Antiques Week At Last! The 2014 New York Ceramics Fair

Tuesday evening marked the official beginning of the 2014 New York Antiques Week with the opening party of the New York Ceramics Fair and the arrival of a massive snowstorm that brought the city to a standstill.

Not an auspicious start for Antiques Week or the Ceramics Fair, I would posit, as the show's dealers and the opening's attendees both struggled to navigate the city's treacherous streets, with weather forecasters predicting up to a foot of snow in Manhattan overnight.

The Bohemian National Hall on Manhattan's UES

By the time I made it to the Bohemian National Hall on 73rd Street, the venue for the New York Ceramics Fair, there was already a heavy blanket of snow on the ground, and the temperature had dropped into the mid-teens, and was heading further south.

A little bit of snow was not about to keep Reggie from attending the Ceramics Fair's opening party, Dear Reader.  Not on your tin-type!  Reggie wouldn't miss the Ceramics Fair (one of the highlights of Antiques Week, in his view) for the world.

After depositing my coat and hat with the coat check, my first destination was the party's open bar, where I fortified myself with a glass of champagne and marched into the Bohemian Hall's concert hall, where the dealers were set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Paul Vandekar

I made a bee-line to the booth of Earle D. Vandekar of Knightsbridge, where I thanked Mr. and Mrs. Paul Vandekar, shown in the preceding photograph, for inviting Boy and me to the opening party, as their guests.

The Earle D. Vandekar booth

The Vandekar's always have a tasty selection of pretty porcelains and ceramics on display, and we've bought pieces from the over the years for our collection at Darlington House.

I was quite taken with this early pearlware Staffordshire pair of recumbent figures of Cleopatra and Anthony, ca. 1815.  I've admired similar examples of this pair before, and hope to eventually own a set one day.

I also took a fancy to this lidded pearlware sugar bowl (at least that's what I think it is) in the form of an artichoke, made in the first quarter of the nineteenth century.

Ms. Myrna Schkolne, the Laughing Lady, and Mr. John Howard

My next stop was the booth of John Howard, of Woodstock England, where I was warmly greeted by Mr. Howard and his friend Ms. Myrna Schkolne, a noted expert on early English ceramics.  I didn't catch the name of the Laughing Lady between them, but I believe she may have come up to New York from Baltimore for the shows.  We've bought numerous pieces from Mr. Howard over the years.

A view of the John Howard booth

The Laughing Lady was at the Ceramics Fair with Mr. Stiles Colwill, seen in the green jacket in the above photograph, who kindly introduced himself to me when he overheard me discussing Reggie Darling with Mr. Howard.  I have heard many nice things about Mr. Colwill from our mutual friend, Ms. Meg Fielding, a fellow Baltimorean and the writer of the charming blog Pigtown Design.  It was a pleasure to finally meet Mr. Colwill.

In John Howard's booth I was crazy about this green glazed creamware bow pot, shaped like a sarcophagus, ca. 1800.

I was also overjoyed to see a Staffordshire figure of Jumbo the elephant, ca. 1850, similar to one in our own collection that we bought from a different dealer at the Ceramics Fair several years before.  You can learn about this marvelous pachyderm in the post I wrote about buying ours here.

The Santos booth

Turning from John Howard's booth I strolled into that of Santos, of London England.  I was attracted by the group of large Chinese export porcelain punch bowls on display, sitting on top of the glass display cases.

The punch bowl that got me into trouble

I was particularly drawn to the one shown in the preceding photograph, ca. 1800, painted with Masonic emblems.  Although I am not a Free Mason, I love their symbolic decorations, and have always admired Chinese export porcelains painted with them.  Alas, this bowl was not to be added to my collection of export punch bowls as the proprietor of the booth was in no mood to speak with me, and became visibly irritated when I asked him if it would be okay if I took a photograph of the bowl he had on display.  Ah well—I hope he will be in a better humor when the Ceramics Fair opens to the general public.

