Furniture of the past was scorned as outdated and undesirable until the closing decades of the 19th century. In this country, following the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, relics of the American past began to be eagerly collected. This new passion for collecting antiques was perhaps driven more by patriotic than aesthetic considerations, however. Americans then wanted only American antiques.

Millionaires on both sides of the Atlantic began, in the 1880's, to collect massive examples of late Renaissance styles with which to fill their newly built baronial mansions. They spent vast sums to acquire 16th century Italian cassones and Jacobean court cupboards. Delicate 18th century French furniture was considered at the time the only suitable style for women's sitting rooms and bedrooms.

English furniture from what we now recognize as the Golden Age was generally dismissed as this century began. But a change of fashion was in the air. In 1905 the British art magazine The Connoisseur noted that the taste for English antiques "is largely on the increase" and that "no home, however unassuming, having any pretensions to refinement is nowadays without some indication of the owner's love of beautiful old things in the shape of a cabinet of china, examples of old silver or old ivory, or a few pieces of eighteenth century furniture."

In 1906 J. Pierpont Morgan, who wished to import quantities of art and antiques from Europe, sponsored passage by the United States government of the Morgan Act. This act allowed for dutyfree entry of art and antiques at least 100 years old. This established the business of selling English antiques in America.

By the time of World War I, some great London dealers had established shops in New York. These British dealers were to shape the taste of notable American collectors for generations to come. Among the first of these British shops were Arthur S. Vernay, Inc. and Charles of London. Later British dealers who helped to define American taste included Joel J. Wolff, Henry Symons and Alec Lewis. Their tutelage and the pieces they offered for sale enabled American collectors to form truly outstanding collections of an international standing. Arthur Vernay, for instance, advised on every acquisition of Mrs. Morton F Plant (later Mrs. John E. Rovensky). When, in 1957, the collections of English furniture from her house on Fifth Avenue and Clarendon Court at Newport were sold in a benefit auction at Parke-Bernet, dealers and collectors from both sides of the Atlantic marvelled.

Another great American collection assembled in the years between the wars was that of Mr. and Mrs. Leslie R. Samuels. This distinguished private collection was widely considered to be one of the finest in this country. The Samuelses acquired pieces from all the top New York dealers, and also made purchases in London. After their deaths, these works were acquired by President and Mrs. Ferdinand Marcos of the Philippines.

The greatest of these American collectors was judge Irwin Untermeyer, who began assembling his collection of English decorative arts at the time of his marriage in 1912. In 1963, Delves Molesworth, then Keeper of the Department of Woodwork at the Victoria and Albert Museum, in London, stated:

"The Untermeyer collection of furniture probably has only two rivals outside the English Royal collections: the comparatively little-known collection in the Lady Lever Art Gallery and the National Collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum, though the latter is less rich in the most elaborate examples."

These great collections were assembled at a time when the very finest examples were, relatively speaking, both available and affordable. What sold then for a song today commands a fortune, if it becomes available at all. In tracking the rise of prices, it is instructive to follow the history of a single piece of furniture.

A secretaire cabinet of mahogany and satinwood, inlaid with tulipwood and ebony and with grisaille panels after Sir Joshua Reynolds, provides a perfect example. This elegant piece was purchased by Col. H.H. Mulliner from a London dealer in 1918 for £80 (about $4,200 in 1989 dollars). In 1924, this same secretaire cabinet sold in the Mulliner Collection sale at Christie's in London to Viscount Leverhulme for £420 (about $17,250 in 1989 dollars). In 1926, Viscount Leverhulme's collection was sold at auction by the Anderson Galleries in New York. In that sale, the secretaire cabinet brought $4,100 (about $30,000 in 1989 dollars). Today, its current retail value is estimated at between $150,000-$200,000.

Opportunities continue to exist, however, for the acquisition of very fine pieces and for distinguished collections to be assembled, Bernard Karr insists.This conviction led him in 1964 to establish Hyde Park Antiques as what he hoped might someday become a primary source in New York City for collectors of English antiques. No little temerity was required for an American to venture into a field hitherto dominated by English dealers. Yet, with customary daring, Mr. Karr proceeded.

"It began almost by accident," he recalls. "Like most collectors, I had set out simply to furnish my own home with beautiful objects. But the more I looked and learned, the more I wanted to buy.

