This is certainly the original finish on this circa 1830 drawer front. Do you find it attractive?

Don’t touch that original finish! That mantra of the very high-end antique furniture market has been drummed into the collecting public psyche to the point that most people, expert or novice, are now afraid to take any steps toward restoration of a piece of furniture for fear of incurring a major financial loss in case the piece later turns out to be a priceless rarity. Appraisers now put a very high premium on an original finish, or at least what they think is an original finish.

This chest of drawers with mirror is from the mid 1910s. It has the original hand-applied shellac finish that has now oxidized and obscures the mahogany beneath. It is original but is it pretty?

This chest of drawers with mirror is from the mid 1910s. It has the original hand-applied shellac finish that has now oxidized and obscures the mahogany beneath. It is original but is it pretty?

That mindset certainly has its proper place in the rarefied atmosphere where 200- or 300-year-old treasures are being traded for amounts of money that would run many small towns for a year or so. The difference between a $2.5 million 18th-century mahogany game table in untouched original finish and the same table that was refinished 30 or 40 years ago is more than most of us will ever see in a lifetime. But does that same thinking apply to the 1940s dining room set available at auction for $500?

This elegant turn-of-the-century quarter-sawn oak china cabinet certainly benefited from refinishing.

Only in the last few thousand years or so has some type of finish been applied to more expensive or esoteric wooden objects. Before that, wood just rotted away in its own good time. The original purpose of putting something on wood was to protect it; protect it primarily from its worst enemy—moisture—but also to protect it from abrasion and wear. Moisture, of course, makes wood expand and contract, which is inherently hurtful to a device or ornament designed for a specific function in a given place. Moisture also encourages wood destroying organisms like termites and beetles to help themselves to a decaying organic feast
A byproduct of the original finish function, protection, was that wood, when treated with some type of finish, actually was more pleasing to look at than plain old dry timber. Beauty became a part of the finishing matrix. Enhanced grain patterns and color resulting from adequate finishes became important considerations in assessing wood objects.

Over time, as the human environment moved to the more controlled atmosphere of interior space, the beautification function became at least as important as the protection function. While many 300-year-old, carefully preserved finishes are outstandingly beautiful, those less well-preserved are not so lovely. And in a significantly shorter period of time than 300 years, some finishes get to be absolutely horrible. Should they still be preserved simply because they are original?

A less-than-attractive finish on almost anything other than a certifiable treasure will invariably lower the value of the object. Why? Because the value of more recent items of furniture lies in the utilitarian function of the piece, rather than in its history and scarcity. There are only a very few Thomas Seymour and Charles Honore Lannuier pieces out there. Those 18th-and early 19th-century masters of American cabinetry just didn’t make that many objects, and those that survive are and should be treasured and preserved in as original condition as humanly possible.

But is the deteriorating, blackened shellac finish on a factory made piano stool of 1905 to be accorded the same reverence? Why should it be? It is unattractive in and of itself in its bubbled, crackled, scaly appearance. Not only that, but it is also hiding whatever beauty the underlying the 100-year-old wood may have to share with us. And on top of that, it has probably, in its deteriorated condition, lost the ability to perform its first and foremost function—that of protection. With its crackled surface and lack of adhesion, it is unlikely that the original finish would repel water from its wooden ward. It would be more likely to hold and absorb rather than deflect and repel.

Refinishing certainly enhanced both the appearance and the current market value of these two generic Mission style chairs from the early 20th century.

In short, the value of the stool would be enhanced both monetarily and aesthetically if the original finish were to be replaced with a new, skillfully applied exterior. It could even be of the same chemical composition as the original, if that’s important to the final user. What is important is that the stool has been restored to its honored place next to the rebuilt piano rather than having been “preserved” in its “as found” degraded condition. Perhaps this is the step the high end appraisers are leaving out when they tell us the piece is worth less because it has been refinished. Of course, it is worth less than a piece that has an original perfect finish, which is extremely rare, but it is certainly worth more than one that has an obscure, unsound original finish in a most unattractive condition.

