Hidden Treasures Read online

  Copyright © 2000 by Leigh and Leslie Keno

  All rights reserved.

  ANTIQUES ROADSHOW is a trademark of the BBC. All rights reserved.

  Produced under license from BBC Worldwide.

  Leigh and Leslie Keno offer special thanks to the Chubb Corporation for their support of this terrific program.

  Warner Books, Inc.,

  Hachette Book Group, 237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

  The Warner Books name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  A Time Warner Company

  First eBook Edition: November 2000

  ISBN: 978-0-446-54936-3

  Book design by David Larkin

  Contents

  HIDDEN TREASURES

  Acknowledgments

  1: Going Once…

  2: “We Are Antique Dealers”

  3: Putting It Together

  4: The Shell Game

  5: A Philadelphia Story

  6: Open Talons in the Hamptons

  7: All That Glitters…

  8: Catch and Release

  9: Two for the Road

  10: Hidden in Plain Sight

  11: Double Take

  12: The Tacoma Come-On

  13: …Gone!

  Glossary

  Bibliography

  From a pair of rare eighteenth-century chairs found in a chicken coop…to a stunning silver-mounted secretary-bookcase uncovered in Paris…to the small mahogany card table bought at a yard sale for twenty-five dollars that turned out to be a masterpiece of American furniture worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, antique experts Leigh and Leslie Keno now show you how even the least likely place can harbor a cache of…

  HIDDEN TREASURES

  Since childhood, identical twins Leigh and Leslie Keno, familiar to millions through their appearances on Antiques Roadshow™, have devoted their lives to the field of antique American furniture and have had a passion for discovering unexpected rarities. When they were teens they went to flea markets with their parents; today they are sought out by wealthy collectors and are at home in the world’s top auction houses. Here, in this stunning volume, the brothers describe more than a dozen of their most fascinating treasure hunts and extraordinary discoveries, demonstrating that even today rare and precious antiques can be found anywhere.

  Accompanied by a colorful cast of characters including colleagues, connoisseurs, amateur collectors, craftsmen—and even a charlatan or two—Leigh and Leslie take you behind the scenes of the world of antiques, reliving the thrill of the hunt and revealing the secrets of their trade. Along with their experience and expertise, they share their love and appreciation of fine craftsmanship and beauty. You, too, will hear the pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer haunting the beaten surface of an iron hinge, see the sculptural and sensual curves in the lines of a carved chair, and be seduced by the rare, exotic depths of plum-toned woods.

  HIDDEN TREASURES will inspire you to take a second look at your own neglected family heirlooms and dust-covered relics. Lavishly designed, filled with rich full-color photographs, and offering a bibliography and a glossary, it is both a joy to look at and read and a useful reference. . .a book that is in itself a most valuable find.

  LEIGH KENO owns and runs Leigh Keno American Antiques in New York. City. A former VP of Appraisals and expert in American furniture at Christie’s he has written articles for Art & Antiques, The Magazine Antiques, and the scholarly journal American Furniture.

  LESLIE KENO is Senior Specialist and Director of Business Development for American at Sotheby’s New York. He has been published in the American Ceramic Circle Journal and Sotheby’s Encyclopedia of Furniture.

  JOAN BARZILAY FREUND is a New York-based freelance writer. She is the author of Masterpieces of Americana: The Collection of Mr. & Mrs. Adolph Henry Meyer. Her work has also appeared in Chicago, Tribune, Elle Décor, Art & Antiques, and Art & Auction.

  This book is dedicated to our parents, Norma and Ronald Keno

  Acknowledgments

  Hidden Treasures: Searching for Masterpieces of American Furniture has been realized only through the generous efforts of many individuals. We owe our first debt of gratitude to Joan Barzilay Freund. She understands us and our crazy passion for things and the stories that surround them in a way that no one else can. Without Joan, this book would not have been possible.

  We thank Aida Moreno for her ongoing encouragement and enthusiasm. We are greatful for the support of Betsy Groban, Peter Cook, Lou Wiley, and Peter McGhee of WGBH. Warm thanks also go to those who graciously shared their personal and poignant recollections: Robert Backlund, Claire Beckmann, Richard Dietrich, Robert Fileti, Tom Lloyd, Thierry Millerand, Alexandre Pradère, Chris Machmer, Morgan MacWhinnie, John Nye, Ron DeSilva, Kevin Tierney, Nate Wallace, and Ed Weissman.

