Diversity Survival Mode

When I arrived in Paris in 1991 to enter ecole Boulle, I was introduced to many important craftsmen in the field of furniture making. They would ask me what I did for a living and I would mention that I did everything: restoration, conservation, creation, upholstery, weaving splint seats and rush seats, veneering and marquetry, turning, carving, polishing, making hardware, fixing locks and keys, replacing period glass, and so on, thinking that I was impressing them with my diverse talents.

I quickly learned that this approach was counter productive. The philosophy of craft in Europe is that you spend your life in one field. In fact, you should spend your life focusing on one aspect of that field, so that you can truly master the trade. You know the mantra: Jack of all trades, master of none.

So, I changed my introduction. If I was introduced to a carver, I said that I was a carver. If I was introduced to an upholsterer, that was my trade. And so it goes, to quote Vonnegut.

I did not start out to be a "furniture conservator in private practice" as my listing in the AIC directory states. I first started out as an upholsterer. That was because, in my neighborhood, there was an 85 year old upholsterer who moved here from New York and set up shop. I would visit and spend hours talking with him, watching him as he worked, methodically tying springs, stitching horsehair stuffing and spitting tacks. He was old, but his hands were strong and agile.

I thought, "I could do that." And so I did. It was very rewarding.

When customers asked me where they could get the wood repaired or refinished while the upholstery was changed, I said, "I can do it." I started to get more jobs, since I was able to do the complete project. My entire career has been successful because I am not afraid to take on jobs which require adapting and learning new methods. I should say, discovering old methods which are almost forgotten.

This typically American philosophy of craft has kept me in business during the past years, when others are closing up shop. I can adapt to whatever job walks in the door.

Currently, I am doing a lot of upholstery. I still find it interesting and rewarding. I am one of the last who spit tacks, tie springs by hand (8 knot Italian cord) and stitch horsehair.

The trade of upholstery took a wrong turn in the 1950's, when foam and staples became available. Hundreds of years of using organic materials were abandoned in favor of the new materials. Horsehair, Spanish moss, kapok, down feathers, cotton batting, excelsior, straw and other materials were removed from antique furniture and thrown out in the trash. Foam was added in place and, not only was the shape of the upholstery different but the comfort that those earlier materials provided was lost.

As it turned out, foam deteriorates rather quickly. Early foam from the 50's lasted about a decade. Later foam was improved and lasted several decades. Modern foam is supposed to last much longer, but will it? Horsehair lasts a century and more and still retains its shape.

Perhaps the most serious loss has been to the actual craft of upholsterer. Being an upholsterer in the 18th century was more prestigious than being a cabinet or chair maker. The trade of upholsterer included aspects of what we call today, interior designer. The upholsterer advised the client on fabric selection, bed "furniture", drapes and carpets and diverse textiles. All these materials were very expensive and the value of the actual upholstery on the chairs and sofas exceeded the value of the woodwork.

Upholstery is one of the few trades you can learn by undoing and studying antique examples. To restore upholstery means to take it apart, layer by layer, conserving the stuffing and springs, and replacing the jute webbing, cord, burlap and muslin with similar materials. Properly done this work can fully restore the original comfort and look of early seating furniture. As older, traditional upholsterers retire or die, this trade is in danger of becoming obsolete. The pieces which survive with their original foundation are rare and need to be properly conserved.

This week, if you ask me what I do for a living, I will respond: "I am an upholsterer."

It Always Takes Longer Than You Think

Some time ago (6 months!) I received an email from a new client in Chicago. They had found me on the internet and wanted to know if I could add some marquetry to kitchen cabinets in a house they were building. Not my usual kind of job, but, in this economy, you cannot say "no" to work.

I was asked to provide some rough design ideas, so I turned to Pierre Ramond's book, "Marquetry," always close at hand. There, on pages 57 and 58 I found some examples that fit the dimensions provided by the customer.

I worked out a price and time frame and we reached an agreement to begin work.

There were some assumptions which were made that turned out to create problems almost immediately.

One of the problems I created for myself was to include much more detail than necessary. It is hard to draw designs with simple elements, after years of trying to add detail wherever possible. Why draw a flower, for example, with 5 elements when you can draw a flower with 30? Leaves should have multiple parts so that they can be shaded. Every time I added a line with the pen I thought it looked better, but I didn't consider the added work required downstream to cut, shade and assemble that extra part.

