Throwing out the baby with the bath water

With all the cautioning I’ve done about buying items with condition problems, this post might seem contradictory.  There are some things I’ve bought and sold that have been absolute wrecks.  And I don’t mean just things I’ve flipped to dealers or put through auction because they were bought so cheap; I mean objects that because of their extreme rarity, great provenance, or historical importance, could be forgiven their damage.

Yesterday, for example, I bid on a tall chest of drawers with replaced feet including the base molding, splices to the rear stiles of the paneled ends, new brass, two replaced drawer fronts, and a multitude of drawer lip repairs.  I didn’t bid at a level where I could have sent it to an auction or sold it to a dealer, I bid what I thought was real money, and apparently was competitive enough to underbid it.  I don’t know what I would have done with it, but I would have been happy enough to just own it.  No one I’ve talked to has ever heard of a paneled end Chester County tall chest in figured maple.  With a lot of the original surface on the top, the cornice, and one end no less.  It’s quite possibly the only one, and deserves to be restored properly and valued despite what a wreck it is currently.  I’m sure it probably made it into the hands of someone who will do that.

For another recent example, look at the line and berry chest that sold at Pook & Pook last weekend.  It’s probably not necessary to really harp on what these objects would have been worth if they were fairly straight, but if there’s a few people reading who aren’t sure, let’s go ahead and do that anyway.  Line and berry inlaid furniture is an early, beautiful, important class of objects made in Southeastern Pennsylvania that represents a probably unique use of the technique in America.  There is an obsessive group of collectors just for it, and a lot of other people who recognize it’s beauty and importance and want at least one representative piece in their broader collection.  Any chest of drawers with line and berry decoration is rare.  The degree of ornamentation can vary from one drawer front with a few rectilinear lines with two vines and berries, to chests of drawers like the aforementioned one with fully decorated drawer fronts and, extremely rarely, a decorated top.

I don’t want to get into a big analysis of the marketplace for this tradition, but I would have thought that this chest with only minor condition issues would be worth at least $125,000 and depending on what issues and the surface, maybe 30-50% more.  It brought less than half of that.  It does need some work.  I didn’t go over it because I wasn’t a buyer for it, but it looked like it needed feet, a lot of moldings, and the top to be reset.  Feet you basically have to expect with these chests.  They’re really old – like 270 years old.  The problems with the moldings, which I won’t get into here, were somewhat offensive.  They do affect the facade of the chest – but they can be fixed to where 99% of the people looking at it won’t even know they’re wrong.  I would usually say that a bargain is usually an object that is right as rain and so good that many people would just have to own it.  But I would say that the line and berry chest was really kind of a bargain, and so are many things of that level of importance with a number of “problems”.

I’m not encouraging anyone to go buy as many relics as they can tomorrow.  But I would say that people collect for all different sorts of reasons, and depending on why they collect, condition can be a less important factor for certain objects.  I collect region (Delaware), rarity (one outstanding example of a craftsman’s work rather than 20 mediocre ones), and provenance (signatures, original bills of sale, family histories of ownership).  Condition is not always a priority for me, and there are a few items that still haunt me because I threw the baby out with the bath water.  That is to say, I let myself become puritanical with regards to condition – it’s fashionable and it saves money – and forgot what a rare thing I was looking at.  A Sussex County Queen Anne dining table, one of the best signed and dated chests of drawers from the McDowell school.  When will I see one again?

So, when you see a great and rare thing, that fits your collecting goals and is represented honestly and priced appropriately, buy it.  It may be more money than anyone else in the world wants to spend on it, but we are all end users for something, and even if the marketplace doesn’t reward you, the pride of ownership in something that is just right for you will more than make up for it.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

As the U.S. Military puts this moniker behind them, scores of dealers and auctioneers continue to use a different version that helps make their operations profitable.  This is not a new phenomena, but rather a historically standard practice for a large segment of the antiques trade.

