the rise, it could be the erstwhile buyer is speculating on a rise in price over and above what he paid in November. Could be that the auction house is functioning, albeit reluctantly, as a clearing house, with settlement to come when the piece is ultimately resold. Let’s watch and see, shall we?

A brief Facebook exchange about the coronation portrait of Elizabeth I put me in mind of the importance of brand identification- hardly a new phenomenon and something that was used effectively by the woman who was happy to be lauded as Gloriana. That she was also known as the virgin queen was certainly reinforced, along with its attended benefits, by rigorously controlled visual imagery.

It’s been assumed with the absence of realism in Tudor portraiture that Renaissance painting techniques were late in arriving in England. Frankly, as pictures of Elizabeth had nothing to do with the real, but everything to do with the image, realism could at best only function to diminish a personage whose attributes were required to be superhuman. Not just her court, but Parliament itself drafted a resolution that only authorized images of the queen could be allowed- and, of course, all of them portraying virtuously favorable, if not photo realistic, aspects of the monarch. One portrait from the 1570’s includes as a major iconographic feature a sieve held by the queen- it was proof of the chastity of the vestal virgins who tended the sacred flame in Rome, to carry water in a sieve from the Tiber. And so it was, in this sieve portrait so-called, with the sanctity of the British state directly linked with the virginity of the monarch, just as the sanctity of the vestals was integral to the stability of the Roman Empire.

Not that images of Elizabeth are all politically inward looking, with the ‘Armada’ portrait clearly international and imperial. With the victory over the Spanish fleet grimly depicted in the background, an Elizabeth reduced almost to caricature has her hand placed on a globe. That it covers Spanish dominions in the Americas, of course, is no accident. Moreover, she is festooned with elaborate ropes of pearls- the jewel of the sea- indicating that her sovereignty has displaced that of Spain in the oceans as well as on land. Also, pearls were a symbol of purity- yet again, a reference to Elizabeth’s chastity, clearly linking her own virginity with not only a successful reign, but success in the defense of the realm from an aggressor- and portending an imperial future for England.

From caricature to the fantastic, the Ditchley portrait was commissioned by Sir Henry Lee in anticipation of Elizabeth’s visit to his Oxfordshire seat of Ditchley.  This portrait of the 1590’s- late in the queen’s reign- places her image on a map of England, with her foot, coincidentally, roughly atop Oxfordshire. She is linked thereby as the human embodiment of the nation, with the sun over her right shoulder signifying her glory, and the thunderstorm over her left signifying her power. Here, again, the ropes of pearls around her neck- never is she without a symbol of the virtue in her virginity. It has often been noted that the queen was vain of her appearance, and sought, witness her continual succession of often substantially younger favorites, to seem sexually desirable. Though doubtless Henry Lee sought to curry favor with his sovereign, the Ditchley portrait nevertheless depicts a woman whose face at least is somewhat withered and lined with age.

We’re pleased to share a few recent acquisitions and featured items. Of particular note is the exquisite pair of George III period gilt and satinwood pier tables- of fine quality, and of unusually large size. The detail, skill in execution, and fine timber quality all suggest an attribution to an excellent maker, probably Gillows of Lancaster. Although in their original incarnation, these pieces would doubtless have been paired with equally impressive mirrors, we find clients these days frequently use pier tables to place beneath important artwork, with such a juxtaposition contributing status to both the pier tables- and the artwork. Please take a look at all the items featured and, while you are at it, browse our site for a complete list of what we have in stock. Don’t see what you are after? Please ask- special requests are what we live for!

While London with its curving short streets and impossible numbering may seem a classic example of what I’ve heard termed urban organicism, the development of a number of its squares is surprisingly well planned.  What put me in mind of this was my mention, a blog entry or two ago, of 6, Fitzroy Square, a terrace house in a square designed by Robert Adam. What’s not a well known aspect of Adam’s working life was that of a real estate developer, along with his brothers James and William. His Adelphi development along the Thames near the Strand, of which almost nothing survives, consisted of riverside warehouses below with domestic terrace housing above. With the Thames at that time very much a working river, and the riverside bays designed to handle items of commerce, the Adelphi development was conceived as a live-work space, not unlike, albeit then a bit grittier, similar developments today.

But of course, practicality is only a single feature of any real estate development, with aesthetics and snob appeal functioning more than anything else to yield it remunerative to the developer. The growth of the middle class in the 18^th century, and it was mostly the middle class that lived in terrace housing, the desire to imitate their aristocratic betters was often met with their ability to purchase, if not a country seat, than something in their own urban environment that at least mimicked a stately home. Using Fitzroy Square as an example, Adam, and any number of other developers, met the aspirational need of the rising middle class with the development of the palace fronted terrace. With all manner of fashionable Palladian influences, from rusticated ground floors to tripartite windows, and in this instance faced with expensive Portland stone, the southerly range of Fitzroy Square certainly resembles the façade of a stately home- ignoring, of course, the large number of front doors that marked every several bays as the entrance to an individual dwelling.

Aristocrats themselves were clearly not put off by the notion of this, with Fitzroy Square itself using the family name of the Dukes of Grafton. The Fitzroy family did then, and does now over two centuries on, own the freehold on a considerable amount of the surrounding real estate. Their near neighbors, the Russell family, were at the same time likewise letting leases for the development of some of their London real estate- places like Russell Square and Bedford Square were the result. If you’ve not heard of the Russell family, you might know them better as the Dukes of Bedford. Their family seat of Woburn Abbey is to a great extent maintained out of the rents the family receives from their London holdings.

Although less vaunted in design and materials than its near neighbor, Bedford Square nevertheless fared a bit better than Fitzroy Square. With the death of Robert Adam, and the economic depression brought on by the Napoleonic Wars, only the east and south ranges of the square were completed by the Adam brothers, with the west and north ranges- faced with less expensive stucco- completed later in the 19^th century. Until the last 20 years or so, Fitzroy Square was the centre of a louche, bohemian neighborhood, whose iconoclastic residents included Virginia Woolf and George Bernard Shaw. The infamous house on Cleveland Street, the male brothel whose denizens inadvertently helped to bring about the downfall of Oscar Wilde, is just one street away from the square.