The Trouble With Angels and Antiques

THE TROUBLE WITH ANGELS AND TRYING TO RELATE THE STORY OF DIVINE INTERVENTION

A LIFE-LONG JOURNEY TO FIND THE ANGEL OF MY DREAMS

     I HAVE TIED THIS STORY INTO ABOUT A DOZEN OTHER BLOGS OVER THE PAST FIVE YEARS. I HAVE NEVER LOST THE ETHEREAL SENSATION, AND OTHER-WORLDLINESS, AFTER MY DREAM EXPERIENCE WITH AN ANGEL. I MOST RECENTLY INCLUDED THE STORY OF THIS DREAMY-TIME MEETING, DURING A MULIT-BLOG FEATURE SERIES, ABOUT MY OLD HOMETOWN OF BURLINGTON, ONTARIO, WHICH RAN QUITE SUCCESSFULLY….IN TERMS OF READERSHIP, LATE LAST SPRING. THE RECOLLECTIONS ARE FROM THE LATE 1950'S INTO ABOUT 1964, WHEN WE LIVED AT THE NAGY APARTMENT BUILDING, AT 2138 HARRIS CRESCENT, UP THE TORRANCE AVENUE HILL, AND LESS THAN A BLOCK FROM LAKE ONTARIO. I LOVED THE SOUND OF FOG HORNS IN THE MORNING WHEN I WAS WALKING TO SCHOOL. I DIGRESS. I'M TRULY SORRY. IT HAPPENS AT MY AGE, AMONG OTHER THINGS EQUALLY ANNOYING. OR SO SAYS MY CHARMING BUT IMPATIENT BRIDE.

     THIS BLOG SERIES IS ABOUT ANTIQUE HUNTING AND COLLECTING, AND ALL THE THINGS AND EVENTS THAT HAVE SHAPED THIS DEALER / COLLECTOR SINCE CHILDHOOD…….AS THIS IS WHEN IT ALL BEGAN. AS MY PURPOSE, AT MY STAGE OF LIFE, IS TO CREATE A BIOGRAPHY FOR MY TWO BOYS, I FEEL I HAVE TO INCLUDE SOME OF MY ODD-BALL STORIES, THAT MAY SEEM OUT OF PLACE, AT FIRST GLANCE……BUT IN REALITY, ARE VERY MUCH IMBEDDED IN THIS HULK OF A BODY, PUT ON EARTH TO HUNT ELUSIVE ANTIQUES…..AND THEN WRITE ABOUT THE ADVENTURES.

     MY MOTHER MERLE USED TO MEET ME AT THE DOOR OF THE APARTMENT, DEMANDING THAT I EMPTY MY POCKETS OF FOUND COLLECTIBLES, INCLUDING LIVESTOCK. I USED TO BRING HOME CRICKETS BECAUSE WALT DISNEY MADE THEM SO MAGICAL……IT THOUGHT THEY ALL WERE. MY POOR FATHER HATED THE CHIRPING OF CRICKETS, AND USED TO GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR SEARCHING FOR THEIR HIDING PLACES. THE CRICKETS DIED OF OLD AGE BEFORE HE FOUND THEM. AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT PREVIOUSLY, SO I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR BORING YOU (IF YOU'RE READ THIS BEFORE), I HAD PERIODS OF MY YOUTH WHEN I WOULD BE SICK FOR WEEKS, EVEN MONTHS AT A TIME. I WASN'T SUFFERING FROM ANY PARTICULAR DISEASE, AS SUCH, BUT I SEEMED TO GET WHACKED PRETTY HARD BY COLDS AND INFLUENZA, THAT WOULD SINK INTO MY LUNGS, AND GIVE ME THAT "NAGGING COUGH," YOU HEAR ABOUT ON COLD REMEDY COMMERCIALS. THEY WERE OF ATOMIC STRENGTH UNFORTUNATELY. I HAD BEEN SUFFERING FROM A WICKED COUGH AFTER A LONG BOUT WITH THE FLU, AND I CAN REMEMBER HAVING TO SLEEP SITTING UP IN AN ARMCHAIR IN THE LIVING-ROOM. EVERY TIME I COUGHED I WAS SICK TO MY STOMACH. I COULDN'T HOLD ANYTHING DOWN, AND I MUST HAVE LOST A FAIR BIT OF WEIGHT, BECAUSE I OVERHEARD MY MOTHER TALKING TO ANOTHER LADY FRIEND IN THE APARTMENT……WHICH I REMEMBER INCLUDED THE STATEMENT, "IF HE'S NOT BETTER IN THE MORNING, WE'RE TAKING HIM TO THE HOSPITAL." I WASN'T UPSET BY THAT AT ALL, BECAUSE I WAS FEELING WRETCHED, AND ANYTHING THAT WOULD HAVE RELIEVED THIS PAIN, COULD ONLY BE CONSIDERED MERCIFUL.

     IT WAS A BAD NIGHT. MERLE KEPT PUTTING COLD CLOTHS ON MY FOREHEAD, BECAUSE I WAS FEVERED. I DIDN'T FEEL FEVERED BUT SHE WAS DUTIFUL ABOUT IT, AND NEVER LEFT MY SIDE THE WHOLE NIGHT, EXCEPT TO GO TO THE BATHROOM. IT WAS  PROBABLY AT THE PEAK OF THE FEVER, THAT I WENT INTO THIS STRANGE DREAMLAND…….THE MOST COMPELLING ONE I'VE EVER EXPERIENCED. THE COMMONPLACE OF THE DREAMSCAPE, WAS THAT THE BACKDROP WAS THE APARTMENT LAUNDRY ROOM, WHICH WAS IN THE BASEMENT OF THE NAGY APARTMENTS…….DOWN A SMALL FLIGHT OF STAIRS FROM THE FIRST FLOOR MARBLED HALLWAY. NOW THIS DREAM HAS STUCK WITH ME VIVIDLY SINCE FOR A HALF CENTURY. I WOULD HAVE BEEN ABOUT SEVEN OR EIGHT YEARS OF AGE AT THE TIME. BEFORE I CONTINUE WITH THIS, IT'S WORTH NOTING THAT I HAD NO IDEA WHAT AN ANGEL LOOKED LIKE, OTHER THAN WHAT I SAW HANGING ON THE CHRISTMAS TREE EACH YEAR AS AN ORNAMENT. I THINK WE HAD FOUR OR FIVE ANGEL DECORATIONS. SO WHAT MAKES THE ENCOUNTER TO COME, SO INTRIGUING, IS THAT I REALLY DIDN'T HAVE A GOOD WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF WHAT AN ANGEL REPRESENTED, OTHER THAN GOODNESS AND KINDNESSES BESTOWED ON US POOR WAYWARD MORTALS. MY STORY BOOKS MAY HAVE REFERENCED ANGELS, BUT I REMEMBER DURING THE DREAM, RECOGNIZING THE ANGEL LEVITATING IN FRONT OF ME, AND THINKING……"NOW I KNOW WHAT AN ANGEL REALLY LOOKS LIKE." I GUESS THE HUGE WHITE WINGS GAVE HER AWAY.

     IT IS SAID THAT ONCE YOU HAVE AN ANGEL EXPERIENCE, LIKE I'M ABOUT TO DESCRIBE, YOU CAN'T EVER DISCONNECT FROM THE MESSAGE RECEIVED. WHAT IS SO REMARKABLE ABOUT THE EXPERIENCE, IS THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT IT WAS SO CLEAR AND MAGNIFIED…..SUCH AS THE SOUND OF MY FOOTFALL COMING DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE GREY ROOM. I COULD HEAR MY STEPS JUST LIKE MY HEARTBEAT. WHEN I GOT TO THE BOTTOM OF THE STAIRS, I WAS IMMEDIATELY TURNED, BUT NOT OF MY OWN DOING. IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING, YES, I WAS ALSO LEVITATING. MY FEET WERE NOT ON THE FLOOR. I HAD NO CAPABILITY OF RUNNING, HIDING MY FACE, OR PEEING MY PANTS. IN THE PRESENCE OF THIS MAGNIFICENTLY GLOWING ENTITY, HOVERING ABOVE A TABLE DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME, I WAS ABLE TO PERCEIVE THE SITUATION, AND "ETHEREAL" TIMES A THOUSAND, COVERS ALL THE NUANCES OF THIS DIVINE INTERVENTION IN AN APARTMENT LAUNDRY ROOM OF ALL PLACES……WHICH I EXPECT WAS A REMINDER THAT I WAS TO BE SPARED, ON THAT OCCASION, AND THE FEVER WOULD SOON BREAK. SO, HAVE YOU EVER HAD ANYTHING LIKE THIS HAPPEN IN YOUR LIFE? ACTUALLY, IT WOULD BE NICE TO COMMUNICATE WITH SOMEONE WHO HAS HAD A PARALLEL EXPERIENCE, BECAUSE IT'S ALWAYS A CHALLENGE TRYING TO SELL THIS STORY…….AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A STORY. AND IT "WAS AND IS", JUST AS I CARRY ON IN THIS MORTAL COIL……FOREVER BELIEVING IN THE GOOD GRACE OF ANGELS ON EARTH. AS A SIDEBAR……, BECAUSE OF THIS I SUPPOSE, I HAVE ALSO COME TO KNOW, WHEN I'M FACE TO FACE WITH SOMEONE WHO HAS ALSO HAD THIS SAME TYPE OF EXPERIENCE, BUT FOR REASONS OF FEAR OR RIDICULE, THEY WON'T ADMIT IT. THEY DON'T HAVE TO. AND YOU KNOW, IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BEING CLAIRVOYANT. IT'S JUST A SENSE, NOTHING MORE, NOTHING LESS. I WOULD NEVER PUT THEM ON THE SPOT. I SORT OF THINK THEY KNOW THE SAME THING ABOUT ME, BUT WOULDN'T DARE TO BRING IT UP IN CONVERSATION.

WHAT WAS IT LIKE HOVERING THERE IN UNSPEAKABLE DIVING PRIVILEGE?

     This relates to my collecting interests for the strangest reason. I have been searching for any visual representation of the angel I met in that fever-induced dream experience. So how many parallel images have you been able to find, you ask? Well, by golly, only one, and this was in a book on Angels, and the visual was found in the reproduction of a major oil painting done by a master.  The face of the angel was close to what I had witnessed in my dream. The odd collecting story, of which I have many, is that I have failed for a half century, to be able to find a serious double, whether in a folk art carving of an angel, a hand crafted religious icon, brushed into a painting, formed in plaster, on paper, in glass or even a Christmas decoration. I am actually repelled from buying any angel at all, that doesn't remind me exactly of "her" sleepy-time visit. It's like something hits my hand, forcing me to pull it back, whenever I attempt to grab up an angel ornament from a gift shop, or even antique store. In fact, it's as if this angelic visitation was impressed upon me so profoundly, that I just can't accept anything that is not her actual likeness. So having only one picture of a painting, in one book of hundreds written on the subject, seems just as odd as being visited by an angel in the first place. But here's the thing folks. in the same book there is a scholarly description of what a visit by a guardian angel inspires in corresponding sensory perception. I can remember trembling when I read about what others, since biblical times, have felt in similar circumstances……recognizing that everything they had experienced, I had felt as well. Up to the point of reading this book, I had only told my wife Suzanne, and no one else. Not even my own parents, even after I woke up, when the fever had broken, feeling rejuvenated and contented to meet the new day of my life. I really do believe I was at death's door for a short period, but it was decided by forces beyond, that I was to be spared. Presumably the angel was letting me know this, and who was responsible for my survival. I have been only modestly religious, but a firm believer in an afterlife ever since. It is also stated in this same book, that we inherit some responsibilities ourselves, after such encounters, to pass news of this divine intervention on to others. I didn't follow through on this, until my mid 50's, because, like others worried about their reputations, I thought readers and friends would think I was having a mid-life crisis, and was likely to become the next holy-roller on the block. None of this happened. The angel, as I recall, asked nothing of me, other than to believe in what I saw before me. This is what I could spread, as far as the good word. So this is part of the spiritual pledge, I must have made that strange night, in the midst of serious illness, blessed to life by the angel of mercy.

     Here's what the experience involved. When I turned, at the bottom of the small stairway, to look back up at the door I had just come through, the levitating angel, with large white wings visible above her shoulders, entranced me with an aura or illumination, that was beyond anything a mortal could describe. Of everything I have heard and read about the white light, at the end of the tunnel, after death, I feel very confident that I saw it on this occasion. But there was an angel in the way. She was in the center of this light, but there were not shadows. I have thought about this many times, but I could see in this bright but gentle light, even the contrasts and the dimension of her form, without any dark lines of shadows, even that would normally define the contours of facial features. The light was all-encompassing and certainly all-consuming for those moments I stood…..rather floated, in the angel's presence. There were no words spoken by the angel or me in this dreamscape. Yet there were messages being received, and feelings impressed, just by the expressions on the angel's beautiful face. There was a distinct scent to the encounter, that I could smell even in dreamland, such that I could identify it even after fifty years. According to the book, it is an unearthly aroma, but something that would be attributed to heavenly spices and oils. There was music, and there are times when I hear certain ancient hymns, that one would describe as being "the voices of angels," I can well up with tears…..wanting to rejoin that experience of once. There was a soothing sense of climate….a coolness, as if walking into a sudden mist. Additionally, and most important, there is a sense of peace and tranquility, deeply and profoundly ethereal, that removes all worldly burdens of time, space, and human activity. It is as if you are in what has been described as "heaven on earth," for that short period of dream-time, when potentially, the fever was either going to kill me, or finally break.

     It was the compassionate eyes of the angel I have remembered for all these years. She was engulfed in this beautiful warm glow of light, yet her blue eyes captivated me with their intensity…..which I know were looking through my mortality, as if judging my soul…….whether it was vibrant and powerful enough to carry the burden of life expectations. I realize that for those few moments, I was in this angel's company, I could not wake up, or free myself by any other means. When I was allowed to climb back up those basement stairs, the moment my hand touched the door handle, I awoke to see my mother looking down on me, from the chair she had pulled up beside, immediately wanting to take my temperature. I was still pretty groggy, and soaked through with sweat. Merle was joyous that the fever had diminished. Apparently I would live, to influence all life in my path……even you folks reading this today. I didn't tell Merle about the experience, because at that point, I didn't know anything about the angel kind, and I just thought it was an image that would pass into silent oblivion one day. Like I say, that was fifty years ago, and I am as clear headed about this encounter, as when I popped free of that dastardly illness.

