It Is Lauren, Not Loren!

If there is one thing that drives Reggie absolutely nuts, it is when he hears someone mispronounce Ralph Lauren's last name as "law-RENN," with emphasis on the second syllable.   I don't know where people got the cockamamie idea that it is pronounced that way, but hearing people say it like that produces a reaction in me like the sound of fingernails screeching across a blackboard.  For those of you who pronounce Ralph Lauren's last name as "law-RENN," would you please stop it, once and for all?

Miss Lauren Bacall
(Her first name is correctly pronounced "LOREN")

Because you are mangling its pronunciation.  The "Lauren" of Ralph Lauren is pronounced the same way as the first name of the American actress Lauren Bacall, which is pronounced "LOREN," with equal emphasis on each syllable.  It is not pronounced the same way as the last name of the Italian actress Sophia Loren, which is correctly pronounced with emphasis on the second syllable.

Miss Sophia Loren
(Her last name is correctly pronounced "Loh-RENN")

I suppose that people think pronouncing Lauren as "law-RENN" somehow makes it sound more posh, or "classy," or (Heaven forbid) French-ified.*  But it is none of these, Dear Reader.  I am here to tell you that pronouncing it that way sounds ridiculous, ill-informed, and affected.  Because it is!

No one who works at Ralph Lauren pronounces "Lauren" as "law-RENN."  And I have that on good authority, Dear Reader, since I have done a substantial amount of professional advisory work for the company over the years, and believe me, not one person in senior management there or in the stores pronounces it any way other than how it should be pronounced, which is "LOREN."

Now, Reggie is well aware that the "Lauren" in both the names of Miss Lauren Bacall and Mr. Ralph Lauren doesn't appear on their birth certificates, and was adopted by them at later dates.  He doesn't give a fig about that, nor does he believe anyone else should, either.  What he does believe, and he believes vehemently, Dear Reader, is that "Lauren" should be pronounced correctly, which is "LOREN," and is not—and never has been and never shall be—"law-RENN."

So, if you—or anyone you know—has heretofore misguidedly pronounced the name Lauren emphasizing the second syllable, I insist that you (and they) stop doing so immediately!

And that is a Reggie Rule.

* Which is even more perplexing to this writer, given that the company's design vision is so firmly rooted in quintessentially Anglo-American sources 

Photograph of Miss Lauren Bacall courtesy of mptvimages.com; photograph of Miss Sophia Loren courtesy of the Mathau Company; Ralph Lauren corporate logo courtesy of same

Mardi Gras at Darlington House

Unlike our New Orleanian cousins, we take a fairly low key approach to Mardi Gras at Darlington House.  However, this year things got a little out of hand, and even Thomas Jefferson got into the spirit!

I don't know about you, Dear Reader, but what with all of my overindulgences of the last couple of days, weeks, and months, I'm actually rather looking forward to lightening up during Lent this year.

Photograph by Boy Fenwick

Antiques Week 2013 At Last: Part VI

The Downtown Armory Show
What a difference a day makes, Dear Reader.  After attending the glittering gala opening of the Winter Antiques Show at the uptown Armory on Park Avenue, the next morning we attended the "other" Armory antiques show, at the downtown Armory on Lexington Avenue in the twenties.  Antiques at the Armory (or the Downtown Armory Show, as it is known) is a much more affordable antiques show than its far-fancier uptown sister, and it attracts an eclectic roster of dealers and attendees.

Such as the woman in the preceding photograph, shown sitting at the entrance of the show enjoying a pre-show smoke.

There was much to see at the Downtown Show, with dealers appealing to buyers of all sorts and pocketbooks.  While the show is always heavy on Americana, it features lots of other offerings, too.

Boy rather liked the lamps shown in the preceding photograph.  He thought they would look swell in one of his clients' Manhattan apartments.

Both Armory shows are held in cavernous spaces, with ceilings soaring high above the fray.

I liked these mushroom specimen models, made of carved and painted wood.  They reminded me of ones that I had admired in a magical Kips Bay Showhouse room decorated by Ann Getty a number of years ago.

The Downtown Show was decorated with half a dozen or so large metal urns filled with flowers and greenery.  Someone went to real effort to make these happen, and I thought they looked marvelous.

