Clinton Howell Antiques, New York City - English antique furniture

People are choosy about who they want to lead them. In truth, people are of two minds about their leaders. One part says, thank God, I don't have to lead this group and the second part says, I could do better than he/she with my eyes closed. The honest part is the first thought, the second part possibly, but probably not, being true. The "calling" to be a leader is a very special thing, after all, not something your average joe really gets.

I belong to two antique associations, one of which has just held elections and the other is just about to. One election was decided in a vote by the board and the second election by a group of former presidents who chose a "slate" of board members and officers. If there is anything more useless than antique associations, it is the people who lead them. I should know, I am one of them although I have been summarily dismissed fron one board. Phew! I was beginning to think I might have a "calling" after all and my self importance was beginning to rub off on my colleagues. Now, however, I am only half as important and that is a relief because too much deference can lead to ego related problems. If only the other board would ditch me, I might re-enter normalcy which, for an antique dealer, is self delusional.

What I really love in a leader, of course, is testicular fortitude. Men are known for great decisions as a rule and I gather it has been determined that Hillary has testicular fortitude and therefore makes good, tough decisions at any hour of the day or night. Sort of like our current president whose testicular fortitude has never been questioned. That IS what we want in a leader, testicular fortitude. Or maybe not. I knew I should have considered politics over being an antiques dealer.

The reaction to what I wrote about Tom Devenish is quite interesting. Whatever those reactions have been, however, I have to say that I did the best I could to tell the truth. The truth has many versions, but I seem to have struck a chord. Tom made people uncomfortable because he was always willing to shout, swear or insult for seemingly no reason. He also knew how to be charming, but that was just a tool in his bag. It was all great gossip, but it was tiresome.

I think we see versions of Tom all around us, seldom in greater degree, but often in lesser. If we look at our presidential candidates, two of three of them seem to want to be president for themselves, not for their country. When I read that the Clintons made one hundred million dollars in the last seven years, I blanched at the thought of Hillary being president. Dynasties entrench the bad characters as readily as the good--look at our current president's plight as the rats depart his ship claiming (a few of them at least) his incompetence. (I would agree with them, but I wouldn't single George by himself.)

Truth has a shifting shape that every person accords their own dimesions. I would say that it hardly matters whether someone that is dead is accorded honors or scorned. They are gone and their descendants have their own reflections, good or bad. I have taken it upon myself, not without a good deal of thought, to define a legacy. I don't think I am too far off the mark.

One should not speak ill of the dead, but when I read Clive Devenish's paean to his father in the front of the catalogue for the Tom Devenish Sale at Sotheby's last week, I was, quite simply appalled. Tom Devenish, as portrayed by his older son, was a genius, a man of inestimable talent. I guess I might say the same thing if I had been left a nice estate, but the truth is very far from what he wrote.

Years ago, I spied a very good tripod table at Christie's East, Christie's lesser outlet on 67th St. that had fairly regular sales, often with very good items. This tripod table had a raised gadroon border and was spectacular. I was a friend to Tom, and I thought he was to me, so when he called and asked if there was anything in the sale, I told him about the table. He promised me that he would not bid for it. I was on the phone to make the bid but when it came up, he was in the room and bought it for $7,000. When I confronted him on it, he lied to me and said that he did not know I was on the phone.

How many times Tom did this to other people I am unable to say, although I know of several similar stories. I was certainly naive and the tale is an oft told tale among London dealers who would cut their rivals throats. But to pretend friendship in order to use someone is not only low, it is contemptible. I had helped Tom a great deal in a great many ways. I was thunderstruck by his greed. I would happily have bought a half share. He did not share with anyone in any way, ever.

I would like to say that his taste was good and that he had particular knowledge, but what he had was tenacity and an ability to suss out what others wanted. I will never forget the Moller sale at Sotheby's when he knew he was bidding against Mallett for a mahogany bookcase, which Tom bought and which they eventually bought from him. I would like to say it was his courage that made him bid so much, but he knew that if Mallett wanted the piece, they would have to come through him and that meant a profit. Clever of him to figure this out and smart of him to persist, but none of this makes him a dealer with taste or knowldege.

He was a reprehensible figure with no redeeming graces, brutal and self serving. I am sorry I ever spent any time with him. He was not so much a disgrace to the English furniture business, but a disgrace to all those who, mistakenly, cared for or about him.

Ian Baker's, "The Heart of the World", ends with an equanimity that must certainly relate to his many journeys to the beyul of Pemako in Tibet. If this is how one attains enlightenment, I ain't goin. His journeys are mind boggling.

The heart of being an antique dealer is being exposed to the otherness that antiques represent. The aesthetic qualities, the craftsmanship and materials is more than social history, more than beauty--it is a testament to why things survive. It is something to think about.