A general view of the main floor of the Ceramics Fair

Turning from the Santos booth I made my way back onto the main floor of the hall to see what else was on offer.

"First in war, first in peace, and first in the
hearts of his countrymen"

I was intrigued by this early nineteenth-century pearlware bust of George Washington, stamped 1818, from the pottery works of Enoch Wood.  I already have a similar one in my own collection, but I believe mine is later, from a strike done in the 1880s or so.

Ms. Jacqueline Smelkinson and Ms. Marcia Moylan

I then stopped by the booth of Moylan-Smelkinson of Baltimore, Maryland (do I notice a trend of Baltimoreans here?) to say hello to the two lovely ladies, but forgot to take photographs of their booth in my excitement in seeing and speaking with them.

By this time I had made a full circle of the main floor of the Ceramics Fair, and so I made my way upstairs to the mezzanine level, where I was delighted to find another bar set up and a ready replenishment of my empty champagne flute.

Looking down on the main floor of the hall
from the mezzanine level

My mission in going to the mezzanine level was to stop in the booth of Lynda Willauer Antiques of Nantucket, Massachusetts.  Boy and I are regular customers of Ms. Willauer's, both at shows in New York and at her charming shop on Nantucket.

A view of the booth of Lynda Willauer Antiques

It was in Ms. Willauer's booth that I found my can't-live-without purchase of two majolica garden stools in the form of tree trunks, made in Sweden ca. 1880.

A near-pair of majolica garden stools

Boy and I have been under bidders on similar tree trunk-shaped garden stools at auctions in the past, and we have had our eyes out for one ever since to use on our screen porch during the summer, as an occasional table.

Boy examining one of the garden stools

We quickly determined that we had to have them, and came to an agreement with Ms. Willauer to buy them from her.  While I wasn't expecting to come away with two of them, they were sold as a pair and I am now the proud owner of not one, but two of these marvelous garden stools.

The Warren's booth

Our final stop at the Ceramics Fair was the booth of Maria and Peter Warren Antiques of Wilton, Connecticut, where Boy had spied an attractive, early nineteenth century black basalt covered sugar bowl earlier during the show.  He is now the happy owner of the basalt sugar bowl, seen in the following photograph, which will join our burgeoning collection of basalt when we return to Darlington House this weekend.

Boy also acquired a small green feather edged creamware plate from Maria and Peter Warren Antiques, ca. 1820, to add to his collection of green feather edge plates and serving pieces.

I'll take it!

With our purchases completed, we bid the Ceramics Fair adieu and headed out the door for a quick bite of dinner at the nearby cheap-n-cheerful Finnegan's Wake Irish pub.

The main dining room at Finnegan's Wake

Well fortified with ceramics, drink, and food, we then braved the snowy night and walked the several blocks to our apartment building and to our dear Basil, who was snoozing away on his pillow waiting for us.

Baby it's cold outside!

And with that, Dear Reader, Reggie's completes his reportage on this year's New York Ceramics Fair.

The New York Ceramics Fair
Bohemian National Hall
321 East 73rd Street
Between 1st and 2nd Avenues
January 22-26, 2014

Next: Reggie Attends the Winter Antiques Show Opening Party

Reggie Is Having Fun Over At Privilege

Reggie is thrilled (and tickled pink) to have collaborated with LPC, the writer of the marvelous blog Privilege, on a post analyzing and discussing the sartorial style of the East Coast Grande Dame.  For those of my readers who aren't familiar with LPC's Privilege blog, I whole-heartedly recommend that you click on over to it and give it a gander.  I am sure that you will become as hooked as I am.

The Style Icons of the East Coast Grande Dame
as selected by Reggie Darling for Privilege
Image courtesy of same

I first became aware of LPC's Privilege blog shortly after I started my own, and we have since become fast friends, transitioning from an initial electronic acquaintance discussing our shared High WASP backgrounds into a live, "Let's have dinner when you are in town" one.  Several years ago we guest-posted on each other's blogs about attending our twenty fifth college reunions at the Ivy League schools we went to, in her case Princeton and mine Yale.  You can link to her post about it on my blog here.

