Giants Fan Fest

Reminded on the news this morning that today’s the official kickoff of the Giants season with their annual Fan Fest at AT&T Park, in its honor I wore my only bit of orange and black outerwear, an old Burberry shirt that has yet to make it to the rag bag.  For once, it turned out I made the right decision, as riding to the galleries this morning on Muni, those handful of people not garbed in team colors were, shall we say, conspicuous.

Giants mania is hardly a local phenomenon, unless you wish to consider a fan radius of 500 miles local. Astonishing the numbers of people who traveled just that far to queue up for today’s event. For those very few of you who may be looking down your toffee noses about this sort of thing, I can only say you must not have watched even 30 seconds of either the Giants playoff or World Series performance. For those of us in San Francisco, the link goes much, much deeper, with the Giants players and the Giants organization deeply connected with what goes on here. Clearly, fan loyalty is reciprocated by at least an equivalent in kind factor. No greater expression of that mutuality of regard can be imagined than that of the Giants World Series victory parade. It was my privilege to watch it just around the corner from our galleries, and the photos we took I’m happy to reprise on our Facebook page. Click here to view the album.

Suzanne Rheinstein

We were pleased to have a few minutes yesterday with our good friend Suzanne Rheinstein, in town in advance of her book signing and launch of an additional range in her fabric line at Lee Jofa. For the few of you who don’t know Suzanne, reading her newly published book,  At Home: A Style for Today with Things from the Past will provide an accurate portrayal of the lady and her talent. ‘Accurate’ may sound prosaic, but in this age of media flim flam and depth limited only to the 140 character limit on Twitter, knowledge that something accords completely with one’s own experience is refreshing. With all the concomitant promotion of Suzanne just at the moment, the lady remains her usual demure self. She apologized to us yesterday for her lack of vivacity, due in part to fatigue from a recent trip. I shouldn’t wonder, as that jaunt included stops in Umbria, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives.

We first became aware of Suzanne through our acquaintanceship with her good friend, the redoubtable author and style  journalist Julia Reed.  It is said that one is known by the company one keeps, and in Suzanne’s case, our mutual friendship with remarkable designers Courtnay Daniels and Joe Nye further proves the old saying certainly axiomatic.

Not so very long ago, we had been to a small party at the house in Hancock Park Suzanne shares with her no less remarkable husband Fred. It was informal and jolly as are all the functions Fred and Suzanne host, with plenty of places to sit, stand, and room to mingle. In usual fashion, a buffet supper was served, but its service was a seamless adjunct, and not an interruption, to a convivial evening. Guests with plates of delicious jambalaya-a nod to Suzanne’s New Orlean’s roots- continued on with conversations seated throughout the house and on the stair treads. By way of a thank you, we had given Suzanne a small porcelain tureen that had once belonged to John Gielgud. Although really just a kickshaw, the provenance, while just by the by, caused the ever forthright Suzanne to warn us ‘You know, I always use my things.’ Well, of course, and that’s one of many aspects that makes Suzanne’s designs so wonderful- while dignified and genteel, there is yet a manifest comfortability that makes them always appealing, both to look at and to enjoy. And with Suzanne, we’ve had the good fortune to discover this first hand.

Soft furnishings, redux

During our tenure in the trade, we’ve sold lots of period soft furnishings, with the earliest in date a pair of late 17th century back stools, with needlework upholstery. Nicer to look at than sit upon, but then, the chairs were going into an entry hall, so to look at was functionally more important than to sit upon.

With all that, the received wisdom seems to be generally that period soft furnishings will be rickety at best and always uncomfortable. Keith and I had blithely surmised that, if something were comfortable, it would have been sat on so frequently, therefore, that it would have worn out long since and been discarded. Consequently, it was only the uncomfortable pieces that survived. Perhaps there’s some truth to this, but the fact is, save that pair of backstools,  every piece of soft furnishings we’ve handled- chairs, stools, settees, and sofas- have all been comfortable, and, as much as a modern piece, will stand up to daily use. The joints can be tightened, the horsehair padding can be made more cushion-y with a layer or two of dacron (parenthetic note to collectors- never, ever remove or discard the horsehair padding!), and the result is frequently nothing less than stunning.

Recent Acquisitions for January 2011

To start the new year, we hope to pique your interest with a selection of newly acquired pieces. Looking around us just now, we nearly need skyhooks to sandwich in all our stock.

We must be wishing for a strong economy in the new year. Anything you can’t live without?

Browse our site, as well, and if you don’t see precisely what you are after, ask us!

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The Day After…

With my parents on the train homeward and the dishwasher laboring, I’ve a brief opportunity to review the day’s events. And I can happily say that Christmas Day was gloriously uneventful. The roast duck was everything it should be- moist and flavorful on the inside, with crispy skin without. The braised cabbage was about the tastiest I’ve ever had, and all of this preceded by my favorite starter, potted shrimps. Mind you, these might have been improved with brown shrimps from Morecombe Bay, but what we had was pretty damn fine, to quote a transplanted Yorkshireman- he knows who he is. All of this was served upon a George III period mahogany dining table, of course I had to work that in, with the iridescent timber of the table articulating perfectly with the silver cutlery and china service.

Frankly, getting out the serving pieces that hadn’t seen the light of day for a year, the Irish linen likewise hidden away, and employing them to add to the enjoyment of our yuletide feast was about as much fun as I’ve had in a long while. What happens, and maybe this is a side benefit of getting older, was that I could muse on the other times these items have been used, earlier Christmases, fabulous dinner parties that were events in themselves, and, as my silver and Irish linen are heirlooms, the enjoyment my grandparents and their friends got out of them. This may be overstating things, but I don’t think so, that objects, precious though inanimate, do become iconic in the possession of those who can feel their iconic properties.

And, of course, my own use adds to their spiritual energy. That’s by way of saying the more beloved objects are used, the more they are enjoyed. With all that, one of my wishes this holiday season is that next year sees the silver out of its canteen with much, much greater frequency, and the dining table functions not just as an adjunct of the dining room, but becomes as it should be the center of all-occasion conviviality.