WHEN YOU BUY A REPAIRED ANTIQUE, OF DUBIOUS INVESTMENT VALUE, THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW HAD BEEN BROKEN, OR IN NEED OF FIXIN'?
IT DEPENDS WHAT THE REPAIR REPRESENTS, WHEN IT WAS MADE, AND HOW MUCH WAS ALTERED! IS IT WORTH SOMETHING, OR NOTHING?
NOTE: Beginning officially on March 15th, everything sticking to game plan, our combined businesses will be re-activating our well established ebay auction site, as part of our antique business upgrades, for 2015, all radiating from our shop, situated in the former Muskoka Theatre building, in Uptown Gravenhurst.
For many years, before our present antique shop was opened, in this location, at 230 Muskoka Road South, we sold most of our old books, art and ephemera, on our ebay site, where we literally connected with the collecting world. Our specialty was selling Muskoka related collectables, but we have sold items large and small, in all styles of antiques and collectables, including a table top cream separator, we purchased from a Gravenhurst farm, eventually being sent to another hobby farm in Oklahoma. When we decided to open the shop, in partnership with our sons' vintage music business, which had already been in operation for most of a decade, we gave up the ebay auction side of business, to focus on storefront operation. Now that we have got the shop in good shape, we decided to re-activate our ebay site, which has a good track record, to sell some items that are difficult to market successfully to a walk-in clientele. Some of our collectable and antique pieces, require an international audience of collectors, for enough visible exposure to sell. And this is ultimately, the objective for folks like us. We love shop life but we really enjoy the connections we make when selling world-wide.
We will keep you up to date on what we're selling on ebay, just in case you decide to check out our site at any time, following the 15th of the month. Currently, we have one listing active, being the crested Windermere House wash basin, we purchased as a display piece last spring, to share with our customers. We think it's time to pass it on to another admirer of Muskoka's resort history, who will undoubtedly re-share the heritage hotelware in their particular neck of the woods. If you want to see the "made in Toronto" wash basin, you can see it by searching "Muskoka" or "Windermere House, Lake Rosseau." It will be up for auction during the next ten days. Additionally, those who wish to save on shipping costs, for any of our pieces listed for auction, can be picked up from our Gravenhurst shop. While we won't be selling dressers, flat-to-the-wall cupboards, or anvils, we will be offering some very unusual pieces from our private stock, that have never made it to the shop shelves. Many of these pieces are difficult to display properly in the retail environment, without employing large and space-consuming showcases. This is the retirement aspect of the antique business we were going to stick with, until the boys invited us to join them in the present shop, as rear section tenants. It was a great business opportunity but it only temporarily sidelined our online sales, which we plan to continue until the end of time; our time I suppose you could say. We like it most because of efficiency, and the fact we can reach so many more potential buyers than we can, by the happenstance of shoppers dropping in for a look-see.
We'll announced our official launch on Suzanne's facebook page, and I will make sure to make mention, on this blog page, prior to our first new listing. To ask questions about the listings, well, you know how to get in touch with us. This is a big improvement from the old days, when we didn't have our media network to partner our ebay side of the business. Just so you know, we don't hold back the good stuff; at least for very long. As for the Windermere House wash basin, as Muskoka collectors, it was a sort of holy grail, in terms of crested-hotelware, so we wanted to say we owned it even for a short period of time. We've enjoyed its company. It was a little more important for Suzanne, because her family once owned the Windermere Marina, and she at one time, worked at Windermere House. And of course, it was her hometown (village), so she has a soft spot for any local memorabilia. We do the same with most of our regional memorabilia, except of course, family heirlooms. We hang onto them for display purposes, write about them, feature them in graphics for our shop, or blog, and then offer them for sale. Seeing as we can't take them with us, and we are getting older, (and the boys don't care for what we collect), believe me, we can be just as happy finding new owners for what we find special, and of local heritage significance. We have helped build numerous high quality Muskoka collections, and libraries for our customers past and present. We got a little mileage yet to go, to fulfill our own expectations as regional antique dealers. So you never know what might make it onto an ebay listing.