"The collector's instinct often develops in childhood. It did for me. I started with baseball cards. Once I had the best collection of baseball cards in the neighborhood, I moved on to collecting stamps, then rare coins.

"Collecting is a rewarding passion and one that can become all-consuming. Once I began buying antique furniture, I encountered an unexpected problem. Stamps and coins can be stored in albums on the shelf, but breakfront cabinets are another matter, especially in a small apartment. The thrill of the chase was too great for me to stop collecting, but I soon realized that I would have to move to another apartment, or to move out some of my finds.

"Near the office where I was working at the time was a small vacant store near 26th Street on Third Avenue. The rent was $400 a month - a real dent in a 1964 income. I justified it on the grounds that I had bought enough furniture to stock the store. Besides, if those antiques were as good as I thought, there would certainly be buyers for them. People would want them as much as I had. With any luck, and a short-term lease, I might even be able to turn a profit."
That modest ambition was realized, and exceeded. Hyde Park prospered on Third Avenue and continued to thrive following a move uptown to Second Avenue at 70th Street. But the growing business was desperately in need of space that was unaffordable on the Upper East Side.

In 1969, he made the move to larger premises on a then unfashionable stretch of Lower Broadway. Within ten years, Mr. Karr realized he needed yet more room and in 1979 he acquired the Broadway building which now houses Hyde Park Antiques.

"This area had long been the wholesale import district for antiques," Mr. Karr points out. "Dealers south of Union Square made regular trips to Europe, indiscriminately buying large stocks of English and Continental antiques. These were then sold at wholesale to smaller antiques shops around the country. Quantity of stock, not quality, was what people expected to find in this neighborhood.

"Although I established my business in the import district, my strength was that I was not an import dealer. I set out to attract a new clientele, selling only the highest quality.

"Until my first buying trip to Europe in 1982, I bought almost exclusively at estate sales and from private homes. I was always a stickler for the first-rate."

"Buying only the finest pieces I could afford meant that I had very little to sell in those early days. I envied other dealers their turnover and their cash flow. I knew that making twenty quick sales of second-rate pieces would never satisfy me so much as selling one item of genuine quality. Something told me to hold out for the best. Although going for quality meant slow going, I sensed that eventually it would take me farther." Once again, Bernard Karr's hunch was correct.

Advice to Collectors

On the pages that follow are illustrated and described some of the treasures amassed during Bernard J. Karr's quarter century of passionate involvement in the field of English antiques. To place that collection in context, the personal convictions and attitudes that have shaped his purchases may prove valuable.

On Bargains

Percival Griffiths, F.S.A., one of the most important collectors of the early 20th century, made what I consider the definitive statement. He wrote:

Some collectors attach considerable importance to securing what they consider to be bargains ... The best bargains that I ever made were in respect of pieces which I bought from the most important antique shops, at the then market price, and which have ultimately turned out to be bargains owing to the rise in value of the genuine piece. My advice therefore is not to buy a poor piece because it is cheap, but, rather, an expensive piece because it is good.

On Buying from a Reputable Dealer

Security is the added value a reputable dealer offers his customers. Mistakes have been screened out. In acquiring pieces for sale, a dealer must constantly be on guard against those that are unauthentic or second-rate. Any purchasing mistake that manages to slip past him is promptly sent off for sale at an auction house. This sometimes involves taking a loss, but no reputable dealer is willing to jeopardize his reputation

We sell nothing at Hyde Park which is of dubious quality. There is nothing we have ever sold that I would not gladly have back on the floor. If a piece no longer suits a customer's requirements, or if he wishes to upgrade his collection, we are always ready to accommodate our clients.

On Investing

For a good investment, go to your broker or your banker. Don't consider antiques a part of your investment portfolio. Buy antiques because you love them and want to live with them. If, for some reason, you are obliged to sell something in the future, and you double or triple the original price, that's the icing on the cake.

On Fashions

On Learning

No antique can bring its owner full value unless he understands what makes that piece so fine. If something appeals to you, try to discover the reasons why it appeals to you. Beauty is often immediately apparent and is always a pleasure to see, but the more you learn about the qualities that make a thing beautiful, the greater your pleasure will be.

There aren't any trade secrets to connoisseurship. It's simply a matter of exposure. Read all you can, study and see all you can in books and magazines. Visit museums where you can see the finest examples. Look at the antiques in shops and at auctions, then read and look some more. After 25 years, I'm still learning.