The East Coast Grande Dame's favored accessories
as selected by Reggie Darling for Privilege
Image courtesy of same

On her own blog, LPC frequently discusses the sartorial equipage of three types of WASP women: the "Sturdy Gal," the "Artsy Cousin," and the "Grande Dame," each of which she cleverly defines and analyzes for her devoted readers.  A month or two ago LPC did a post about Grande Dame style where Reggie commented and which prompted LPC to invite him to collaborate with her on a piece about the style of the East Coast Grande Dame, a subset to her broader Grande Dame category.  LPC sought Reggie's input because she is a life-long Californian (her parents decamped there from their East Coast High WASP origins before she was born), and felt that I could provide a window into the style of the East Coast Grande Dame from "the inside" (so to speak), as a New Yorker.

Modern Day East Coast Grande Dames
as selected by Reggie Darling for Privilege
Image courtesy of same

I had much fun collaborating with LPC on her post, peppering her with images and suggestions, and I think the result is absolutely swell.  I am honored that she asked me to contribute to it, and I encourage you, Dear Reader, to click on over and read the piece here.

I hope you like it!

Many thanks, LPC, for giving Dear Old Reggie the opportunity to have fun with you on our collaboration.  You are a treasure.

A Round Hill Reverie

Now that the madness of the Christmas season is over, Dear Reader, I'm planning on posting a series of essays that have been in my queue for some time.  Today's post, a review of one of the Caribbean's most storied resorts, is the first in the line up.

This past October Boy and I visited Round Hill in Jamaica, to celebrate a milestone birthday for Boy.

The Main Lodge at Round Hill

Round Hill is one of the fabled Caribbean resorts, and one that I've always wanted to visit.  This was my first—and I'm confident will not be my last—stay at the Queen of Jamaica's resorts.

Situated on a secluded, 100+ acre peninsula near Montego Bay, Jamaica, Round Hill has virtually nothing in common with the enormous all-inclusive resorts the island is known for.  Round Hill is, in contrast, very discreet, quiet, small, and exclusive.

An aerial view of Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

Long celebrated for its exquisite location, luxurious amenities, splendid service, and rigid door policies (no tourists allowed, thank you), Round Hill has long been a favored tropical destination for those born with golden spoons in their mouths, captains of industry, international socialites, Wall Street heavyweights, and Hollywood icons of the old school.

Babe Paley and her husband, William Paley
at their villa in Round Hill, photographed by Slim Aarons

For example, Mrs. and Mrs. William Paley were once among Round Hill's most famous residents.

Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Lauren at Round Hill
Image courtesy of Architectural Digest

Today their villa at Round Hill is owned by Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Lauren.

The view from the veranda at Round Hill's main lodge

Round Hill sits on a lovely, sheltered bay, far from the hubbub and madness of Montego Bay.

President John F. Kennedy at Round Hill
Image courtesy of Round Hill

President and Mrs. Kennedy were regular visitors at Round Hill, drawn to it for its exclusivity and firm policy of protecting the privacy of its guests.

The pools at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

The resort has all of the amenities that one could possibly wish for: a protected beach, pools, a spa, several bars, luxurious dining pavilions, and more.  The staff couldn't be nicer, or more accommodating.

Miss Grace Kelly, relaxing on the beach at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

Grace Kelly was a regular visitor at Round Hill, both before and after her marriage to Prince Ranier of Monaco.

Mr. Clark Gable and Mrs. John Pringle at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

Clark Gable was also an habitué of Round Hill.

Miss Mary Martin and Sir Noël Coward at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

The playwright and composer Sir Noël Coward once owned a villa at Round Hill, where he regularly entertained the stars of Broadway and London's West End.