     One night, a couple of months ago, I started doodling on a pad of paper, I kept beside my chair in the living room. As weird as this might seem, I tried for two hours to sketch something that looked like what I had allegedly witnessed of divine intervention. I couldn't come close, yet I could see her face as clearly as the dream had appeared to me. I am fairly good at this kind of sketching, but on this night, it proved impossible. It was almost as if, the same entity that had visited once long ago, was thwarting me then, from finding a likeness……because the only likeness that was important, was the one recreated in memory…….of a dream. It's the same strange feeling, when I am on the hunt, out there, for angel figures in wood, plaster, glass, metal, or applied in all shapes and sizes to assorted paint boards. As I noted earlier in this blog, I have only found one image that was close, and it was opposite a description of angel encounters, that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as erect as an Algonquin pinery. But I know, that I will continue to hunt for some human-made image, sculpture, or painting that validates that some other mortal has had the same experience as me……but was better qualified to capture the features of what I still expect, was a guardian angel. So as a collector of all things angelic, my collection after half a century, is a long way from being fulfilled, and probably never will be…….but not because of a lack of interest or ambition. As for having the experience lodged deeply in my being……it is there forever. I do however, feel warm and fuzzy telling this story, that while not about antiques and collectibles on their own, shows a side of this collector you need to know, if you wish to carry on reading this blog collection. Everything I do today, whether it is writing, hunting and gathering antiques, or just chatting with friends, is subtly influenced by a sick bed visitation…….I couldn't possibly explain better than I have, in the lines above…..as being the heavenly experience that removed the fear of death forever. This is the most profound aspect to this story. It connects with stories of near death experiences, and the wonderfully liberating and painless departure from the mortal coil, giving the sensation of floating toward the light. I saw this light, but there was an angel floating in the middle of it! Wow, you must think I'm crazy. As I also noted above, once touched by an angel, as the story goes, life is never quite the same ever-after.

     Glad you could be a part of this blog today. Maybe it seems far fetched. Maybe you know someone who has had a similar experience. Possible you have faced a near death experience as well. I will tell you, that I only went to church for one month of Sundays in my life. I don't belong to a cult, a sect, even a neighborhood watch, and the last Church I attended, was the Presbyterian Church in Bracebridge, Ontario, on the arm of my girlfriend, Marion, for her confirmation exercises. She dumped me the very next Sunday. So I have no organized religion to pitch or preach. I'm just an antique dealer, historian, writer, who had a little meeting with a guardian angel, at seven years of age……and if she didn't save my life, working for a higher power, then it was good old Merle, at her chair-side vigil who chilled away the fever. If you have had a similar encounter, feel free to drop me a note…….so I won't feel so alone with my wonderful and divine recollection. Please join me again for another antique hunting blog tomorrow. Bye for now!

Folk Art versus Fine Art For The Collector/Dealer

FOLK ART IS STILL ONE OF THE BEST BUYS FOR THE ROVING ANTIQUE HUNTER / COLLECTOR

I COULD HAPPILY DWELL IN A HOUSE FULL OF MAUD LEWIS PAINTINGS

     I WOULD GLADLY TURN FROM COLLECTING FINE ART, TO FOLK ART, IF I HAD TO, AS THEY SAY, "DO IT ALL AGAIN." I AM ATTRACTED TO NAIVE, UNTRAINED, FROM THE SOUL "ART WORK," AND I FIND THE CLOSEST CREATIONS IN THIS REGARD, REST WITH THE HANDIWORK OF THE LARGELY UNNOTICED FOLK ARTIST…..IN ANY MEDIUM. I COULD BE WONDERFULLY CONTENTED TO AWAKE EVERY MORNING, AND RISE-UP TO SEE A WALL TO WALL GALLERY OF PAINTINGS, BY LEGENDARY EAST COAST FOLK ARTIST, MAUD LEWIS. OF COURSE I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A FAN OF THE ART WORK OF GRANDMA MOSES, AND OTHERS, WHO WORRIED LESS ABOUT PROTOCOLS OF ART PREPARATION, AND MORE ABOUT THE LIBERATION OF EXPRESSION.

    TODAY I ONLY HAVE A MODEST COLLECTION OF FOLK ART, SIMPLY BECAUSE I HAVE SOLD MOST OF IT OFF. THAT'S WHAT DEALERS AND PICKERS DO, TO PAY THE RENT AND OCCASIONALLY PURCHASE SOME FOOD FOR OUR BELLIES. THERE ARE A LOT OF ART PEOPLE HOWEVER, JUST AS THERE HAVE BEEN FOR CENTURIES, WHO AVOID FOLK ART AS IF IT WAS SENT BY THE DEVIL. ALMOST TO DISTRACT US FROM THE SEDATE PRE-OCCUPATION WITH PRETTY LANDSCAPES, AND PAINTINGS OF ROMANCE, AND UNYIELDING SENTIMENT, PLEASURE AND EVEN CATASTROPHE; THAT APPEAR TO HAVE BEEN INSPIRED BY HEAVEN, TO KEEP US ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW. FOLK ART CONFOUNDS OPINION. AS A COLLECTOR, WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE A MAGNIFICENTLY PROPORTIONED CARVED CHERUB, OR A ROUGHLY HEWN, OUT OF PROPORTION, EXAGGERATED DEPICTION BY A FOLK ARTIST. WELL, I'D LIKE TO HAVE BOTH, BUT IF I HAD THE CHOICE, I WOULD ALWAYS SELECT WORK FROM THE NON COMMERCIALLY MOTIVATED FOLK ARTIST. THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN A PROBLEM FOR ME, BECAUSE HONESTLY, IN NINE OUT OF TEN CASES, THE BEAUTIFULLY CRAFTED CHERUB IS THE ONE THAT WOULD SELL FOR A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT OF MONEY IN THE ANTIQUE TRADE, WHEREAS THE FOLK ART DEPICTION, WOULDN'T FETCH AS MUCH CASH, AND MAY BE IN STOCK LONGER, BECAUSE THERE ARE FEWER FOLK ART COLLECTORS…….WHO WOULD SEE THE BEAUTY AND HONESTY; WHERE FINE ART COLLECTORS, MIGHT ONLY SEE IMPERFECTION AND UNTUTORED WORKMANSHIP. I HAVE SOLD A CONSIDERABLE QUANTITY OF FOLK ART OVER THE DECADES, BUT ALWAYS TO A FEW COLLECTORS WHO HAVE WELL ESTABLISHED INVENTORIES OF SUCH ART AND CRAFTS. IF I WANTED TO MAKE CONSISTENT SALES OF ART, I WOULD DIVERT MONEY FROM FOLK ART TO FINE ART. BUT THEN BEING IN THIS PROFESSION, WOULDN'T BE NEARLY AS MUCH FUN AS IT IS. SO I TRY TO HAVE A BALANCE. I WON'T TURN DOWN A GOOD DEAL ON A REALLY NICE PAINTING, AND I WILL DO EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO ACQUIRE A FOLK ART PIECE OF FURNITURE, OR CARVING OF A BEAVER FOR EXAMPLE. I NEVER PUT THEM SIDE BY SIDE, FINE ART, AND I DON'T TRY TO CHANGE THE OPINIONS OF THOSE WHO ENJOY FINE ART, TO MAKE THEM, BY PROPAGANDA ALONE, FOLK ART LOVERS. YOU EITHER LIKE THE STYLE, OR YOU DON'T. BUT I WILL ALWAYS HAVE DIVERSITY IN MY OWN COLLECTION, LIKE A WELL BALANCED INVESTMENT PORTFOLIO, AND THE WARES WE OFFER TO PATRONS WILL REFLECT OUR RESPECT FOR ART GENERALLY. THE BOTTOM LINE IS, I LOVE BEING INVOLVED WITH ART AND ARTISTS, REGARDLESS WHAT THE STYLE…..SCULPTURE, MIXED-MEDIA, WOOD CARVINGS, TO THE FINE WORK OF TALENTED GLASS BLOWERS…..THAT I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN PARTIAL TO…..AND FIND HARD TO RESIST. AS FOR MY RESPECT FOR THE ARTS AND CRAFTS COMMUNITY HERE IN MUSKOKA…….I'VE BEEN IMBEDDED AS A WRITER, AND HAVE VISITED THE INNER SANCTUMS, AND OH HOW ENVY THEIR CREATIVE ENTERPRISE.

     AS A LONG-SERVING ROVING REPORTER FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, HERE IN MUSKOKA, I WAS FREQUENTLY CALLED TO DO FEATURE STORIES ON LOCAL ARTISTS AND CRAFTS-PEOPLE, ESPECIALLY FOR OUR SUMMER TIME PUBLICATION, "THE MUSKOKA SUN." OVER TIME, I DEVELOPED A KEEN INTEREST IN THIS DIVERSE COLLECTION OF ARTISANS, AND WHAT THEY WERE PRODUCING FOR THE MARKETPLACE. I LOVED ANY OPPORTUNITY TO VISIT THEIR STUDIOS, TO WATCH THE CREATIVE PROCESS AT ITS PINNACLE. IT REALLY DIDN'T MATTER WHETHER I WAS WATCHING A GLASS BLOWER AT WORK, OR A LANDSCAPE ARTIST APPLYING BRUSH STROKES TO AN ART PANEL ON AN EASLE. I WAS FASCINATED BY THEIR WORK AND THE ENVIRONMENT IN WHICH THEY CREATED THEIR ART. THEY WERE CRAFTING THE ART WORK FOR THE CENTURIES…..THE ART, ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES FOR THE FUTURE, AND I WAS A KEEN VOYEUR. WHAT MADE THEM ALL CONTENTED, AND PRODUCTIVE, IN MY OPINION, WAS THAT THEY WERE WORKING IN A FIELD THEY FELT PASSIONATE ABOUT, AND FULFILLED TO BE A SMALL PART. OF COURSE THEY WERE WELL TRAINED, BUT THEY WERE INVOLVING THEMSELVES IN A FOLK ART ENVIRONMENT, AND TRADITION, WHERE THE COUNTRYSIDE, THE FOREST, ROCK, LAKES AND SKY WERE SOURCES OF DAILY INSPIRATION. JUST AS IT HAD BEEN FOR UNTRAINED FOLK ARTISTS IN THE PAST. THEY WERE LIVING AS MANY FOLK ARTISTS HAVE, IN NATIONAL HISTORY, BUT WITH THE INTENT OF PRESENT AND FUTURE ENTERPRISE, WITHIN THE BROAD RANGE OF THE ART PROFESSION; HAVING IN DEPTH KNOWLEDGE OF THEIR CRAFT, WITHOUT THE COMPROMISE OF HONEST COMPOSITION….. INSPIRED FROM RUSTIC STUDIOS CARVED ENCHANTINGLY INTO THE MUSKOKA WOODLANDS. THEY MAY BE OUTRAGED AT THIS SIMPLISTIC OVERVIEW AND ASSESSMENT, AND VERY MUCH OBJECT TO BEING PARALLELED WITH UNTRAINED FOLK ARTISTS. THEY ARE ENTITLED TO THEIR OPINION, AS I AM, AS AN ART COLLECTOR. I LOVE THEIR WORK. OUR HOUSE IS FULL TO OVERFLOWING WITH THE EFFORTS OF ARTISTS AND CRAFTERS.

     I HAVE A REFERENCE BOOK THAT DETAILS THE STRUGGLE OF ART ENTHUSIASTS AND SCHOLARS IN ENGLAND, TO HAVE NAIVE AND FOLK ART CREATIONS, INCLUDED IN THE ASSESSMENT OF THE NATION'S CULTURAL IDENTITY. THERE HAS BEEN A TRADITION OF FINE ART THAT IS HARD TO DETRACT FROM, AS CULTURAL ICONS, YET THE FASCINATION OF SIMPLE, NAIVE CREATIVITY, HAS BEEN GRADUALLY EARNING RESPECT OF THE ART COMMUNITY, SUCH THAT IT HAS BECOME GALLERY-WORTHY, AND SUITABLE FOR MAJOR PUBLIC COLLECTIONS. FROM BEING CONSIDERED "NOT VERY GOOD" TO BEING CONSIDERED "A REFLECTION OF THE COMMONPLACE TIMES OF OUR LIVES," FOLK ART HAS BECOME, TO SOME DEGREE, AN HISTORICAL MARKER OF CULTURAL CHANGES TO OUR SOCIETY; WITHOUT A SHRED OF ARROGANCE, OR ANY FEELING OF THE FOLK ARTIST, THAT A STANDARD MUST BE ADHERED TO, IN ORDER TO BE ACCEPTED. MOST OF IT WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE SOLD. IT WAS CRAFTED BY FOLKS AS A HOBBY ACTIVITY, NOT A PROFESSION. MOST OF THE HAND CRAFTED ITEMS WERE GIVEN AWAY, OR KEPT BY THE CREATOR AS PLEASING DECORATION. YOU DIDN'T GO OFF TO ART SCHOOL TO BECOME FOLK ARTISTS. AND THERE WERE FINE ARTISTS WHO NEVER HAD INSTRUCTION, BUT BECAME ACCOMPLISHED; AND HIGHLY MARKETABLE PAINTERS AND SCULPTORS, WHO ATTAINED FINE ART STATUS, BUT NEVER BENEFITTED FROM TUTORING. BUT BECAUSE OF THE CALIBRE OF THEIR WORK, THEY WERE NEVER CONSIDERED FOLK ARTISTS.

