"I feel an irresistible desire to wander, and go to Japan, where I will pass my youth, sitting under an almond tree, drinking almond tea out of a blue cup, and looking at a landscape without perspective"
Oh, Oscar, please do divulge your source.....
Antiques Market in 2008
Over the past few decades the marketplace for antiques and decorative arts has significantly changed. The 1980s saw a huge price increase for antiques, followed by a downturn in the 1990s. Around 2000, the marketplace continued to slow which drove a number of mid-level antique stores out of business.
Now in 2008, many auction houses, furniture dealers and consignment shops have closed their doors. It’s been bruited about by nervous dealers that antique furniture is going for a quarter of what it sold for just a year ago. Struggling dealers, as well as collectors, are busy liquidating their collections. What is going on?
Now in 2008, many auction houses, furniture dealers and consignment shops have closed their doors. It’s been bruited about by nervous dealers that antique furniture is going for a quarter of what it sold for just a year ago. Struggling dealers, as well as collectors, are busy liquidating their collections. What is going on?
After 36 years Red Baron’s Antiques will host its very last auction this weekend --
September 27 and 28, in Atlanta, Georgia.
The uncertainty of the economic situation in the US is certainly to blame. Another factor is the huge increase in merchandise readily available to collectors via the internet, which has threatened and continues to threaten the livelihood of the traditional middleman. Who needs an informed agent or an advisor when sellers are able to directly deal with customers all over the world?
In the past, increased competition between buyers for the shrinking market of available high-end pieces has driven the price of these items way up. However, this year even the top auctioneers have experienced disappointing results; competition for the few remaining quality pieces has become fierce. In the meantime, prices at the moderate level of the antiques market have remained static and not moving. Until recently a few bold collectors were still willing to pay relatively high prices for hard-to-find items. Eighteenth century English pieces in exceptional condition are still thriving. Whatever, the market continues to soften.
In April Sotheby’s estimated this rare Irish mahogany card table c. 1750 to reach anywhere between $40,000 - $60,000. The hammer price (including buyer’s premium was only $37,000.)
Compounding all this is the fact that the world of antiques and decorative arts has been undergoing a fundamental change during this decade. People don’t want the traditional stuff anymore. Contemporary is rapidly becoming the most sought-after. Open any interior design magazine and you’ll find an eclectic array of mid-century modern pieces. 1stdibs has become the important internet venue which showcases almost exclusively 20th century pieces. Regional art fairs have accelerated the interest in contemporary and decorative arts.
Eccentric Italian designer Carlo Mollino’s oak and glass table from 1949 sold for $3.8 million at Christie's New York in 2005. It was was estimated to fetch a mere $150,000 to $200,000.
A shaky economy, now downright perilous, is not good for the auction houses and retail dealers. Everyone, understandably, seems to be walking on eggshells. Despite these fluctuations, quality pieces remain quality, seemingly in defiance of the vicissitudes of the market. If there is one constant in this madhouse it’s that really good quality pieces manage to maintain their inherent value. Markets may be cyclical, but top-quality antique furniture will always retain its special value.
Why are we so interested?
Going to the Opera (depicting William Henry Vanderbilt family) by Seymour Guy, 1873.
Most people are curious about other people’s homes. What does the furniture look like in there? What do they have on the walls?
We can’t help ourselves. We’re just that way. Haven’t you gone out after dark to walk the dog and paused momentarily craning your neck to peek through people’s windows hoping to get a glimpse of the décor?
That kind of snooping is nothing new. It’s been going on for centuries. Well, at least since the 19th century with the advent of the Industrial Age.
The rise of the mercantile class brought with it both the urge and necessity to show off one’s new-found wealth; suddenly, people with pots of extra money were wondering what they were going to do with it. Flaunt it, of course, and what better way than to decorate the walls and floors of a brand-new house in that upscale neighborhood in the very latest fashion and décor?
How the new, moneyed housewife exhibited her possessions became a vital issue. It was no longer a routine matter of putting fresh thatching on the roof or sweeping the bare, packed-down earth floor every morning. A sturdy house with spacious rooms demanded an intriguing interface of furniture and color. A house was no longer just a structure to inhabit but an expression of the people who lived in there.
Above all, a stylish house was the earmark of a virtuous woman. If she had taste, knew how to mix colors, had a keen eye for the form and function of furniture knowing how to properly display the outward signs of new wealth, she was well on her way to providing a nourishing environment in which her family could thrive. If she was lacking these virtues, no amount of money could compensate for their absence.
Why is it that we yearn to glimpse into other people’s homes? What do they have that we don’t?
How our home looks offers an intimate peek at how we view ourselves. Do sprawling chunks of over-sized furniture indicate a demonstrative personality? Do small pieces tightly arrayed signal a cautious sensibility?
Design is a vital prerequisite of the cultural make-up of everyday life. Especially in a free-market society, it’s accessible to anyone who’s interested. Granted, some people have more innate flair for design than others – a good sense – and this can have a salutary effect when they exercise it.
Design is seductive. It can make us think we are something we really aren’t. It plays on our deepest fantasies. It give us the illusion that we are a lot more classy than we really are. After all, why do people retain the services of an interior designer?
We can’t help ourselves. We’re just that way. Haven’t you gone out after dark to walk the dog and paused momentarily craning your neck to peek through people’s windows hoping to get a glimpse of the décor?
That kind of snooping is nothing new. It’s been going on for centuries. Well, at least since the 19th century with the advent of the Industrial Age.
The rise of the mercantile class brought with it both the urge and necessity to show off one’s new-found wealth; suddenly, people with pots of extra money were wondering what they were going to do with it. Flaunt it, of course, and what better way than to decorate the walls and floors of a brand-new house in that upscale neighborhood in the very latest fashion and décor?
How the new, moneyed housewife exhibited her possessions became a vital issue. It was no longer a routine matter of putting fresh thatching on the roof or sweeping the bare, packed-down earth floor every morning. A sturdy house with spacious rooms demanded an intriguing interface of furniture and color. A house was no longer just a structure to inhabit but an expression of the people who lived in there.
Above all, a stylish house was the earmark of a virtuous woman. If she had taste, knew how to mix colors, had a keen eye for the form and function of furniture knowing how to properly display the outward signs of new wealth, she was well on her way to providing a nourishing environment in which her family could thrive. If she was lacking these virtues, no amount of money could compensate for their absence.
Why is it that we yearn to glimpse into other people’s homes? What do they have that we don’t?
How our home looks offers an intimate peek at how we view ourselves. Do sprawling chunks of over-sized furniture indicate a demonstrative personality? Do small pieces tightly arrayed signal a cautious sensibility?
Design is a vital prerequisite of the cultural make-up of everyday life. Especially in a free-market society, it’s accessible to anyone who’s interested. Granted, some people have more innate flair for design than others – a good sense – and this can have a salutary effect when they exercise it.
Design is seductive. It can make us think we are something we really aren’t. It plays on our deepest fantasies. It give us the illusion that we are a lot more classy than we really are. After all, why do people retain the services of an interior designer?
One way out of the doldrums of an ordinary life is to live in a fashionable environment. Can’t we see ourselves properly sitting on that silk settee in those flattering photographs that adorn those slick interior design magazines? Isn’t that where we secretly want to belong?
These design magazines both fascinate and alienate. Their alluring images, in reality, may not promise an immediate transformation, but they can teach us how to imitate the look and make us feel we are at least getting a shot at a more glamorous life.
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