Another part of the job that I forgot to address was that I needed to glue my designs down to their doors, which were already assembled and finished.

That created the biggest problem: matching the cherry color to the existing finish. The doors supplied were finished with modern stains and spray finish, that created a deep blue-red color to the cherry. The color was a combination of the stain layers and the hue of the lacquer.

Marquetry is not normally stained. Staining marquetry with different woods only hides the work. About the only type of color that can be added to marquetry comes from using potassium dichromate, or other chemicals, which react with the acidity in the different woods, turning some woods dark and leaving others alone. For example, when boxwood or holly is inlaid in mahogany, you can use potassium dichromate to darken the mahogany without darkening the inlay.

We tried the potassium on the cherry, and it darkened it, but it was brown and not the blue-red we needed. So we built a waterproof box, bought an aquarium heater (large size!) and took all the cherry we needed for the project and started soaking it in a series of stains. Using various organic materials in the water, we were able to change the color of the cherry over time. In this case it took nearly a month of work to get it right.

After soaking, we needed to dry out the cherry and press it flat, which took several weeks of pressing and repressing, changing the paper frequently. More time lost.

All the projects were too large to cut on the chevalet, so we needed to cut most of the work on the overhead saw. Of course, that takes more time than the chevalet, so again we fell behind.

All the elements were placed in hot sand to create shadows, and, again, having more complex designs than necessary, that took longer than predicted. There were a total of 8 large panels.

Throughout all this delay the client was patient and understanding, fortunately. Instead of 3 months it took 6. The completed project was shipped out last week, and I expect that with the addition of the finish the cherry will be very close to the rest of the kitchen.

Moral: no matter how long you have been doing something in your career, always consider what can go wrong and, as the saying goes: PLAN AHED!

Memories of an Antique Dealer

I have often written in this blog about what I have been doing for the past 4 decades. When I get a call from an old client who mentions their name, I am often at a loss to put a face to the name. I usually ask what was the project or what was the piece I worked on, and then it often comes back to me. Sad to say that I remember the piece better than the person, but it's true.

Recently, I received an email:

Dear Pat:

I hope I have the right person, the Pat Edwards that used to operate an antique furniture refinishing business in the Adams Avenue area. If so, I want to thank you for my purchase of a Hoosier type kitchen cabinet from you in 1971-1972. My husband and I had just moved into a 1906 Craftsman home in old downtown La Mesa and we broke our bank to buy a Hoosier you had just refinished. We spent $125 and it seemed like so much to us (well, it was!!)

Over the years I bought, scrounged, refinished and often sold antique furniture, but never did I come across a better one than the one I bought from you, and thus I still have it and enjoy it every day.

We moved from La Mesa to an 1896 Victorian in Lemon Grove and the Hoosier was in the old kitchen there for 34 years. In 2007 we built a log home and moved to Hayfork (yes, Hayfork) in Northern CA and put the Hoosier front and center in our log home. Recently I bought an older pie safe and had to squeeze the Hoosier a little, but it remains my star piece.

I have often wanted to thank you again, so here it is! By the way, what was the name of your shop? And, do you have a similar business today?

Attached to this email were several nice photos of an old oak Hoosier kitchen cabinet. When I saw them, I was transported to a barn in Kansas in 1971. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. I had a few hundred dollars in cash and a pick up truck with a lumber rack and a tarp. The barn was full of oak furniture. Square and round tables, sets of press back chairs, treadle sewing machines, and kitchen tables and hoosier cabinets.

The "dealer" was the farmer, who invited me to dinner and fed me fresh corn and a steak. I bought several items, loaded them on the truck and moved on down the road. One of these items was a Hoosier which was nearly complete. Often these old kitchen cabinets lost their "guts" which included a wide variety of attachments to make the cook happy. Owning a good Hoosier meant that the person working in the kitchen had a central location for almost all the tools of the trade. Using a Hoosier along with a kitchen work table was essential for all small farm homes to efficiently prepare the meals.

This Hoosier had everything, including stained glass windows. It only needed refinishing...I can't remember if it was painted white, as most of them were, but I do remember refinishing it. See the next blog entry for me using methylene chloride at that time, since it was the only way I knew to do things.

I also remember repairing the tambour roll, which ended up working nicely. I was also pleased that the pull out enamel surface was not badly chipped.