FINDING FOLK ART OUT ON THE ANTIQUE HUNT AND GATHER

  The antique dealer's and collector's advantage is education. The more we know and the less the vendors are willing to educate themselves, the more likely we will leave shops with wrapped paintings and folk art under our arms. We depend on laziness and lack of due diligence on the part of retailers, and sale hosts generally, because that's where and when mistakes in valuation are made. Most second hand dealers and flea market vendors, as well as yard sale hosts, know a good quality painting from something that is bad art on all levels. I usually expect higher prices on these finer art pieces, but ninety percent of the time, they're still under-priced from the actual market value. So I buy lots of art work. Folk art is far more difficult to ascertain. Even after years of hunting these naive and home crafted art works, I'm still vulnerable to miscalculation. The landscape artist who is poor at representation, but who thinks their work is gallery-material, usually doesn't fall into the category of folk art. Folk artists in history, didn't have any plan to be better crafters than any one else, and they certainly weren't anticipating any major exhibitions…..except possibly, on a stand outside the barn, or on an old harvest table at roadside. The folk art in this regard, was never destined to be considered "great" or "unprecedented," by those who stopped on the way home, to buy a whirligig, featuring two burly gents sawing a log. They would saw faster if the wind was spinning the propellor more aggressively. Many of those buying these items were doing so, to jazz up their lawns, or gardens, not as a major art investments. Well sir, some of these early Canadian and American whirligigs are fetching king's ransoms in the folk art market-place these days…..which I'm sure would surprise the artists responsible……who were just enjoying themselves by creating something interesting.

     There are thousands of variations of craft work, that fall into the category of folk art, and naive interpretations. I have bought and sold many paintings from the 1800's, that were attractive and colorful pieces, but as investment art, they were just historical offerings…..that really weren't taken all that seriously. We're a little different today, and the importance of folk art is gaining new significance, to both art lovers and historians……who now agree, on the national relevance of the folk art contributors. It's why I invest, whenever I can, in a quality piece of vintage folk art, and I've often paid more for these, than the more proficient work of trained artists, from the same period in history. The fact that second hand and thrift shops, will have quality paintings appraised, or placed in their monthly auctions, but will dump folk art creations on the shelf with low prices, works for me by golly. I have tried to help some of these thrift shops appreciate the differences between fine art and folk art, but they generally prefer to follow their own internal leadership, and carry on with the same old hit and miss strategy. What this means, is that I can find twenty or thirty exceptional folk art pieces every year, that are of museum quality, and never spend more than several hundred dollars making the acquisitions. Once again, it's important to distinguish bad art from folk art. There are lots of really poor paintings for sale at flea markets, second hand and charity shops, and the yard sale circuit is full of them. These are not examples of folk art, at least in the sense of investment quality. You can search online, the work of east coast folk artist Maud Lewis, or Grandma Moses of the United States. You can look up collections of Canadian Folk Art, and there are many books on the market, that offer research material on collecting these naive regional and national works. There is no reason to be uneducated about folk art, if you're a collector, because today, versus when I began collecting, the information sources have more than quadrupled. But second hand vendors just can't be bothered, and that's to my advantage. And I do benefit. I will show some photos in coming editions (of this blog), of some of my favorite "found" pieces….all by the way, gathered in this wonderful lakeland region of Ontario.

     As I've stated previously, art is usually seriously under-valued or grossly over-valued in second hand shops, and at yard sales. When people complain about the high prices, I chortle to myself about their "penny wise, pound foolish" approach. Some of the best art finds I've made, including a Thomas Mower-Martin watercolor landscape, and several George Thomson oils, were priced higher than other paintings in the same environs. What this did for me, was thwart other buyers until I arrived…..and in five seconds per piece, evaluated that, while the prices seem high, fifty dollars for an eight hundred dollar painting, isn't really all that daunting. The problem with a lot of sort-of collector / dealers, is that they get easily thrown off their game plan, when all of a sudden, they encounter some antique or art piece, that is priced more than double parallel pieces in the same shop or flea market. Fifty percent of the time, the art work is just simply over priced based on "pie in the sky" valuations, of what appears to be a major work…..but in fact, is a poorly executed copy. The other fifty percent, means opportunity for art investors to make a shark attack, and even at a higher asking price, the valuations make the asking price a minor issue. Vendors who are worried about losing a major art work by pricing too low, actually overprice to our general advantage. For example, a thrift shop that decides to put a hundred dollar price sticker on a painting, will have turned-off dozens of potential buyers of nice pictures. The first "art shark" through the door, will determined quickly, whether the hundred dollar price tag is justified, or not…..but because it has lasted for potentially hours on the sales floor, with no takers, has in fact guaranteed a roving art collector / dealer will get the chance to take it home for a value price. If you saw a hundred dollar price tag, on a painting you knew was worth a thousand dollars, would you really feel it necessary to dicker on the asking price. The best of the best, would hand over the money, and be satisfied that experience has paid off once again. Keep in mind, in case you think it would be a case of ripping off a charity, a majority of these thrift shop operations, have access to appraisals and also have designated staff who look up art and artists to get their valuations. When it hits the floor, after there supposed due diligence, we're in the clear to buy what we wish. They don't offer any apology for their pricing, which admittedly has been getting higher each year, so they shouldn't be upset when we do our job, of swooping down on the best buys. For me, I reiterate, folk art picking has been particularly fruitful this past year.

     I have been at yard sales, for example, when an average landscape painting, has been priced at fifty bucks, and at the most, in normal second hand retail, it would be worth $60. I've then turned to find a wonderful vintage folk art whirligig, in good condition, for ten bucks, that could be worth from one hundred to five hundred dollars. A folk art item with provenance is even better. Art seems to do this to folks. Frustrating them into pricing too high or too low, and missing the whole point of what folk art and naive really mean. I've told you. But I'm not going to educate the whole darn gang, or I'd lose my best opportunities out on the hustings, to invest in old fashioned, culturally splendid, folk art creations….that were created with enthusiasm; and always for "the fun of it," without worrying about the profit margin based on an hourly wage, and material costs. It just wasn't important. That's what I like about folk art. It's as liberating to me, viewing them, as it was to the crafter, creating them.

     Thanks for dropping by for a visit today……and what a wet and slushy one it was. I heard gulls out over the lake this afternoon. The harbingers of spring? Geez I hope so. I love the winter season, but this one, while blooming late, has been tough on folks who haven't had really bad winters in a few years. I was getting used to the global warming thing, and was entertaining the idea of planting a palm tree on the front lawn, to test the theory of rising temperatures, and milder winters. I'm going to hold off doing this for awhile. The traditional Canadian winter I knew as a kid, have arrived once more. See you again soon. Drive safely out there!

The Art Hunter And How We Operate Under The Radar

THE ART HUNTER, AND WHAT WE LOOK FOR - THAT OTHERS MISS

THE BIGGEST MISTAKE BY VENDORS IS TO UNDERESTIMATE OR OVER-ESTIMATE ART VALUES

     I HAVE ALWAYS ADMIRED ART. FOR MANY YEARS I DIDN'T HAVE THE MONEY TO COLLECT FINE ART, AND SETTLED FOR MY SECOND PASSION,……WHICH IS FOLK ART. I REALLY CAN'T DECIDE WHICH ART FORM AND STYLE I LIKE BEST. I HAVE A HUGE RESPECT FOR ARTISTIC TYPES GENERALLY, AS I AM A FRUSTRATED ARTIST MYSELF, WHO TURNED TO WRITING INSTEAD. WHEN I WAS AT UNIVERSITY IN TORONTO, OUR RESIDENCE WAS FULL OF ARTISTS, SCULPTORS, POETS AND MUSICIANS. I GOT AS MUCH EDUCATION FROM TRAVELING ROOM TO ROOM, IN THE EVENINGS, BEGGING TO SIT AND WATCH ART IN PROGRESS, AS I GOT FROM THE WHOLE ACADEMIC EXPERIENCE. MY FRIEND ROSS SMITH, AN EXCEPTIONAL LANDSCAPE ARTIST, USED TO HAVE AN ART PANEL ON THE GO, MOST OF THE TIME, AND IN RETURN FOR EDITING HIS ESSAYS, (HE WAS A CRAPPY SPELLER), HE'D LET ME WATCH A PAINTING COME TOGETHER. AND HE FED ME AS WELL, BECAUSE I WAS BROKE MOST OF THE TIME, OVER MY THREE YEARS AT YORK UNIVERSITY. I EVEN BEGGED ROSS TO CREATE A SMALL PAINTING FOR ME, OF A RUSTIC WATERFRONT CABIN, AND DOCK, THAT I HAD TAKEN A PHOTOGRAPH OF ONCE,……THAT I WANTED TO BUILD ONE DAY HERE IN MUSKOKA. WELL, THAT NEVER HAPPENED, BUT HE DID A PAINTING FOR ME, AND IT HANGS HERE IN MY OFFICE, WITH DOZENS OF OTHERS I'VE ACQUIRED, THAT WERE FAMILY HEIRLOOMS.

     AS WITH MOST COLLECTORS AND ANTIQUE (ART) DEALERS, WE OFTEN HAVE HAD TO CHANGE OUR AFFECTIONS FOR HERITAGE PIECES, BASED ON MANY UNEXPECTED CIRCUMSTANCES. MOST HAVE AT THE VERY LEAST DIVERSIFIED THEIR COLLECTING HABITS, FROM SAY……THEIR OWN FIRST DAYS OUT ON THE HUSTINGS, TRYING TO AMASS INVENTORY FOR A SHOP, FOR EXAMPLE. SOMETHING CHANGES THE GAME AND WE START LOOKING AT OTHER POSSIBILITIES. THE VINTAGE GLASS COLLECTOR, WHO ALSO HAS A MINOR INTEREST IN SPORTS MEMORABILIA. HEY IT HAPPENS. THE QUILT COLLECTOR WHO ALSO HAS A SUBSTANTIAL COLLECTION OF STAMPS OR COINS. SOMETIMES IT'S THE INFLUENCE OF A PARTNER OR SPOUSE, THAT INSPIRES A PROFOUND CHANGE OF COLLECTING INTEREST, WHICH IS REALLY A PRETTY NATURAL PROGRESSION OF THE PROFESSION ITSELF. MOST ANTIQUE DEALERS ESPECIALLY, ALLOW FOR THE WINDS OF CHANGE, AND WELCOME NEW SOURCES OF INSPIRATION. FOR ME, I BEGAN COLLECTING ANTIQUE GLASS, BECAUSE IT WAS CHEAPLY ACQUIRED, WHEN I DUG AT HOMESTEAD DUMPSITES, FROM AGE NINETEEN ONWARD. I LOVED TO COLLECT VINTAGE LIGHTING, AND I STILL HAVE SEVENTY-FIVE OLD OIL LAMPS, MOST THAT ARE CURRENTLY OPERATIONAL, SHOULD THE POWER GO OUT HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I BEGAN COLLECTING BOOKS AS A REGIONAL HISTORIAN HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, AND FROM THAT SPECIFIC INTEREST, DEVELOPED A WIDER APPRECIATION THAT "OLD BOOKS ARE IN DEMAND." THIS CAME ABOUT THROUGH OUR SHOP. I BEGAN SELLING SOME OF MY MUSKOKA RELATED HISTORIES, AND I COULDN'T BELIEVE THE RAGING DEMAND. I STARTED CHECKING OUT THE PRICES OF THESE OUT-OF-PRINT BOOKS, AND APPARENTLY, I WAS FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE, IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME……WITH BOOKSHELVES FULL OF WHAT FOLKS IN OUR AREA WANTED. WITH THIS INTEREST CAME A GENERALLY FANNING OUT INTO NON-FICTION, AND IT LED THE WAY TO THE LIFE OF A BIBLIOPHILE, WHICH IS STILL OCCUPYING MY TIME AND SPACE AT THE SHOP, ALL THESE JOYFUL YEARS LATER. I HAVE ALWAYS ENJOYED MY INVOLVEMENT WITH THESE DIVERSE CATEGORIES OF COLLECTIBLES, BUT THE TRUTH IS, I'VE GOT MICRO COLLECTIONS ALL OVER THE PLACE, INCLUDING HOCKEY AND BASEBALL CARDS. THAT'S A STORY FOR ANOTHER DAY.

     WHEN AT TIMES, BOOKS STARTED TO ESCALATE IN PRICE, AND DEMAND DROPPED, I WAS FORCED TO LOOK AT OTHER OPTIONS, TO MAINTAIN A REASONABLE MARGIN OF PROFIT. I BEGAN TURNING TO ART MORE EACH YEAR, AND IT IS STILL THE AREA I'M MOST COMFORTABLE IN, AND PROFITABLE, MORESO THAN BOOKS OR VINTAGE GLASS……OR SPORTS CARDS. HERE'S WHY. I PURCHASED TWO WELL EXECUTED, LATE 1800'S WATERCOLORS, FROM HOLLAND, AT A LOCAL SECOND HAND SHOP, FOR UNDER TEN DOLLARS (THE PAIR). WHEN I GOT TO THE COUNTER, THE SHOP MANAGER, THE CHECK-OUT CLERK, AND SOME CUSTOMERS WHO HAD BEEN IN CONVERSATION, INQUIRED WHAT I HAD FOUND ON MY TRAVELS OF THE LARGE STORE. "THEY'RE NICE PRINTS," SAID THE MANAGER. "I LIKE THE SOFT COLORS AND THE BOATS IN THE PICTURE," SAID A WOMAN, LEANING UP AGAINST THE COUNTER. IN LESS THAN A MINUTE OF UNDESIRED SCRUTINY, THE WORD "PRINT" WAS USED ABOUT TWELVE TIMES, EMPHATICALLY BY STAFF AND CUSTOMERS. THEY DESPERATELY WANTED ME TO AGREE WITH THEM. I NEVER SAID THEY WEREN'T PRINTS, BUT I WAITED UNTIL AFTER PAYING FOR THEM, TO ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION. NOW THE PROBLEM HERE, IS THAT IN OUR REGION, I CAN'T REALLY HIDE FROM MY PROFESSIONAL CREDENTIALS, WHICH OFTEN PUTS ME IN CONTROVERSIAL SITUATIONS, AS AN APPRAISER OF MY OWN PURCHASES. THERE ARE TIMES, THAT WHEN THESE SHOP STAFFERS SEE ME WITH STORE MERCHANDISE, THEY CRINGE AT THE POSSIBILITY I'VE UNCOVERED A JACKSON POLLOCK, BECAUSE THEY'VE ALL HEARD OR READ THE STORY OF THE LADY WHO FOUND ONE AT A YARD SALE. OF COURSE, TO MY KNOWLEDGE, THAT ONE WAS NEVER ACTUALLY CONFIRMED AS A POLLOCK ORIGINAL. ANYWAY, YOU GET THE MESSAGE. IT CAN BE AWKWARD AT TIMES. THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

     WHAT PUZZLED ME, THAT DAY, WAS THE FACT THIS SCRUM OF SECOND HAND SHOP HANGERS-ON, FELT COMPELLED TO TELL ME ABOUT THE TWO ART PIECES I WAS PURCHASING. THEY WEREN'T ACTUALLY ASKING FOR MY ASSESSMENT. THEY WERE TELLING ME THAT I WAS BUYING TWO NICE, OLD "PRINTS." I HAVE A THRESHOLD LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, AND SOMETIMES I CROSS IT SOONER THAN I SHOULD, BECAUSE I'M TEMPTED WITH AN UNANTICIPATED STUPID QUESTION. ONE YOUNG LADY I KNOW, WHO HAS BEEN INVOLVED IN THE ANTIQUE BUSINESS FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS, STUCK HER HEAD AROUND THE CORNER OF THE GATHERED HUMANITY, AND SAID, "THOSE AREN'T PRINTS……TED FOUND TWO REALLY NICE WATERCOLORS." SO WHAT'S AN ANTIQUE DEALER SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT NASTY "CAT OUT OF THE BAG." I WAS DELIGHTED THEY HAD THOUGHT THE ART WORK WAS PLEASANT; AND LIKE THE PRETTY PICTURES YOU COULD BUY YEARS AGO AT THE "FIVE AND DIME STORE." I REALLY DIDN'T HAVE MUCH CHOICE THEN, OTHER THAN TO RUN A LITTLE SALES-COUNTER TUTORIAL, ON THE COMPARISON ISSUES BETWEEN PRINTS AND ORIGINALS, AND HOW TO DETECT THE FAIRLY CLEAR DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE TWO.