I was sorely tempted when I came across this booth's display of Black Forest bears.  I have a collection of them at Darlington House, started by my mother's father and which I have added to over the years.  I bring them out at Christmastime to decorate the mantel in our Snuggery.

I thought this patriotic dress from the first quarter of the twentieth century was appealing.  No, not for me to wear, Dear Reader, but rather as an example of Americana.  I can just imagine a pretty young woman wearing this dress, marching in an Independence Day parade, circa 1920.

I also was drawn to these two wallpaper covered bandboxes, dating from the first quarter of the nineteenth century.  We have several of them at Darlington House.  Ours are reproduction ones that were made at the Farmer's Museum in Cooperstown, New York.  Contrary to what many people think, bandboxes were not made just to hold hats.  They were a popular and inexpensive hold-all for clothing and personal effects.  Given their ephemeral nature, relatively few of them survive today, and those that do usually are for sale at what an uneducated buyer might consider eye-popping prices.

One dealer had a group of miniature bandboxes for sale at $300 to $650 apiece (I told you they were expensive).  These made a charming display, I thought.

As did this tower of quill boxes from the mid-nineteenth century.  I've seen rather a lot of quillwork boxes for sale recently.  I wonder if they are now being made again, perhaps in India. 

As Martha Stewart once famously exclaimed, "Every good cook deserves a copper pot!"

I thought this early twentieth-century mustachioed folk art policeman's head was nifty.

At the show I came across this early nineteenth-century portrait painted by Ammi Phillips (1788-1865), the same itinerant American artist who painted the two children in the double portrait I showed in my Sotheby's preview post.  The Phillips painting of the children in the Sotheby's sale was estimated at a whopping $250,000 to $300,000.  This fellow's listed sticker price was for a much more reasonable $12,500.  Unlike the painting at Sotheby's, which failed to find a buyer, I suspect this man's portrait sold shortly after I snapped its image, given what I believe was a very reasonable price for this artist's work.

I'm not usually a fan of paint-by-numbers pictures, but I thought this massing of them on a wall was terrific.  They would look great in a child's room, I think, or in a rustic mid-century lakeside cottage.

I thought this tiny early nineteenth-century eglomisé matted needlework picture was charming.

The dealer who displayed this green lattice work panel didn't realize that he'd got it wrong.  It is meant to be displayed horizontally, not vertically.  It is a fireboard, designed to be placed in the opening of a fireplace during the off season.  We have (and use) similar (although not identical) fireboards at Darlington House, some of which are antique, and others that we had made.

Not all of the goods at the Downtown Show are American or European in origin.  One dealer had a collection of African figures on view.  The one shown in the preceding photograph caught my eye.  She stands only around eight inches tall.

I was rather taken with this nineteenth-century American painting of squirrels naughtily feasting on strawberries.  I suspect the cat peering at them may have disrupted their mischief but moments later . . .

This sculpture of a mother monkey and her baby was both appealing and kind of creepy.

There were any number of miniature dioramas for sale at the Downtown Show.  I don't know if it is that a collection of them had recently come on the market, or if someone is making them today.  In any event, they were quite marvelous.

Here's Martin Chasin, a dealer in antique English silver.  We've bought numerous pieces from him over the years.  He's very nice, and a pleasure to do business with.  If you are in the market for reasonably priced, superior quality antique English silver, I recommend that you check out his website or look him up at one of the many shows he attends.

  

Something tells me that this elaborate and fanciful martin house won't be returning to the out-of-doors after the show.  Rather, I suspect it will be featured in the decoration of a house in the Hamptons or somewhere similar.

I came very close to succumbing to these two nineteenth-century English basalt candlesticks.  However, since I had already blown my resolve not to buy anything at the shows just the night before, I decided to forgo them, even though they were very well priced at $2,500 for the pair.  Now that I think of it, Dear Reader, I probably should have allowed myself to buy them to add to our basalt collection at Darlington House.  Ah, well—as Scarlet O'Hara famously said in Gone With the Wind, "Tomorrow is another day."  I console myself that I will, indeed, have other opportunities to buy basalt candlesticks . . . hopefully when I'm feeling flusher.

There was a pair of these decorative, patinated chimney covers at the show.  I'm not exactly sure what one would do with them, but I liked them nonetheless.