In any event, I transported it 1500 miles home, refinished it and put in in my little shop with a price tag of $125. I assume that included a profit, but for the life of me I find that hard to believe.

I do remember at that time another client walking into the shop and asking about a nice oak roll top desk I had for sale. When she asked about the price I said "Three fifty." She pulled out a five dollar bill and expected change!

In any event, I am pleased to hear that some of the things I have worked on have been important to the people who supported me. Gosh, when I think of all the antiques I have taken apart, restored, conserved, upholstered, finished, or sold over the years...each of them is important to the owner and represents an important possession in their life.

I am happy to have been of service.

Stripping Patina?

I shudder to think about the way I approached refinishing furniture when I started over 40 years ago. First of all, I was young, impatient and considered myself indestructible. I was never sick, and could work all day and night, every day of the year. I was never tired and always excited to see what kind of wood was hiding under the disgusting old finish.

I consumed gallons of paint stripper, and went out of my way to use the stripper with the most methylene chloride content. It was more expensive, but, oh boy! did it work! Put the stripper on the surface and watch the dark years of dirt and finish wash away.

I was not too concerned about my exposure to the chemical. After all, I always worked outside in the shade with a cross wind and wore heavy rubber gloves. I really did not concern myself with a respirator, since it was always in the way, and I usually worked up a sweat. Comfort was important.

From time to time, I would get spots of stripper on my arms or face. Once even I got it in my eye. I would just turn the hose on myself and wash it off while I continued to work.

After about 10 years of this kind of activity, I started to notice problems. In fact it was my wife who would look at me when I returned home and say "I see you stripped furniture today." She could see the gray color of my skin and the confusion in my eyes. Methylene chloride had beaten me, and I started to question my whole relationship with the chemical. I began to research the material to find out what was going on.

I discovered that the chemical industry had a very effective and strong lobby in Washington to protect the use and distribution of methylene chloride. It was the most effective chemical to remove paint, and, for example, when you have to remove tons of paint from airplanes or ships you do not have a lot of alternative choices.

My good friend, Michael Dresdner (finishing expert), adds: "Futhermore, it's used in a host of other manufacturing operations, including as an aerosol propellant, a plastic welder, a blowing agent for urethane foams, a degreaser in electronics manufacture, and to decaffeinate coffee, tea and create flavoring and hops extracts. One of the more interesting marginal uses is in those bobbing glass gooney birds who would tip over until their beak went into a glass of water, then bob up straight until the water on their beak evaporated and the head started tipping down again."

Just a bit of chemistry here to explain what happens when you put stripper on a finish. The chemical molecule of methylene chloride is very tiny. So tiny that it sinks down through almost all finishes and quickly attacks the finish bond at the surface of the wood. This causes the finish to blister and fall off the surface.

However, since the molecule is so tiny, it easily passes through almost all other materials, from heavy rubber gloves, to protective clothes and skin. It quickly enters the blood and creates stress in most of the important organs, like the liver, heart and brain. My experience with it indicates that the body gradually becomes more sensitive to exposure, so that when I started using it, I had little reaction, but after a decade of use I would notice a strong reaction almost immediately upon opening the can. There are some reports of older people who experienced heart attacks while refinishing kitchen cabinets, for example, and did not connect the attack with the exposure to the chemical.

Certainly the most dramatic accident relating to furniture refinishers I know of occurred just a few blocks from my shop last year. A elderly woman hired some workers to refinish the wood trim in her historic craftsman home. These guys put flammable stripper on all the wood work in the house, without opening the doors or windows. Just as the woman was rushing out the back door to avoid the odor, the water heater kicked in and ignited the fumes, exploding the home and instantly destroying it. I saw the smoke and flames from my shop and rushed over to see what was happening. There were dozens of paint stripper cans in the front yard, and I tried to make a sick joke with the fireman who were fighting the fire, "I hope it wasn't the stripper!" I said. He just looked at me, and I knew.

If you must use methylene chloride, contact an industrial safety supply company, like Lab Safety. They will direct you to the proper gloves, suit, shoes, mask and breathing protection which will be necessary. For example, the chemical penetrates my old heavy rubber gloves in 6 minutes. The proper clothing can provide complete protection for many hours. Very important.