I recently sold a really small New England Queen Anne drop-leaf table that, upon semi-close examination, was not what it appeared to be.  The top wasn’t right – probably made up out of old boards but pretty well done.  Traces of a former coat of robin’s egg blue paint seemed to tie the top and base together from birth, but this is an old, albeit very clever, faker’s trick.  A marriage in uniform original surface is a paradox.  By necessity they are almost always refinished, or sometimes one part has had a fake surface applied, which is generally not all that hard to identify.  But if the faker initiates the marriage, skins both pieces, then coats the whole in blue paint, then refinishes it, the traces of the “original” blue paint could be used to lead the inexperienced astray.  One day I promise to take some extensive photographs of something like this and walk through it here.  Anyway, what does this have to do with “Don’t ask, Don’t tell”?  Well, the problems with the table were clearly written (even underlined for emphasis) on my label for it, and were documented on the sales slip.  The table was under a thousand bucks, and the buyer had a perfect place in her home for it.  It was a decorative table, for a decorative price, and everyone was happy.  No one had to ask, the assets as well as the liabilities of the table were out in the open for everyone to read.

I bought the table at an auction of a mixed bag collection from California that was formed in the 1940s and 1950s.  Just like my label for the table, the catalog accurately described the table for what it was.  The collectors had kept pretty good records of their purchases, keeping some correspondence from Sack and other top dealers, and some from people I had never heard of.  The table was accompanied by a letter from one of the latter, but it sure was a fun read.  Digging around in the warehouse the other day, I found the letter that accompanied the table when I bought it.  Let me summarize it this way:  “I hope you’re enjoying the little table I sold you.  It’s a wonderful thing and it’s so rare and I wish I had it back.  I only know of one other and it sold for a lot more money.  Looking forward to doing more business with you in the future!”  When the collectors bought the table roughly 60 years ago, they didn’t ask, and the dealers they bought it from didn’t tell.

This might be a little harder to get away with for dealers in the information age where there are very few secrets and good gossip tends to get out quickly, but next we’ll look at how this technique is used by it’s most zealous and effective practitioners, auctioneers.

The Fall Show Season Begins

It’s been a busy couple of weeks and I’ve been an awful blogger. I’m just finishing a three week marathon of back-to-back-to-back shows, and am looking forward to a little break and a long drive to an out of the way auction.

Two weeks ago (it feels like two months), was the earthquake/hurricane week and the Baltimore Show. I shared a booth and supplied a few pieces of furniture, some paintings, and some decorative accessories. I bought my way out, but only sold one thing. I think I underestimated the possibility of selling a good piece of American furniture or folk art, and therefore didn’t take anything like that. It was definitely encouraging to see that a weathervane, 19th century American School paintings, and period furniture could sell at that show, but I have yet to decide whether I’ll go back. It is a huge show with a stressful packout and a lot of rules. It’s a strong buying opportunity, but for the cost that might not be enough to coax me back next year.

Last week was the Labor Day edition of Butch Arion’s York Show, a show that has consistently been good for me, but this time around was very good to great. I bought well, sold well, and made a few sales to new customers. Overall it seemed like a bit of a mixed bag, but there were more dealers who did really well than those who did poorly. Even more encouraging was the variety of merchandise that sold. There seemed to be more enthusiasm for good Pennsylvania furniture than in recent years, with at least three dutch cupboards selling. One old time collector tried to put that in perspective, saying that in the old days that figure would have been multiplied ten times. That may be true, but ask any dealer how easy it is to sell double case furniture right now.

This weekend, I’m close to home at the Delaware Coast Antiques Show in Rehoboth Beach. It’s been a little below my expectations, but I’ve made money and did buy a couple of interesting local things for my collection. It’s a nice little old fashioned show with a diverse mix of dealers, and it’s getting a little better every year. I left most of my load on from York, instead of opting for a more inexpensive, half English, booth. It’s worked out okay, and I think there are more people here who understand real American things than I had previously thought – even if they’re not buying much anymore.

When this show is over (in about two hours) I’ll pack out, spend the next two days unloading, making deliveries, and picking up my purchases from all the auctions I couldn’t attend over the last five days, then get out on the road and hit the next round of sales late this week. That should give me some spare time to be more prompt with my next post.

Beating the Game 2011 (Part 3)

So you’re convinced that it’s of vital importance to buy from the right dealers, that’s the easy part. There are a lot of people in the antiques business who should be dealt with carefully, and very few who can be absolutely trusted. There are some who just don’t really have a clue about antiques, others who are willfully dishonest, and still more who might not mislead you, but certainly will not volunteer any negative information unless they are asked specific questions.