TO BE COMPETITIVE YOU HAVE TO FLY UNDER THE RADAR

     If these watercolors had been the work of a well known artist, and worth thousands, I would have been compelled to fess-up. After all, it was a charity shop, and I have done appraisal work for them in the past……as a donation, so I couldn't very well walk out of the store, and feel good about myself, with ten thousand dollars worth of art work under my arm. An auction is a competition, between antique-savvy heavyweights, as in the story-line above, so it is different than cherry picking from a thrift shop. In this case, the small original watercolors, of marine themes, with original frames and flawed glass, dating it back to about the 1880's, were valued at around hundred dollars for the pair. Vintage watercolors are hard to sell, so it's not like I was going to make easy money from them. I own lots of similar watercolors because I like them hanging on my walls. It's as simple as that. The real big money art-work, for me, are expertly done Canadian or regional oil paintings, particularly landscapes. At least this is the current trend, which may last a year or a couple more weeks. Of course, detecting an oil painting is easier than identifying a watercolor, unless you have a magnifying glass handy. I've purchased watercolors so perfectly done, and lightly touched, that the only way to determine their originality is by magnification. I've also been burned numerous times, when I thought I had an original, but alas…..I had acquired a near worthless print. On those occasions I hope Suzanne isn't near enough to hear me weeping. At least I can recycle the frames. It's also important to note here, that folk art is also very difficult for most non-collectors to figure out. Is it really bad art work, or is it a naive depiction, or sculpture, by an untrained folk artist. It's difficult to understand the differences, just like the gathering at the charity shop, was trying to figure out what was so special about the two pictures I was buying. "Tell me why you think they are prints," I asked them as a group. They all had to handle the pieces, and stick their noses up to the glass protecting the paper panels. Two concurred they were originals on closer inspection. The other three held their opinion, that I had just over-paid, in their opinions, for two wall hangings. I developed a dislike for these folks, so I decided to make them an example……and to provide a little lesson about the importance of experience, education, and being sure of one's self, before making stupid comments.

     So I offered these three gents, an opportunity to view them up close……as I played the role of art teacher. I asked them if they found anything odd about what they had determined to be prints off a press.They couldn't. "Have you ever once in your art-critiquing lives, gentlemen, seen brush hairs attached to the surface of a print?" "Where's the brush hair," one asked, looking closer at the paintings. "Oh, those brush hairs." Don't you just love those moments? Those little victories in life. You know, I didn't half mind them labeling them as prints, except for the fact, that because everyone knew me in that scrum, and my integrity was looking rather thread-bare under the circumstances, I felt it a matter of honor, to provide some basic insight. And by the way, I didn't make fun of them for their error, and in fact, I never said another word……unless you count, "see you all later," as I walked out the door. They were just curious, I suppose. It's not like I'm adverse to helping others learn about antiques and collectibles. I love to talk, and especially when it involves something within my profession. In this case, they just pushed me back into a corner, to where I felt the need to defend the antique profession……from those who have little idea how tough it is, to know it all! To be a big-money antique hunter? That's right. You have to be a first class know-it-all, because if you're not……chances are you're going to miss an original because you mistakenly thought it was a reproduction.

     I was in another charity shop, one afternoon, and was in the process of purchasing a nice original pastel, of a Muskoka winter scene. I know this, because it was labelled on the back. A gentleman connected with the manager of the store, came up behind me, and asked to see the picture. This also happens a lot, because there is a real curiosity about what antique dealers get up to on the hustings. So I showed him the art work under glass, and he immediately said, "It's not a bad print." Another wise acre! "I bet you thought that was an original, didn't you Ted," he added, while chortling a merry tune to himself, about his extensive knowledge of art. Here's the footnote now, instead of later. This knob had already picked this up, and was going to buy it, before some other knob told him, "That's a print, you know." So getting really angry at this intrusion, once again, I said, "And what makes you believe this is a print and not an original?" Knobs don't like to be put on the spot like this. So there was a lot of sputtering, like an outboard engine being tested in a barrel full of water. Keep in mind, that it's okay to make fun of the antique dealer, until this rearing-up stage of the lay-person mocking ritual. "It just is, can't you see that," was the only response he could make, with the sudden onset of dry mouth, and the jitters, that a cobra was coiling for a strike. I held it up for him to get a good long look, and I asked if he knew why there was a faint blue residue on the inside of the glass. You would have to be visually impaired not to see this. "I though it was dirt or something," he answered. I responded, without any hint of sarcasm, "but it's blue!" I explained to him that this was pastel dust basically, off the blue water of the lake in the landscape. I went on to offer the opinion, that the artist had probably been a little stingy with the fixing spray, that would normally keep the dust from rising inside the frame…..especially if the picture was moved or bumped during its lifetime. "It's an original sir, and a nice one," was how I concluded this discussion.  Well not quite. "You should have bought it….what a great price." I didn't make a friend on this day. But I bet if I had set it down, for even a moment, it would have been in his hand again.

     The funniest encounter, was at a fundraising auction for local firefighters. They had a nice variety of art pieces, on a high shelf behind the auctioneer. Being at the middle zone of the auction, it took three hours of selling to get to the framed art. In three hours, a fellow like me, can get in a lot of quality staring. There was one painting I had picked out, that was, in my mind, truly magnificent. It was a winter landscape of tall pines, a beautiful homestead, frozen pond with kids skating, and two horse drawn sleighs. I knew this was an original and not a reprint on canvas. I could see that the canvas was ripped, and there were other areas of damage to the surface. These paintings can be restored. What I was counting on, was that because this was a fine art piece, and truly out of place with the paint my numbers, and the "five to dime store" framed prints, also in the art pile, bidders would look at the damage and its near perfect scene, and opt not to invest in this particular art piece. There have been many well known masterpieces applied to canvas, giving the visual appearance of being original. This looked like a Cornelius Krieghoff, a well known Canadian landscape artist, or something from Currier and Ives. It could have been a scene from Quebec or New York. As the painting came up for auction, the auctioneer described it as a badly damaged print of a well known painting. Thanks to that introduction, at least half the potential bidders bowed out immediately. It's one thing to by a copy, but not one that is damaged.

     Two people standing beside me, agreed vocally that it was a shame this print was damaged, as they would have been delighted to have it adorning a wall in their respective homes. One antique dealer nearby, began explaining the process of putting those familiar art works onto canvas, to make them look original. Damn it, this was all very distracting. After a little encouragement, the auctioneer got a bid, and then about five more, running the damaged painting up to about thirty dollars…..mostly because they wanted to scavenge what I knew was a pre-Victorian frame. With a second to spare before the auctioneer declared the item sold, I made a bid of forty dollars, to shake up the civility of the affair, and let folks know there was a new kid in the game. Often when you break up the even succession of bids, it's like what happens with a missed heart-beat, but you don't die as a result. The bidders are shocked by the strange increase in bidding, and generally, as is my experience, let the piece go without another bid. On this occasion, I attracted too much attention in a thinning crowd. Especially from my antique dealer colleague, who decided that if I was after this framed art work, it had to be for more than a nice frame. So she started bidding me up. So did a few others, who realized "the dealer is after that print up there!" So I made a couple of larger incremental moves, and finally blew off the competition at seventy-five dollars. I had just bought a five thousand dollar painting for seventy five bucks. Not bad eh? It was appraised at this value, even with the damage to the canvas. The painting by the way, wasn't signed by the artist, but was signed by the "paint man" in New York, from the 1820's. A "paint" or "color man" mixed the colors for the artist, to suit their specific use needs. When I had the large painting in my hand, the antique dealer was at my side in a flash, fondling the art panel, to see for herself whether it was original or not. When she recognized that I had just bought an original…..not a copy……not a print, she made me an offer of a hundred dollars…….stating, "That's a profit of twenty-five dollars for just bidding, and handing it over to me." I wished she had been kidding about this, but she wasn't. My boys, Andrew and Robert took the painting to the van, while I tried to beat a hasty retreat, to get rid of her. Then she turned on me, telling everyone she could at the sale, how Ted Currie ripped off the firemen. I love this business, but there are times folks, when my sense of humor becomes very strained. It can get very ugly out there, make no mistake about it, and although I'm pretty good at brushing this stuff off, it does tend to influence my enjoyment of the antique hunting experience. It's why I really like shopping outside the region, where I never feel obligated to provide my resume, and accompanying tutorial, every time I go to check-out my intended purchases.

     There are lots of good moments too. I'll tell you about those in upcoming blogs. Once again, please accept my heartfelt gratitude, for your support of this biographical blog, written from my little nuthatch, at Birch Hollow, in the heart of our beautiful little town, snow-clad as it is right now,……Gravenhurst, Ontario. I hope you'll decide to come back again, for this ongoing exploration of a profession I find fascinating……and at times, somewhat enchanting in the paranormal sense. I can tolerate the annoyances of the profession, because so much more of the experience, every day, each week and year, is so exciting and adventure-filled. The rough patches are imbedded in every profession, as a sort of commitment test. After thirty-five years of hunting and gathering for fun and profit, it's safe to say I'm pretty darn committed. At least that's what Suzanne says when I come home with yet another box of old books. But she words it differently……"you should be committed," I think she says. See you again soon.

   

     

Auction Misconceptions, About Antique Dealer Spending

THE SMART ANTIQUE HUNTER WILL ANALYZE THE DEALER'S HABITS

INSTEAD OF BEING ANNOYED BY OUR PRESENCE……FIGURE OUT HOW TO COMPLY AND OVER-TAKE

     ONE DAY, OUT FOR A FAMILY DRIVE, I CAME UPON A HOMEOWNER WITH A WIDE ARRAY OF REFURBISHED STEAMER TRUNKS ON HIS LAWN. THERE WERE A COUPLE OF SIGNS ON THE LAWN, ANNOUNCING THAT THESE NICELY REFINISHED TRUNKS WERE FOR SALE. IT WASN'T A YARD SALE AS SUCH. THIS INDIVIDUAL WAS BUYING, RESTORING AND RE-SELLING THESE WONDERFUL OLD RELICS OF YESTERYEAR'S TRAVEL, AS A SORT OF HOME OCCUPATION. SMART IDEA, AND AFFORDABLE IN A RETAIL SENSE. BY THE WAY, I ALWAYS HAVE A SMALL SELECTION OF STEAMER TRUNKS BECAUSE I LIKE THEM……AND THEY ARE ATTRACTIVE, FUNCTIONAL VINTAGE STORAGE UNITS, EVEN IN THE MOST CONTEMPORARY OF INTERIOR HOME DESIGNS.

     WHAT CAUGHT MY ATTENTION, OTHER THAN THE DOZEN OR SO TRUNKS SPREAD OUT ON THE LAWN, AND ONE AT ROADSIDE, WAS THE SIGN THAT READ, "OUR PRICE, $100….ANTIQUE STORE PRICE $250." AT THE TIME, AS A COLUMNIST WHO WROTE ABOUT ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES, FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, AS WELL AS HAVING A MAIN STREET SHOP, THIS WAS A SALE I NEEDED TO EXPLORE. I LIKED THE WORKMANSHIP, AND THE ATTENTION TO DETAIL, AND THE MAN'S ENTHUSIASM FOR RESTORATION OF SUCH BEAT-UP OLD TRAVEL MATES. I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO CHAT WITH THE RESTORER AND I DID COMPLIMENT HIS WORK. BUT I ASKED HIM TO EXPLAIN HIS SIGN LEANING UP AGAINST THE FIRST TRUNK, AT THE HEAD OF THE DRIVEWAY. I CASUALLY, WITHOUT ANY SARCASM, QUESTIONED HIM, AS TO WHAT HE MEANT EXACTLY, BY THE POSTED SIGN, COMPARING DEALER PRICES TO "CIVILIAN VALUATIONS." AND WHY HE WOULD INVENT SUCH A NUMBER DISCREPANCY; ESPECIALLY WHEN EACH OF HIS TRUNKS WAS REFINISHED TO HIS STANDARDS OF CARE, YET MOST TRUNKS IN LOCAL SHOPS WOULD BE EITHER IN THE ROUGH, OR ONLY JAZZED-UP WITH A LITTLE VARNISH. AT THE TIME I WAS VERY MUCH AWARE WHAT WAS BEING SOLD IN OUR SMALL ANTIQUE SELLING COMMUNITY.