Miss Joanne Woodward and Mr. Paul Newman having
fun at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

Joanne Woodward and her husband Paul Newman were no strangers to Round Hill.

Sir Paul McCartney and friends at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

More recently Sir Paul McCartney and his family have been frequent visitors to Round Hill.

The villa we stayed in at Round Hill

While Round Hill's storied history was a plus for us, it was the sybaritic luxury of the resort that attracted us to it.

A night time view of the villa

We stayed in a private villa during our visit there, owned by a major U.S. media mogul.

The outdoor living room at our villa at Round Hill

The villa was beautifully appointed, with both outdoor and indoor living rooms to lounge about in.

The lovely, charming, and sweet Angela,
the Major Domo of our villa at Round Hill

We were beautifully attended to during our stay by a housekeeper/cook, two maids, and a gardner/poolman.  The staff cooked breakfast for us at our villa every morning, and served us lunch, too.

The "English taste" method of arranging pillows

We found the accommodations pleasant and exceedingly comfortable.  After only a minor amount of rearranging . . .

The "American taste" method of (re) arranging pillows

. . . the pillows in the villa's indoor living room were perfect, at least for the requirements of Boy, the Fancy New York Decorator.

Another view of the pool at our villa at Round Hill

We hardly left the grounds of our villa during our stay at Round Hill.  Why should we, when we were so beautifully attended to?  We ate breakfast and lunch at our villa every day, and we only ventured out in the evening for drinks and dinner at the resort's handsome bar and dining pavilion.  It was all very cushy, and very private, Dear Reader.

Boy swimming in his birthday suit
at our villa at Round Hill

We spent most of our time at Round Hill lazing about our villa and swimming in its private pool.

So, who needs a Speedo?

Bathing suits were largely superfluous, we found.

One does, of course need white wine!

Wine and cocktails, snacks, and meals were but a phone call away . . .

The splendid evening sky at Round Hill
Image courtesy of same

It was a lovely, low-key holiday, and a welcome respite from the madness of Manhattan and one's more mundane daily responsibilities.  I look forward to returning to Round Hill again sooner rather than later.  I highly recommend it to you, Dear Reader, as the perfect getaway from one's winter cares . . .

Round Hill Hotel and Villas
John Pringle Drive
Montego Bay, Jamaica
(800) 972-2159
www.roundhill.com

Please note: Reggie has received nothing in return for writing this review of Round Hill in Jamaica, nor does he expect to.  He has written this review solely for the enjoyment of his readers, which is why he writes this blog.

All photographs, except where noted, by Reggie Darling

It Is All Rather a Blur . . .

Christmas came somewhat late to Darlington this year.  Not after the fact, mind you, as we observed the appropriate dates as they occurred on the calendar.  No, I'm talking about when the psychology of Christmas finally wrapped its arms around me and said "Now!"

I was very rushed approaching the Christmas holiday this year.  Work was all-consuming and unrelenting, as were the more pleasant demands of the New York social season, and I found myself galloping head forward during the weeks leading up to Christmas with a list of "to-dos" a mile long and the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel a long, long, way away.  Somehow I got through what I needed to by the time I had to do it, and I bolted from my office on the Friday before Christmas shouting with glee that I was finally done with working for the year and that was that!

A full two weeks at Darlington beckoned to me most pleasingly.

Stocked up with comestibles and presents, and fortified by a delicious holiday luncheon at Swifty's with Boy and his two charming assistants, we loaded the family jalopy and drove up to the house that very afternoon, not scheduled to return to the city until the first full week of January.

Darlington's 2013 Christmas Tree

I can't remember the last time we had two entire weeks of uninterrupted residence at Darlington House.  It's been at least several years.  Although we usually spend Christmas and New Year's at Darlington, we often break up our stay with a trip to Boston for a night or two, for a change of pace.  This year we decided to spend the entire break at Darlington.