I've always got my eye out at such shows shopping for an imaginary beach house.  I thought this "Old Salt" doorstop (he stood around eight inches tall) would be a nice addition to a traditional seaside cottage on Cape Cod or elsewhere on the New England coastline.  Boy, however, wasn't convinced . . .

I came across this amusing sign as I was leaving the show, and had to take a photograph of it.  I thought it cleverly apropos of all the bargaining and horse-trading that goes on at such events.

In need of sustenance after prowling through the aisles of the Downtown Show, we jumped into our car and headed back uptown to Lusardi's, an UES institution, where we tucked into a tasty, wine-fortified luncheon of delicious pasta.  We pretty much had the place to ourselves, which was quite a contrast from when we usually eat dinner there, when the place is always packed to the gills.

And with that, Dear Reader, I complete my tour of the antiques auction previews and shows held in New York City during this year's Antiques Week.  I hope you liked it.

Editor's Note: By the time I made it to this point I could not bear the thought of attending yet another antiques show, and therefore skipped the downtown Metro Show, the other major show held during Antiques Week.  I understand from people who made it there, though, that it was well worth attending.

All photographs by Reggie Darling

Antiques Week 2013 At Last, Part V

The Winter Antiques Show, cont'd.
Today's post is a continuation of my most recent one about attending the gala opening of the Winter Antiques Show.  But before I get into the subject matter at hand, Dear Reader, Reggie must acknowledge that he's rather behind in his reportage on this and other shows of the New York Antiques Week that was.  What with a demanding day job that requires frequent out-of-town travel (he's writing this from the Admiral's Club lounge at JFK), an over-scheduled social life, and the need to get in a full night's sleep (how do some people get by with just a few hours of shut-eye at night, he wonders), Reggie hasn't had much free time to sit down and do what he really wants to do, which is to blog away to his heart's content, reporting on this and that, discussing the finer points of ceramics, and sharing what some might consider to be his persnickety rules for what he deems to be civilized living in a world of wretchedly disintegrating standards.

"Yes, I will have another cocktail, please . . . and this time, don't bother
with any tonic—just make it gin on the rocks, thanks!"

In any event, and back to the subject at hand, one of the more pleasant aspects of attending a party such as the Winter Antiques Show gala opening is the access one has at such an event to quality alcoholic beverages of one's choice and delicious finger food, seemingly at every turn.  Not only that, but one is not discouraged from walking around with said liquour-filled glass in one's hand and drinking from it while visiting with one's friends or touring the dealers' booths.  Just don't put your glass down on that very fine and very rare early eighteenth-century lacquered table, please!

Mr. Ronald Bourgeault

While pausing for a much-needed refreshment to one's cocktail, we chanced upon and spoke with Mr. Ron Bourgeault, the owner of Northeast Auctions and a regular on Antiques Roadshow.  We met Mr. Bourgeault many years ago while attending a Williamsburg Antiques Forum and liked him immensely.  He is a very pleasant and affable fellow, and it was nice to see him again at the Winter Show.

A view of the Barbara Israel booth

One of the booths that I enjoy seeing at every Winter Show is that of Barbara Israel Garden Antiques, which specializes in truly magnificent garden statuary.  I especially admired the monumental footed urn shown in the preceding photograph.

The flower arrangements at the Winter Show
are always a delight

My next stop at the show was the booth of Hostler Burrows, who deal in twentieth-century furniture and decorative arts.  I thought their display of art pottery as seen in the following photograph was very handsome, indeed, and I loved the way it was massed on the table.

A grouping of art pottery on display at the Hostler Burrows booth

While on the theme of modern, naturalist objects, Dear Reader, I also very much enjoyed a series of metal sculptures made in the early 1970s by Harry Bertoia, in the booth of Jonathan Boos, of what appear to be small shrubs.

I was quite taken with these Bertoia sculptures

in the Jonathan Boos booth

Not far from that I was further taken with an early twentieth-century painting in the booth of Thomas Colville Fine Art.  I think the painting, titled Vertical Construction and painted by the American artist Werner Drewes in 1938, would look marvelous in our city apartment, which we have decorated with furniture and art from the 1930s through the 1960s.  However, our walls there are already covered with paintings and—besides—I wasn't in a buying mood, at least not at those sticker prices.

I would be very happy to live with this painting
. . . under such circumstances as would allow it . . .

