It could have been the war with Iraq, the recessionary climate in the United States or the fact that everyone was just plain tired of fighting among themselves. Whatever the reason, the 1991 Winter Antiques Show, which ends here today, was missing much of its customary fizz.
It was as though the champagne that was generously poured on opening night had suddenly gone flat. Everyone did his or her level best to dismiss the psychological storm clouds swirling overhead, but between the clinking glasses and the cheek-to-cheek air kisses of the social X-rays on hand, there was a noticeable tentativeness in the air. Even Mario Buatta, the normally ebullient chairman for the last 17 years who recently announced his resignation as head of the tempestuous group, was tempering his optimism with some real-life pragmatism.
”The business climate is not great, and the war situation has scared a lot of people. The antiques business is already off, and everybody is being very careful,” Buatta said. ”But here we have the best objects brought under one roof, and it is very exciting for people to see.”
Buatta, a celebrated decorator and member of the New York social set, had his own battles to contend with during his 19-year tenure with the board of the East Side House Settlement, the charity in the South Bronx for which the show is organized, and the antique dealers committee. In the last several years, he has had to fight off charges that he is dictatorial and autocratic. The dealers charged he was not sensitive to their needs in terms of the rental rates for booths at the show, the placement of those booths, who should and shouldn`t be invited to show and even whether carpeting should be installed on the hard floor of the 67th Regiment Armory, where the event has been held for the last 37 years. This year there was carpeting, although Pam Sarnoff, one of the cochairmen, admitted that she hates to see charity money spent on such indulgences.
While Buatta has been credited with making the show a success, this will be his last year as chairman. A successor has not been found, but Sarnoff admitted that the duties may have to be split among two or three individuals. International woes
Buatta did try for several years to involve dealers from Europe to make it a truly international affair and succeeded only on a small scale, as such leading names as Didier Aaron and Bernard Steinitz declined to attend this year.
”I can`t be in two shows only a couple of months apart,” said Herve Aaron of Didier Aaron, the French antiques dealer. ”I had personality problems with Mario because he doesn`t give a damn about the dealers.” Aaron was also instrumental in creating the rival International Antiques Show, which takes place in the fall before the winter show, and which has already been declared a success after only two seasons.
Even the issue of vetting, in which a committee of experts judges the authenticity of the antiques on display, has continued to cause dissension among the group. Buatta was originally against it, claiming written guarantees from the dealers were enough protection for those buying, while some dealers felt it was necessary to protect their credibility with the public. The controversy rages on. While there was supposedly not enough time for vetting this season, a number of dealers expect it to happen next year.
Roger Keverne of London`s Spink & Son admitted that there is ”a lot of politics” involved in producing this show but said he uses the opportunity to meet new clients. ”A lot of people are afraid of Spink in London because they see a big, imposing building. Here, we`re just in a booth like everyone else.”
Indeed, there was still plenty to ogle and admire in those booths this year, even if dealers such as Allan Chait of Ralph M. Chait Galleries in New York complained that his corner aisle spot was ”more like a telephone booth.” But the emphasis this year, despite the presence of a handful of dealers from Europe, was largely American.
If you wanted to see which way the wind was blowing (outside of the armory, that is) you had only to head over to Fred and Kathryn Giampetro`s booth, where the Goddess of Liberty stood holding the Stars and Stripes. Crafted around 1865, it retains its original coat of paint and was meant to be placed outside a townhouse rather than on a farm barn, because of its diminuitive size. The price, however, was anything but diminutive at $95,000.
What`s selling now
The partners in Kentshire Galleries, Robert Israel and Frederic Imberman, were full of great expectations for this, their first time at the winter antiques show. ”Antiques never go out of style, and in a recession we find we`re selling the better things,” Imberman said. Specialists in English antiques, they counted a pair of English Regency black and gold lacquered tables made for Warwick Castle in the 18th Century among their most significant offerings. The price for the pair? $600,000.
Bernard Plomp of Village Green Antiques in Richland, Mich., was hoping for the best at this show, especially because some of his clients from Nebraska and Minnesota had promised to fly East for it. ”The Midwest hasn`t been as hard hit by the recession as the East,” he explained.
Still, mixed in with the 18th Century secretary for $79,000 and a primitive painting of a family from Brooklyn for $39,500, Plomp did manage to sprinkle a few more reasonable treasures. He had candlesticks for $300, a set of eight Minton china dishes from the early 19th Century for $975 and even a decorative brass horseshoe for $75.
Handmade American quilts from the 18th and 19th Centuries are always prized among collectors, and Kate Kopp of America Hurrah in New York was fairly glowing on opening night as the crowds pushed their way into her booth to study the charming and unusual quilts on display. Among them was a rare stuffed and padded quilt from the Susquehanna Valley in Pennsylvania that depicted the lifestyle of a wealthy farming family, complete with cotton gin, house, barn, animals and the family itself. The price tag for that was $100,000.
Thomas K. Woodard, whose booth of Americana collectibles is always bustling, admitted that ”we won`t see the heady hype buying of the `80s-people would get $350,000 bonuses.” But he found several good reasons to continue to present his wares at this show.
”We all need a lift at this time of year. I`ve been to the shows in London and Paris, and no other show has the vitality and the electricity of this show. It`s a real melting pot of the best that people have to offer,”
he said.
Subdued opening
Still, the crowd on opening night was considerably less flashy than in years past. No movie stars were on hand to cause a stampede of photographers, the way Goldie Hawn did last year. And the number of socialites and designers following in the footsteps of their trusted decorators was noticeably fewer. A few of the country`s power elite, such as Brooke Astor, Drue Heinz and Anne Cox Chambers, made their way quietly through the crowd. But the biggest burst of flashlight was reserved for Marilyn Quayle, wife of the vice president and honorary chairman, and decorating doyenne Martha Stewart, who greeted patrons as they entered the armory. Stewart had been invited by Buatta to decorate the Tiffany Room and the Great Hall of the armory, and she was at her energetic best on opening day, polishing silver and arranging fruit before the crowds arrived. Her display of the craftsmen and artisans who repair and refurbish the antiques, paintings and fine fabrics found in the best of homes, appeared to be a hit as patrons converged on the craftsmen at work in their tableaux vivants.
Fashion designer and socialite Carolyne Roehm, who owns homes in Manhattan, Connecticut and the Hamptons, was her usual chatty self during the opening-night party. She accompanied her husband, Henry Kravis, who made his fortune in the `80s with a number of mind-boggling leveraged buyouts. But Roehm admitted, ”I`m not in the mood for buying. There are other things on people`s minds-the war, the economy, even the other show. But I wanted to come because it`s Mario`s last year as chairman.”
Paul Franklin of Malcolm Franklin in Chicago and New York was excited about a handsome clock by Thomas Tompion in England that was made in 1680 and that he was offering for sale for $148,000. It still keeps time and is made of oyster olive wood with some marquetry touches and was smaller than ones made later to fit the scale of the homes of the period. But his outlook of the show was tempered by the fact that his son, a helicopter pilot instructor in the Marines, was about to be called up for duty in Saudi Arabia.
He explained softly, ”It makes everything else so much less important.”