  So many people are deserving of our thanks for their valuable advice. We are most grateful to Luke Beckerdite for his insights into Newport and Philadelphia cabinet-making techniques. We also acknowledge Dede Brooks, Wendy Cooper, Dan Farrell, Dean Failey, John Hays, Peter Kenney, Barbara Livy, John Marion, Michael Moses, Robert Mussey, Bill Samaha, Bill Stahl, and Jim Tottis. Personal thanks also go to the collectors Ted and Barbara Alfond, Peter Brant, Stuart Feld, Jesse Price, George and Linda Kaufman, Ned and Lillie Johnson, Tim and Lisa Robertson, Peter Terian, Tony and Lulu Wang, Irving and Joy Wolf, and Martin and Ethel Wunsch.

  Countless individuals provided generous assistance with photographs: Lisa Abitol of WGBH; Put Brown; Mark Anderson of Winterthur Museum; John M. Driggers of Robert Mussey Associates, Inc.; Linda Eppich, curator, and Jennifer Bond, assistant curator, of Graphics, The Rhode Island Historical Society; Alan Gorsuch of Sanford & Son Auctions; Valerie Hardy of the College of William and Mary; Stephen Harris of the Dallas Museum of Art; Kelly K. Leu, curator of collections, Jefferson County Historical Society; Clayton Pennington, Lita Solis-Cohen, and David Hewett of Maine Antique Digest; Debbie M. Rebuck, curator, and Jacqueline M. DeGroff, associate curator, The Dietrich American Foundation; Dr. John Reese; Joel and Betty Schatzberg; Scudder Smith of Antiques and the Arts Weekly, and Laura Beach of Antiques America, and Jonathan Thomas. We also thank the photographic services departments of Christie’s, Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, Harvard University Art Museum, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Sotheby’s.

  Many photographers are deserving of our appreciation for contributing their efforts. Jeff Dunn unselfishly donated his time and photographs. Gavin Ashworth, Leslie Jean-Bart, Ben Cohen of Sotheby’s, Lynn Diane De Marco, Tom Jenkins, Duncan Livingston, Kelly J. Mihalcoe, and Sally Neeld have all been very helpful. We are especially grateful to Lady Ostepect for sending the long lost photograph of us with our mother at a flea market.

  We offer special thanks to our agent, the dynamic Susan Ginsburg of Writer’s House. We are also grateful to John Hodgman and Elizabeth Gilbert for their early assistance, as well as our attorney, Mark Lawless, for his excellent guidance and brilliant sense of humor. Thanks are also due to the staff at Katy Gallagher’s, where we spent long hours working on the book.

  We are grateful to Angela George for her skillful fact checking and research on various objects, Janis Mandrus for coordinating the photography, and Amy Coes for organizing the bibliography and glossary. We also wish to thank our colleagues Clifford Harvard, Carisa Koontz Sykes, and Marnie Reasor of Leigh Keno American Antiques, as well as Tanya Hayes and Beth Koules of Sotheby’s.

  We were fortunate to have worked with a fantastic team at Warner Books. We thank especially Maureen Egen, President of Time Warner Trade Publishing. Our wonderful editor, Les Pockell, who convinced us to trust our story to Warner Books and
who, together with Harvey-Jane Kowal, expertly guided us once we arrived. We also acknowledge Christine Dao, Jean Griffin, Karen Melnyk, Jackie Meyer, Jennifer Romanello, and Flamur Tonuzi. We are especially grateful to our book designer, the visionary David Larkin.

  Deep thanks are due to Alex Acevedo, who believed in Leigh and offered his support when Leigh first started his business.

  We express our most appreciative thanks to Joan’s husband, Tony Freund, and son, Thomas, for allowing us to take so much of her time, and to her parents, Robert and Alice Barzilay, for pinch-hitting on babysitting. Finally, we extend our deepest gratitude to members of our own families for their unfailing support and encouragement: Leslie’s wife, Emily, and daughter, Ashley; Leigh’s son, Brandon, and his mother, Jasmin EspaÑol; our brother, Mitchell, who is now working with Leigh; Grandma Wava; and of course our parents, Ronald and Norma Keno.

