New
York Times
Friday, January 5, 2001
"Browsing Intimately, in Period Rooms"
by Wendy Moonan
A furniture showroom may be the best place to buy a sofa bed, but
perhaps it is not the ideal setting in which to sell serious antiques.
At least that's the view of Mark Jacoby, who with his wife, Diana
Jacoby, owns Philip Colleck, a 63-year-old gallery that specializes
in fine 18th--century English furniture.
Mr. Jacoby recently moved his shop from a loftlike space downtown
to a pre-Civil War town house at 311 East 58th Street. The house
is possibly the only free-standing antiques store in Manhattan,
and Mr. Jacoby has meticulously restored its three floors to show
his merchandise in period rooms.
It is an expensive gamble, especially for a dealer in his 40's,
when the number of New York dealers with shops is declining.
The handsome brick house, set back from the street, has an old-fashioned
English cast-iron street lamp and a picket fence in front. There
are trees on both sides, and a large garden in back. The house,
designated a landmark in 1967, has classical proportions, and its
red brick is set off by the white fence and black stone trim. If
it did not have a sign, one would probably assume it was a single-family
house.
"It's a simple Georgian, late Federal town house," Mr.
Jacoby said. "Everything is symmetrical and straight. It could
almost be an early-18th-century house."
The homey feeling is reinforced in the interior. The windows, moldings
and wide-plank wood floors are original. A foyer with an elegant
staircase leads into the main drawing room, which is carefully furnished
with antiques, china and silver.
Ms. Jacoby, a board member of the National Antique and Art Dealers
Association of America, decorated it in traditional wallpapers.
Pictures and mirrors hang above the side tables. Chinese porcelain
sits on the lowboys. It's welcoming yet private.
"It wasn't easy to find this place," Mr. Jacoby said.
"We looked for two years before we purchased the building.
But we had always wanted to display our merchandise in room settings,
and we wanted to be back uptown on the East Side, where our clients
are. We're also only a block from the D&D Building, so it's
easy for designers and architects to visit."
The house has an unusual history. Up to now it has been a private
house. Mr. Jacoby said it was built by a brick mason as his own
house before the Civil War. In 1873 a Hudson Street printer occupied
the house. In 1877 it was purchased by a Prussian-born merchant
named Mathias Down.
In the 1930's Tennessee Williams lived there as a boarder, and
in 1950 Mr. Down's grandson sold the house to Charles Jones, a San
Francisco musician who moved to New York to teach musical composition
at Julliard and the Mannes College of Music. Mr. Jones held master
classes in the house and lived there with his family for nearly
50 years. He died in 1997.
Today one can buy a houseful of furniture there at one go. The
floors display English furniture from the late 17th to early 19th
centuries, along with mirrors, screens and accessories. There are
sets of chairs, commodes, game tables, chests-on-chest, kneehole
bureaus, leather screens - you name it.
"It's pretty much anything that would have been in an English
country house in the 1700's," Mr. Jacoby said. In the 18th
century, England was at the height of its commercial and military
power.
"The burgeoning upper middle-class and aristocracy retired
from dirty London into the English countryside to build grand houses,"
Mr. Jacoby continued. "They were formal showcases for their
owners to display wealth, sophistication and taste. They often used
the most fashionable architects and furniture makers of the day."
The styles represented included William and Mary, Queen Anne, George
I, II, III, and Regency. "We look for pieces that are special,
"Mr. Jacoby said. " Honest and beautiful in terms of design,
color or surface decoration. We want pieces that bear proof of their
age."
The current showstopper is a rare Queen Anne burl walnut bureau
bookcase from about 1705, standing 8 foot 1. The piece is unusual
because it was made in three sections. The top is like a cabinet,
with adjustable shelves and eight drawers. Beneath its double-domed
broken-arch pediment are a pair of doors covered with their original
double-beveled smoky mirrors. Each is bordered in a beveled mirror
frame.
"Glass was extremely expensive then because there was only
a handful of glass houses in England that could produce panels this
large," Mr. Jacoby said. "The glass would have been worth
far more than the piece."
The center section has a slant-front desk with twin matched burl
walnut veneers. It opens to reveal an arrangement of cubbyholes
and drawers. The writing surface is waist high.
"This was a secretary made for a sea captain so he could write
standing up, which is what captains always did on board ship,"
Mr. Jacoby said. "It's a nautical touch."
The desk, whose price approaches $500,000, has its original candle
slides, hardware and keys. It even has old labels inside the drawers.
One is marked "shaving things," another "waistcoats,"
another "old coats."
"A piece like this had multiple functions," he explained.
"The man would have shaved in front of it."
Mr. Jacoby bought the desk at auction in London after researching
its origin. It had been anonymously consigned by the owners of Walton
Hall, the English manor house for which it was made 300 years ago.
"Sometimes you get lucky," he said. "The family needed
a new roof. To find a piece that has always been in the same family
is extraordinarily rare."
Other exceptional pieces on display include a pair of beautifully
painted Sheraton chairs with interlaced-heard backs, and early Queen
Anne chair with cabriole legs, whose crest rail serves as a headrest
on which a woman can lean her wig; a 17th-century lacquered Japanese
cabinet with gilded copper mounts and a custom-made, elaborately
carved gilt stand; a Chippendale mahogany concertina games table;
and an eight-panel leather screen with Delftware plaques and painted
Chinoiserie scenes.
Mr. Jacoby, currently chairman of the dealer's committee of the
Winter Antiques Show, certainly knows his furniture. A Pittsburgh
native and the son of an antiques collector, he studied art history
at Kenyon College, spent his junior year in Rome and then took Christie's
decorative arts course in London.
"You couldn't specialize in decorative arts in this country
at that time," he recalled.
In 1980, fresh out of school, he went to work for Philip Colleck,
a veteran English dealer who had set up shop in Manhattan in 1938.
Renowned for his extensive knowledge of the field, Mr. Colleck trained
Mr. Jacoby (and his wife, whom he met there). Mr. Colleck died in
1987 and left his entire estate to charity. The Jacobys bought the
firm from the estate.
The Jacobys are part of a younger generation of serious dealers
who are determined to succeed as shopkeepers. "I always recommend
them," said Albert Sack, an Americana dealer in Manhattan who
is in 80's. "I admire their efforts to be purists."
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