On Periods

At Hyde Park, we offer antiques made from the end of the 17th century to the second quarter of the 19th. Workshops in the 18th and early 19th centuries often sought to increase production through hiring numbers of workers, each of whom would contribute his skills to separate elements of a piece. All the work was done by hand, not machines. By 1840, the beginning of the Victorian period, most of the industrial equipment used to make furniture today already existed, and mass production by machine had begun.

My criterion for antique furniture is that it have been made entirely by hand by a cabinetmaker.

On Restoration

One of my great thrills is to buy something I consider pretty good and then - as I go through the restoration process - to find out how really good it is. Another is to buy something neglected and discover, when the cleaning process begins, a marvelous surface under the Restoration must never be confused with redesign. In our workrooms, we clean, repolish and repair to bring to light the beauty that was built in to begin with. We respect the work of the 18th century cabinet-maker. Embellishment has destroyed the value of many pieces that have been offered for sale. The collector must constantly be on guard against genuine pieces that have become no better than fakes through latter-day tampering with finish, construction or detail.

On Authenticity

Anyone in the market for antiques should cast himself in the role of a skeptic. Assume that every antique piece will demonstrate its age in some way. Take nothing at face value. Assume that a piece has problems and secret flaws, then do the detective work to uncover them. Go over the piece analytically to find out what's wrong with it and where tampering, if any, has been done. If the piece passes close examination, you may consider it genuine.

As a prospective buyer, my first consideration is whether the style is pure. Are all the elements correct for the period? The more conversant you are with details of period style, the more quickly you can spot the "slightly off' characteristics that invariably give away pieces not of the period.

Color and grain of the wood is highly important in English furniture. The expert eye learns to distinguish between the highly different types of wood used early in the 18th century and later. Again, the more familiar you are with the beautiful variations seen in fine 18th century cabinetwork, the more crude and obviously wrong unauthentic pieces will appear.

Study the primary wood first. Then turn the piece over, take out the drawers (if any) to study the secondary woods. Different woods, of different degrees of hardness, were chosen by cabinetmakers in England and America. In some cases, the secondary woods may be the only true indicator of a piece's place of origin. Some shrinkage and oxidation should be apparent in the unfinished wood of drawers and at the back of furniture. This takes years to happen and cannot easily be faked.

Shrinkage is a positive sign of age, but some other signs of the wear of time can be misleading. Over two hundred years, sharp corners may well have become dented as furniture was moved around. But beware of heavily distressed surfaces on furniture parts that are not normally subjected to wear.

Don't consider scars an inevitable by-product of age. Certain grand pieces may appear to beunmarred by the passage of time. These are apt to be showpieces that stood in places of honor within great houses. They were never moved, seldom used, and lovingly cared for. Today they remain as spectacular as when they were first made, and in almost pristine condition.

On Auctions

Passion easily overrides reason. Some primitive drive to win comes into play. Many an amateur starts bidding and finds himself unable to stop. The psychology becomes, "I've got to have it, whatever it costs, because when the hammer falls, I'll never have another opportunity."

Many people also have the erroneous idea that whatever they pay at an auction represents a saving over the price they would pay at retail. The amateur bidder who gets carried away by auction frenzy may succeed only in paying a price for his prize that is considerably higher than the object would have commanded in a shop. Too often the winning bidder is the one with a hand in the air when, in the opinion of cooler heads, an object is going for more than it's worth.

On Prices

Prices are "double and treble those of a few years ago." That current market report comes from a 1901 issue of The Connoisseur.

From today's vantage point, prices always appear absurd. Time heals the wound to the pocketbook, and years after the price is forgotten, the joy of ownership remains.

The world is very small today. When something good shows up on the international market, everybody everywhere knows about it. I've been to remote country estates, positive I would have the field to myself, and wound up saying hello to competitors from London, Florence and San Francisco.

On the Future

We may well find that the prohibitively high prices recently fetched at auction for fine 18th century furniture will actually function to the collector's advantage in the long run. Publicity about these astronomical prices is bound to stimulate the profit motive among the owners of fine things. They may well be tempted, by the lure of great profits, to sell things that would otherwise never appear on the market. Pieces that for many years have been in private collections may soon become available to a new generation of collectors.

Who can imagine what superb things may come to light? Great finds of the past may prove to be merely the prologue. Hope keeps a collector, and a collection, alive. The chase is all. The greatest prize is always the one yet to be discovered.