Giving New Life Through Restoration

QUESTION: For years I also collected antiquities. Now I have a particular passion of writing boxes or old English boxes. I enjoy to restore by myself. I beg to ask for an opinion. I attach here two photos. On the lid, at the corners, something is missing! Do you think the angles were made of brass? Or in wood ... or mother of pearl? I doubt it because the thickness is a lot (about 3 mm.) Then I had never seen the brass corners that did not go vertically.

ANSWER: The corners on your box would have been brass, so if you can find someone to make these for you, they should be easy to replace. Be sure to glue them with a strong glue. Box makers usually used brass on the corners of better boxes to protect them while traveling. Victorians took writing and other types of boxes along on long trips so that they could communicate to their friends and family back home. It’s not unusual to find boxes from this time period in poor condition. Restoring them is not as difficult as doing furniture but can be challenging.

Antique boxes acted as portable storage workhorses for past generations. They served a variety of purposes from document boxes in which to keep valuable papers to writing boxes for correspondence to dressing boxes for grooming while traveling to tea caddies for storing precious tea. Victorians, in particular, loved boxes and people from all classes used them.

Unfortunately, people handled boxes a lot, so most antique ones aren’t in the greatest shape. Some boxes may have sat on a table in front of a window in the sunlight and became faded over time while others suffered from neglect.

A good example is an Indian sadeli mosaic-covered writing box that outlived its usefulness. Someone decided that instead of tossing it out, they would give it to their children to play with. The children drew all over the beautiful mosaic with crayons and someone did a bad job of pasting a piece of chartreuse felt over the writing surface on the inside. Needless to say, this restoration wasn’t a walk in the park.

Unlike antique furniture made before 1830, many antique boxes will benefit greatly with even modest restoration. And since they’re not large, it doesn’t take a lot of materials or time to restore them.

Antique boxes are valuable because they’re antique and looking old isn’t bad. And while restoring a box may make it look better, it may reduce its historical value. Boxes from the 18th century should only be restored by a professional restoration expert. In most cases, they need to be conserved, that is the deterioration of the box should be halted. Restoration is a more radical solution and often includes refinishing the wood and replacing metal parts. So the question to be asked is whether the box is in bad enough shape to render it less valuable than its being restored?












While restoration usually begins with reviving the wood of the box’s body, it also takes in exterior decorations made of ivory, tortoiseshell, and mother-of-pearl. These materials are all fragile and should be checked for cracks, abrasions, and chips. Metal ornamentation may be missing, dented or creased, or it may just need polishing. Veneers and inlay are much more difficult to repair and may require professional assistance.

Antique boxes also contain small and sometimes specialized hinges and locks that must also be examined for repair, restoration, or replacement. Finding replacements can be a real challenge since many of these may have been made for a particular box.

But minor conservation can do wonders for an antique box. First, tighten any loose screws and gently tap in any loose nails. Repair loose joints with wood glue. Finally, clean the box with a soft lint-free cloth dampened with Murphy’s Oil Soap solution. Do a small area at a time and use another lint-free cloth to dry it. After letting the box dry thoroughly for 24 hours, give it two coats of Minwax past wax to protect the exterior. Follow the directions on the can.




Dust the interior of the box with a soft shaving brush. If the wood is bare, as with some inner areas of the box, switch to a solvent-based cleaner. Use a toothbrush or toothpick to clean out any crevices. If this has markedly improved the box’s appearance then it may be a good time to stop.

To read more articles on antiques, please visit my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the other 18,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about the Victorians in the Winter 2018 Edition, "All Things Victorian," online now. 

Valentines from Across the Seas

QUESTION: While vacationing in Nantucket last summer, I came across some beautiful souvenirs made of shells. The shop owner said they’re called “Sailor’s Valentines.” While the one I purchased is newly made, I saw others in the Nantucket Whaling Museum a few blocks away. What is the history behind these things of beauty? Who made them and where did they come from?

ANSWER: Most sailor’s valentines date from the early 19th century. Beginning in 1830, whaling ships set sail from Nantucket and later New Bedford, Massachusetts in search of mighty whales, from which they extracted whale oil used to grease the machines of the Industrial Revolution.


While Nantucket was the center of whaling in New England–at its height nearly 400 ships called the island port home—these weren’t the only types of ships that sailed the oceans of the world. Sailing ships, later known as clippers because of their fast speed, sailed to all the major ports of the world. From the early to the latter part of the 19th century when steam-powered ships took over the seas, the sailors aboard them spent years aboard in search of whales and moving cargo from one port of call to the next, often gone from home for several years. When they stopped to exchange cargo or gather provisions, they went ashore, discovering unique souvenirs to take home to their wives and girlfriends. Besides objects decorated with scrimshaw, which they, themselves, made, they found some unusual octagonal wooden boxes filled with seashells in shops on the island of Barbados in the Caribbean.

Between about 1830 and 1880, residents of Barbados made and sold what came to be known as Sailor’s Valentines to the lonely English and American sailors.

From the 1630s to the end of the 19th century, Barbados was an important port of call for sugar, rum, lumber, and fish. Because of this, a number of shops catered to the souvenir trade. The Victorian love for collecting and displaying exotic objects from afar possibly fueled the industry and contributed to the popularity of the valentines.