At Darlington House, on the other hand, our collecting is firmly rooted in the early decades of the nineteenth century.  To that end, I thought the large landscape shown in the following photograph would be right at home there, hanging on our walls.  And, Dear Reader, it is being shown by the same dealer, Thomas Colville, as the preceding modern abstract that Reggie so admired!  No wonder I coveted it . . .

. . . and this one as well!

But one doesn't attend the Winter Show merely to gaze upon the gorgeous and precious objects offered there, Dear Reader, but also to enjoy the beauty of the design of the show and the creativity with which the offerings are artfully arranged and displayed in the booths.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall . . . "

I thought the placement of the mid-nineteenth-century American sculpture in Gerald Peters Gallery's booth of a young lady staring into a mirror, as seen in the preceding photograph, was teddibly clever.

The Cohen & Cohen booth

One booth that I am sure to linger in at the Winter Show is that of the London-based dealers Cohen & Cohen, who specialize in magnificent Chinese export porcelain made for the European markets.  This year their booth was dramatically done up to resemble a porcelain display "cabinet" room in a princely palace, with suitably princely offerings. 

"Be still, my heart!"

One of the highlights of the Cohen & Cohen booth (if not of the entire show), in Reggie's view,  was an enormous punch bowl (it is large enough for a baby's bath) commissioned in the first years of the 1800s by States Morris Dyckman (1755-1806), an immensely rich (well, for a time at least) American living in London.  Mr. Dyckman was the builder of Boscobel, one of the finest Federal houses in this country, and he spent a fortune in England outfitting it with the best goods and decorations that money could buy.  Acording to the dealer Michael Cohen, shown lifting the bowl in the preceding photograph, the bowl is thought never to have actually found its way to Boscobel, for Mr. Dyckman apparently died before the bowl was completed in China and sent to the agent in England who had brokered its commission for (the now deceased) Mr. Dyckman.  I hope that Boscobel House and Gardens, which owns and manages the house today, was able to buy the punch bowl—for it is at Boscobel that the bowl truly belongs.

The interior of Elle Shusan's booth

One of the most creatively decorated booths at the Winter Show every year is that of Ms. Elle Shushan, this country's leading dealer in fine portrait miniatures.  Every year she and her dear friend, Mr. Ralph Harvard, the noted classical designer and architect, create an enchanting and whimsical booth in which to display her offerings.  This year Mr. Harvard created a fantasy of the New Orleans studio of artist John Wesley Jarvis (1780-1840), who apparently shared a studio in the Crescent City for a time with John James Audubon (1785-1851).  The booth was a tour de force!

Ms. Susan Stein, Mr. Ralph Harvard, unidentified, and Ms. Elle Shushan

We had a jolly time in Ms. Shushan's booth, speaking with her and her charming friends, and taking it all in.  While we were there we enjoyed meeting Ms. Susan Stein, the Richard Gilder Senior Curator and Vice President of Museum Programs at Thomas Jefferson's Monticello, and sharing with her that we were the proud owners of a geranium that purportedly came from a cutting of one at Mr. Jefferson's house, given to him by Rubens Peale of the illustrious Peale family of Baltimore.  She knew exactly what we were talking about, and good-naturedly humoured us.

Hyde Park's booth of superb English furniture and decorations

By this point we were beginning to wonder about the whereabouts of the friends we were to meet for dinner that evening.  We thought that one of them, Ms. Emily Evans Eerdmans, might be at the Hyde Park Antiques, Ltd., booth, so we checked there.  No luck, so on we scurried . . .

A delightful painting of a naughty kitty 

I paused at the booth of David A. Schorsch & Eileen Smiles American Antiques to admire a nineteenth-century American painting of an adorable, mischievous cat wreaking havoc upon a lady's sewing box, shown in the preceding photograph.  Isn't it charming?  Hello kitty!

This fellow had many admirers at the show

After fortifying ourselves with another round of cocktails at the commodious bar at the rear of the Armory, I stopped (in my tracks, actually) to admire the very well-formed posterior of this classical statue in the booth of Safani Gallery, as seen in the preceding image.  And believe me, Dear Reader, I wasn't the only one doing so!  I could barely get close enough to get a good photograph for you, given the mob scene of ogglers surrounding it, oohing and aahing while gulping down their drinks and mopping their brows with excitement.