Figuring out whether the dealer fits into any one of the aforementioned categories might be the easiest first step to determining whether you want to buy from them. Ask questions. It doesn’t have to look like a deposition, but ask specific questions in the course of the conversation.

Are the feet right?
Clueless: Oh yes, this came out of an old family and I’m sure there’s never been anything done to it.
Dishonest: Of course.
Selectively Honest: They look okay to me but you’re welcome to look for yourself.
Trustworthy: Yes, let me flip it over and show you why.

How do you know it’s from Philadelphia?
Clueless: That’s how it was sold to me. It came from an old Philadelphia family.
Dishonest: I’ve been doing this for thirty years, I just know it when I see it.
Trustworthy: The two part glue blocks, the secondary woods, the through tenons, the following stylistic features.

What makes you think it’s circa 1750 rather than, say 1760?
Clueless: There’s an identical one in this 80 year old reference book and they said so.
Selectively Honest: Close enough.
Trustworthy: Based on handling dozens of these, this one strikes me as slightly earlier based on a couple of points.

There are certainly some other good ways to find out about a dealer. The thing that makes a dishonest dealer money is the same thing that makes them hard to identify: they’re really good at lying. Ask a dealer you do trust about the dealer you’re considering buying from. That might seem like an awkward thing to do, but as a young dealer I’ve watched it happen many times. A customer looks an item over, asks for the best price, and makes a bee-line for an experienced, scrupulously honest dealer. At this point I may as well start writing the sales slip. Though some dealers might feel distrusted at this, I know that what that dealer says about me will close the sale. Any dealer with a reputation for honesty will feel the same way. The only person you stand to alienate is someone you probably didn’t want to deal with anyway.

I think that’s enough to digest for now, but there’s more to come. If you’re in the Mid-Atlantic next weekend, visit my Shows page for details on Melvin Arion’s Original York Antiques Show. It’s a great show with a variety of dealers and a no pressure atmosphere.

Antiques Week in NH (Recap)

As planned, I made it up to New Hampshire last Sunday after an okay show in Rehoboth.  The turbulent markets certainly didn’t help the dealers at any of the shows, I saw a fair amount of action in the first couple hours of every show I visited.  Both Barn Star shows were reasonably productive; I bought a handful of things at each.  Deerfield was somewhat disappointing; with another dealer riding along we only managed to put two items into the van.  Mine was a miniature blanket chest from Delaware, bought from a Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, dealer.  It’s funny how you can travel so far to buy something local from someone so familiar.

The highlights of the week were definitely the trip along Rt. 1 in Maine and the NHADA show.  The shops out along the coast are still great places to find fresh merchandise, and offer a more relaxed buying atmosphere than the frenzied opening hours of the shows.  The dealer show is one of the most enjoyable shows I’ve visited.  Fresh merch, reasonable prices, friendly and knowledgeable dealers who want to sell.  And that’s largely across the board.  There aren’t ten or twenty dealers with fresh stuff they want to move, there are sixty.  I wish I had spent all day Thursday there, but I had a long drive ahead of me and headed out around 1pm with three shopping bags packed full.  I lose money on a fair bit of what I buy, and I usually know it pretty soon after I buy it.  I don’t think any of what I bought at the NHADA show will fall into that category.

I do think the retail business was a little bit slow all week from what I saw and the dealers I talked to.  A few of my favorite things at the NHADA show were still unsold as of my departure, which was disappointing to see.  Don’t get me wrong, there were many dealers at that show in particular that had sold a quarter to half of their booth by the time I left.  That being said, there were still some great buys left and I hope that more of them disappeared over the weekend.

In my next entry, I’ll return to the Beating the Game series and discuss how to judge the trustworthiness of dealers and auctioneers.

Beating the Game 2011 (Part 2): The Duncan Beard Clock

To seasoned dealers and collectors it is probably pretty obvious why I would want to talk about this article and the issues it confronts.  But for those who either are unfamiliar with the issues, or do not view them as problematic, a good example might be necessary.

