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A couple of years ago I was invited to
value a collection of antiques amassed by
a highly successful businessman. The
journey took me to the Dorset coast and a
multi-million-pound house overlooking the
world's second-largest natural harbour. I
was met off the train and chauffeur-driven
to the property, where we admired a
collection of sports cars housed in an
underground parking bay, before heading up
into the house. Things were looking
promising: the capital was clearly
available to have bought the very best
antiques over the years. Was I about to be
given access to a collection of exquisite
porcelain, priceless paintings or
wonderful furniture?
Unfortunately, wonderful houses,
appallingly furnished are rife. Often I
leaf though the property pages of Country
Life, admiring the magnificent stately
piles on sale, only to be let down by
shots of the interiors filled with
reproduction furniture and equally awful
pictures.
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This
George III tripod table is
probably worth £45000
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This
table shows signs of
being a hybrid
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IIn an age in which property prices are
king and expert advice is sought on
anything from mortgages to relocation
management, homeowners can waste thousands
of pounds on poor furniture and art for
their expensive homes. Why is this? In
some instances it is simply a matter of
taste, but in others it is due to a lack
of confidence and understanding, coupled
with an absence of professional
advice.
Interiors, as demonstrated by my client
in Dorset, can be a disaster zone. The
prize of this furniture collection turned
out to be a mahogany tripod table dating
from circa 1770. It was potentially an
object worth more than £100,000, and
my client was eager for my opinion. He
told me that he had bought it from a
dealer about 20 years ago and had a copy
of the purchase receipt.
The answer, as is often the case, was a
resounding no. The paintings in the house
might have been on loan from the local
Indian restaurant, what little porcelain
there was, was chipped or damaged, and
almost every piece of antique furniture
had been altered and badly restored.
I immediately pulled the metal catch
under the top, allowing it to tilt
vertically. (As is often the case when
assessing antiques, it is the undersides
that tell the real story.) Cleverly
disguised, but just about visible if you
knew what you were looking for, were four
small filled holes, indicating that
earlier "bearers" had been in place.
Bearers are parallel strips of wood
attached under a tabletop, giving support
and acting as braces when the top is
horizontal.
Another look with my torch showed me
that the wooden block attached to the top
of the turned column support had a
different outline from the shadow of a
previous block that could be seen between
the bearers.
With the detective work done, I now had
to break the news to my client that his
little gem was, in fact, a dead duck. He
had overpaid for something that had begun
life as two separate tables and had been
"married" at some stage in the past by a
cunning restorer. Tops get damaged, legs
get broken. What to do with a good top
with a damaged base and a good base with a
damaged top? Bring the two healthy
components together - and, more often than
not, no one will be the wiser. What might
have been worth a small flat in London was
worth between £4,000 and
£6,000.
A Sheraton period sideboard
Real? Maybe £6000; not so real?
£300
Needless to say, my client was
shell-shocked. Small talk dried up and it
really was a case of "don't shoot the
messenger". Someone called for a taxi to
take me back to the station.
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