"What you collect says so much about who you are."
---Ben Silbermann
It was at the Varnado Store Museum in July of this year that I glimpsed fantastic local collections: the Stratwood Collection Shakespeare Country china from the late Legette Burris; the delightful Dolls of Many Lands donated by Hallene Magee and daughters Robin and Whitney; cute clowns from Mercer Brumfield; lovely crosses belonging to Mary Jo Poole; pretty pitchers and amazing armadillos of Carrie C. Murray's; sensational salt and pepper shakers that were part of the collection owned by Ruby Lucille French Pfrimmer and donated by Will Branch; plentiful pin cushions belonging to Brenda Christensen; terrific thimbles and bells from Dorothy Kruebbe; a bounty of bottles and jars belonging to Cecil Russell; beautiful decorative bird houses of Terry Seal; a sizeable camera collection on loan from The Dauser Family; interesting enamel ware and granite ware from Genny Brannon; awesome arrowheads belonging to Ron Brumfield; and the marvelous model cars of Wayne McElveen.
Ms. Terry Seal, Director of the Museum, pointed out two of her bird houses which she treasures - one in the form of a church which her friend Joy Fontenot generously gifted her and another which our mutual friend Bea McGehee painted for her. We wholeheartedly agreed that the fairy and mushrooms were Ms. Bea's signature. Reiterating, the provenance is key.
And this is how I came to have a sizeable collection of Roseville pottery. It was just a few, short years ago that a real opportunity - the kind that a person doesn't pass up - presented itself. Picking and purchasing every piece possible, I acquired a significant portion of legendary Louisiana lawyer Max Nathan, Jr.'s collection of old Roseville which I surmise he collected over decades. A prominent New Orleans lawyer in the field of succession and estate planning, Max Nathan taught generations of us, for more than fifty years, security rights at Tulane Law School. He was brilliant beyond description, and a mentor to many.
At an autumn party my husband and I hosted for neighbors, the remarkable old Roseville caught the eye of a fellow - an obvious collector - who pulled me aside and inquired as to its origin. My answer, for Rick - Max Nathan. The provenance trumps the pottery.
While I could not possibly transport the Roseville, I wanted to bring one of my collections to the Varnado Store Museum for the summer exhibit of lovely collections. Broaching the idea to my better half, I was not met with much enthusiasm. But I would have enjoyed sharing my early samplers of which there are four. One from New Orleans has no signifying information and consequently is the least interesting. Two are from England - one dated July 1882 by eleven-year-old Ella Thomson and another undated by Esther Buttler, age twelve. The final and my favorite came to me from Massachusetts - by Sarah Jane Niles, age 12, dated October of 1841.
Lastly, there are the boxes. In all candor, they are what my husband Rodney really did not want to pack. My obsession began several years ago. From campaign chests to tea caddies, I have pursued early American boxes. They vary from primitive to fancy, with decorative mother of pearl accents. Some of the boxes are footed while others are flat. One is filled with brass drafting tools and another, that locks, with mother of pearl handled fish forks and knives. But most are unoccupied including the old spice cabinet. Still, sometimes I think I catch a whiff of cinnamon.
My quest coincided with our daughter's move to Boston. Rodney and I forthwith joined an organization known as Historic New England, formerly the Society for the Preservation of New England Antiquities. They are a heritage organization - the largest and oldest regional one in our country. And Rodney and I view them as a powerful preservation society of all property, both large and small. They spoke to, and welcomed, us - owners and stewards of local property, albeit in the South, on the National Register of Historic Places.
And, so it was with great interest on my last trip to Boston that I made my way to another of their historic properties - Cogswell's Grant, featuring the fabulous folk art of Bertram K. and Nina Fletcher Little who began collecting in the 1920s. And it was there at the primitive property, an 18th century home in Essex, Massachusetts, that I fell in love with everything, not the least of which was the extensive collection of early American boxes. Nina Fletcher Little even penned an entire book on the topic, entitled "Neat & Tidy Boxes and Their Contents Used in Early American Households." Buying the publication, I soon discovered that my early American boxes are a drop in the bucket. Peering at the Littles' colossal collection, I let my imagination run away. Where did they originate? Who owned them? What did they hold? But all my questions were answered. The Littles amazingly tracked down all that information, recording it for posterity. Provenance is always king.
Whatever a person's interest - it is likely not a bevy of boxes - one can find something to collect. And perhaps he has already amassed a collection and not yet realized it. Such is often the case. As the Red Hot Chili Peppers belted out, "look around, look around, look around." I am looking for an early, ornate salt box that doesn't cost an arm and a leg - a tall order. But I do love the hunt. While one is not easy to come by, nothing worth having ever is.
