FUTURE ANTIQUES

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 185, 26 October 1927, Page 7

FUTURE ANTIQUES

THE MODERN DESIGNER’S ART PERIOD FURNITURE THAT IS HONEST AT THE PRESENT TIME there is a great deal of furniture about which is, to say the least, dishonest. An aura of insincerity clings to our pscudoTudor cupboards, Queen Anne chairs, and eighteenth-century sideboards. To the sensitive, they are not even beautiful. He was a wise poet who pointed out that “beauty is truth, truth beauty”; these two virtues are synonymous- I —they cannot exist apart. Reproductions of period furniture, however carefully and cleverly made, are spiritually worthless; they arc unconvincing because they are entirely lacking in sincerity. They belong neither to this age nor to the age which they are supposed to represent. They are just unhappy shams brought into being because a few decades ago we discovered the charms of antique oak, walnut, and mahogany.

When the rage for “old stuff” developed into hysteria, it was hardly surprising that the country was literally flooded with the pieces we so fervently longed to possess. If half the Tudor refractory tables in the country are genuine, then practically every man who lived in sixteenth-century England must have been a carpenter and craftsman; even Shakespeare and Bacon, Raleigh and Philip Sidney must have made tables in their spare time—in no other way can such a vast accumulation be accounted for! To love old things is excellent for the soul; to make a fetish of them is to lose one’s capacity for self-expression—to suffer from an ingrowing sense of values.

Now, little by little, the hysteria is passing; the “antiques” problem is solving itself, says an article in “Town and Country Homes.” Men and women of taste, realising that genuinely old furniture is far, far beyond their means, are turning their attention to the modern craftsmen and the fine furniture which they are turning out. And assuredly these craftsmen are not suffering from a lack of self-expression. They must be credited with one really great achievement; they are making furniture with a twentieth-century personality—furniture which sincerely expresses our modest ideals and trend of thought. And because we are beginning to see that this furniture harmonises with the present scheme of things —is, in fact, actually part of them—it is gradually becoming more and more popular and widely known. Designers have sensed the spirit of the age. They have realised that underneath the tempestuous scurrying of modern life lies a deep yearning for tranquillity and strength and simplicity. And these qualities they have brought out in their furniture

Eyes tired by the kaleidoscope of every day have no use for a house full of unmeaning ornaments, and unnecessary swags and swords, frills and furbelows; they want to come to rest upon articles which soothe by their simple shapeliness. Never lias “line” been of greater importance than it is to-day. In the often servantless home of 1927 life is too short and altogether too difficult to cope with elaborate furniture and household gods. The woman of to-day, with her shingled head and her frock that is as simple as a Greek tunic, wants a home and furnishings which will, in essentials, harmonise with her own

sartorial simplicity and common scuse. She wants something which is at once useful and beautiful; she insists that these two qualities go together—neither of them alone quite fills the bill. The best modern designers, though they are working upon entirely new’ designs and ideas, ha\e gone hack to the old ideals. They rely for their effects upon dignity of line, and the simple loveliness of the natural wood. And they bank, too, upon honourable craftsmanship. Their honest tables and chairs and cabinets have a long life ahead of them in which to mellow and mature, and to gain the love w’hich is the birthright of all things which are sincerely beautiful. It is not an extravagant suggestion to make that the best furniture of to-day will be the “antiques” of to-morrow, widely sought by collectors.

The natural charm of wood i s coming into its own; nowadays no reputable craftsman dreams of daubing his furniture with a mess of stain and varnish, murmuring apologetically the while, “Well, it’s only wood . . .” One might almost say that the only decoration allowed these new chairs and tables is the decoration supplied by their own fascinating grain and colour. Treated with a little oil. or a small amount of wax, and after that dry polished, there is nothing to detract from the amazing loveliness of natural or walnut, yew or mahogany, ash or the fruit woods. An extremely interesting bedroom suite is made from English burr walnut inlaid with a narrow frame of yew and ebony. The warm hue of the walnut, with its softly blurred, almost moire grain, lightened by glint s of gold, is in perfect harmony with the cleantoned yew varying in colour from rich golden orange to cool ivory. This suite, like a fine print, is limited to a certain number of copies (in this case 20) and it is destined to live. Equally beautiful, though in a still simpler fashion, is the modern oak furniture. Here, again, you are allowed to enjoy the full beauty of the timber —and oak. when not “embellished” by fuming and staining, is exquisite stuff. It looks so strong and hardy, so plain and good, so typically English. Its pale gold surface, just a little rough to the touch—wrinkled, as , it were, by the cares of an upright life and the stress of a thousand j?ales — makes you think of sunlight shimmering through an English wood. There can be little doubt that here you have true “period” furniture—furniture which is honest.