Historians believe that most of the sailors' valentines came from the New Curiosity Shop on McGregor Street in Bridgetown, Barbados, owned by two English brothers, B.H. and George Belgrave, who hired locals to make the valentines.

The local valentine makers constructed the special octagonal, hinged boxes, ranging in size from 8 to 15
inches across, using mahogany veneer for the sides and native cedar wood called cedrella, for the bottoms. Then they lined the insides of the boxes with colored paper, most often pink, onto which they placed cotton batting. Next they glued hundreds of colorful tiny seashells in intricate symmetrical mosaic designs incorporating hearts and flowers, which often featured a compass rose centerpiece. After gluing down all the shells, the maker placed a piece of glass over the design to protect them. They called these double valentines.

Sometimes the makers incorporated a special sentimental message that a sailor would request into the design, thus the name Sailors’ Valentines. Sentiments typically appeared only on the smaller 9½-inch double valentines, which often displayed a heart motif on the opposite half. Some of the more popular ones were “To My Sweetheart,” “To My Love,” “Home Again,” and “From a Friend.” The larger 13½- to 14-inch valentines rarely had sayings, but instead had more intricate shell-work designs on both sides.

Today, Sailors’ Valentines command high prices at auctions and antique shows. Some of the best, however, are part of the collections of the New Bedford and Nantucket Whaling Museums, and the Peabody Essex Museum, all in Massachusetts. Collectors value antique sailors' valentines for their beauty and unusual qualities. But their high prices make it difficult for most beginning collectors to acquire the originals. A small double valentine that twenty years ago sold for $350 to $600, now sells for $500 to $1,500, and the price for a large double valentine has jumped from $1,000 to between $2,500 and $10,000—that is if either can be found.

Plus, a thriving business making new sailors’ valentines has emerged on Nantucket Many of these have frames that have been faux finished to imitate the original woods and their designs copied to imitate the originals. Beyond the souvenir shops, collectors must be vigilant because many of these imitations have been sold as antiques.

All That Glitters Isn't Always Tiffany

QUESTION: I recently bought what I thought was a Tiffany lamp. I paid several hundred dollars for it and thought it was a steal. Now I'm not so sure. I cannot find a signature on it anywhere. Can you tell me if you think it's a Tiffany?

ANSWER: Unfortunately, as the old saying goes, "You got robbed." Well, not exactly. No, your lamp isn't a Tiffany. It's not even close. But what you paid for it probably is what it's worth. And as long as you like it, that's what counts.
 
The sight of what looks like a Tiffany lamp sends some people into a dream-like state. Others begin to see dollar signs at the mere mention of the name. Tiffany lamps have become the Holy Grail of antique collecting for many people. To find one—to own one—is paramount to winning the MegaMillions jackpot. And there lies the rub.

Because lamps made by Tiffany Studios command such a high price, people tend to lump all stained glass lamps into this one category. They think that any stained glass lamp is a Tiffany and that they’ll be set for life. In a million-to-one shot, they just might be, but more than likely, their lamp had been made by another company. While its not a fake, neither is it a Tiffany.

Between 1895 and 1915, small factories in New York and Chicago produced a huge variety of mosaic stained glass lamps to satisfy a growing demand for stylish lighting designs to complement the new electric lamps. While Tiffany Studios set the industry standard, other companies produced excellent designs as well.

Companies such as Duffner & Kimberly and Gorham, made lamps of a quality equal to Tiffany Studios and created styles that appealed more to the Victorian taste, although on its way out, that the American middle and upper middle class preferred. Some companies, like Wilkinson, made high quality bases, and took short cuts with their shades. Others, like Unique, focused on creating complex shades and paired them with simpler bases. Many copied Tiffany’s Art Nouveau designs—in many instances almost exactly—and many copied each other.

Tiffany lamps are about the most flamboyant art objects ever produced in America. They attract celebrities, speculators, and decorators, whose buying whims have driven the Tiffany market into a frenzy and then leave it a shambles when the next fad comes along. For the last few years, the market for these wonderful leaded-glass lamps, most produced during the first two decades of this century, has been recuperating from a decade-long manic-depressive binge.
 
During the 1950's, a few pioneer collectors began looking at the sensuous floral lamps made by Louis Comfort Tiffany and his Tiffany Studios. Louis was the son of the founder of the famous New York jewelry firm, but for most of his life he preferred painting, the  decorative arts, and interior design.

During the 1960s, interest in the lamps grew rapidly because their restless, fragmented, colorful designs fit nicely into eclectic, psychedelic decorating schemes of that time. Inflation in the 1970's drew investors, speculators, and celebrities into a market where prices sometimes doubled from year to year. Recession in the early 1980's drove those buyers from the market, and prices collapsed. Since then, prices for  some lamps have moved back to, or even above, their former highs; but the market is still very selective one.
 
The current record price for a Tiffany lamp is the $528,000 paid in December, 1984, at  Christie's in New York City for a large floor lamp with a shade in the Magnolia pattern.  The lamp was one of several being sold by record producer David Geffen, who had been a major Tiffany buyer during the era of hectic growth. Although it was set long after those halcyon days, the record was more a last gasp than a portent of things to come. Today, authentic lamps made by Tiffany Studios and signed either “Louis Comfort Tiffany” or “Tiffany Studios” on the rim of the shade go for as high as $30,000. No wonder there are so many “Tiffphonies” out there. Neither of the lamps pictured here are Tiffanys.