  When you are born a twin, the first lesson you learn is about sharing—be it a toy, a blanket, or time with your parents—and that has certainly colored our strategy for writing this book. Since we wanted to make Hidden Treasures a chronicle of both our adventures in antiquing, we knew from the start that even here we would have to abandon any competitive urges and politely take turns.

  So as you embark on reading this book, please realize that our voices alternate from chapter to chapter (although there are a few exceptions). We've tried to leave enough signals and clues in the text so that it is easy to pick up on which of us is the narrator. As to which of us is the better storyteller? You be the judge. Enjoy!

  —LEIGH AND LESLIE KENO

  1

  Going Once…

  “LOT NUMBER 701, THE CARVED MAPLE BEDSTEAD…And we have a $1,500 bid to start it, bidding at $1,500. I have $2,000…now $2,500…on the phone now $3,000…”

  When I heard auctioneer Bill Stahl open the bidding on that bed frame, at Sotheby’s Important Americana sale of January 17, 1999, my heart began to race. Run-of-the-mill New England bedsteads don’t usually have that effect on me. After all, I have been with Sotheby’s for over twenty years—seventeen of which have been spent as the director of the American Furniture and Decorative Arts Department—so I’ve seen my share of maple beds.

  My pulse quickened, however, because I knew that within moments that Federal bedstead would be sold and the bidding would open on the next lot—a large mahogany secretary-bookcase made in Newport, Rhode Island, in the 1740s. This particular bookcase was unlike any other piece of American furniture that I had ever seen before. From the moment I first laid eyes on it, in a set of hazy, unprofessional photographs sent in through our Paris office some years before, I had been consumed by its mystery and beauty. And indeed, during the week prior to the sale, when potential buyers and the merely curious are invited to preview the furniture, I noticed the secretary working its magic on others, as well. As viewers tried to take in its nearly nine-foot façade, I heard words like sexy, beguiling, and enigmatic being used to describe it—words that might just as easily be used to describe a wife or lover. Quite simply, the piece seduced all who crossed its path.

  Bill Stahl, my friend and colleague, was conducting the sale from behind a raised corner podium that serves as the visual apex of the main auction room at Sotheby’s. I, as was usual at such sales, stood just a few feet to his right, behind a smaller podium, which was more centered on the dais. Bill, a large man with gray hair and a handsome, still-boyish face, lends a great presence to the auction room, for he exudes confidence without bravado. One of his more theatrical gestures involves cocking his head to one side as he softly recites incoming bids. Then, as the numbers begin to climax, he’ll start to move his head from side to side, as if he’s straining to catch the melody of a favorite old song playing somewhere beyond the room. However disarming, there is nothing casual about this movement. Bill is, in fact, deeply aware of the whereabouts of every player in the room and is actually focusing intently on each one. Invariably, he seems able to draw out an additional bid from those who are about to fold.

  I hoped I had what might be perceived as an easy, expectant smile on my face as I listened to Bill’s voice while scanning the packed auction room with nervous anticipation. In the past few days, I had fielded an unusually high number of calls from members of the press. All had been curious about my expectations for the secretary, and they were in attendance that day. I had ordered two hundred extra folding white chairs for the sale, to supplement the approximately one thousand seats that are usually set up in the high-ceilinged auction room, and now almost every one was filled. As was customary, the walls of the salesroom were lined with many of the larger pieces of furniture being sold that day, including a fair number of high chests of drawers and six secretary-book cases. This is done because the pieces are simply too heavy to be hoisted onto the revolving platform set behind me on the dais, where each item up for sale dramatically rotates into view during the bidding (just as quickly they rotate away when the bidding is over). At present, however, I could hardly see the furniture lining the room, because within the last few minutes, the aisles in front of them had visibly swollen with people. Clearly I was not the only one who was excited about the upcoming lot. The crowd was particularly thick in the back of the salesroom, where many dealers like to stand so they can get a good view of who’s bidding. There, the clients and spectators must have been packed nearly ten-deep.