Many original finishes, while unsightly and sometimes damaged, can be cleaned, repaired and preserved through careful conservation techniques employed by skilled hands and knowledgeable heads. But such measures don’t have to be carried to heroic extremes in most cases. The results just don’t justify the effort.

A beautiful, honestly restored, fully functioning piece of furniture will always be more attractive and desirable than its run-down, grubby looking cousin, except in those rare cases already mentioned.

———————————

Fred Taylor is a antique furniture Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

Send your comments, questions and pictures to me at PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423 or info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address. For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

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How many times have you heard an appraiser on TV or an auctioneer in person use the term “patina” in describing an antique piece of anything, be it furniture, jewelry clothing, whatever? But if you were able to stop them in mid-sentence could they, in fact, precisely define the word for you? Probably not. As it turns out, the definition of patina is a lot like the definition of pornography. It’s hard to say what it is but you know it when you see it.

There is even discussion about how the word is pronounced. My ancient “American College Dictionary” by Random House places the emphasis on the first syllable so the word is “PAT-ina.” So does the “Columbia Encyclopedia,” Sixth Edition, 2001. In everyday use however, many people—including me—rightly or wrongly, put the emphasis on the second part of the word so it is “pa-TINA.” It doesn’t matter as along as we all know what it means. Or don’t know what it means, as the case may be.

So what does it mean? To some people, the answer is a simple two words: “old dirt.” But that is too simple and not entirely correct. My antique dictionary defines it as a film or encrustation on the surface of an object indicating great age. That’s a good start, but with furniture I think it involves a great deal more than that. The “Encyclopedia of Furniture,” by Joseph Aronson, defines it as “Color and texture of the surface produced by age and wear. In wood furniture the varnish, shellac or oil has a tendency to deepen yet retains transparency; edges wear smooth and sharp outlines are softened.” Now we are getting somewhere.

The crackled old shellac finish on this early 19th-century drawer is certainly original and probably qualifies as “patina,” but is it desirable?

But that still doesn’t quite cover it. All of those characteristics can be duplicated to some degree by an experienced finisher, so there must be more to it than that. But at least Aronson tried. Many antiques reference books either avoid the subject altogether because it is so hard to handle concisely and accurately, or else they just gloss over it. An example of that treatment can be found in “American Furniture,” by Marvin D. Schwartz, which states that patina is the “Mellow and worn aspect a surface acquires through age; highly desirable quality on most antique furniture.” That steps nicely around it.

The color on the arm of this birch chair with a mahogany finish is certainly worn. Is this patina? Would you like it on your chair?

John Obbard, in his recent book “Early American Furniture” (Collector Books, 2000), gets a little more precise in saying “Patina is the cumulative effect of age, sunlight, wear and grime on old surfaces of wood and metal …” The “Antiques Roadshow Primer,” by Carol Prisant (Workman, 1999), takes a more humanistic approach. It says patina is “the sheen on a surface caused by long handling …” and that it is “… the accumulation of wax, soil, stains and oils that human hands have left on furniture over the course of many years, have created a smooth film of, well, dirt.” There we have the short of it again—dirt, and we humans are to blame; not sunlight, humidity or atmosphere.

This turn-of-the-century oak table top sure looks-well worn by long handling – and abuse. It still probably qualifies as having patina.

So, by the definitions of the trade, a piece that has patina is dirty, oily, grimy, worn, beat up, faded, rounded and generally disagreeable. By those standards, I have some extremely patinated sneakers. Surely that can’t be the whole thing.

It turns out that patina, whatever it is, has not always been universally desirable. Surely Goddard, Phyfe, Belter and Jellif did not send out their masterpieces all dirty and grimy. They were shiny and clean, new and fresh, and 20 or 30 years ago that was the way much of the antiques trade—including some museum curators—preferred their antiques. And that’s the way many buyers wanted their new old pieces to look. They didn’t want all that dirty old stuff in their new dining room or bedroom, with a crackly old dark finish that could be hiding almost anything, especially the beauty of 200-year-old mahogany. The current emphasis on originality and patina is just that; current. It wasn’t the case 30 years ago and may not be the case 30 years from now.