Once again, I think a majority of my colleagues in the country antique profession, would admit, possibly more so, over a glass of wine, or a steaming cup of java, at least to their associates, having made mistakes in the past, that cost them considerable money. They probably wouldn't admit it otherwise, as it would reflect on their professional reputations. I think to the contrary, that being honest about our foibles in life, is rather liberating. I have never wanted to be a role model, even to my sons, let alone being known as the antique dealer on the very, very high pedestal. Those on pedestals are always at risk of getting toppled, and those who have been there, for some period, know what kind of stuff can be tossed at those appearing too high and mighty. I know that it's sometimes hard to admit we're just like everybody else, and can make mistakes, and carry regrets through the decades. I have always found comfort in that unpleasant reality, of clearly remembering the errors of my ways. Hey, I was a goaltender in hockey, and as much as I wanted a low goals against average, I understood how it could all come crashing down, the very next time an oposition forward lobbed a spinning puck from the red line, to bounce once or twice before getting to me; and how even the Vezina winning goaltender can miss such a shot, with glove, stick and pads. Knowing that awful sound of the rubber disc hitting the mesh behind. The silence of the crowd is temporary, before the heckling commences. Believe me, I know what it's like to be on the losing end of a winning team. I like to think I've done well in the antique profession, so there is my winning team. But there are times, when I get one of those goofy, bouncing, wildly unpredictable situations, where, yup, I screw up. "He shoots, he scores!" The puck goes into the proverbial net.
For the antique dealer? The bouncing puck headed into the mesh, parallels buying an heirloom piece that has been fudged, and you only find that out, when you get back to the shop, or to home base, and a chair leg falls off in your hand; or a cupboard door reveals itself as a replacement, by similarly toppling to the ground when opened.
There is the story of a visitor to a neighborhood home, in one sleepy burg, who, on a late night walk with his friend, came upon a somewhat disturbing scene, accompanied by the sound of great crashing, coming from a back shed of an abutting property. The visitor could see, through the illumination of the shed window, the silhouette of someone beating down upon a surface, with what seemed to be rope or something heavier. Geez, who or what was on the receiving end of this rage? The two chaps stopped and stared at the window, and what was going on behind the glass. The visitor asked his friend, if the person in the shed was beating someone, and should they intervene. "No, no, nothing like that. The fellow in there is just an antique dealer, and it appears he's distressing a pine table top with a chain." Well, you get the message. There are many versions of this same story. It is done, and it is done frequently. The real question however, is how many dealers will confess that they have distressed a table top, and then, having put it up for sale, without explaining the alterations made? I've known a great many in my years in this profession, and fifty percent of those would most definitely have identified the percentage of restoration, on any piece of antique furniture passing through their businesses. It's the right thing to do, if in fact, the subject furniture piece, is an investment-quality antique. If a restoration exceeds twenty-five percent of the furnishing, then the antique value begins to diminish thereafter. It's precisely why restoration needs to be clearly identified. And it's good business practice afterall. Unfortunately some still don't get it, as far as fessing up to alterations. Therefore it is very much the case "buyer beware," and "due diligence," save the day. You need to be fully aware of antique valuations, and the integrity of furniture, as they were originally crafted, in order to be able to compare precisely, the differences between then and the present. With some home crafted and primitive pieces, this is a little harder to do, but not an impossibility to find close parallels. If you're going to spend a thousand bucks on a pine pie-safe, for example, you need to know it is very much the way it was crafted originally; and that any visible alterations don't detract from the antique value.
I have purchased thousands of altered furniture pieces in the past forty years, but all of them have been for very low prices. There were a few hundred, admittedly, that I purchased without knowing the full extent of the restoration, only to find out, after I had hauled them home, that there had been much greater repair, than I had viewed at the place of purchase. Some times, the repairs are well hidden from obvious view, having been made by highly competent wood-workers. There are occasions, when the repairs and restorations, may actually be more than a century old, and because of detailed work by a skilled craftsman, the matter of devaluation is a lesser evil, depending on the piece, and where the restoration occurred. If it is a Chippendale piece, and a Chippendale woodworker made the repair, well, this may lessen the devaluation restorations inevitably inspire. If the repair was initiated by a totally unqualified individual, and it was done poorly, well, the devaluation is more substantial; unless of course, a former Prime Minister of Canada, or President of the United States, happened to sit on for dinner. Of course, it's also true, Chippendale furniture is always nice to own, so even poor restorations, in some cases, can be undone. If you plan to spend many thousands on a piece, that has been fudged, you should get advice before agreeing to the purchase; if that is, you're a rookie buyer, and don't really understand the restoration factor.
I bought a nice 1860's pine cupboard at an auction sale, one day, for a winning bid of a hundred dollars. When I got it home, and took a much closer look, I found that it had two different doors, and hardware not suited the photographic images of similar cupboards, illustrated in my reference texts; parallel pieces made in the same area of Ontario. Someone had crafted a door replacement, but it looked and worked just fine. The rest of the piece was okay, except that I had to find more suitable pulls than had been fastened on, in more recent times. When I did the required work, more to satisfy myself than to enhance the value, I put it in our shop, and made it clear, that a new door had been made, and installed on the cupboard, when sometime in its history, the original left side door had been damaged, and obviously needed replacement. It happens. I sold the cupboard for two hundred dollars, despite the fact there had been about twenty percent restoration. The piece, in perfect condition, with original patina, would have been worth upwards of four to five hundred dollars. I was happy with my hundred percent profit.