  In fact, the only spot in the room that wasn’t jammed with people was the podium behind me. And it was there, to the right of the revolving display area, that the object of my (and everyone else’s) attention stood—the exquisite Newport secretary. That morning, I had asked the staging crew to redirect a number of the spotlights that hang from the rafters, so that they would shine directly onto the dark wooden façade of the piece, which dramatically accentuated its form. Light splashed across the closed slant lid of the desk section, or secretary (from which the piece gets its abbreviated name), and lengthened the almost-imperceptible shadows of the four drawers stacked below. The probing beams also brought into high relief the fluted scallop shells rigorously carved at the top of the upper section’s two doors. Like a pop star caught in the spotlight, the secretary’s form demanded attention, from the high spring of the arched dome top with its unusual trio of flame-twist finials to the magnificent mottled grain of the rare plum-pudding mahogany that activated the surface and gave it great character.

  Elaborate case pieces such as this secretary are among the priciest furniture ever crafted in the colonies, and they certainly evoke the wealth and sophistication of their original owners. Only the most learned of men had need for the many pigeonhole compartments and drawers that lay hidden behind the cabinet doors and desk lid, making it the Colonial era’s answer to a computer. During the week leading up to the sale, a number of visitors to Sotheby’s viewing galleries had speculated that this particular secretary might have been the most expensive piece ever made in eighteenth-century America. One reason for this theory was that its exquisitely crafted exterior was accented throughout with solid-silver hinges, drawer pulls, and elaborate bird-shaped lopers (the pull-out supports for a slant-front desktop) initialed by their maker, the Rhode Island silversmith Samuel Cascy. Until this secretary came to light, solid-silver hardware on a piece of Early American furniture was simply unheard of. It was an extravagance of such magnitude that few patrons could have so much as considered, let alone commissioned, such ornamentation.

  But it was not just its obvious good looks that made this secretary so compelling. There was perhaps a greater beauty (of the more mysterious sort) contained within its closed doors, drawers, and slant-top desk lid—a beauty to be savored by a fortunate few. Furthermore, what I had learned about this secretary’s long journey from the Newport cabinet shop where it was made to the small Right Bank apartment where it was found by a Parisian antiques dealer only added to its allure. And so, as this piece—without question, the most significant piece of American furniture ever offered for sale in Sotheby’s
255-year history—commanded the stage behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a tremendous awe in its towering, silent presence. It seemed to face the buzzing, fidgeting crowd with centuries-old wisdom and perspective. “I have $5,500—my bid is on the phone—and down it goes, all done for $5,500.” Bill Stahl’s voice boomed in my left ear, shaking me from my reverie. The New England bedstead spun out of sight, soon on its way to a new home, and the Newport secretary was next on the block.

  In the world of Americana, there is only a handful of top collectors capable of buying a piece of furniture of this secretary’s caliber. As objects go, such pieces are simply not for beginners. So as my eyes roamed the room at an ever-increasing pace, I took mental note of the few members of that elite cadre who were present: In the front row was Albert Sack, who, along with his brothers Harold and Robert, heads the venerable firm of Israel Sack, Inc., founded by their father in 1905. Albert is affectionately known in the business as the “Godfather of American antiques,” and he and his brothers are all great heroes of mine. Albert was the only one in attendance that day, however. A man of uncommonly good taste, he has advised, among other collectors, a certain billionaire client who paid $12.1 million for the legendary Nicholas Brown desk and bookcase when it sold at Chrisitie’s in 1989.

  I spotted the New England collectors Ted and Barbara Alfond about ten rows behind Albert. They have a marvelous collection of American furniture, particularly strong in Boston and Newport examples. I briefly focused on Bill Samaha, who was sitting about fifteen rows behind the Alfonds and all the way to the left. A Massachusetts—and Ohio—based dealer, Samaha often advises Ned Johnson, the chairman and owner of Fidelity Investments, who owns one of the largest collections of New England furniture in private hands, in addition to an extraordinary collection of Chinese furniture and porcelain. All week long, I had watched Samaha’s appreciation for the Newport secretary gain momentum. As a whole, this well-seasoned group looked eager, expectant, yet remarkably poker-faced.