OF THE ULTRA-SATISFYING ANTIQUE-SHOPS OF ITALY—OF THE DASH AND SPIRIT
OF ITALIAN WORM-HOLES—OF THE SUPERIOR SHOP-FILLING POWERS OF THE
ITALIAN ANTIQUE-DEALERS OVER THAT OF THE FRENCH—AND OF THE MODERN
TENDENCY TOWARD CRABBEDNESS IN THE FRENCH DEALERS
Generally speaking, the antique-shops of Italy are more satisfactory
than those of any other country because of the fire and _verve_ with
which the Italian shopkeepers fight against attempts to make them lower
their prices; because of the inventiveness and resource of the ancient
Italian furniture artists in turning out the best worm-holes known to
science; and because of the enormous number of places where ancient
and mediæval art objects can be bought for as little as eight dollars
per object—duplicates obtainable from Fifteenth Century craftsmen at a
moment’s notice.
A very charming American lady recently declared that of all the Italian
cities, Florence was the most fascinating and attractive. She had
not, however, been fascinated or attracted by the scenery or the
architecture or the churches or the picture galleries. “Why,” she
explained, “you can get antiques there at half the prices that you have
to pay in Rome and about a quarter of what you have to pay in Paris!”
This fascinating feature is due to the fact that there are so many
Cinque Cento artisans still living in Florence. Nevertheless, the
French antique-shops are superior in general grace and style to the
Italian because the ancient Italian workmen now living in Florence lack
a certain dash and spirit which seem to be common to the French—except
in the matter of making worm-holes.
The Italian worm-holes stand at the very pinnacle of the worm-hole
world; and when an antique Italian workman really exerts himself
to worm-hole a piece of oak, the French workman stands aside in
reverential amazement. The French workman, however, has the dash.
Before purchasing antiques in Europe, one should acquaint himself with
the various brands of dash which may be observed in different sorts of
furniture. French furniture dash, for example, is much dashier than
Bavarian or Ukrainian dash. Czecho-Slovak dash and Bulgarian dash
are quite dissimilar. Subscriptions are even now being taken by the
American Academy for the Popularization of Antiquities to establish
classes in furniture dash.†
————
† Donations for this worthy cause may be sent in the form of
certified checks, postage stamps, or unused golf balls to
Dr. Milton Kilgallen, Floral Park City, Florida.
The average Italian antique-dealer will crowd into a given space,
say, four wooden candlesticks made to represent four angels, two or
three Venetian glass mirrors, a Savonarola chair, seventeen pieces of
china, three wooden chests containing fifty-six square feet of surface
and eleven miles of worm-holes, a dozen venerable and tattered altar
cloths, made by ancient weavers and embroiderers in Naples in 1919, and
a few wrought-iron odds and ends removed from a palace in the purlieus
of Pisa by a prominent palace-wrecker.
[Illustration: PLATE VIII
COLONIAL TRIGLE-STOOL, DISCOVERED IN A NEW HAMPSHIRE WOODSHED,
AND PURCHASED FOR A MERE SONG BY PROFESSOR KILGALLEN
As one of the legs was partially missing, it is believed that
the owners considered this rare old piece valueless. Professor
Kilgallen has not allowed any restorations to be made. The
profane hands of the modern reproducer of old furniture have
never been permitted to touch any articles of his collection.
]
In the same space the average French dealer seems unable to find
room for more than one dough-trough, two pewter plates with the
salamander of Francis I done on them in _repoussé_, a pair of Louis
XIV curling-tongs, and a washed-out-looking portrait of a satin-clad
and powdered-haired lady whose face has the lop-sided aristocratic
appearance that will only be found in true aristocrats or in persons
who have been kicked by mules perchance in their early days. And
the portraits which are on sale in every Parisian antique-shop are
sometimes most valuable because the general unpleasantness of the
aristocrats which they represent serves to make every beholder wonder
why the French Revolution didn’t start exterminating aristocrats about
a hundred years sooner.
At any rate, the superior shop-filling ability of the Italian dealers
is one reason why it is far easier to indulge one’s passion for
antiqueing in Italy than in France.
A disappointing feature about the French antique-shops is the apparent
indifference of the shopkeepers to the attempts of customers to engage
them in violent and interesting altercations over the prices of their
wares. This is a modern phase of the antique-business and ranks, in
France, with such inexplainable matters as why man-sized boys wear
little tight knickerbockers that come only halfway down to the knee,
and why a Parisian who apparently lives in comfort in his home or a
hotel with the thermometer down to forty degrees will shriek with
anguish when any one raises a window in a railway compartment in which
the temperature is hovering around ninety-four degrees.
In the old days when a Parisian antique-dealer placed a price of
fifteen hundred francs on an article, the prospective buyer offered
five hundred for it, and then the argument began. The dealer shed
tears; swore that his business standing would be shattered if he
dropped a centime in price; mentioned his sick wife most touchingly;
gave a long history of the antique in question, showing its great
value; beat his breast and begged the purchaser not to ruin him; and
ended by selling the article for seven hundred francs.
To-day, when a Parisian dealer places a price of fifteen hundred francs
on an article and the customer offers five hundred for it, the dealer
is more than likely to smile quietly but contemptuously, remark,
“M’sieu jests,” and refuse to converse further on the matter. This
removes the zest from the proceeding. One does not care to purchase
antiques as one purchases collars; one goes elsewhere.