One problem with methylene chloride is that it completely removes all finish, color and patina. The color, stains and dyes are removed and you must start over to make it look "old". Not a good thing for fine antiques. I wanted to find another way to remove the finish, so I started to test other methods, which lead me to focus on denatured alcohol.

Denatured alcohol is a larger molecule than methylene chloride and can easily be used with minor protection. It is also a solvent for shellac and will dissolve other finishes given enough time. The problem is that it quickly evaporates, and I work in Southern California, where the climate is hot and dry most of the year.

I found a system which works wonderfully, is quick and easy and doesn't remove the patina from the wood. Since the wood grain is not raised, it doesn't require sanding, except in rare cases. I use paper towels, denatured alcohol, plastic food wrap and green scrubbing pads. I place the paper towels on the surface, add a lot of alcohol, cover the towels quickly with plastic wrap, smooth out the bubbles, and wait.

After 10 minutes or so, depending on the finish, I remove the covering and use more alcohol and scrubbing pads to wipe off the surface finish, leaving clean old wood. If required, I can repeat the process to remove stubborn finishes. Never use steel wool; only plastic pads. Steel wool can cause black spots, and scratch fine wood surfaces.

I have used this method to great success on evaporative finishes and those oil finishes made with alcohol soluble resins. Alcohol will not remove most cross linked finishes, such as chemical or UV cured urethanes, ureas, polyesters, and acrylics, nor will it remove most epoxy finishes, but all those finishes should never be applied to genuine antique surfaces.

I have used this method to get great results for many, many years, and I have no desire to open another can of methylene chloride ever again.

Restoring Boulle

One of the most rewarding and frustrating projects I have done over the years is restoring Boulle furniture. By common usage, the term "Boulle" refers to the furniture which is made with brass and tortoise shell marquetry, generally from the last quarter of the 19th century, in Paris.

This period, referred to as Napoleon III, represented a revival of the technique of marquetry popular during the period of Louis XIV, when Andre-Charles Boulle was the most important ebeniste in France. Of course, the early work by Boulle and his contemporaries was made with a much higher degree of quality and workmanship. In fact, the type of tortoise shell used during that time was from a different sea turtle, which was a meat eater, and produced a much thicker shell. The thicker shell was perfect to match with the thicker sawn veneers available at that time.

The shell used during the Napoleon III period was from a sea turtle which was a vegetarian, and the shell was much thinner, also a good match for veneers used later in the 19th century, produced by slicing machines.

The term "tortoise" shell is confusing, since a tortoise lives on land and a turtle lives in the ocean, but that is the term which has always been used for this method. C'est la vie.

After determining which species of shell is used, it is necessary to select the appropriate shell for restoration from a turtle of the same age. Turtles live a long life, and the young turtles have very dark pigment in the shell which forms large areas of color, contrasting with the naturally clear background. As the turtle ages, these blobs of color spread out and become rays of dark, turning into spots of color in very old turtles.

Of course, sea turtles have been on the endangered species list since 1986 and are a controlled substance, so only the restorers who have old stock (and can prove it) have access to this material. I personally have about a kilo of shell, of both species, which I purchased legally prior to the ban, and I use it for appropriate restoration projects.

Another source of shell is damaged furniture, but in that case only very small pieces can be salvaged. There is a plastic shell substitute, used in the guitar industry that works, and there is a substitute shell made using protein glues and coloring, a recipe that first appeared in the 18th century and, more recently, was perfected by Don Williams, working at the Smithsonian.

The other material, brass, is common, but must be annealed so that it is soft. It is hard to do that in a small shop, since it is best done in a large oven, where the sheet is evenly heated and allowed to cool naturally.

Almost all Boulle furniture is damaged by workers who do not understand what to do, and usually resort to nails or epoxy or plastic filler to repair the surface. These efforts make the proper restoration difficult. It is essential to understand that the traditional adhesive, fish glue, is the only adhesive that should be used to restore Boulle. Attaching brass to wood is difficult, since under environmental changes, the wood and brass move in opposite directions. This constant tension between the marquetry and the substrate is controlled by the properties of fish glue, which allows a small amount of sheer movement during these fluctuations, while keeping the surface stuck in place. Fish glue is used for tortoise shell, brass, pewter, mother-of-pearl, ivory, bone, horn and other exotic materials which do not move in the same manner as wood veneer.

The other problem with brass is corrosion, which attacks the brass when the finish fails. I have restored Boulle furniture which lived in Hawaii, and I can attest to the problems of salt air on brass. Not a pretty sight.