     HE DIDN'T KNOW ME THEN, AS A DEALER, OR THAT HE HAD OFFENDED ME WITH HIS SIGN. I JUST WANTED TO KNOW HOW HE COULD GRAB A FIGURE OUT OF THE AIR, AND APPLY IT IN SUCH A MISLEADING WAY. I HAD NEVER SEEN A STEAMER TRUNK FOR THE PRICE HE WAS QUOTING. MOST OF THE TRUNKS I KNEW EXISTED, FOR SALE, AT THAT PRECISE MOMENT, WERE PRICED AT AROUND THE FIFTY DOLLAR MARK. SO LOW IN FACT, THAT THIS IS WHY HE WAS BUYING THE TRUNKS LOCALLY, RESTORING THEM, AND RE-SELLING THEM AT A SUBSTANTIAL MARK-UP. AS WE KNOW IN THE REFINISHING WING OF THE ANTIQUE PROFESSION, IT'S BLOODY HARD TO GET YOUR MONEY OUT OF A FULL SCALE RESTORATION. SO I DIDN'T QUESTION HIS HOURS OF WORK, OR MATERIAL EXPENSES, AND I CERTAINLY DIDN'T ARGUE ABOUT HIS PRICING. JUST THE BOGUS NUMBER HE WAS USING TO INFLATE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIS WARES AND THOSE AVAILABLE LOCALLY. I THINK I MAY HAVE EVEN HAD ONE IN THE SHOP, BUT CERTAINLY NOT VALUED TO WHAT HE WAS CLAIMING, WAS PRETTY MUCH STANDARD, SHOP TO SHOP.

     I ASKED HIM POLITELY WHERE HE WAS ABLE TO PURCHASE HIS TRUNKS IN-THE-ROUGH. HE SAID, WITH A LITTLE SMIRK, "THEY'RE ALL PURCHASED LOCALLY." "AT ANTIQUE AND SECOND HAND SHOPS," I ASKED. "HALF AND HALF," HE RESPONDED, EXPLAINING THAT HE ACQUIRED SOME AT YARD SALES, AND A FEW OUT OF THE REGION. YET HE ADMITTED HE WAS A REGULAR PURCHASER OF BEAT-UP TRUNKS FROM OUR LOCAL SHOPS. "I HOPE IF THOSE DEALERS POP BY, FOR A LOOK-SEE, THEY AREN'T OFFENDED BY YOUR SIGN AT THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY," I OFFERED AS ONE ANTIQUE LOVER TO ANOTHER. "WHY WOULD THEY BE OFFENDED," HE ASKED. "WELL, FOR ONE THING, IF THEY'RE SELLING YOU TRUNKS, AND YOU'RE BENEFITTING FROM THEIR HUSTLE GETTING THEM, DO YOU REALLY THINK IT'S WISE TO BESMIRCH THEM, BY POINTING OUT HOW MUCH THEY GOUGE IN PRICING……WHEN IN FACT YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T TRUE." THAT'S WHEN HE SAID SOMETHING, THAT ALWAYS MAKES ME MAD. "IN TORONTO THEY DO……." BEFORE MY HEAD BLEW OFF, IN A MIGHTY EXPLOSION OF BLOOD PRESSURE, I ANSWERED BACK WITH A HALE AND HARDY, "BUDDY, LOOK AROUND YOU. DOES THIS LOOK LIKE TORONTO?" I'VE HEARD THIS TORONTO REFERENCE A MILLION TIMES, AND I'VE SHOT BACK A RETORT EVERY SINGLE TIME. BASING PRICES ON WHAT HAPPENS IN TORONTO IS IRRELEVANT. OUR MARKET IS IN MUSKOKA, AND WHETHER OR NOT YOU HAPPEN TO BE FROM TORONTO OR EUROPE, IT DOESN'T MATTER A HOOT, WHAT THE PRICING TREND IS ELSEWHERE. THE TASK HERE, IS TO BASE IT ON THE AVERAGE PRICING OF PARALLEL ITEMS, THAT AREA ANTIQUE DEALERS ARE SETTLING ON, AS GOOD LEVELS TO START. THERE IS ALSO BARTERING TO FACTOR IN TO THE EQUATION. BUT GENERALLY, WE'VE LEARNED THAT TO ASK TORONTO PRICES, WHICH ARE USUALLY HIGHER, ON A MAJORITY OF ITEMS IN THE CLEARLY DEFINED ANTIQUE DOMAIN, IS TO DESTINE YOUR BUSINESS TO FALL BEHIND THOSE WITH MORE COMPETITIVE MARKETING…..WHO ARE AWARE THAT FOR MOST OF THE MONTHS OF THE YEAR, IT'S THE LOCAL CUSTOMERS PROPELLING THE ECONOMIC ENGINE……NOT THE TOURISM SECTOR. PRICING AS TORONTO DEALERS ISN'T PARTICULARLY WISE, WHEN FOR TEN MONTHS A YEAR, WE HAVE TO COUNT ON MUSKOKANS TO BUY OUR ANTIQUES. IF WE, AS DEALERS, ATTEND TORONTO ANTIQUE SHOWS, WELL, I SUPPOSE THE OLD ADAGE, "WHEN IN ROME," COVERS ALL EVENTUALITIES.

     I DID EVENTUALLY TELL MY STEAMER-TRUNK FRIEND THAT I WAS A DEALER IN TOWN, AND MY WIFE HAD SOLD HIM ONE OF THE TRUNKS THAT HE HAD ON DISPLAY. I POINTED OUT THAT HE HAD ACQUIRED IT FROM US FOR THE WHOPPING SUM OF THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS IN-THE-ROUGH. NOT THE PRICE HE WAS CLAIMING, WAS PRETTY MUCH STANDARD FOR ANTIQUE DEALERS FLOGGING STEAMER TRUNKS. HE BLUSHED A LITTLE, SEEMED UNCOMFORTABLE, AND OFFERED A SWEEPING SORT OF APOLOGY, FOR HIS HASTILY PREPARED SIGN. HE POINTED OUT THAT IT WAS JUST AN ADVERTISING PLOY, AND THAT HE WAS WELL AWARE OF THE DEALS HE WAS GETTING LOCALLY, AND THAT, OF COURSE, HIS MARKET WAS MUSKOKA…….WITHOUT MUCH INFLUENCE AT ALL FROM TORONTO. I WAS SATISFIED WITH HIS EXPLANATION. SO MUCH SO, AND WITH HIS QUALITY OF WORK, THAT FOR THE NEXT TWO YEARS WE SOLD MANY OF HIS TRUNKS AT BIRCH HOLLOW ANTIQUES, TO VERY HAPPY CUSTOMERS; WHO ALSO LIKED THE PRICE FOR THE REFINISHED PIECES. I WAS REALLY SORRY THAT HE QUIT RESTORING THESE BEAUTIFUL OLD CHESTS AND TRUNKS, WHEN HE MOVED FROM THE AREA TO PURSUE NEW OPPORTUNITIES. I'VE TRIED MANY TIMES TO COPY HIS METHODS OF RESTORATION, AND I'VE NEVER ONCE COME CLOSE TO WHAT I WOULD CRITIQUE AS A PARALLEL EFFORT. HE DID GOOD WORK, BUT GAVE UP THE ENTERPRISE FAR TOO SOON. I SELL A LOT OF TRUNKS TODAY IN-THE-ROUGH. I COULD USE HIS EXPERTISE. BUT STILL, IN RETROSPECT, IT WASN'T NICE TO TREAT HIS DEALER SUPPLIERS, WITH A SIGN THAT ACKNOWLEDGED OUR PRICE "GOUGING," WHEN IT SIMPLY WASN'T TRUE.

BLAME IT ON THOSE PESKY ANTIQUE DEALERS

     It happens a lot at auction sales…..that antique dealers are blamed for just about everything, including global warming. I remember standing behind a group of four card-carrying bidders, at one sale a few years ago, who were berating antique dealers, as being the scourge of the civilized world. "They bid up everything," one woman said to her chums in conversation. "You should see them loading their trucks at the end of the sale. They get all the good stuff," another claimed. "They shouldn't be able to control the auction like they do…..and the auctioneer always favors them because they're big spenders."

     Suzanne, overhearing the allegations and gross generalizations, pinched my arm through my sweater, with enough torque to actually leave a welt. "You're not going to say anything," she said. "They're just spouting off, that's all." They went on however, to explain how it works in the antique business, almost, but not quite, suggesting kick-backs and favors between the auctioneer and antique dealers they prefer. Well at least she said, "the dealers the auctioneer prefers," personalizing the matter of graft (and insider trading) to just a few dealers, and not the whole bunch of us. Obviously, this woman didn't believe all antique dealers were "on the take." "I'm going to leave you here, if you say one word to those people…..having a private conversation," Suzanne reminded me. She has left me at auctions before, taking the vehicle with her. When I'm bad, I'm real bad. It's one thing for me to take a few cheap shots, at my professional associates, from time to time, because they know my comments are coming from considerable experience. When those outside the profession, start assuming they know it all, and commence a campaign of outrageous slander, then it is the right occasion to remind them that dealers have feelings……even if they believe we have no scruples. Well then it gets all nasty, and Suzanne breaks out in red blotches, and I might have to hitch-hike home with a pine buffet strapped on my back, like the pioneers had to, breaking trail into Muskoka. If they could do it…….well, I couldn't. So I beg her forgiveness. I need the vehicle. Even if she's not talking to me, I need to get the auction purchases to the shop. You see I've got two strikes against me from the get-go. I'm a veteran dealer known for being outspoken, and I'm a long time newspaper columnist, with a penchant for political bashing. So I've got a lot of internal battles going on, to defend my profession, from unfair allegations and ridiculous generalizations. It's true, there are scoundrels amongst us, but this happens in every profession.

     On a previous occasion, and the one Suzanne loves to recall, a couple in front of me, at another auction, once again pointed out how unfair it was, that dealers got all the best antiques of the sale. She kept going on and on about all the money dealers have, and how they can just "blow everyone out of the water," with their big wads of money, stuffed into deep pockets. I felt a necessity to explain a few things about my own "lack of a wad," and that I have very seldom every felt as a preferred customer at an auction, here or anywhere else. It's true that I was a friend of most of our area auctioneers, God rest their souls, mostly because I was also a newspaper columnist, who did feature stories on them all. So I kind of snuck into this conversation, going on a few feet from my big ears. Without identifying myself as an antique dealer, I suggested to them that antique retailers were actually good to have at these sales, especially if your knowledge of pieces is a little thin. I noted that by bidding-up an antique dealer, who, for example, was showing a keen interest in a particular piece of furniture, rising above their final bid (and we all have those), by possibly ten increments, (if there are other bidders), you would still be getting a bargain if you won the item. The women looked at me as if I had just given them the theory of relativity. They really didn't get it. So I simplified it for them. Here's how that went.

     I said that "if a dealer purchased the antique pine buffet for the price of one hundred and fifty dollars, you would expect that the price would increase at least one hundred percent or more, by time it hit the floor of their shop." In many cases, depending on the deal they got, the increase could be much higher and for pine this is likely. "What does this mean for us then," one lady asked. "Well, what it means is that if you were to get the piece you want, for say fifty to seventy-five percent more, than the dealer's final bid, chances are, you saved at least fifty percent on the retail value of the buffet," I responded. "If the dealer was planning on taking a two hundred percent mark-up, or even more than than…..think about the savings from what you would pay, by purchasing at the auction price instead." I always use collectors and associate dealers as my auction guide and I'm also a dealer. "If you are concerned about the money you invest in a piece of antique furniture, as an example, outbidding a dealer by several increments, is a pretty good plan for acquiring something under value. Dealers very seldom increase their acquired wares less than a hundred percent," I reminded them. And I also let them know that all the antique dealers I know, have limited resources to draw from, and if there is this general assessment, that we're all wealthy, and can spend with reckless abandon, then there is a great and unfortunate misunderstanding about the antique profession. Maybe that's our fault as dealers, that we haven't bothered to educate the public, as well as our customers, that were not all cut from the historic novels of Charles Dickens……as scurrilous and mysterious characters, with ill-gotten money to spend with reckless abandon. If I was to arrive at one word to describe my antique dealer colleagues, it would be "frugal." Some more than others! 

     "You know a lot about antique dealers, don't you," questioned one of the two ladies, I'd been conversing with. "He should know……he's a dealer too," chirped a friend of mine, who had come to say hello, and heard some of my explanations to the women. Talk about a cold snow-clad shoulder, turned to me, after this revelation. They began talking to each other, as if I had shown my devious, unscrupulous side, by first listening-in to their conversation, and secondly, by offering unsolicited advice. I should have kept my mouth shut. Suzanne would have liked that. Still, you know, it bothers me that some people think like this, when it comes to how antique dealers acquire their inventory. We have to compete like everyone else. I'm not saying that there aren't occasional favors granted, like my friend David Brown was able to arrange, but then this was only in regards to moving some sale items up on the sale agenda; not actually getting financial favors. It's true, my old auctioneer friend Les Rutledge, used to stop looking for bids, if I was one of the bidders……and he knew that I had been losing most of the pieces I had been interested in, up to that point. I never condoned this, but at the time, I was pretty new to the auction game, so I wasn't sure what the rules of engagement were, between my role as a bidder, and Les, as the judge and chief of all that was fair and equal. I also wouldn't have hurt his feelings, because he thought he was extending Suzanne and I a kindness, as newlyweds, trying to outfit our first apartment.

     My advice to anyone at an auction, is to pay close attention to collectors and dealers. Collectors will generally bid more than dealers, because they don't have to worry about profit margins. Antique dealers have a lot of monthly expenses if they're running a shop, and they can't abandon sensibility when paying-out for their auction buys. So for the bidder, who wants a quality piece, with the potential of being at least doubled in value, regarding a final retail price, it's a pretty good strategy to jump in when the dealer's money has run out on an item, and carry on bidding against other competitors……keeping in mind the last bid placed by the dealer. It's like canoeing with an outrigger, or cycling with training wheels. Even passing a known collector's final bid by a few increments, is pretty safe if you're looking at value for your investment. Instead of being annoyed by intrusive dealers, "buying all the stuff," it should be considered a good guide for value-conscious bidding, to have dealers leading the way. It's the kind of intrusion I welcome. I have often outbid associate dealers, usually because the subject piece is more in my bailiwick of experience……such as with Canadian art, of which I'm reasonably knowledgeable. They may want to buy the painting, but not as much as I do, and with art especially, unless you're a specific art dealer, most get wobbly knees if they don't see me bidding. I like to step in before the auctioneer's gavel hits the block, and it usually works in my favor, that the bidding is derailed…..the cadence broken.

