He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed. (Albert Einstein)
How does one live the good life? This age-old question has no single definitive answer. But collectors of American antiques would respond, “Collecting, of course.” Here I explore a feeling and experience that contributes to these collectors’ good lives- awe.
Awe varies from person to person, so what one collector finds awe-inspiring another may not. Typically, when people are awe struck, they say that things are larger, brighter, more dangerous, louder than they had ever imagined they could be (and the list can surely be added to), and the (awe inspiring) encounter took them aback: we were “awed,” agape, baffled, frightened. Awe implies a deep feeling of reverence, for our purposes for the American antique being viewed, touched, and felt.
A dealer posts a photo of a pair of wonderful Windsor chairs on social media. One collector comments: “I am in awe.” The chairs are more than astounding, amazing, breathtaking, or stunning than he imagined they might or could be. The collector is experiencing something baffling, perhaps beyond what mere language can capture.
In many cases we have the possibility of awe hardwired into our brains. Being awed is an experience and emotion in the face of mysteries. It is the abyss between everyday experience and expectation, what I call brushes with the heavens. To the collector viewing the Windsor chairs, they truly were heaven-sent. This happened to a dealer I know once. When he first saw a New York State paint decorated blanket chest in a collector’s home some years ago, it had a beam of sunlight lighting up the front panel within a darkened room. The drama of the chest stunned him, and quite literally took his breath away. The colors, the composition, the earliness…. a masterpiece and his response, one of quiet reverence and awe.
Awe transforms the collector or dealer. In the presence of that antique everyday quibbles disappear, and The Awed (if I may use such a term) realizes he or she is in the presence of something special in life. Their up-to-then understanding of antiques is erased, distorted, or expanded. Awe supersedes the simple appreciation and apprehension of beauty. The collector recognizes that he is now part of something larger than himself. He may feel small and insignificant in the presence of this antique and experience moments of inner peace.
I look at a Thomas Chambers’ 1840 painting, “A View of the Hudson from West Point.” If you have ever seen the view in person, it is a treasure to behold, nature limned at its best. Chambers, of whom little is known but much is conjectured has been “discovered.” Any painting almost 200 years old in wonderful condition is awe-inspiring to me. I then look at a DeGrailly painting of the same scene painted 10 years later. Again, a work in marvelous condition, painted by a more formally trained artist. Both painters captured this scene and painted it because they were captivated by it, and certainly the scene resonated with those who bought paintings so long ago, just as both resonate with me today.
How does one describe the feeling? Almost two centuries after someone looked at each of these works of art and wanted it in his home, I reached the same conclusion. Something about these two pictures captured an undefined, unmeasured depth that I had unconsciously within me. The two painters stroked not only my feeling but a sense that what they had done exceeded mere skill. We casually use the word “art” but we tend to forget that through history the term has variously been associated with the divine, the magical and the inspired. When an object reaches those levels, awe is the result, rare as it may be.
Awe is an intense emotional experience typically elicited by encountering something vast, beautiful, or extraordinary. Our ordinary expectations are thrown out, our experience is expanded, our expectations both confounded and exceeded. Thus, natural phenomena are one such trigger – the power of mother nature through a storm, volcano, or blizzard; a sky full of stars; or the unexpected grandeur of the Hudson. We may be humbled by the realization of how small we are amid such a vast environment, connected to our ancestors from ages ago, and removed for the moment from the world in which we live.
Awe also can be triggered by artistic creations of a different sort. I think of Beethoven’s 9th symphony, in and of itself a tour de force but even more awe inspiring when one realizes he composed the opus while deaf. Genius at work. The Mona Lisa to most who view her is awe-inspiring, and certainly Michelangelo’s David is another example. To many it is impossible that something so beautiful had been created by an artist’s hands.
Any collector of American antiques knows that when in the presence of an exceptional craftsman’s work, a feeling of awe often accompanies the experience – its beauty, its timelessness, the skill it took to create it (whether in its simplicity or not). The fact that it survived so long given its fragility, rarity, or circumstances of war may contribute to the feeling. “It cannot be so.”
Two dealers are making a house call to a 17th century Connecticut home. They have been there before but never allowed upstairs. After many years they head up to the 2nd floor and attic. In the latter they find 300 years of objects. One of them discovers and uncovers a remarkable Queen Anne/William and Mary armchair, all original including the leather (cracked), with ramshorn arms. They are speechless. The piece is breathtaking. It is amazing that it has survived, and it is the best of the best with 300 years of family history as provenance. I believe a Buddhist might say that it the chair decided to reenter the world after all this time.
Long standing collectors were in awe of an 18th century Pennsylvania schrank that far exceeded their criteria for possession: the decoration spoke more loudly than the piece itself. They were overwhelmed by the nearly pristine original painted surface, its massive size, original bun feet and rat tail hinges. The schrank, the centerpiece of the couple’s collection, remained in the dining room of their 19th century farmhouse for more than 20 years. As one of the finest extant and intact examples of 18th century Pennsylvania furniture, the schrank was donated to Winterthur Museum where it evokes reverence to this day.
Why is awe so important to collectors and dealers? Because they, like everyone else, have a need to be reminded from time to time of their place in the universe, their insignificance, and of mysteries that can never be explained. Collecting provides such experiences.
Dealers hope to educate collectors, to lead them to appreciate certain genres and to share the dealers’ reverence for a marvelous piece. Reading once again Fruend’s Objects of Desire (The Lives of Antiques and Those Who Pursue Them) I took away the same feeling of awe for the robin’s egg blue Queen Anne blanket chest – plain to the point of never even having brasses – that the author feels for it. Its simple lines approach perfection, and its condition lacks any signs of material culture. It has stood in someone’s bedroom or living room for 270 years. To the author and anyone who agrees with him, all of this is simply awe-inspiring.
I once asked a dealer friend why another dealer, whom I shall leave nameless, was so successful. I was told it was, in part, because he had a wonderful eye and a deep knowledge of American antiques. He could describe why a certain chair or painting was so very special when others might simply see one antique out of many. In thinking back to this conversation, I believe now that he holds certain antiques in reverence and is successful in educating collectors why these pieces do or should inspire awe.
I hypothesize that awe is a major reason why many collectors cherish silver crafted by Paul Revere. There were better silversmiths I am told, but none who are such an integral part of the story and myths of the American revolution. He is immortalized in Longfellow’s poem of his midnight ride of 1775. To hold a piece of silver he crafted, the “man” who helped the American revolution succeed, is indeed awe-inspiring. Keltner in his book Awe, calls this a WHOA moment, an apt description indeed, (though when used in conjunction with Paul Revere verging on a pun).
Finding awe in their collecting may have a profound effect on collectors of American antiques. For awe expands collectors’ perspectives, encouraging them to revel in the feelings of joy of transcendence of these experiences. They may appreciate their lives more and take less for granted. Being in the presence of awe-inspiring antiques may encourage collectors’ curiosity and search for knowledge. They may be inspired and think of their collection and hobby in new and different ways. We are back to where we began with Einstein’s observation.
Briefly stated, experiencing awe enriches collectors’ lives as they feel alive be in wonderment and their WHOA moments. There is something awe inspiring in a Nobel prize winner in physics (but not for his theory of relativity) and one of the greatest scientists to ever live who looked at the world with reverence and wonder. Even more unexpected and perhaps awe inspiring is that he is role model for us all in attending to the mysteries of existence and our world, even the universe of American antiques. Collect with your eyes open.
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