The best example I can offer is one that I was personally involved in, since I am familiar with the object, the players, and the price points.  About two years ago I found a listing online for a pretty rare tall case clock, made by Duncan Beard of Appoquinimink, Delaware.  So I did something that I constantly advise customers and fellow dealers against:  I bid online without looking at the clock in person, basing my bid on the photos and condition report I requested from the auction house.  I thought that there were enough obvious problems with the clock that the discovery of more nuanced issues upon personal inspection would have a minimal effect on the value.

The case looked like a trainwreck.  Not a “pieced bonnet, missing finials, replaced feet, extended seat board” kind of trainwreck, but an Amtrak 60-mph head-on kind of trainwreck.  It looked like the entire base was new – everything below the lower waist molding.  The person I spoke with on the phone also had questions about the bonnet but was unable to determine what exactly was wrong with it.  The auctioneer specializes in clocks, and he did assure me that the works were right for the dial.  With all this taken into consideration, I figured that I was only buying a movement, and the word of an auctioneer who specializes in clocks was good enough for me in describing that part of the clock alone.

And it was.  After I bought the clock and had it trucked down, I found that the movement was in fact honest.  The case was another story, just as the auctioneer had described.  It was the right case, but it was really rough.  The entire base was new, and the hood was a tough call.  One side had an overcoat of stain and lack of honest color that indicated that it, at least, was new, and caused me to doubt the whole hood.  Having the cabinet work done on it was not an option.  To have it done right would have cost upwards of $15,000.  That was a lot more than I had paid for the clock (that is, the movement), and given all of the restoration that would still have to be explained, it just wasn’t worth having done.  It was a relic, albeit a pretty rare one.

Six hours after picking the clock up, I flipped it for a reasonable profit.  The next price point was a pretty big jump.  The clock was consigned to a local auctioneer, and sold for $34,100.  I haven’t gotten into the numbers yet, and I don’t really want to go much further into it, but let’s just say that thirty grand was a lot more than I had sold it for, and a lot more than it was worth.  A local collector bought it, and as far as I know he didn’t have any dealer look at it for him.  If he did, he definitely didn’t consult a “top flight” one as Sack suggests.  The price was probably justified under the flawed mode of evaluation mentioned in Sack’s article, where an average (in this case pretty poor given the condition) example is compared to vastly superior examples by the same maker that have brought upwards of $50,000 over the last decade.

A prime example of why consulting a knowledgeable and experienced dealer is vital when a collector considers a major purchase.  Despite the danger of ending up one of the many collectors who have been harpooned at auction, I can foresee a few points that might give a collector pause in consulting a dealer, and those will be the topic of my next post.

Beating the Game 2011 (Part 1)

Last week I returned from visiting a dealer eager to look into a fabulous Chester County tea table with the best stance and untouched surface.  He told me it was pictured in the Sack volumes, so I quickly plopped the neat 10 volume stack on my kitchen counter and sat down at the table to find it.  Along the way I came across an article that I hadn’t read in years, about a subject that bothers me almost every day.  For part one of this series of posts, I’m going to simply print the article in its entirety; it stands on it’s own as a great piece of writing that anyone seriously interested in antiques should carefully ponder.

Beating the Game

In our experience there has never been a successful collection formed without the guidance of a top flight dealer, either in the capacity of adviser or as a direct source of supply and outright purchase.

The value of the profession is threefold: (1) to judge authenticity, (2) to judge quality, and (3) to determine value.

The ability to judge quality and to determine value is predicated not only on his innate good judgment and taste but also on the range of objects he has seen and compared.

Rating an antique as to its comparative quality can only be judged against the whole panorama of the field. Attempting to compare it to illustrated examples covers only a small portion of extant pieces. Our photographic files and the thousands of examples we have handled over 60 years of specialization gives us a panorama which has vital significance. Furthermore pricing based on quality and authenticity is measured by an active marketing experience.

Comparing prices by form and type alone can be very misleading. There is a tremendous price range between an exceptional example of a particular form and an average example. We have seen many of our customers hopelessly overpay for an average example by comparing its lower price elsewhere to one of our top drawer pieces.

For some strange reason the very executive who would not think of making a judgment without the advice of either a top tax man, accountant or legal counselor in his own field will blithely enter a strange field and attempt to beat the expert at his own game. This of course may be fun and recreation at low level prices, but in today’s current market, the price of this challenge can become extremely costly.

(American Antiques from Israel Sack Collection, Highland House Publishers Inc. 1974.)