     When I decided to join the antique profession, an oldtimer in the industry, reminded me of the critical importance, of getting to know every collector and dealer operating in our region, as it would be necessary to my success, to learn from them, the tricks of winning at the acquisition game……especially at auctions, where it is very public; and regardless how invisible you think your bid is, with a wink-wink, you are still on display…….and people are watching intently, your every move until the bidding is declared over, and the item on the block, is announced as being "Sold!" So it's exactly what I did for the first ten years imbedded in the profession. I did biographies on all the key players, and I knew all the civilians and how they liked to bid, and by what increments, on certain items. Even though I don't attend nearly as many sales as I used to, ten years ago, I can pick up the vibe in a room in under five minutes of bidding action on antique pieces. I can spot winks and nods, because in my profession, you have to know who is bidding you up…….and they want to know all about me, especially if, as a newcomer, I intrude upon their sense of auction privilege; by forcing more aggressive competition for the best pieces. You have to be fearless if you want to win bids, and buy the best pieces up for sale. This doesn't mean being reckless. Most dealers arrive early at sales, and perform their due diligence, before the audience has reached full capacity. They've made copious notes on paper, or in their minds, about the coveted, valuable pieces, and set limits as to what they are willing to spend on each of the items, they would like to haul back to their shops, antique mall booths, or for online auctions. Those who are not antique dealers, have a wonderful opportunity to learn by immersion, into the world of rigorous competition, dealer against collector. In most cases folks, the average customer, home decorator, hobby collector, can easily out-bid both dealers and hard core collectors. I've been out bid on major works of art by home decorators, who just wanted a particular artist's work to hang in their home. So they pay the auctioneer, and the host of the sale, a parallel value to what I might have marked-up the painting, had I been the successful bidder. The point is, most bidders who crowd into auction sales, have more financial flexibility than dealers and collectors…..but they just don't seem to get it……that the proverbial ball is in their court, and there's not much we can do about it; except give off the aura that we will bid up to a million dollars to acquire a piece we most desire. Thus, indeed, we have to resort to being puff adders some of the time, to scare off the competition.

     Thanks for coming on over to my blog site today, for this little overview of auction bidding, and antique dealer scorning…..which is usually unjustified, and baseless. Please consider dropping by again soon, for some more antique chats, at fireside, about this historic profession of collecting and living with old stuff…..because it feels so right. Bye for now.

The Spirit Of Owen Staples, The Tricks Of Dave Brown

A LITTLE HELP FROM THE OTHER SIDE - NEVER HURTS

ROAD TRIP FINDS MAKE ME WANT TO TRAVEL MORE OFTEN - ACTUALLY, ALL THE TIME

     I WON'T TRY TO SELL YOU ON RELIGION. I AM NOT A REGULAR CHURCH GOER, AND MY GRANDFATHER STANLEY GAVE UP ON CHURCHES ALTOGETHER, AFTER HE BUILT ONE IN TORONTO, AND GOT STIFFED FOR HIS MONEY, BY THE UNCHRISTIAN CONGREGATION. YUP, HE SWORE-OFF CHURCHES FROM THE DEPRESSION YEARS ONWARD. IT DIDN'T MEAN HE WASN'T SPIRITUAL, AND I KNOW HE BELIEVED IN GOD. GOD MUST HAVE BELIEVED IN OLD STAN, BECAUSE HE BROUGHT HIM HOME, ON THE FRONT STEPS OF A CHURCH IN ST. PETERSBURG, FLORIDA. SO THERE'S A WEE BIT OF BLARNEY AND IRONY IN THE CURRIE / JACKSON CLAN; SO WHEN I WRITE ABOUT THE AFTER-LIFE, AND THE INFLUENCES OF SPIRITS MINGLING SOCIALLY, AMONGST US, IT'S NOT TO TRY AND INFLUENCE YOU INTO BELIEVING THERE ARE REAL-LIFE, EVERY DAY, STRANGE INTRUSIONS BETWEEN THOSE WHO HAVE PASSED, AND THOSE WHO STILL WANDER THE EARTH, IN LIFE.

    YOU CAN ALWAYS CONJURE UP MY "MUSKOKA AND ALGONQUIN GHOSTS"  BLOG, IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN OUR FAMILY'S ONGOING ENCOUNTERS WITH THE SPIRIT-KIND. AS FOR THE STORY I'M ABOUT TO RELATE, IT IS JUST ONE OF HUNDREDS OF PARANORMAL ENCOUNTERS, WE ROUTINELY EXPERIENCE OUT ON THE ANTIQUE HUNT. YOU DON'T HAVE TO BELIEVE IN GHOSTS. I DON'T GET MESSAGES FROM GHOSTS. I GET THEM FROM THOSE WHO HAVE CROSSED OVER. SPIRITS NOT APPARITIONS. I'VE BEEN COMMUNICATING WITH AN ARRAY OF FRIENDS AND FAMILY WHO HAVE PASSED, FOR DECADES NOW, AND I'M NONE THE WORSE FOR WEAR. AND I HAVEN'T BEEN HAULED OFF FOR THERAPY EITHER. I TOOK MEDIUM JOHN EDWARD'S ADVICE MANY YEARS BACK, AND BEGAN VALIDATING THOSE WHO HAD CROSSED OVER……AND REGULARLY ACKNOWLEDGING THEIR PERCEIVED SIGNS TO US, THAT THEY STILL HAVE THE ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE…..WHEN IT'S NECESSARY, TO THEM, TO PASS ON A MESSAGE. THIS IS WHEN FOR EXAMPLE, THEY WISH TO REMIND YOU OF SOMETHING IMPORTANT IN LIFE, AND INSPIRE YOU, BY VAROUS MEANS, TO RECOLLECT EVENTS AND OCCURRENCES OF THE PAST. THERE'S NOTHING SCARY ABOUT IT. NOTHING WORTHY OF EVEN A SHIVER. THE SIGNS ARE SUBTLE BUT INTERESTING. YOU'VE PROBABLY HAD LOTS YOU'VE MISSED, ESPECIALLY IF YOU DENY SUCH EVENTS TO OCCUR IN THE FIRST PLACE. I OPENED MY MIND TO POSSIBILITY AFTER THE FIRST DOZEN PARANORMAL EXPERIENCES, LIVING IN AN OLD AND VERY HAUNTED RESIDENCE.

    THIS IS A LONG INTRODUCTION, JUST TO TELL YOU FOLKS, THAT I TALK TO DEAD PEOPLE, AND THEY SEND BACK SIGNS TO ME. AS A WRITER, IT IS A CRITICAL RELATIONSHIP I USE ALL THE TIME. IN THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE FIELD, I STILL DRAW ON THE WISDOM OF MY COLLECTING BUDDY, DAVID BROWN. I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT MY DOZENS OF CROSS BORDER CONVERSATIONS WITH DAVID BROWN. ACTUALLY, THEY'RE KIND OF ONE SIDED CONVERSATIONS. HIS MESSAGES BACK TO ME ARE LIKE PUZZLE PIECES, THAT JUST KEEP SHOWING UP, UNTIL I GET THE WHOLE PICTURE. FOR SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS, AND ALSO VALIDATES THOSE WHO HAVE CROSSED OVER, THE STORY I'M ABOUT TO TELL, WON'T INSPIRE TOO MUCH SHOCK AND AWE. IN PARANORMAL CIRCLES, MY EXPERIENCES ARE ABOUT A TWO OUT OF TEN. BUT THE COINCIDENCES THAT WE EXPERIENCED TODAY, ARE STILL PRETTY NEAT, AND A GOOD EXAMPLE OF THE KIND OF LIFE WE LEAD IN THE INDUSTRY OF BUYING AND SELLING OLD STUFF. SO HERE GOES.

     AS I WROTE PREVIOUSLY, ABOUT SPIRITUAL INTERVENTIONS, IN THE WAY OF SIGNS, AND WITH PARANORMALLY ENHANCED ANTIQUE PIECES…..THAT MAY CARRY A GHOSTLY HITCH-HIKER, MY FORAY INTO ANY ANTIQUE SHOP OR MALL, IS LIKE WALKING INTO A TERMINAL OF ANXIOUS ENTITIES. I'M USUALLY HIT BY THIS IN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES, AND I GO WITH THE FLOW. I DON'T BLOCK THEM OUT OF MY MIND, OR REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE POSSIBILITY, THAT ONE OF THESE AT-LOOSE-ENDS SPIRITS, WOULD LIKE MY ATTENTION. AS I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH TIME TO WORK THE AISLES, I START EACH QUEST WITH THE SAME QUESTION TO DAVE BROWN……(WHO IS DECEASED BY THE WAY), TO POINT ME TO THE HOLY GRAIL, WHICH FOR ME IS EITHER MUSKOKA RELATED COLLECTIBLES, OR INTERESTING PIECES OF ART. DAVE USED TO SLEEP IN MY ARCHIVES ROOM, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, SO HE KNEW MY PASSION FOR CANADIAN ART. WHETHER OR NOT I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH THE DECEASED ISN'T IMPORTANT. LIKE A GOALTENDER WHO HAS TO TAP EACH GOALPOST THREE TIMES, ON EACH SIDE, BEFORE THE NEXT FACE-OFF, OR THE BATTER, WHO MUST TAP HIS BAT TO HIS CLEETS TWICE EACH FOOT, I HAVE MY OWN SUPERSTITIOUS OPENING STATEMENT, BEFORE I TRAVEL MORE THAN A FEW STEPS IN THE BUILDING. "DAVE, OLD BUDDY, SHOW ME THE WAY."

     THERE WERE TWO THINGS I WAS LOOKING FOR TODAY, WHEN WE WENT ON A ROAD TRIP TO BARRIE, TO BOTH THE 400 ANTIQUE MALL, AND THE BARRIE ANTIQUE MALL. I WANTED ANY "SLEEPER" CANADIAN ART, WHICH WAS PRICED BELOW VALUE, AND MUSKOKA RELATED BOOKS…..ESPECIALLY COOKBOOKS, AS WE ARE WORKING TO ESTABLISH OUR COOKERY HERITAGE RESOURCES, FOR OUR GRAVENHURST SHOP THIS SUMMER. WE WANT ALL MUSKOKA RELATED COOKBOOKS. TWO MINUTES INSIDE THE DOOR, SON ROBERT CAME RUNNING BACK TO THE DOOR TO MEET SUZANNE AND I, DEMANDING THAT WE FOLLOW HIM TO A GLASS CASE IN THE FIRST BOOTH OF THE HUGE MARKET. THERE IT WAS. A 1943 COPY OF "MUSKOKA RECIPES ……. OLD AND NEW, AS COMPILED BY THE WOMEN'S ASSOCIATION OF THE PORT CARLING UNITED CHURCH, PORT CARLING, ONTARIO." NOW WHEN YOU CONSIDER THE IMMENSITY OF THE 400 ANTIQUE MARKET, AND THE TRILLIONS OF ITEMS ON DISPLAY, FINDING A SMALL, STAPLE-BOUND VINTAGE COOKBOOK, FROM PORT CARLING, SEEMS LIKE THE "NEEDLE," FOUND IN THE PROVERBIAL "HAYSTACK." TWENTY BUCKS. SEEING AS THIS IS GOING TO BE IN OUR PERMANENT RESOURCE COLLECTION, WHICH WE WILL SHARE WITH PATRONS, TWENTY DOLLARS WAS AN INCREDIBLE VALUE. I HAVE SOLD PORT CARLING COOKBOOKS IN THE PAST, FOR THIRTY DOLLARS EACH. SO WE GOT A BOOK WE HAVE NEVER HAD BEFORE….AS THIS ONE IS THE ELUSIVE 1943 ISSUE, AND IT ONLY TOOK SEVERAL MINUTES TO MAKE THE WHOLE TRIP WORTHWHILE. IT GETS STRANGER.

THE MENTALIST, WELL SORT OF, BUT NOT QUITE

     Those who have hunted antiques with me, in the past, would admit that I withdraw from social intercourse, once the adventure begins in earnest. I wouldn't call it channeling, but by golly, I turn on to what I'm most interested in, that particular day. It changes of course, and can depend on the shopping list we have for customers back home. We often have "want lists" to work from, when we're heading off to some antique sale or shopping adventure. I can't hunt and converse that's for sure. I might talk to the dead, but not to the humans, because I wind up losing my focus. It's sort of like witching for water, except I'm looking for antiques and collectibles. So today we started off with a bang. Usually it will take hours for something like this to manifest, and it is always under the strangest circumstance. Such as dropping an invoice from your pocket, and while picking it up, you happen to notice the bottom book shelf, in a vendor's booth, and discover three or four significant Muskoka books. The boys have this happen constantly with vintage vinyl and guitars. Something inadvertently, draws them into a booth, and all of a sudden, they've found elusive records, and highly desirable musical instruments, from banjos, drums, cymbals to guitars. They just laugh about the coincidences, because they happen with such frequency now, that thinking about the paranormal connotation isn't necessary……for them to know and appreciate its handiwork. Robert found his own Holy Grail this afternoon, when he found the elusive Frank Zappa album, "Weasels Rip My Flesh," by Zappa and the "Mothers of Invention." He'd been looking for this record for a long time. So he found us a cookbook we needed, and had a bonus find for himself. Naw, I don't think the Zappa find was a sign from the great beyond, unless from Zappa himself, as a vote of thanks to a loyal fan.

     Today I wasn't having my usual banner exploration and discovery. Suzanne was finding a few bric-a-brac items, and vintage cookbooks which we are always looking for, but I just wasn't picking up the slightest vibe one way or the other. At one point, I blurted out "Dave, please show me what I'm missing here." Suzanne looked at me and said, "Dave's working for me today." Dave Brown loved antique hunting, especially old books and logging artifacts. He would have been there with us, if it had been humanly possible. Now in the afterlife, our meetings are kind of abstract, and based on him providing me with signs……and a little encouragement to search just a little more…..with added patience, which I'm usually short of by this time in the hunt. Unless of course my arms are laden with big finds. Today I would have taken a small find as a good sign. On the second last aisle, of our mall experience, I spotted a wooden crate on the floor of a booth on my right. As is common, this rather unremarkable box, and the collection of frames inside, beckoned me to look more closely. Now for some reason, even after begging for Dave's help, I didn't pay close attention on the first walk by, and that is surprising. I'm habitual with these kind of "come hither" vibes. I didn't stop in, but I said to myself, I bet there was something in that box Dave wanted me to see. Anyway, Suzanne and I went down the last aisle, and had to endure a terribly high pitched alarm, caused by a water leak in the bathroom. Apparently there was a wired-in sensor, to detect a flood of water, and it couldn't be disconnected. So we walked quickly by the restrooms, and decided at the end of our tour for the visit, to take a venture back up the same aisle we had visited a few moments earlier. I didn't need that sound in my ear again. I really wanted to find something. I was on the right track. When we dawdled our way up to the last few booths before the sales counter, it's as if my head was being twisted by forces unknown. I looked at that box with the picture frames in it, for the second time, and I knew it was necessary for me to explore. Now only seeing the outline of frames from a distance, I had the name "Owen Staples" hitting from one side of my sensory perception to the other. "Wouldn't that be nice," I muttered to myself, leaving Suzanne asking what I wanted. Were you talking to me," she asked. I didn't answer. I dove into the box with anticipation, a holy grail was hiding there. It took ten seconds, for me to extract an engraving of University of Toronto's "Hart House," by……well, Owen Staples. He was a highly accomplished Canadian artist, and I have sold a number of his engravings in the past, all for considerable money.