A friend who is restoring a house worries about the interminable bills he is confronted with. Who wouldn't be? Such questions belie any case for individual enlightenment. Or do they?

Ian Baker's, "The Heart of the World", ends with an equanimity that must certainly relate to his many journeys to the beyul of Pemako in Tibet. If this is how one attains enlightenment, I ain't goin. His journeys are mind boggling.

The heart of being an antique dealer is being exposed to the otherness that antiques represent. The aesthetic qualities, the craftsmanship and materials is more than social history, more than beauty--it is a testament to why things survive. It is something to think about.

A friend who is restoring a house worries about the interminable bills he is confronted with. Who wouldn't be? Such questions belie any case for individual enlightenment. Or do they?

I am close to finishing Ian Baker's, "The Heart of the World", which is the story of his repeated excursions to the beyul, or sacred valley, in Tibet known as Pemako. It is an extraordinary story with Baker's understanding of himself growing with each journey. The hardships are extensive and enduring them is the leit-motif to the exploration of this rugged terrain.

It is Baker's Buddhist training that keeps him aligned. The need to understand why is the primary goal and the search for various Buddhist steps of enlightenment the raison d'etre of all the journeys. The compelling narrative that includes the many hardships, from Chinese bureaucracy, inadequate maps, stinging nettles, leeches, swamps and much more, as well as Buddhist characters of transcendant happiness lead us to appreciate this sanguine discipline that on the surface can seem both selfish and selfless.

The Buddhist discipline seems so much clearer for having been forged in such rugged terrain that is both bountiful and treacherous. I am not a spiritualist in any sense of the word, but I can clearly understand Baker's yearning for understanding and his restlessness to completely understand this beyul so full of contradictions.

Ultimately, Baker yields to a grant from National Geographic to picture the heretofore unseen waterfalls of the Tsangpo River. A six mile stretch of the river has never been seen because the gorge that it runs through is 2000 feet deep and the walls down to the river are sheer. Baker's understanding, and it keeps coming to him through every travail, could just be the aging process, but whatever it is, the man reveals a deep sense of commitment to a world that is not his own and the book is all the more powerful for this revelation.

When we really know the character of the person(s) involved in scandal, it is seldom surprising and in fact isn't really scandal. What we are doing is taking voyeuristic delight in another person's karma. Richard Nixon, for example, told us he was not a crook. (Beware the solipsistic oxymoronic dialectic confession--it is just too confusing.) And we knew that Bill Clinton enjoyed female company. Was the Monica Lewinsky story a scandal therefore? No, it was Bill Clinton down to his last Socratic defense trying to define the word, "is".

In the antiques business, we are not immune to people with odd karmas and some of them become quite successful dealers. Some of these dealers have flamed out, some have battled lawsuits, some have succumbed and some have survived. Every dealer sees the opportunity of being unethical, but it is the unethical people who happen to be dealers that take advantage of the situation. These situations aren't scandals, they are karma. Most of them would have been far more successful as politicians where real scandal exists. Such as the building of a fence to keep out illegal immigrants. What poppycock! That and the powers given to Homeland Security are a true scandal.

I don't wish to be pessimistic, but I do like frogs and I admire bats. I love bees and salmon are quite something to watch. I wonder if some governmental agency is being given a pat on the back for keeping an eye on the situation, that is the unknown plagues that each of these species is undergoing. It is hard not to be cynical of this current group in power that has deemed that a fence on the Mexican border is more important than environmental concerns or the property owners whose land is being usurped. I am not just talking about our president but all the rest of Congress that feels so strongly about this issue. What are we doing? Stone walls do not a prison (read border here) make nor iron bars a cage. My mother used to say that to me when I was young. It was true then and it is true now.

No, I have never been to Japan and I have never been overly interested in much of Japanese art, but I found an exception at the Japan Society on 47th St. in New York City the other day. Shibata Zeshin (1809-1891) was an artist as well as a lacquer specialist. As I have always appreciated the craft of art, Zeshin, I realized very quickly, was my man. His lacquer work is particularly beautiful, delicate and balanced with nuance and whimsy. His paintings exhibit similar understanding of composition and form. Furthermore, he developed ways of using lacquer on scrolls which demonstrated a dedication to material and a willingness to push his material beyond traditional scopes.

Art in today's society has become a passport of cool of hipness, more about ideas than craft. While I understand the desire to separate from the group to celebrate one's vision, I have to say that Zeshin was a man who understood what it was to be contemporary and still a 19th century Japanese artist.

You are what you eat. That is undeniable, but are you also what you listen to and read collaterally, like skimmed newspaper articles, advertisements in the background, muzak in the marketplace? This is a nuanced question given the mass of what we come in contact with on a daily basis. In the world of antiques, for example, the shelter magazines tout hot new ideas in almost every issue and this reportage most certainly has resonance in my business. The word for the last five to seven years is that modern is hot and sexy. Bullshit! Good design is hot and sexy and always will be.

