Rinker on Collectibles

Maintaining a Sense of Wonder - Part II

In Part I of this “Rinker on Collectibles” mini-series, I introduced readers to the concept of wonder as it relates to antiques and collectibles. I also expressed concern that I was becoming complacent and losing my ability to see wonder in objects to the same degree I had earlier in my career. The column ended with this tease: “Something happened at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that re-awoke my passion and enthusiasm for objects. I will let you wonder what it was until you read my next ‘Rinker on Collectibles’ text column.”

In order for you to appreciate what happened, I must maintain the suspense a bit longer. When I needed to renew my passion, I previously utilized one of three methods. The first is a visit to the home of a prominent collector. Seeing a collection through the eyes of its owner is an exhilarating experience. The collector’s enthusiasm, research knowledge, and insights always expand my horizons. I leave seeing the objects in the collection in a new light. Time often is suspended. A visit lasting hours appears to be over in a matter of minutes.

The second method involves a conversation with a scholar/expert in the field. Individuals who have the ability to analyze general trends and see connections between dissident portions of the trade are my favorite conversationalists. These individuals are a rare breed. I am fortunate to have known several. Alas, many are no longer with us or active in the trade. I keep looking for the next generation but am having difficulty finding them. I blame myself. They must be out there.

The third comes from encountering an object that stimulates my curiosity. However, as I pointed out in the previous column, experience has increased my familiarity with the antiques and collectibles trade to the point that it is becoming harder and harder to find something that turns me on.

[Author’s Aside: Once again, I have used a cliché, thus defying the many individuals who have invested their time in attempting to polish my writing skills. I did it deliberately. Hence, I offer no apology.]

Over the past decades, I have learned that I do not have to own an object for it to create wonder. Objects in private collections, at auction, or priced at a level I cannot afford are all fair game. (Oops, there is another cliché.) I still covet and dream. All collectors do. I share reluctantly, but I appreciate those who share with me.

Professionally, I floated in and out of a career in the museum field between 1966 and 1984. The conflict between my desire to add to my collection and my obligation to collect for the museum that employed me was one of the reasons I left the museum field. I also made a vow that I would never donate anything I collected to a museum. Once an object enters a museum collection, it is off the market.

[Author’s Aside: Actually, the latter is not entirely true. Many museums are de-accessioning items that no longer fit their collection philosophy. If a private collector owns an object a museum desires badly enough, the museum might consider swapping another item, one coveted by the collector, from its collection in order to acquire it. The museum profession keeps this latter practice very hush-hush.]

Although it was on my “to do” list, I had not visited the renovated American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a glaring oversight which I am hesitant to admit. A field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art scheduled as part of the Fall 2010 Honors 398 course at Western Connecticut State University was one of the reasons why I volunteered to assist in teaching the course.

The Western honors students were challenged to roam the halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and find objects that piqued wonder in their minds. Upon arrival, I immediately wandered (I love puns too) toward the American Wing.

I almost failed to complete my journey. In the Hall of Armor, I spotted a Colt Third Model Dragoon Percussion Revolver featuring elaborate gold inlay done by the German-born engraver Gustave Young. The museum label notes: “The gold inlay includes a bust of George Washington, set flush into the cylinder, and the arms of the United States in low relief on the frame…the mate to this pistol is in the Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. The pair was separated in 1854, during the Crimean War between Russia and Turkey, when Colt presented one to Czar Nicholas I and the other (which became the Museum’s) to Sultan Abdülmecid I.”

The revolver was a thing of beauty, an aesthetic masterpiece. It stopped me dead in my tracks. (I have lost count of the clichés.) I stared at it for over five minutes before I walked over and read the label. I wanted to touch, hold, and caress it—three acts that are forbidden in most museums.

The wonder was instantaneous. How did Young do the engraving? How could Colt give away anything so beautiful? How and when did the revolver find its way first into private ownership and then into the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s collection? Could I talk with the curator who had the wisdom to understand that this object was more a work of art than a weapon? It took me ten minutes to disengage and accept that answers to these and my many other questions had to be postponed.

While I loved the objects in the sculpture garden at the entrance to the American Wing, I found the period rooms and exhibit cases a bit ho-hum—same old, same old. The furniture and accessories were impressive, but I had seen most of them during earlier visits.

As I was ascending a staircase from the first to the third floor, I encountered a door labeled “Open Storage.” Never pass up a chance to go behind the scenes. As I entered the American Wing’s open storage area, what to my wondering eyes should appear (apologies to Clement Moore) but John Singer Sargent’s Madame X, a portrait I first encountered in my 1960 Introduction to Art course at Lehigh University. The fact that the Metropolitan Museum of Art has this portrait in storage says much about the strength of its collections. As I walked through the open storage, I encountered several other “old” friends as well. My mind started to wonder and never stopped.

While the American Wing’s open storage created the initial spark, it was the Charles Rohlfs furniture exhibition in the Wing’s exhibit gallery that re-awoke my passion for objects. The exhibit’s introductory wall label read: “With echoes of the late-nineteenth century Aesthetic Movement, Rohlfs sought ‘truth’ in furniture and believed that art springs from ‘the unfettering of the wings of imagination.’ Rohlfs artistic furniture – made in one extraordinary decade – pushed the boundaries of originality, yielding a surprising sense of the man himself.” “Rohlfs – If I make a chair, then I am a chair” graced one of the interior exhibit walls.

I have seen individual Rohlfs pieces during my career. While I liked them, I was not overly impressed. One does not often fit the bill. The chance to view dozens of Rohlfs pieces as a unit was a revelation.

The Western honors students and faculty were asked to create a post about the objects that triggered wonder for them. My Rohlfs exhibit post reads: “I heard a symphony during my visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At first the melody was light, yet haunting. The song sounded familiar but contained variations I had not heard before. As I progressed through the exhibit, the melody constantly changed, sweet one moment and vividly passionate the next. Each object altered the vision created by the preceding object and the exhibit as a whole. I was swept away by a sense of discovery over which I had no control. The final crescendo was overpowering. As I left the exhibit, I realized that I had gained a new perspective on how to think about furniture and decorative accessories. I was emotionally exhausted. After leaving the Rohlfs exhibit, the objects I saw in the museum existed in time and space but not in my mind.”

“Rinker quote: Aesthetic objects sing.” Ah, the wonder of it all.

Rinker Enterprises and Harry L. Rinker are on the Internet. Check out www.harryrinker.com.

You can listen and participate in WHATCHA GOT?, Harry’s antiques and collectibles radio call-in show, on Sunday mornings between 8:00 AM and 10:00 AM Eastern Time. If you cannot find it on a station in your area, WHATCHA GOT? streams live on the Internet at www.gcnlive.com.

SELL, KEEP OR TOSS? HOW TO DOWNSIZE A HOME, SETTLE AN ESTATE, AND APPRAISE PERSONAL PROPERTY (House of Collectibles, an imprint of the Random House Information Group, $16.95), Harry’s latest book, is available at your favorite bookstore and via www.harryrinker.com.

back to columns page