The Peter Pap Oriental Rugs booth

My next stop, directly across the aisle from said saucy statue, was the booth of San Francisco-based Peter Pap Oriental Rugs.  Mr. Pap can be seen standing inside the booth, to the right, in the preceding photograph.  I stopped to say hello to him, as we share a dear friend in common, the noted California decorator Guy "Pickles" Gurquin.  Not only that, but Mr. Pap and I have another connection, as our mothers were dear friends many years ago.

A lighthearted painting by George Bellows

With reservations beckoning and stomachs growling, Boy and I resumed our search for our dinner partners.  Where could they be?  Not in the Adelson Galleries booth, staring longingly, as we did, at the George Bellows painting on view.

Even though Tiffany lamps may not be to one's taste, 
one cannot help but admire them

Nor were our friends in the Macklowe Gallery booth, admiring the Tiffany lamps on display.

The Keshishian booth

"Excuse me, have you seen either Ms. Maureen Footer or Ms. Emily Evans Eerdmans?"  I asked at the Keshishian booth, where this lovely carpet and tapestry were on view.  Unfortunately, to no avail.

Fanciers of photography in the Fetterman booth

Perhaps they were in the Peter Fetterman Gallery booth, admiring its arrangement of the masters of modern photography?  Nope.

"I'll take it!"

Nor were they at the Philip Colleck, Ltd., booth, admiring this wonderful painting, as I did.  Don't you love the juxtoposition of the vibrant twentieth-century painting with the buttoned-up Regency commode?

Mr. Michael Henry Adams

I briefly interrupted my search for our pals and introduced myself to man-about-town Mr. Michael Henry Adams, whom I recognized from Facebook, where we are "friends."  The charming Mr. Adams proceeded to tell me a most amusing story about dancing with Pat Buckley at a birthday party given for Bobby Short at Mortimer's years ago.  Hilarious!

A madly Rococco-Revival-patterned English luster jug 
and an array of Criel et Montreau Faience
in the Taylor B. Williams booth

Just paces away I noticed the booth of Taylor B. Williams Antiques and the display cases within, packed with ceramics and snuffboxes.  Hmmmm, I thought—better check this out, Reggie!

Mr. Taylor B. Williams

And it was there, Dear Reader, that my resolve to keep my wallet firmly closed and in my coat pocket finally evaporated.  For I found a superb example of an early nineteenth-century English pearlware figure of the type we collect at Darlington House and which I have written about previously.  When confronted by the pristene condition figure of this hunter, circa 1810, shown in the following photograph, I was helpless.  I had to have it!

An English pearlware figure of a fowler,
ca. 1810, now in the collection of Yours Truly

It is fortunate, Dear Reader, that I was able to acquire the figure of the little hunter at a most reasonable price, at least as these things go once they've swum upstream to places such as the Winter Antiques Show.  I am thrilled to have it and most grateful that Mr. Williams was willing to accommodate me in acquiring it.

Ms. Maureen Footer, Mr. Mario Buatta, and
Ms. Emily Evans Eerdmans

And who should I then be so fortunate to find immediately upon exiting said booth, but our dinner companions, Ms. Footer and Ms. Eerdmans, having a cozy chat with that amusing bon vivant, Mr. Mario Buatta!

Ms. Maureen Footer, a modern-day Boldini!

Before leaving the Armory with the ladies I insisted that the supremely elegant Ms. Footer allow me to photograph her posing in front of the Boldini portrait of Mrs. Elizabeth Drexel Lehr exhibited in the Newport pavilion.  Doesn't Ms. Footer look ravishing?  Would that Mr. Boldini were alive today, I am sure he would clamour to have Ms. Footer allow him to paint her portrait, don't you?

A view into the dining room of Sel et Poivre

The four of us, along with the noted artist John Kelley, then repaired to the nearby Sel et Poivre restaurant for a tasty, conversation-packed dinner.  "S&P," as Boy and I call it, is a favorite destination of ours for neighborhood bistro fare, and it is always jam-packed with happy diners tucking in after the big shows at the Armory—as it was the night we dined there, too.

And so you have it, Dear Reader: Reggie's big night out at the enchanting opening party for the Winter Antiques Show.

Won't you please join me there next year?

All photographs by Reggie Darling