The value of things made to last
By Andy Slotin and Nancy Schwartz
Charleston is a city shaped by preservation. Its Georgian and Federal buildings, Greek Revival details, Italianate ornament, and iconic single houses have endured because generations repaired, adapted, and cared for them rather than discarding them when tastes changed. They offer a lasting lesson in materials. Craftsmanship and stewardship.
The same lesson applies to the furniture inside them. A dining table might serve a family for generations. A chest of drawers was constructed to withstand decades — sometimes centuries — of daily use. Chairs were made to be used, repaired, refinished, reupholstered and passed on. In a world where convenience often encourages replacement, Charleston’s preservation culture invites us to ask not only what something costs, but how it was made and how long it can last.
That question is at the heart of this new column.
Charleston provides an extraordinary setting to consider this idea, because everywhere we look, we are reminded of what happens when things are built to last. Walk through the historic district and consider the evidence. Georgian symmetry and proportion give way to the lighter refinement of Federal design. Greek Revival columns and classical details appear alongside later Italianate ornament. And throughout the city stands one of Charleston’s most recognizable forms: the Charleston single house, its narrow end facing the street and its long side opening onto piazzas. These buildings are more than beautiful backdrops to Charleston life. They are lessons in materials, craftsmanship, adaptation and preservation. They have survived wars, fires, earthquakes, hurricanes and changing tastes. Successive generations have repaired and adapted them rather than simply discarding them when they become old.
Somewhere along the way, our relationship with the things in our homes has changed. Today, we live in a world of extraordinary convenience. A room can be furnished in an afternoon. Almost anything can arrive at our doorstep within days. Convenience has its place, but it has also changed how we think about value. We have become accustomed to asking, “What does it cost?” Perhaps we should also ask, “How was it made? And how long will it last?”
Learning to see quality
Consider an English chest made generations ago. Open a drawer. Look at the handmade dovetail joints. Feel the chamfered bottom, the weight of the wood. Examine the hardware, the grain, the veneer and the finish. Look underneath the piece and behind it — not merely at the polished surfaces intended to be seen. Those details tell a story.
For centuries, English cabinetmakers worked in woods such as mahogany, walnut and oak, employing techniques that required considerable skill. Charleston’s long cultural and commercial relationship with England makes English furniture particularly relevant here. Pieces crossed the Atlantic and became part of Southern interiors, while English design traditions influenced American furniture and decorative arts.
The tradition did not end with 18th- and 19th-century antiques. Twentieth-century furniture makers and companies continued to produce pieces using materials and techniques associated with fine furniture. One of the more prominent American mid-century manufacturers, Henkel Harris, founded in Virginia in 1946, built its reputation around traditional craftsmanship, carefully developed finishes and furniture inspired by earlier British and American forms. Maitland-Smith, a later 20th-century company originally founded in the UK, became known for labor-intensive decorative techniques, including hand carving, marquetry inlaid veneers, cast metalwork and hand-tooled leather. Twentieth-century manufacturers like Kittinger, Baker and Henredon still catch the attention of knowledgeable buyers today for a reason. They can signal a period when furniture manufacturers placed considerable emphasis on materials, construction and finishing.
But a name alone never tells the entire story. Learning to recognize quality is far more useful than simply considering makers’ labels. A beautifully constructed anonymous chest may deserve more attention than one made by a recognizable name. Additionally, condition issues can cause someone to overlook an exceptionally well-made piece of furniture whose merits are worth the trouble and expense to restore. This is where education becomes important.
Old does not mean outdated
One misconception about antiques is that appreciating them requires living in a formal room filled entirely with old furniture. It doesn’t. An 18th- or early 19th-century English chest can sit beneath contemporary artwork and look as fashionable as any newly manufactured piece made from veneer over particle board. A 19th-century dining table can sit among modern chairs. A beautifully constructed vintage console can live comfortably beside a contemporary sofa. An inherited piece can be reupholstered or thoughtfully incorporated into a room that otherwise feels completely current. Some of the most interesting homes in Charleston have always evolved this way, one generation layered on top of another. The result is a home that feels collected rather than purchased all at once.
Another misconception worth addressing: antique does not mean expensive. Certainly, rare and important antiques can (certainly) command substantial prices. But the market for antique and vintage furniture is remarkably broad. Today, you can find beautifully made older furniture for prices comparable to, and many times considerably less than, newly manufactured pieces. That changes the value equation. The purchase price is only one measure of cost. A piece that must be replaced repeatedly can ultimately cost far more than a well-made older piece that can be repaired, refinished, and passed to another generation.
An environmental argument also hides in plain sight. The furniture that already exists requires no new tree to be harvested for its frame, no new factory production, and no new piece to replace it simply because a trend has changed. Reusing, restoring and living with well-made furniture may be one of the oldest forms of sustainability. Repurposing finely made furniture is as environmentally friendly as any. As they say, “What's old is new again!”
A different way of looking
Over the coming months, we hope to explore this world together. Topics will include: How can you recognize a well-made piece of furniture? What do dovetail joints tell you? What is the difference between solid wood and veneer — and why can a fine veneer be evidence of sophisticated cabinetmaking rather than the often-thought, misguided belief that veneered furniture is bad? What makes English furniture distinctive? What did America’s great furniture makers do distinctively? When should something be restored, and when should its patina be left alone?
We will look at silver, porcelain, furniture, decorative arts and the objects that Charleston families have lived with for generations. We will talk about craftsmanship, history, changing markets and the difference between monetary value and lasting value. Between us, we encounter these objects from two different vantage points: one through more than a century of Charleston’s antiques trade and the other through the estates and homes of families throughout the Lowcountry.
We see exceptional pieces and everyday pieces. Inherited pieces and forgotten pieces. Objects are worth thousands, and some are worth very little in today’s marketplace — and why. And occasionally, we encounter something that someone is preparing to discard simply because no one ever taught them what they were looking at. Perhaps that is where this column can make a difference.
Charleston has spent generations learning that preservation does not mean thinking rigidly about a city and her past. It means recognizing what is worth carrying forward. Perhaps we should look at the things inside our homes the same way. Because appreciating antiques (and vintage furniture) isn’t about looking backward. It is about learning to recognize their attributes and how painstaking and difficult these trades were in yesteryear. (And something made beautifully yesterday can still have extraordinary value.) In the coming issues, we look forward to offering our thoughts and welcoming your questions.
As John Keats wrote, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
Andy Slotin is the principal of George C. Birlant & Co. (Antiques); Nancy Schwartz is the CEO of Blue Moon Estate Sales Charleston.