The media craves and creates excitement. Is it any wonder that the election process produces sound bites instead of substance? Substance requires attention and concentration. Health care, education and infrastructure are boring subjects in depth and yet essential elements of our society. Going to war is sexy, particularly all those new bombs and missiles. But five years of war is not sexy. Maybe it is the sound bites, that information we have barely listened to, that has polluted our judgment? It is something to think about.

After spending half an hour on Youtube watching all manners of political commentary and their peanut galleries, left and right wing, I have to say the right to free speech seems overextended (boy. would this doom my candidacy if I was running for office). Of course, I don't really mean that, but we are a nation that believes that incivility and profanity and personal insult is a recognized form of debate. I would not dare to question the intelligence of such people, but I might ask that they learn how to spell before they spew their screed. I might also suggest a few years in college to help elevate debating skills.

If this sounds elitist, it is only because it sounds that way. It isn't that way, however. Discussion is not declamatory. Refutation is not put down. If your beliefs are credible, then articulate them. The rest is, well, not worth talking about.

I would love to see a controlled study group of, say, two hundred people given the words "antique dealer" to define. I can't see many people being able to do so. I thought of this because of an article about a man in California who is being prosecuted for claiming to have won the Congressional Medal of Honor. There is a law that says you cannot claim any military honors without merit. This man is facing fines and jail time.

I sympathize with the intent of the law, but free speech is free speech. If I had won such an honor, I would be furious with people who claimed such valor and I'd probably want to punch them out. But that is not how our system works. Free speech allows you to say anything...., ANYTHING.

In the antiques world, there are people who are traders, those people who perhaps understand style and who may have a commercial instinct, and there are dealers. Dealers, in my opinion, should know their woods reasonably well, they should know style, they should know makers, they should know other examples of things similar to what they sell that are in museums and country houses, they should know good restorers/conservators..., the list goes on. Do I take dealing seriously? Yes, because words do matter.

Ambling along a street on the Upper East Side of New York City the other day, I saw a pile of discarded furniture with the signature mahogany stain of the Bombay Company. It was a fitting reminder to me of a conversation I had in the 1980's with a man who was telling me that the Bombay price point was indisputably a better deal than antique furniture. It was so cheap!!!! The pile on the sidewalk bore out his observation.

The downside to companies like Bombay for me is that they emulate classic styles. It is the middle class dream to own things that appear to have some sophistication. I don't disagree with this, but I have to say that quality also matters a great deal. That we will buy something because it is cheap is a contradiction in many different ways. Unfortunately, like a great many other things we do these days, we choose to turn a blind eye and accept half a loaf when the whole loaf will ultimately prove to be more worthwhile.

I wonder if this is a function of education or perhaps a lack of time to complete all that needs to be done. Who really wants to spend the time looking for a table that might require a budget stretch (I am not talking antiques here, I am referring to used furniture which can be found all over the place) but which will last over the convenience of buying something new for very little money? The catch of course is that cheap is cheap, there is no way of getting around that fact.

I believe it is education that makes us curious. As much as I would like to blame the current administration for this lack of education, I fear that it has become endemic to our way of life. Clever entrepreneurs, and make no mistake the Bombay Company was a very clever idea, want to prove to us that we can have the look for very little money when in fact what is required of us is time and curiosity. That pile of debris on 73rd St. is my case in point.

I have long thought that the most important attribute of an antique dealer is to be able to impart knowledge to a client. It isn't all that simple as it requires an attentive buyer and the dealer must pace their words and speak as a teacher, not as parent.

A good leader often gets you to understand what he wants through the release of information. It is a form of teaching that virtually none of the presidents in my life time have practiced. Instead, they lead as a parent admonishing us about the dangers of taking the wrong path, usually the path leading against their wishes. Hillary Clinton's health care initiative died because of its secrecy. Dick Cheney's obsession for secrecy belies the role of a public servant.

I would like to see a leader that tries to let the country know just how much power lobbyists have over the Congress. I would like to see the role of lobbyists vastly diminished. I would like to see the people responding to their politicians in a working fashion, both at the polls, which is a reactive proposition and with their elected officials, an interactive proposition.

Obama seems to understand the interactive concept well. Neither Hillary or McCain seem to. Huckabee is open because he is a long shot. Would he be nearly so open if he were the Republican candidate?

I do have a preference this fall. I would like to see America as the victor in the polls, not one party. The potential with the three major candidates is better than it has been for awhile, but no one can possibly know what is going to happen until the new president starts to govern. Frankly, I would suggest to anyone in the process of thinking about who to vote for to spend a little time learning about antiques. It is more relaxing and if they get interested, they can always buy one and take it home.