One of my favorite things about antique furniture is the hardware. I don't often post shots of our pulls, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. Enjoy!
I was in for a surprise this week while unwrapping one of our recent arrivals, a lovely flame mahogany credenza. Although the furniture produced by our third-generation English cabinetmaker is always high quality, the character of each piece is unique because every one is handmade. This time we received a real gem. Enjoy the pictures.
The selection of flame mahogany and satinwood are really quite beautiful in this piece. The stain and the finish both set into the wood flawlessly to produce one of the lovelier specimens here at English Classics.
One of the great things about fine English furniture is that it achieves the perfect synthesis of utility and aesthetic perfection.
I wouldn't want you to miss the back, so here it is—no detail was lost on our cabinetmaker.
This shot of the hand-cut dovetails also happens to showcase the gorgeous grain and complexion of the wood.
The ogee foot is probably my favorite variety, and in this picture at least I hope it is clear why.
Recently I wrote about our May furniture container, and one of the items I featured in that post was a carved Victorian sideboard. This is really such a beautiful piece that I wanted to share some of the detailed photos that we have of it. Enjoy!
The black areas in the backsplash are mirrors.
Take a look at the lion in the center. He looks absolutely shocked. Somewhere, a lion died of old age and woke up in Victorian England as a carving in somebody's sideboard. Not the afterlife he was expecting. Surprise!—you're furniture.
When I first saw this guy, I thought he was a pregnant woman until I saw the beard. For a moment I considered Victorian carnies and bearded ladies, but after banishing that thought, I realized that the representation here is in a classical style, where depictions of men and women are often androgynous.
Here is the little man's female opposite. They are both holding a cylindrical object, the man with his left hand, the woman with her right, but I haven't been able to figure out what it is supposed to represent. I'm sure it was a common and recognizable motif to Victorians.
The surprising thing about these cherubs is the remarkable level of detail shown in their faces. They sure are cute little pudgy things. (In case you're wondering why I don't call them puttos, see my post, "Putto or Cherub?".)
I believe that these pulls are original to the sideboard, which is fairly uncommon for a piece of this age. Incredibly, the pulls show almost as much precise detail as the wood itself.
