Was reading a few entries from The Norse Woodsmith Aggregator and focussed on one by our Bibliophile (Steve), a book review of Fake, Fraud, or Genuine: Identifying Authentic American Antique Furniture, by Myrna Kaye. The review is good and owning her book would be informative for a period builder whose goal is imitation.
For me old furniture is not really antique. If you live long enough, and are possessed of any mild hoarder's disease, combined with some genealogical interest, the diagnosis is simply, heirloom, or "dead people furniture". My wife announced that title to me one Saturday morning. We went out and bought some new pieces to compete with the inventory of eclectic furniture from dead relatives. The replaced relics are in the basement mausoleum, waiting to trap another generation of relatives, per stirpes, that is.
My takeaway from the review is that:
I found well preserved furniture to have a dark character. There is a flaw, or more, which detracts from 'love'.
Pieces can be grossly 'fixed' after damage. We have a child's chair that was at one time a chair with one broken leg.
Sometimes, the finish is not modern enough. Remember Spanish Walnut--black, black..., now ebony? The fashion is recycling, but something's still wrong.
I am old enough to see a resurgence of "mid-century" and danish modern. My memories include Stickley (or copies) and the rooms were dreadfully dark, somber.
Sometimes, the design is so mutilated, it is bad; so bad, it is unique. We have a phone table-and-bench in black varnish with no straight edge. It is a style from scroll saw heaven. It may have supported a rotary telephone late in life, but nothing similar since.
Then, we have Kaye's 'Old Parts, New Object'. There are piles of wood waiting to rise, Phoenix-like, some rediscovered as pristine pieces fitting a specific use. I think the private, mini museum vault in our basement can be a source for Kaye's antiques. I will hang on to them, along with the original Barbie Kit my wife keeps tucked away in a closet.
For me old furniture is not really antique. If you live long enough, and are possessed of any mild hoarder's disease, combined with some genealogical interest, the diagnosis is simply, heirloom, or "dead people furniture". My wife announced that title to me one Saturday morning. We went out and bought some new pieces to compete with the inventory of eclectic furniture from dead relatives. The replaced relics are in the basement mausoleum, waiting to trap another generation of relatives, per stirpes, that is.
My takeaway from the review is that:
I found well preserved furniture to have a dark character. There is a flaw, or more, which detracts from 'love'.
Pieces can be grossly 'fixed' after damage. We have a child's chair that was at one time a chair with one broken leg.
Sometimes, the finish is not modern enough. Remember Spanish Walnut--black, black..., now ebony? The fashion is recycling, but something's still wrong.
I am old enough to see a resurgence of "mid-century" and danish modern. My memories include Stickley (or copies) and the rooms were dreadfully dark, somber.
Sometimes, the design is so mutilated, it is bad; so bad, it is unique. We have a phone table-and-bench in black varnish with no straight edge. It is a style from scroll saw heaven. It may have supported a rotary telephone late in life, but nothing similar since.
Then, we have Kaye's 'Old Parts, New Object'. There are piles of wood waiting to rise, Phoenix-like, some rediscovered as pristine pieces fitting a specific use. I think the private, mini museum vault in our basement can be a source for Kaye's antiques. I will hang on to them, along with the original Barbie Kit my wife keeps tucked away in a closet.