     I said, "Dave did it again Suzanne. You're never going to believe what I just found." All she saw was the picture from about ten feet away, and stated, "It's an Owen Staples isn't it?" "Yes it is," I answered happily. "You know what the building is in the picture?" "It's Hart House, right," she replied. "It's where we had your book launch; you see I do remember?" She was referring to the book Muskoka photographer Tim DuVernet, and I, wrote back in the early 1980's, entitled "Memories and Images." Tim's mother, Sylvia, a well known writer, connected to the University of Toronto, booked Hart House for us, for a special Toronto book launch. I was so proud to take Suzanne, my soon to be bride. Now Owen Staples was a legendary character in Canadian art, and a mainstay as an illustrator for University of Toronto yearbooks. The well conserved and framed engraving, was priced at $45, which was an amazing bargain. The art value of this depiction will be around $250, based on the size of the picture. So yes, this was a "sleeper" piece of Canadian art. Okay, it gets stranger than this.

     When we drove north to the Barrie Antique Mall, we had been looking around for about fifteen minutes. I was still thinking Owen Staples, and unconsciously I suppose, thanking David for insisting that I look through the box of framed art work. We went into a crowded corner room of the antique mall, and I've got to tell you, there were thousands of pieces for sale in a small, small room. Every time I go to this mall, the room I'm describing, is the one place in the whole building, where I find a lot of treasures. We have similar tastes in art, books and artifacts. Suzanne was deep into a pile of old books, looking for any cookery titles. She yelled across the room, "Ted, come here. You are not going to believe this." She held open a scrap book with news clippings glued inside. She had opened the page to a 1936-37 collection of articles, the top one pasted to the upper left, was headlined, "Owen Staples, Great Artist, Fifty Years With Telegram, Marks Seventieth Birthday." Out of a sea of collectibles, and miles of antique wares, on two floors, the first book she actually opens in the Barrie Antique Mall, contains a brief biography of the artist, of the engraving, I just purchased at the very end of our tour at the 400 Market. Weird? Coincidental. The odds? Staggering, that this could happen as such. As a bonus bit of weird. I was standing at the counter, while Suzanne paid for our purchases, and something on the wall kept commanding my attention. There were many vintage business signs nailed to the wall, and I guess Dave was getting mad that I was missing what he wanted me to see. Moments before I was to head down stairs, I took one more glance at the wall to my left, heading out the door. There it was. A business sign for "Sunshine Uniforms," of Toronto……a laundry service that my father Ed worked at, as a driver, before he married my mother. His boss, who he adored, was Joe Sunshine. Shortly before Ed died, I remember talking with him in the hospital, about his days working for Joe, and the trucks he had to drive that didn't have any heaters in the cabs. Coincidence. Maybe. Message from the other side? Dave and my dad are teaming up to keep us Curries on the straight and narrow.

     Getting back to the article on Owen Staples, here are a few lines from the published biography dated Septemeber, 1936. "Owen Staples, O.S.A. for fifty years a member of the staff of The Evening Telegram, is today celebrating his seventieth birthday. One of Toronto's best known and best loved artists, Owen Staples, was born in Stoke-on-Hamdon, Sumersetshire, England, on September 3, 1866, and came to Canada at the age of six years. From his boyhood he loved to paint and in his youth he studied under famous teachers in Rochester, New York City, Philadelphia, and Toronto. His first canvas was exhibited at the Powers' Art Gallery, Rochester, when he was but thirteen years of age, and to his delight it was deemed worthy of a prize.

     "As a young man he joined the staff of The Telegram, and for many years worked on the John Ross Robertson collection, of Landmarks and on newspaper cartoons. Later he devoted his time to larger paintings and his works of old Toronto and 'Muddy York,' which hang in the City Hall, which have for years been a centre of interest and admiration. Mr. Staple's pen has sketched hundreds of pictures for the John Ross Robertson historical collection in the Reference Library, College Street." As a sidebar to this, I have the original published list of the John Ross Robertson Collection, that includes listings for many of Mr. Staple's historic sketches. I just can't find it. I kept it by my desk here at Birch Hollow, because it contained a great deal of reference material on historic Muskoka sketches, by Mr. Harolow-White, dating back to the 1870's. The book went missing just before Christmas. Maybe if I ask Dave to help me find it, the book will appear sometime in the next two weeks. Most likely found when the cats at play, knock down a pile of books…….and there it will be in all its glory.

     "Owen Staples was elected a member of the Ontario Society of Artists in 1902. He has exhibited pictures at the Chicago World Fair, the Pan American Exhibition, the St Louis Exposition, the Art Gallery in London, and in various cities in Canada and the United Stares during the past forty years. Many Toronto public buildings have been enriched by the paintings of Mr. Staples. In 1919 he presented to the Danforth Avenue Baptist Church a large mural in memory of the men of that church who lost their lives during the Great War. Two large murals hang on the east and west walls of the RCYC. A life-size portrait of the late John Ross Robertson, presented by the staff of The Evening Telegram to the trustees of The Telegram, which hangs in the office, was painted my Mr. Staples. Owen Staples has many other interests besides his art. he is a member of the Canadian Author's Association, the Rose Society, and the Arts and Letters Club. He is a lover of music and has been a member of the first tenor section of the Mendelssohn Choir since its inception."

     Yes, it was an interesting day…..yet still quite commonplace for us. If I can have this kind of good fortune, talking to the dearly departed, whether it's possible or delusional on my part, I'm not going to stop what has become a tradition of asking the spirits for their kind assistance…..if they're not busy being guardian angels elsewhere. It's somewhat the same, as the story about the mother who had a boy who thought he was a chicken. When a friend asked her why she just didn't confront the boy with the truth, that he was definitely not a chicken, she answered, "Well, I would, but we need the eggs." Whatever works for you! By the way, and in case you are wondering, we never ask for help when picking lottery numbers. That would be cheating, me thinks.

     Bless you for coming to keep me company. I have lots of road trip stories upcoming in you're interested. As for big finds out there……trust me, it's like digging for gold, in a gold mine. Don't believe those impatient folks, who will tell you all the good antiques are gone. It just isn't so, and a lot of collector / dealers, are coming up with major finds every day of the year. Finding an Owen Staples engraving guaranteed this was a good day in the antique profession. The fact that I got to spend another day on this beautiful old earth, with my wife Suzanne, and sons Andrew and Robert, was a divine pleasure. I love our antique adventures. It's history. Family history too. See you again soon. Drive carefully out there. It's almost March…..the boys of summer start the exhibition season this week. Oh glory, the spring is just around the corner. And an early Easter holiday as well. Lots to look forward to!

 

BREAKING NEWS: WHEN I TOLD SUZANNE ABOUT THE FURTHER COINCIDENCE OF OWEN STAPLES WORKING ON THE J. ROBERTSON COLLECTION AND MY MISSING BOOK SHE SAID "YOU MEAN THIS ONE?" I SAID " THAT IS THE ONE!" SO THIS IS MY POINT. PARANORMAL IS COMMON PLACE IN OUR LIVES.

The Pots, Pans, Baking Tins and Frying Pans of The Country Auction

WHY GO TO A COUNTRY, FARM OR ESTATE AUCTION? IT'S NOT JUST FOR ANTIQUE HUNTERS

IT'S AMAZING THE BARGAINS YOU CAN SCORE AT AN AUCTION SALE

     THE AUCTIONS I USED TO ATTEND REGULARLY, HERE IN THE MUSKOKA HINTERLAND, WERE PROFITABLE IN A NUMBER OF WAYS. FIRST OF ALL, AS ANTIQUE DEALERS IT'S A WAY OF BUYING IN BULK FOR THE SHOP. IT'S AN EVENT WHERE YOU CAN NETWORK AND SOCIALIZE WITH OTHERS IN THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE INDUSTRY. AND YOU CAN ACQUIRE USED MATERIALS FOR HOME, HOUSE AND GARDEN, FOR A FRACTION OF THE PRICE, THE ITEMS SELL FOR NEW. IN FACT, THEY CAN BE ACQUIRED MOST OFTEN, CHEAPER THAN AT YARD SALES, AND WITHOUT THE STOP AND START DRIVING ALL OVER THE REGION. HERE'S HOW IT ALL WORKED…..FOR US. I HAVE TO WRITE OF THIS RETROSPECTIVELY, BECAUSE I HAVEN'T PURCHASED ANYTHING AT AN AUCTION FOR THE PAST FIVE YEARS……SIMPLY BECAUSE THERE HAVE BEEN VERY FEW IN OUR AREA OF SOUTH MUSKOKA. WHEN THERE HAS BEEN AN AUCTION, IT HAS BEEN A SPECIFICALLY "ANTIQUE" EVENT, WITH ITEMS CONSIGNED BY GENERALLY CASH-STARVED DEALERS (AND COLLECTORS), AS A BUSINESS FUNDRAISER. I NEVER GO TO THESE EVENTS AND I WILL NOT PAY A BUYER'S PREMIUM. CALL ME OLD FASHIONED. IF THE OLD TIMER AUCTIONEERS I KNEW, AND RESPECTED, DIDN'T NEED TO CHARGE BUYER'S PREMIUMS, THEN THE NEW BREED OF AUCTION CALLERS DOESN'T NEED TO EITHER. I LIKE THE AUCTIONS I ATTEND, TO BE SOCIABLE, INTERESTING, RANDOM, OF A HOUSEHOLD NATURE (EG. ESTATE), AND NEVER REQUIRE AN AUCTION PADDLE. I WANT THE FOOD VENDOR TO HAVE SOME BALLPARK HOTDOGS, SAUSAGES ON A BUN….FOR WHEN I'M HAVING A REALLY GOOD DAY, AND THE POP SHOULD BE ICE COLD…..AND THE COFFEE MUST TASTE LIKE COFFEE. I WANT TO RELAX, BID A LITTLE, CHAT WITH OUR FRIENDS, LOOK AND LEARN, AND WELL, HAVE A FULL LOAD OF ACQUISITIONS AT THE END OF THE SALE. THIS TEN YEARS AGO, AND FURTHER BACK, WAS A NORMAL WEEKEND AUCTION SALE. IT HAD EVERYTHING I WANTED, AND OUR FAMILY WAS THERE AS ENTHUSIASTIC PARTICIPANTS. WE DROPPED THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS AND INVESTED A LOT OF QUALITY TIME. OF COURSE I'M DISAPPOINTED THOSE DAYS ARE LONG GONE.

     IN PREVIOUS COLUMNS (BLOGS), I WROTE ABOUT MY INTEREST IN THE TRADITIONAL AUCTION JOB-LOT, WHERE MANY BOXES OF HARD TO SELL (ON THEIR OWN) BOXES OF KITCHENWARE AND BOOKS ETC., ARE COMBINED AS A LOT AND MAY REPRESENT FROM FIVE TO FIFTEEN BOXES. THE AUCTIONEER MIGHT BE RUNNING BEHIND SCHEDULE, AND CAN'T DELAY SELLING THESE INDIVIDUAL BOXES, OF LARGELY THE SAME CONTENTS……HARVESTED FROM AN ESTATE KITCHEN, FOR EXAMPLE. THE BEST JOB-LOT TO FIND, IS ONE THAT IS CLEARLY A KITCHEN CLEAN-OUT, (BECAUSE YOU'VE STUDIED IT IN ADVANCE), IF YOU APPRECIATE AND CAN BENEFIT FROM THE COOKERY COLLECTIBLES WITHIN. SINCE WE BEGAN IN THE ANTIQUE AND COLLECTIBLE TRADE, THESE VINTAGE AND NOSTALGIC KITCHEN COOKWARE, UTENSILS, DEVICES, ROLLING PINS, (GLASS AND WOODEN), MUFFIN AND BREAD PANS, AND THE LIST GOES ON AND ON, HAVE BEEN OUR PROVERBIAL "BREAD AND BUTTER," IN TERMS OF PROFITABILITY. WHAT WOULD ALWAYS MAKE THIS A REAL BARGAIN, IS WHEN THE AUCTIONEER WAS JUST ABOUT TO MOVE ON TO THE NICE VINTAGE FURNITURE, EVERYONE AT THE SALE HAD BEEN WAITING FOR…..BUT HANG ON…..NOT US!  WE WANTED THE JOB-LOT. THE APPROACH OF THE FURNITURE PART OF THE SALE, WOULD CREATE A RUSH TO GET COFFEES, AND BUTTER-TARTS (WHEN AVAILABLE), AND START FORMING RINGS AROUND WHAT IS ALWAYS THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE AUCTION. I SHOULD EXPLAIN, THAT A MAJOR SHIFT FROM BRIC-A-BRAC TO BIG TICKET ITEMS, WARRANTED A COFFEE BREAK FOR THE AUCTIONEER, AND THE AUDIENCE. THIS GENERALLY LEFT ONLY A FEW SOULS LEFT TO BID ON THE JOB-LOT OF BOXES, AND BECAUSE WE KNEW THE VALUE OF THE COLLECTIBLES INSIDE THOSE BOXES, IT WAS ALMOST HUNDRED PERCENT ODDS, THAT WE WOULD BE LOADING THEM INTO OUR VAN AFTER THE BIDDING. BY THIS POINT AUCTION GOERS GET WEARY OF THE "SMALLS" AS THEY ARE CALLED. IN THOSE REGULARLY GATHERED "JOB-LOTS" OF "SMALLS", THE ASTUTE BUYER COULD ACQUIRE BOXES OF VINTAGE AND NEW LINENS, FROM TABLE CLOTHES TO PILLOW CASES……BEDSPREADS, SHEETS, BATHROOM MATS (ALL CLEANED), AND METERS OF FABRIC. SUZANNE HAS PURCHASED THOUSANDS OF YARDS OF FABRIC IN THIS BULK (REALLY CHEAP) FASHION, BECAUSE OF HER SEWING PROJECT NEEDS, AND THIS WAS A HELL OF A WAY TO MAKE SOME AFFORDABLE ACQUISITIONS. YOU'RE RIGHT. BUT YOU DON'T REALLY GET TO SELECT THE FABRIC YOU REALLY WANT…..JUST WHAT IS BEING OFFERED FOR AUCTION. SUZANNE IS ONE OF THOSE "MAKE-DO, WORK-WITH-WHAT-YOU'VE-GOT" KIND OF PEOPLE……SO THESE AUCTION JOB-LOTS ALWAYS PAID DIVIDENDS, WHEN FABRIC WAS NEEDED "DOWN THE ROAD." THE SAME WITH WOOL. WE HAVE OLD PINE CUPBOARDS HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, FULL OF THESE COLORFUL BALLS OF WOOL, FOUND AT AUCTIONS IN LARGE QUANTITIES. SHE MAKES MITTS, SCARVES, TOQUES AND TAMS FROM THIS FOUND WOOL, AND ALTHOUGH SHE HAS TO ADJUST TO THE QUANTITY, THOSE WHO BUY HER WINTER-WEAR, ARE HAPPY THAT THEY ARE HOME-CRAFTED……REGARDLESS OF THE COLOR. ARE THEY WARM? YOU BET.