The third part of the surface is the mastic, which is composed of protein glue and wood dust. This mastic is around all the elements, filling the gap where the saw blade cut away the materials. This mastic is easily softened in cold water, and can be carefully removed using dental tools. It is often necessary to remove the mastic to repair the surface, and replace the mastic after the repair is completed. Unlike wood surfaces, it is fine to apply the mastic from the front surface, since neither brass or shell is porous.

In most cases, I look at the surface and decide if it is easier to remove the brass or remove the shell to restore the damage. The brass is often lifted, bent and distorted, and it is easier to remove the entire element to repair it before gluing it back in place. Missing brass elements will need to be engraved after the repair is completed to match the surface design.

The shell is prepared by boiling in hot sea water for some time to soften it. Then it can be scraped flat on both sides and shaped to the contour of the surface. It is glued with fish glue, colored with red or brown pigment, as necessary, and placed over red or brown Japanese paper to produce the proper color. In some cases, gold leaf is placed under the shell to produce a very exotic look.

To repair and remove the surface requires care and attention. Paper towels are placed on the surface and covered with cold, distilled water. On top of this a plastic film is placed and the worker waits patiently. After a short time the mastic will begin to soften and the water and towels are removed. Now the repair can begin. More detail on this process is found in my 1997 AIC paper, "Current Trends in Conservation of Marquetry Surfaces", which can be found on my Consulting page of my website.

In most cases, the cost of restoration of Boulle furniture which has been badly treated greatly exceeds the value of the piece. It is only for sentimental reasons or pride of accomplishment that these projects are usually attempted. It is a challenge, to be sure, and one of the guaranteed parts of the project is that, once the initial repair is completed, new areas of lifting will appear somewhere else.

Only after all the elements are properly glued in place can the polishing begin.

The Picking Machine

The history of French inventions is full of objects which Americans believe were invented here. Unfortunately for our culture, Americans are an ego-centric animal who believe all thought and ideas begin and end within our borders. I am sure, if you asked people walking down the street, who invented flight, cinema, photography, bicycles, submarines and the Xerox machine, the clear majority would respond: "USA!"

It is easy to click on google and discover pages and pages of inventions which came from France. I just discovered, for example, that the taxi was invented in 1640, in France. Amazing!

Add to this list the concept of the duplicating machine, normally referred to by its American corporate name: Xerox. It was created in France to solve a difficult problem which was essential for the evolution of the craft of marquetry.

Before Louis XIV, all the historical methods used to create decorative surfaces were developed in the Mediterranean Sea, from Egypt to Italy. The most interesting at that time was cutting several materials in a packet, using a fret saw held at a perpendicular angle, so that all the elements and background were cut simultaneously. This method was called "tarsia a incastro" by the Italians and renamed "Boulle" by the French.

However, Louis XIV and his successors wanted to elevate the craft of marquetry to another, more complicated level, and keep the secrets of that trade all to themselves. They devoted money and time to all the trades, from furniture making to tapestries, from sculpture to architecture, to insure that France would be the most highly sophisticated country in Europe during the 18th century. And they succeeded.

The primary problem with Boulle method is that the drawing is placed on the packet and cut along with the material. Therefore, the drawing is destroyed in the process. Of course, no matter how carefully you were, it was impossible to exactly duplicate the design by hand. A method of making exactly precise copies of the drawing was needed.

The inspiration was provided by the traditional Fresco painters, who used a piece of paper punched with holes to transfer the design to the wet plaster. By placing the paper on the surface and pouncing a colored powder over it, the dots of the design would remain for the artists to use as a guide. The idea was simple; the transfer of that method to woodworking was more complicated.

At first, paper was picked by hand, in a laborious process that must have driven artisans to drink. It is not recorded when the picking machine first appeared, but by the 19th century they were manufactured in French workshops and sold in supply houses for the trade. I have three antique machines in my shop, made in Paris and Lyon. I have a fourth machine, made in 1980's in Paris for Dr. Ramond at ecole Boulle, which is driven by a motor.

All the antique machines use a foot pedal to turn a large drive wheel in the lower cabinet. The cable which travels up through the hollow brass tube transmits this energy to a series of gears, which adjust the speed, and on down the front tube to a small crankshaft in a box near the end. This crankshaft converts the continuous rotary motion to reciprocal motion, which is connected to the needle shaft, making it move up and down very nicely.