Perhaps the definition of patina is not as important as we thought it was. Perhaps patina, which, in and of itself, is not always a beautiful thing, judging by the industry definitions, should just be regarded as one more tool of the inquiring collector, used to verify the apparent age of a piece.

Next time you are tempted to discuss the patina of a piece with a dealer or auctioneer, just ask yourself, “Does the piece LOOK, SMELL and FEEL old?” That may be the best definition of all.

Fred Taylor is a Worthologist who specializes in American furniture from the Late Classicism period (1830-1850).

Visit Fred’s website at www.furnituredetective.com. His book “How To Be A Furniture Detective” is now available for $18.95 plus $3 shipping. Send check or money order for $21.95 to Fred Taylor, PO Box 215, Crystal River, FL 34423.

Fred and Gail Taylor’s DVD, “Identification of Older & Antique Furniture,” ($17 + $3 S&H) and a bound compilation of the first 60 columns of “Common Sense Antiques,” by Fred Taylor ($25 + $3 S&H) are also available at the same address.

For more information call 800-387-6377, fax 352-563-2916, or e-mail info [at] furnituredetective [dot] com.

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Join WorthPoint on Twitter and Facebook.

Patina is a natural surface tint which occurs on many objects of age. Most collectors consider patina desirable, and will pay more for an object with authentic patina.

Ivory items naturally turn slight yellow [Image #1 - Vintage whale teeth] to golden yellow [Image #2 - Antique whale tooth] through exposure to sunlight, handling (absorption of skin oil), room smoke [Image #3 - Tabua], etc. Mammoth & Mastodon tusk sections have a dark brown patina from being buried in the ground for thousands of years. Authentic patina can penetrate quite deeply into the ivory [Image #4 - Mammoth scrimshaw].

Copper, silver, bronze, tin, and other soft metal items can also gain patina with age. This is usually a type of surface oxidation caused by human handling [Image #5 - coins] & [Image #6 - silver service], exposure to air [Image #7 - outdoor bronze statue] & [Image #8 - outdoor copper statue], or submerged in the sea [Image #9 - bronze cannon].

Iron & steel can also display a decorative dark patina color from being buried in the ground [Image #10 -cannon ball]. Usually though, iron corrosion is the undesirable brown/orange rust that continues to eat-away, and may eventually destroy that item [Image #11 - rusty chain].

Stone items can also acquire patina through burial [Image #12 - arrowhead], and atmospheric exposure [Image #13 - Stonehenge].

Patina on glass items is a special case, as the amount & color can be directly related to the glass formula, length of burial, etc. [Image #18 - glass bottle]. Worthologist Bill Lindsey has written an inclusive WorthPoint article about this subject, entitled Patination and Historic Bottles.

ALL of these types of patina can be faked through the use of dyes & washes [Image #14 - faux patina tooth], or through intentional exposure of metal items in slightly acidic solutions [Image #15 - modern weather vane]. Sometimes this is obvious, and sometimes it takes a well-trained eye to reveal the forged age. For this reason, many collectors like to view items with patina intact. Patina can be a measure of age, as well as an indicator of authenticity, or NOT.

Grime, dirt, transferred oxidation, etc., are NOT patina, and are therefore not desirable. I have carefully cleaned many antique scrimshawed whale teeth, using Q-tips and denatured alcohol, to remove grime from a hundred years of handling. Natural patina is NOT effected, and the scrimshawed image can become more obvious against the naturally patina-colored background. Care must be taken to not disturb the antique ink used to accent the scribed design [Image #16 - sea turtle shell].

I have also used a clean cotton cloth with a touch of “Silvo” paste, to slightly surface-clean antique silver jewelry to reveal the natural color of the metal, and to enhance the engraved design. The residue is then buffed-off with another clean cloth. Immersion into a liquid cleaning solution will remove all of the oxidation, even in the engraving. This may be desirable for contemporary silverware & silver service in use, but usually not desirable for show pieces, like antique silver service, candlesticks, jewelry, picture frames, etc. [Image #17 - antique Sterling silver].

Remember, it is easy to clean “just a bit more”, but impossible to “undo” removed patina.