     AS WELL, WHEN SUZANNE AND I FIRST STARTED GOING TO AUCTIONS, THEN UNDER THE CAPABLE DIRECTION OF LES RUTLEDGE, AND THEN ART CAMPBELL, WHO HAD ACTUALLY WORKED ALONGSIDE LES, WHEN THERE WERE MAJOR ESTATE SALES,….. WE  USED WHAT LITTLE MONEY WE HAD, TO BUY UP THE BEST QUALITY POTS, PANS, BAKING TRAYS, MUFFIN TINS, MOULDS FOR JELLIES, AND CAST IRON FRYING PANS. IN FACT, WE WERE ABLE TO OUTFIT A KITCHEN WITH COOKWARE, AFTER ONLY THREE ESTATE SALES, DURING THAT SUMMER AUCTION SEASON, BEFORE OUR SEPTEMBER MARRIAGE. WE'RE PROUD OF THIS, BECAUSE WITH WEDDING GIFTS OF THE HOMEMAKING KIND, AND OUR AUCTION ACQUISITIONS, WE HAD AMAZINGLY WELL STOCKED CUPBOARDS…..THAT COULD HAVE EASILY BEEN TURNED INTO A COMMERCIAL KITCHEN WITH A FEW MINOR TWEAKS. NOW THERE ARE A LOT OF FOLKS, WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN TO AUCTIONS; OR THOUGHT OF THEM AS VIABLE, SENSIBLE, AFFORDABLE SHOPPING LOCATIONS AND ALTERNATIVES, FOR BUYING NEW STUFF. THEY WILL MOST LIKELY FIND THIS CRAZY-TALK, THAT THERE ARE ACTUALLY THESE KIND OF BARGAINS AVAILABLE, FOR THOSE WHO AREN'T INTERESTED IN THE ACRES OF ANTIQUES BEING OFFERED. I JUST KIND OF TAKE IT FOR GRANTED, AND I DON'T OFTEN WRITE ABOUT THIS ASPECT OF THE SALES; JUST BECAUSE I FIGURE MOST PEOPLE ARE AWARE THAT THERE IS A WILD AND DIVERSE SELECTION OF GOODS AT A TYPICAL ESTATE AUCTION. "ESTATE" USUALLY MEANS DISPERSAL OF EVERYTHING A FORMER OWNER POSSESSED. SO EVEN IF YOU'RE A HOME DECORATOR, A HOBBY CRAFTSPERSON, PROFESSIONAL SEAMSTRESS, KNITTER, HOME-MAKER, GARDENER, OR HOME HANDYMAN, THESE AUCTIONS CAN BE VERY SURPRISING, AND OFFER SOME AMAZING DISCOUNTS ON NEARLY NEW ITEMS. WE'VE BOUGHT JOB-LOT BOXES OF BEDROOM ITEMS, AND FOUND EATON'S DEPARTMENT STORE SHEETS, IN EVERY SIZE, STILL IN THE PLASTIC WRAP. THE PRICE. PENNIES, WHEN ALL THE OTHER VALUATIONS OF ARTICLES IN THE BOXES ARE CONSIDERED. I CAN'T POSSIBLY TELL YOU ALL THE NEAT FINDS WE'VE MADE IN THESE BOXES, OF FIFTY TO SEVENTY-FIVE YEAR OLD DEPARTMENT STORE WARES, STILL IN THE ORIGINAL BOXES, INCLUDING VINTAGE DRINKING GLASSES THAT HAVE NEVER BEEN USED.

WHY AREN'T THEY MORE EAGERLY SOUGHT AFTER…..SENDING THE PRICES UPWARD?

     As I written about in previous blogs, when I first began attending auctions, my primary interest was to acquire antique shop inventory as cheaply as possible. I was glad to buy "in the rough" pieces, because I was pretty fair at refinishing. So I could buy a harvest table with broken legs, with seven coats of paint, for fifty bucks, and do the work myself to upgrade it; often more than quadrupling the value and making us a small but significant profit. I could refinish a harvest table in three days with a casual pace. The drying of the varnish took a little extra time. So the initial success at auctions, was that, in those days, most people wanted perfectly refinished pieces…..of oak and pine, and weren't prepared to put in the work to refinish the "as-is" furnishings. I would get offers on the pieces I'd purchased, before I hauled them home. The deal was, they would come to the shop for first refusal on the pieces, when they were cleared of the layers of old paint, and the wood mended, and cracks repaired. I sold a lot of pieces this way, and this fast. But what it meant at the actual auction level, was that because I was willing to put in the sweat equity, and refurbish the old beat-up furniture, my acquisition prices were generally very low. Bidders kept their cash reserves for the nicely aged Hoosier cupboards and pie safes, further up the auction line. I could buy most of the in-the-rough pieces and still have only spent two or three hundred dollars. The only thing about this, was that the stripping job was horrendously difficult, and as I'm injury prone, I looked like an Egyptian mummy, in bandages, at the end of each job. At times, sitting in my workshop with a cold and well deserved beer, I'd herald a little personal reflection on my life as a recent university graduate. I had a degree in history, but I sure as hell didn't need a degree to refinish this furniture. Gradually I moved out of this area of labor, because I wasn't able to profit as much as once, because even the as-is pieces were starting to sell for more and more each auction. But there's no question that I benefitted in the early years of the profession, as a result of being handy enough, to be able to engage the tools of the trade, and get a cupboard from the horrid stage, to "living room perfect." Today a lot more people prefer leaving these major furniture pieces, like harvest tables and flat-to-the-wall cupboards with their original finishes, and have actually begun paying way more for the privilege of having an antique with "historic patina." Boy oh boy, did I ever remove a lot of historic patina. Of course then, my customers didn't want worn finishes and flaking paint in their houses. It's a new era. A visually distressed piece is an honest antique……that couldn't have been re-produced. A lot of folks feel this way about authenticity, and they're not wrong to think this way…….particularly if they're buying off an estate sale. I prefer original finishes now, but I'm actually just wimping-out, because my best refinishing days are over. Too many aches and pains in the old joints, to do the same handiwork, as when I was in my twenties…..believing nothing could hurt this beautiful, muscle rippling body. Okay, you caught me in a lie. I wasn't beautiful. But yes I had lots of muscles. I used to lift weights for recreation. I regret that now, as I can hardly get off the couch any more……and have to unceremoniously drop and roll, and hope the momentum will allow me to rise from my knobby knees. Just one more thing on the subject of refinishing. One of my first refinishing jobs was to a beautiful circa 1860's pine buffet with elaborate carved handles on the drawers. I worked hard on that piece, and it took a whole week to perfect. I came back to the shop one day, and my mother, wearing a big retailer's smile, told me that she had good news. "I sold the cupboard Ted……for full price." Well sir, that was good news. The bad news? It was conditional on me removing the high gloss varnish. At least "dulling it down," as the customer had requested. Customer requests? I've got many blogs coming about customer requests "by the Jesus." A dealer's nightmare. The request! It took two hours of my time, to reduce that finish to low luster. I have never again used anything high gloss, for fear of the same type of customer request.

     Having attended auctions with a modest budget, (cause that was all I had to my name, on that day, or week), I soon learned how to deal with my wants as related to cash availability. I watched the auction trends from sale to sale, and over a couple of years, I had found many habitual characteristics of the audience and specific bidders. I knew how to identify the peak times from the low moments, when the auctioneers would have a hard time getting even a dollar bid, of for example, one of these major job-lots. In fact, it's how the job-lot morphed from one box of glassware, to ten boxes of kitchen related utensils, pots and pans. Each time a bid couldn't be secured, something was added to the length of table in front of the audience, to sweeten the deal. The last auction I was at, the auctioneer simply pulled the box from the table, when he couldn't get a starting bid. This he declared "unsaleable," which to me was sacrilege. Of course it was salable, but more boxes and items needed to be added. I hate when people screw with tradition as I know it! So it's lucky Suzanne and I were setting up house at a time when the traditional job-lot, was still a useful way of selling otherwise unwanted items in bulk. I can honestly say, that I never purchased one of these bulk lots, without making at least a thousand percent profit on the sale of individual items…..without ever once gouging on asking prices. We have always priced at least twenty-five percent below, what is being charged by our nearest competitor. Same thing today. Of course, we don't get the same job-lot bargains of once…..and that's a real shame.

     So the point is, Suzanne and I became imbedded students of the country auction, and keen watchers of all the auctioneers who came into our bailiwick for occasional sales. We knew when there was going to be a lull in bidding. For example, when a nice piece of vintage furniture sold for a substantial whack of money, such that the audience actually clapped for the winner of the intense bidding war, the very next item up for sale, most often sold well under value. That's what I often went after, and it was easy to pre-plan. I knew what was going to inspire the most aggressive bidding, so if there was something of interest to us, next in line, I was always ready to fire off a wink at my auctioneer friend. I've watched many of these fine pieces, such as china cupboards and Victorian Setees, bedsteads and balloon back chairs, sell for way under their antique value, because the crowd was pre-occupied, talking about the high selling price of the item just before. This also happens when there are furniture pieces ahead in the sale, that will inspire bidders to hold back some reserve cash, just in case they want to bid. This is good for me, because most of the time, the good items in between, will sell more affordably because of this fiscal restraint…..to be unleashed on another better furniture item. Funny thing then, is that the twenty or so potential bidders on the best pieces to come, have put all their proverbial eggs in one basket, and only one will win the coveted piece. So this saving-up-for-the-best-furniture (glass, clocks, china works in the same way), takes away a lot of competition for us. There are hundreds of tricks and important insights about bidding habits, that we've documented, thusly, allowing us (very frugal buyers), to sneak below the radar, as they say, and snag some big buys for little bucks. Dealers and collectors know all this stuff too, but we differ slightly, in that we seldom go after the best auction items, thusly staying out of their line of fire. And yes it's true, that handshake deals are made before the bidding commences, between dealer colleagues, about bidding up certain pieces of interest. These deals aren't good for the auctioneer or the estate (or sale host), because it limits competition. This goes back centuries, where dealers formed their own little groups, to corner the most desirable auction wares, and remove price-increasing bids from competing antique dealers. In other words, dealers would agree to who, (of their loose arrangement to break-up the conventions of the typical estate auction), would bid for choice pieces, so as to avoid bid escalations. At the end of the sale, the items purchased, would be auctioned privately, within the dealer collective…..and never with the auctioneer's blessing. While we didn't do this, as a rule, we did make deals like "I won't bid you up on the grandfather clock, if you don't bid me up on the Fenton cranberry glass bowl." It still wouldn't be auctioneer approved, but they can't stop it from happening either. We consider it a professional courtesy between dealers. But it does reduce competitive bidding, on those select auction materials, especially the major antiques; and considering that dealers will spend several thousand dollars at these sales, cutting down rivalry is never a good thing for the bottom line. It's just a fact of business and coexistence of others. This also happens amongst collectors and general bidders, who talk amongst themselves, and try whatever means possible, to diminish obstacles in their way……which of course, are the big money bidders who have a no-holds-barred philosophy.

     I'll share a few more auction secrets and bidding tips in tomorrow's blog…….in case you want to brush up on some of your acquisition skills. Keep in mind, like a hockey player using his skill to score game winning goals, antique and collectible dealers, have to rely on their acquired and finely honed skills, to maintain profitable businesses. I've watched a lot of failed antique dealers in my day, who didn't think they had to apprentice with their elders in the profession. Wrong decision. The antique buy and sell is a minefield for many different reasons. Like the untutored art seller who buys a five thousand dollar copy of a major art work…….and then, when informed, lets out one of those honking big "doahs," made famous by Homer Simpson……just before weeping about the sorry state of the union. I am still apprenticing after thirty-five years in the trade. I expect to die of senior age, still working on the learning curve. But you know what? With the changes in technology, it's the same in a lot of professions these days. Just when you thought you knew it all…..whammy, the rules change and so does the job.

     Thanks for joining me today, for a wee peek at the inner workings of country and estate auctions. There are some trade secrets I'd like to share, seeing as this is my swan-song biography. While I'm still a million dollars shy of being a millionaire, I've loved this profession for every one of the past 35 years, and yup, I'd like 35 more to enjoy. It's because of the attached adventures, that keeps me coming back for more. See you again soon. Drive carefully out there. Another wallop of winter is expected on Tuesday,.,,,,oh joy. I'm heading to hearthside at this moment. My feet are still cold from last night's outdoor festivities at the annual Gravenhurst Winter Carnival. It was the hallmark weather of the traditional Canadian Winter from my youth. But now unfortunately, I'm just an old fart who likes to be warm and cozy. Like now. Bye.