I have a really attractive Victorian chair I keep around the shop, for such occasions, when conversation comes around to the question of acceptable restorations, with a customer interested in such matters. It is the first chair I've ever come across, that shows repairs to its legs, from the bottom up. That's right. A former owner thought so much of this chair, that they had sought out a highly skilled woodworker, to cut off, either rot, from extended water exposure, or a weakening of the wood from fire damage; by splicing in, very neatly and effectively, replacement leg tips, of about five inches or so in length. It would seem that the chair would either have to become a "thumb" chair, for a child, or to be used by someone putting on boots in a hallway; or simply tossed out with the trash. An extreme consideration for stability and balance of such a chair, the repairs were done to all four legs equally well; such that you have to look closely at the leg bottoms, to see the actual tightly fit splices. The chair is perfectly balanced on the floor, and it is still a handsome looking piece of Victorian era furniture. It is hard to sell due to the spliced leg tips, because it is a major repair, that definitely diminishes the security and value of the chair. Replacement leg tips are more likely to fail than if an entire leg was replaced and fastened securely to the seat. What I like the most about the old chair, is that it shows the lengths a past owner was willing to go to, in order to save this small piece of furniture heritage from destruction. The chair is undoubtedly from the 1870's, or in and around the period, and would sell even without a mate, for a hundred dollars in pristine condition. With restored legs, it would be difficult to get twenty bucks. Having it as an example-piece, to show these precise repairs to interested customers, has been highly relevant, and I don't plan selling it any time soon. It's a great teaching tool amongst the many we keep around here, strictly as demonstration pieces. And by the way, the repairs, probably made in the early 1900's, are extremely secure, should you wish to sit on it for a little shop respite.
The most frequently encountered restorations, are found on original cane-seat chairs, where the webbing has broken through; being replaced by any number of substitute seats and materials to suit some decorating desire. It's not particularly easy to find an artisan to re-cane these chairs. It was the same seventy-five years ago, which explains why there have been so many bastardizations to these seats from cloth and cushion covered plywood, and masonite, to ridiculously substituted fibre-items of all descriptions, which never work for any great length of time. Plywood has some staying power, but the fabric covering is usually a terrible match for the woodwork of these chairs. Re-caning, if you are able to find someone to do the work, is expensive, and may actually be worth more than the chairs themselves when all is said and done. But the value of the chairs, as investment pieces, depends on the integrity of the cane work. It is understood that original caning would fail before the woodwork. As far as restoration, getting a new can seat, doesn't really count as a percentage repair - but no dealer, who goes to the expense of having chairs re-caned, is going to miss claiming this as a sale's bonus, when the chair, or chairs finally make the shop floor.
In another case, involving a collectable toy I spotted in a regional shop, I noticed a replacement piece that wasn't even close to the original fixture, that would have been on the item when originally purchased in the early 1960's. I found it easily, and it really bothered me that the vendor had not written this repair and part replacement on the sales sticker. Yes, this is important. To all concerned. When I see something like this, even though the vendor may not have made the repair themselves, it reminds me that other pieces might also be altered, and not explained, in terms of restoration, and replacement parts. This particular toy had been tampered with, plain and simple, and there are folks out there, who might have missed what I found on a cursory examination. Frankly, I might have made the purchase, because I rather liked the associated nostalgia it represented. Here's the thing. With this obvious replacement piece, at the price it was being offered for sale, would diminish its collectable value by potentially seventy-five percent the moment the item left the store. To get a proper replacement part, would not only be difficult, even on line (I checked), but if found, it could cost as much as the toy was in the first place. It would take decades to make back what had been invested, in order to make one cent of profit. If you wanted it for home decoration purposes only, well, there you go. It's why some dealers get away with not properly identifying alterations to their antiques and collectables. Is it dishonest? The customer has to decide this on an item by item basis, and if it is below market value. If this same item had been priced at ten dollars, I would have known automatically, that the vendor had acknowledged its condition deficiencies, without the need of an explanatory note. It would still be nice though, to have that kind of customer service and vendor follow-through. Once again, it's part of our due-diligence in this storied profession; yet there are still some amongst us, who subscribe to the mantra, "Let the buyer always beware!"
From The Archives
WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH HANDWRITTEN RECIPES?
