It’s interesting the response my blog from a couple of days ago engendered, mostly to the extent that, times being as difficult as they are, the antiques dealers and shows that survive will be those that are serious about not just the traditional trade, but how they adhere to good business practice, including listening and being responsive to their customers.

We’ve all had the experience of dealing with the merchant or service provider who, when questioned about some sort of bizarre practice, rejoined with ‘Well, we’ve always done it this way.’ My general supposition, heretofore, that the employee who gives such an answer either is not very bright or is poorly trained, generally forces me to ask for someone higher up in the chain of command who can explain the rationale behind something ostensibly rather arcane, inexplicable, and possibly offensive. Certainly in our own business, we would hate to find we had inadvertently given offense with the effect of running away custom.

Oddly, though, we’ve found that within the trade, up to this very instant, the snotty factor still prevails, with certain dealers, rather than grateful for every sale like the rest of us, feel as though they are doing their punters a favor by condescending to sell to them. Astonishing. We find this even amongst colleagues, whose inventory we might have a client for. Believe me, what we have is for sale to anyone- collector, interior designer, or another dealer. With all that, I had a conversation with a dealer yesterday who is known to be seriously on the ropes, about a piece he had that might work for one of our clients. Rather than welcoming my inquiry, he told me robustly for about five minutes how fortunate I was that he had this piece of goods that I could then offer to someone else and make some money on.

Trying times, and presumably everyone is getting some sort of comeuppance and needs to get his own back,  but what with everyone scrambling for business, how much time and/or money is a buyer going to spend with any merchant who is unpleasant in demeanor, offers unreasonable terms, or whose merchandise is overpriced? Still, this frequently describes a fair number of people in the trade. Mystifying.

The Antiques Trade Gazette is reporting that two bronzes sold at the YSL-Pierre Bergé sale last month are at the center of a cultural repatriation controversy. The bronzes, two zodiacal figures that formed part of the water clock looted from a Chinese palace by English forces in the Opium Wars of the mid- 19th century, were bid for successfully by a dealer in China for €28,000,000- nearly 10% of the sale total- who now says his winning bid was an effort to prevent the pieces from going elsewhere, other than repatriation to China. The bidder says he has no plans to pay for the purchased lots. Will litigation ensue? Probably not for the moment, as Pierre Bergé, who along with Yves St Laurent had acquired the pieces in good faith, will just keep them. Any subsequent attempt at sale will doubtless be, shall we say, problematic.

The phenomenon of cultural icons travelling far afield from their place of origin is hardly new. Rome is spiked with obelisks looted millennia ago from Egypt. These constitute trophies of empire that achieve a different, and probably no less potent iconic status in the hands of the victor. Imperialism just doesn’t work if it isn’t accompanied by tangible symbols of the vanquished. Fortunately, Egypt seems to have been long on obelisks, as Great Britain found them handy for conspicuous imperial display, too.

It’s interesting, and pervasive, the notion that an imperial power has not only a political but also a moral right to foreign objects acquired through conquest. The notion of the white man’s burden continues to plague our own country, with our moral certainty that ancient centers of civilization have long-since de-civilized, and we are, somehow, the spiritual inheritors of the mantle of civilization- and the rightful possessors of any and all local resources including cultural artifacts. It should not be surprising that some other nations and ethnic groups- the Chinese, for instance- tend to take issue with this, and argue, reasonably enough, that they have a history of wisdom and learning many thousands of years older than ours in the west, and demand therefore the return of items taken from them during a comparative brief period in their history when they were in political turmoil. The United Nations resolution that covers stolen cultural artifacts limits claims for their repatriation to only 50 years from the time of their purported theft. The Chinese government, representing as it does one of the world’s oldest nation-states, and now one of the world’s strongest nation-states, is unwilling to accept that, for purposes of repatriation, the statute has run.

Of course, not every displaced cultural artifact is a spoil of war. The Parthenon marbles in the British Museum that the Greek government seeks every minute of every day to have returned, were in fact legally purchased by Lord Elgin from the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, the then-rulers of modern-day Greece. With the support given by the British in the struggle of the Greeks for independence, it might be thought surprising that the then newly acquired Parthenon marbles were not immediately returned. But perhaps not- British ethnocentrism was never as pronounced as it was in the 19th century. That God was an Englishman there was no doubt, and the British Museum was a temple, both in appearance and function, celebrating the worldwide cultural bounty that God had given the British people.