A Chinese covered jar was inspiration for
the tree's color scheme this year . . .

It's all been rather a blur, really.  A blur of afternoons spent cooking and fiddling about, playing backgammon, listening to music, and reading.  A blur of evenings largely devoted to the joys of the table and bottle, and catching up on movies we've wanted to see (or rewatching old favorites).  It has been a blur of parties, too.  A blur of trips to the grocer or wine merchant, or to Agway for bird seed and dog biscuits.  A blur of attending services at the Episcopal church I go to.  A blur of drinking egg nog and eating tasty treats, promising myself (and Boy) that it would all come to an end in the New Year (but hasn't quite, yet).  A blur of sleeping in as long as I like, wakened not by an alarm clock blaring at me but rather by my darling Basil licking my face, asking to be taken out and fed his breakfast.

It's been an absolutely lovely blur, Dear Reader.

. . . as was our collection of early English
Staffordshire pearlware figures . . .

I've purposely not overburdened myself this break with chores and projects.  I have a tendency to keep myself busy with such time consuming obligations, even while on vacation.  Not this Christmas.  While I did keep a "to do" list (it would be impossible for me not to), I kept it short and have not kicked myself because some of the chores listed upon it must wait to be completed another day.  Although I've had a number of calls with the office while away, they haven't been burdensome or overly time-consuming.

. . . and a pretty pearlware dish

"So, where is this going?" you might ask, Dear Reader.  It is an explanation of why your Dear Old Reggie hasn't posted photographs of our Christmas tree this year, at least until today.  Boy put our tree up and decorated it ahead of Christmas day, but we didn't get around to photographing it until afterwards, completing doing so only yesterday.  The pictures shown in this post were taken over a one week span, seeking to capture the tree at its best advantage, and under the best light conditions.

This Christmas we placed our tree in Darlington's drawing room, for the first time in many years.  Its theme was inspired by the color scheme of the room, and by the English and Chinese ceramics we have placed about it.

In particular, the color scheme was inspired by the painted decorations on our early nineteenth Staffordshire pearlware figures of classical deities and virtues.  We've collected them for years and I've written about them before, here and here.

The pearlware figures are decorated with pretty painted pastel colors in pinks, blues, yellows, lavenders, and greens.  Boy drew from their palette when decorating the drawing room's tree.

The result is very different from the woodsy Winter Wonderland themed trees that Boy has put up in previous years in our dining room.  Our drawing room Christmas tree is very, very pretty.  And very pink, too.

In addition to being inspired by the pastel colors of our Staffordshire figures, we wanted to give our drawing room an old-fashioned Christmasy look, from the 1940s.  I festooned the mantel and mirror with vintage pink lametta garlands that Boy gave to me many years ago.  He found them while on a photo shoot, back before he became a Fancy New York Decorator, and he haggled with the woman who owned them until she sold them to him.  I'm really rather fond of them.

I particularly like this year's Christmas tree.  It is so pretty and sweet that it almost makes my teeth hurt, but in a good way.  It makes me think of the children's board game, Candy Land, which was a favorite of mine when I was very little.  Until, that is, I figured out that the game did not involve the receipt of actual candy, a distinct disappointment to me at the time.

Now that I'm a grown man and have developed a taste for treats other than candy, I can admire the loveliness of our tree unfettered by anything but pure pleasure in its prettiness.

I am writing this post sitting at my dining room table at Darlington.  The table is covered with the white damask cloth we laid for a luncheon party several weeks ago, and it is a pleasant and snowy-white pedestal for tapping away on my laptop, writing this essay.  A footed dish of clementines is but a short reach away.

I will leave Darlington House fortified by a lazy, indulgent two weeks of leisure and relaxation.  I can confidently say, Dear Reader, that this is the first time in years that I have ended a vacation truly rested and ready for what waits for me upon my return.

Happy New Year!

All photographs by Boy Fenwick