The needle has a stop which can be adjusted so that it moves only slightly. The needle is a "number 12 sharp" which is very hard to find. It must be adjusted to that it only passes through three layers of paper, no further or it will hit the table and damage the tip.

The design, which is hand drawn, is pinned to two layers of Kraft paper, 48 grams weight. The needle is traced around the entire design, punching holes through all layers of paper. It is important that all the lines are traced, and no duplicate lines are punched. The spacing of the holes is important: too close and the paper will tear, too far apart and it will not serve the job.

When the design is fully punched, the middle layer of paper is removed and the back side is abraded with a pumice stone to clean up the paper tear out around the holes. This piece of paper becomes the master design, which will remain in the shop for decades, and can be used over and over.

The master design is then placed over some white Kraft paper and a pounce is used to apply "bitume de judee" which is a fine, oil impregnated dust. The bitumen leaves a dot of power at each hold, and it is necessary to fix the powder to the paper to make the design useable. The paper is placed across a heated piece of metal and the heat melts the powder to the paper. Thus the essential idea of a Xerox machine.

Using a picking machine allows the worker to make dozens of copies of the original drawing, each design exactly like the other. The use of a picking machine along with the creation of the chevalet allowed the French to perfect the "piece by piece" method of marquetry, which has many advantages over all the other methods. This method they kept to themselves for almost two centuries.

When Is An Antique Fake?

In a few weeks I will be presenting my annual lecture at the University of California at Irvine, in association with senior ASA appraiser, Nancy Martin. We have done this for several years, and the goal is to assist aspiring appraisers in analyzing antiques for condition and authenticity.

I take a truck full of pieces and parts to point out details that make the forensics of furniture fraud into a practical science. Wood analysis, hardware evidence, style, form and function, historical periods and revivalism, popularity of fakes during different eras, and, most importantly, the tool marks left by the process of fabrication all must be considered when deciding how old something actually is.

The economics of fraud play an important factor in the popularity of fakes. If something takes a lot of work and skill to make, and the market does not support the value of the original then it is not likely someone will make a copy and try to pass it off as antique. On the other hand, anything which is made as a copy or a fake will, technically, become "antique" after a century of life.

This is one of the problems with the term "antique". Back in 1800, if you look in a dictionary from that period, "antique" refers to an object of great antiquity. In other words, Greek and Roman objects were considered "antique" to the leaders of the French and American revolutions. During the Victorian period, which lasted over 60 years, the revivalism of earlier styles and fashion changed the concept of antique to include objects made during the previous century.

This idea that something over 100 years old was antique was common, and allowed rich men like Frick, Hearst, Mellon, and their Robber Baron buddies to import tons of stuff from Europe tax free, claiming it was antique. I still think of my son, at the age of 8, standing at the front of the tour at Hearst castle, raising his hand to ask the guide a simple question: "My dad says there are no antiques here." Actually not a question, and certainly not the question I would have proposed. I spent the rest of the tour avoiding eye contact with him.

By 1930 the government stepped in and the Hawley-Smoot tariff act included a definition of antique as "made before 1830". This was intended to reflect the fact that pre-Victorian objects were generally made by hand, and had a higher value than those made later, during the Industrial Revolution. This definition is the one I grew up with.

In November, 1966, President Johnson signed a law which included a change in this definition, designed to reflect the antique dealer's lobbying efforts, and reinstated the 100 year old description. Overnight all the stuff made between 1830 and 1866 became valuable. Tiffany and Belter pieces which had been donated to thrift stores now commanded incredible prices.

More importantly, collectors could anticipate that investing in objects which will "mature" into antiques soon is possible, so people began looking at Stickley and Craftsman furniture as a good purchase.

At the same time, a fake made over 100 years ago is technically "antique" and that creates the problem. Unlike fake money, fake antiques are rarely if ever destroyed. They continue to live in the market place and confuse the consumer. So, "When is an Antique Fake?" has become the title of one of my most popular talks.

I post a picture of two candlestands. One is a fake, made in Italy, designed to look old. The second is a copy of that fake, made last week by a carver in my shop. I added the "patina" and color to match the first. So, we have two objects, a fake which is "antique" by age alone, and a copy which will be "antique" in 2111. Guaranteed.

Always keep your eyes open!