In fairness, it is sadly in the nature of all armies to loot, but, given the recent tragedy of the Baghdad Museum, there should now exist internationally a greater sensitivity to the need for repatriation. With all that, as an American dealer in mostly English antiques, any argument for wholesale repatriation would, if carried to its logical extreme, cause me to empty my shop and return my goods to- whom? Certainly, most material that was owned by others and/or offered for sale in the trade has been acquired through regular art market channels and although representative of, is not central to, the cultural life of its country of origin. In my experience, no one has ever suggested there was anything wrong with what is essentially purchasing items that others do not esteem and selling them to those who would value them.

Still, a 50 year limitation on making a claim for repatriation doesn’t seem like a very long time, does it? I doubt that anyone will be after us about a Georgian bureau we may have acquired at a country auction, but art looted by the Nazis is still regularly making its presence known. And the Chinese bronzes? Expect to hear more about them.

The Maine Antiques Digest has announced today that one of the nation’s premier antiques shows, the Ellis Memorial Show in Boston, has been cancelled for 2009. This year would have been the 49th anniversary of the show.

While further details on the Ellis show will be forthcoming, what we do know is that internationally all shows are struggling. Interestingly, gates for many shows have lately been quite good, but the art and antiques dealers overall have fared poorly in their own galleries and, despite fair attendance, have fared poorly at shows, too. Consequently, fewer and fewer have the money to risk, and show participation even in the best of times is chancy- significant at-show sales, what every dealer hopes for, have never, ever been a sure thing.. For anyone that is involved in a cultural nonprofit, that a good gate is insufficient to guarantee success should come as no surprise. I was speaking today to my friend Anita Shanahan, whose 50 year participation in the arts in California makes her rather an expert in these matters, and she told me that, on average, any given museum, philharmonic orchestra, virtually any non-profit that charges for admission, even with maximum paid attendance, would still realize a shortfall of 40% to 50% of its operating budget. Don’t get me wrong- all antiques dealers at a show like to see plenty of attendees- so much so that we often pay for free admission for our better prospective buyers. But the attendees are not really show supporters- what they pay for, whether it is admission to a concert, an art museum, or a charity antiques show, is cheap entertainment.

In the arts, of course, donations and corporate underwriting have traditionally been considered the strongest basis for financial support. Well, you can guess where underwriting has gone just lately. Further, underwriters now more than ever, if they are offering any tangible support at all, wish to make ‘in-kind’ donations- donations of the underwriter’s own products, rather than cash, so all charities, including charity antiques shows, are increasingly strapped. With the gate providing only a modest amount of revenue and underwriting evaporating, it is the dealers upon whose backs charity shows seek to make ends meet. It is the booth rental and catalog ads, both paid by the dealers in cash, which are these days key to a charity show’s financial success.

It’s interesting, in the day and age of internet marketing, that the better antiques shows continue to be wedded to show catalogs. It would seem that, with the mountains of catalogs lately left over after shows conclude, show organizers would realize that no one wants them, and, times being the way they are, it is particularly unfair of organizers to force show dealers to subsidize an unwanted catalog. Our good friends at the Merchandise Mart in Chicago have, it seems to me, the best solution, with the production of a simple, albeit well-produced brochure that substitutes for a catalog, listing the dealers, the show floor plan, and show amenities. And, the Merchandise Mart creates a virtual catalog online, with information, including graphics and live links to websites, provided by the dealers themselves.

What becomes apparent with the cancellation of the Ellis show is that it is not just the dealers’ presence, but their financial participation that constitutes the critical component that makes the difference between a show’s financial success and continued existence- or the show’s failure. It certainly is worth the time of any charity that plans to benefit from an antiques show to rethink how they can earn money at the show, and not plan to have the antiques dealers shoulder the financial burden.

Tempus fugit, and my tempus is particularly fugit, because what I used to dismiss as just old furniture has become antique. Using the 100 year rule- and what is good enough for US Customs and Immigration is good enough for me- a piece created in 1909 is now, officially, antique.

Mind you, plenty of this material still does look like used furniture, but some rather venerable names were producing phenomenal furniture in the first few decades of this century. It is worth bearing in mind that Francois Linke and Paul Sormani are 20th century furniture names whose evocations of 18th century French antiques are, in terms of quality, at least as fine as the originals.