Long before there were published compilations of recipes, which of course dates back many centuries, advise on cookery, when not orally passed from cook to cook, was imprinted in some fashion on some article suited for permanent record.
Compilations had to come from some place, and it was thusly in the form of these passed-on and passed-down records (recipes in written form) that eventually made it to such bound editions for eventual public consumption. Although we are a long way from cookery historians, and make no challenge to the authority and record that exists, it would have been hard to have any compilation, any recipe book, without an abundant and re-generating source, which obviously could be both oral and written.
Once the compilation cookbook took individual recipes, and lumped them together for the meals of the day, (standby fare recorded from popular roadhouses, hotels and taverns to homestead mainstays) the lowly handwritten pieces became immediately irrelevant, except if you couldn’t afford the cookbooks. And even when these inaugural compilations were published, they were unlikely, due to limited supply and expense, to make the required reading lists of the general population; the cooks in these household units still very much dependent on their humble and plain collections of heirloom recipes, passed down through the generations.
In fact, they had been so relied-on for so many centuries, that they were folded up and otherwise inserted in the cookbooks that were published and cheaply obtained. Which of course, was clear evidence that they were still a trusted and relied-upon kitchen helper, regardless of being ripped, stained, gnarled and greasy. And afterall, you didn’t dare throw out Grandma’s special recipe for Christmas cake or pudding, because everyone in the family knew full well, it was a seasonal milestone revered by the generations. Certainly not to be equaled regardless of another parallel recipe‘s prestige stature, even if gayly bound between fancy cover stock, in the very next blockbuster cookbook to make the rounds. That’s why we can still find hundreds of recipes folded into published cookbooks, obviously showing the home cooks reluctance to adopt the new without consultation with the old, tried and tested.
When you study the handwritten recipes, on cards, backs of calendar sheets, reverse sides of product labels, cardboard, invoices etc., you wonder about all the important life events and milestones passed, that these cookery helpers assisted in the cause of sustenance. How many family gatherings were fed with the assistance of these same dog-eared remnants of cookery once? How many daughters and grand-daughters were ecstatic to receive these hand-made recipe compilations, in loose-leaf binders and other ramshackle coverings from cloth to board, from mothers and grandmothers in the name of good and healthy housekeeping.
These home crafted, home tested compilations, were considered precious survival necessities, back a few decades. Heirlooms of generations in respective family histories. They were coveted. Loved, adored, and called upon constantly to sort out a good meal to suite an occasion. The reliable selection of main courses to feed the masses, to honor the special person of the day, and engage the festival of the season. With the kind of food that inspires full and total consumption with nary a morsel leftover. How many times had that cookery bible been open at stove-side to save the day?
We have found recipes written in beautiful script, the penmanship flawless, dating back to the mid 1800's, to the hastily scribbled notes made on the back of brochures, tickets and maps, by travelers, having exchanged recipes on layovers or in hiatus calms, after, for example, a fine dining experience. When for example, a charitable cook may have shared a guarded family recipe. We have found recipes scribbled onto the margins of daily newspapers, and beside published recipes, cut from broadsheets and magazines; recipes penned neatly onto menus scoffed from restaurants, cookery notes on memo pads, appointment cards, cereal box cardboard, hydro, water and telephone invoices, as well as cash register receipts. And many others actually written on the inside cover pages of published cookbooks, including a wide assortment of recipes, penned onto the front and back covers of both fiction and non-fiction, titles that have nothing at all to do with food or cooking. These old books were just convenient at the time, space was needed to copy down an important recipe. Even in phone books, we have purchased in box lots, from auction sales, these same recipes appear, imprinted in all kinds of strange locations. Printed or written out during phone calls with friends and family. Honestly, if these examples were creatively framed, they would be ranked as culinary "folk" art, and revered as visual treasures of our past.
We have discovered artist sketches with recipes on the back, the reverse side of store coupons, legal notices, photographs and greeting cards, that we suppose were just handy open spaces to write upon when a recipe somehow, or from someone, came into conversation. We can find many advertising message sheets that have recipes scribbled onto them, from phone conversations between culinary artists. We have examples of recipes written onto the corners of otherwise full letters, and so many other misshapen box lids, torn paper and newspaper sheets that were used in emergency circumstances, to jot down the ingredients of a hastily passed-along recipe. Maybe exchanged in haste, on an evening trip home, between riders on a streetcar, written down between stops. Recipes were so important, they needed to be conserved by any means possible it seems. And that makes them fascinating to us who collect them.
I will have lots more to come, on the amazing provenance and unique place, handwritten recipes have, in culinary heritage both in this country, and around the world.
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