Quality is everything, and whether newly conceived Arts and Crafts pieces from Morris and Company or revivalist pieces by a French workshop, it is not just age that determines venerability- and value. Morris and Company, as Linke and Sormani, were self-consciously producing quality pieces. William Morris had made it, quite literally, a piece of social and economic theory that, when left to their own devices, craftsmen working in vernacular styles and utilizing traditional materials and methods, would, out of the sheer joy of creation, produce pieces of enduring quality. Morris, along with fellow Fabian socialists including George Bernard Shaw and Oscar Wilde, looked forward to an enlightened industrialism that enabled the working classes to achieve a dignity in their labor, along with a fair recompense. Sound familiar?

It is unfortunate that, at least in our experience, Morris is now known almost exclusively for the so-called ‘Morris chair’, an easy-armchair with an adjustable reclining back. A design not unique to Morris, it has nevertheless been applied to anything that roughly approximates the original model.

We seem to be in the midst of a revivalist episode as we speak, with interest in the English Regency period of roughly 1790 to 1830 spurred on by the Thomas Hope exhibition that originated at the Victoria and Albert Museum. Never really out of fashion, certainly on the coast the work of interior designers Tony Duquette and Billy Haines gave us the enduring phrase still favored by contemporary designers ‘Hollywood Regency.’ While we happily provide pieces of early 19th century furniture to festoon the Regency style villas of the 1930’s and late 1940’s that populate the landscape of Bel Air and Brentwood, the Regency revivalist movement of the second quarter of the last century saw the creation of carloads of reproduction furniture- some of it of pretty good quality, but most of it of the cheesiest order. It, too, will be, strictly speaking, ‘antique’ in a few decade’s time, but will it fall into the venerable category making it a worthy example of revivalism? Not likely. Save your cash for a good quality Regency piece.

Sitting as I am amidst a vortex of period mahogany furniture, the opportunity to recast it as green has a refreshing, if not downright salubrious effect. Sort of like mixing a bit of branch water with whiskey.

No question, the watchword in interior design is green, and the reuse of period material can be thought the greenest technique of all. Our discussion will avoid a consideration, naturally, of the deforestation that occurred in the first place to produce the then newly constructed pieces so prized in the 18th century. Well, we don’t wish to foster an anachronism. In the decades just following the voyages of discovery, who knew but to exploit what the explorers found- particularly if they could work to annihilation the local population to so do. Times, thank goodness, change. Mind you, I am not suggesting we build a memorial pyre and fuel it with mahogany, satinwood, and rosewood furniture, in expiation of the spoliation wrought in the 18th century- we just won’t make that mistake again.

While the use of the woods and their novel color and, in the case of satinwood and some mahoganies, near iridescence, are features that we can barely see to appreciate some 200 or more years on, the grains that were also an integral feature need be mentioned. Referred to in the trade as ‘figuring’, the grain of the wood is at least as important as its color. While reforestation and proper management have made some timbers accessible, what can’t be duplicated is the figuring found in the old growth timbers felled centuries ago. Most of my 20 or so devoted readers have heard of figured mahogany veneers descriptively named ‘flame,’ ‘plum-pudding’, and ‘fiddle-back’, but satinwood veneers, for instance, can be equally as complex. The mania for satinwood peaked in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, when it was used prodigiously in the production of Edwardian period ‘Sheraton revival’ furniture. Sadly, for all its use, the veneering patterns with their uniform striations betray a later growth satinwood, pretty but not as interesting as those timbers exploited a century or so earlier.

While period satinwood with its color and figuring should be considered a treasure worth preserving, its physical properties sometimes cause it to appear distressed when, in fact, it isn’t. It is worth bearing in mind that satinwood has always been in scarce supply and oftentimes, to accentuate its rarity and the preciosity of the furniture that utilized it as a primary timber, the secondary timber was frequently mahogany. Gillows, for instance, regularly veneered satinwood over mahogany. However, satinwood is much softer than mahogany- or nearly any other wood- and satinwood will often shrink and contract at a considerably greater rate than the secondary timber to which it is applied. Over time, veneers will lift and shrinkage cracks will appear in satinwood more than any other exotic wood. While lifting veneers can be flattened, shrinkage cracks cannot be repaired short of replacing the range of veneer- something I would not recommend. In fact, I generally look for shrinkage cracks in satinwood as an indication that the veneer is original.

With all the column inches dedicated to green design, there should be pretty general agreement that the use of period furniture is of benefit to the planet. A bit of connoisseurship might be engendered, as well, with the realization by contemporary generation of acquisitors that new furniture while it might be able to replicate the outline of period pieces, cannot duplicate their color and figuring.