Tag: reviews

The Discovery Channel’s Collecting Show Auction Kings

Another entry in the slew of antiques and collectibles television programming is the Discovery Channel’s Auction Kings, airing Tuesday nights.

This collecting reality show focuses on the world of auctions via the activities of Gallery 63, a consignment auction house in Atlanta, Georgia, owned by Paul Brown.

As far as the personality aspect of the show, the cast of Auction Kings, aka the crew of Gallery 63, is amiable enough. Unlike some shows where part of the appeal is the characters and how they interact, the folks on Auction Kings may be a bit too affable… They do joke around and challenge one another, so it seems like a nice place to work; but they lack the edge of say Pawn Stars or the chemistry of the American Pickers. (Cindy Shook, the manager, is probably my favorite because she’s a racy lady!)

A show strength lies in the usual collecting show format: the brief educational segments on history and identification, often comprising of those appearances by experts in specific areas of collectibles.

Additionally, segments on Auction Kings often show some of the necessary behind the scenes work that many collectors and bidders forget about when they include Delfino Ramos, the handyman, tackling repairs — including on items he’s never seen before. While this isn’t a detailed “how to” segment, viewers get an idea of how easy or complicated repairs are, and therefore can consider that effort (or the charge by a professional) when evaluating antiques and collectibles. This is helpful for collectors at every level.

However, the best part of Auction Kings is the fact that this show is focused on auctions themselves. Because auctions are spontaneous, surprising things!

While Hollywood Treasure is also focused on auctions, movie memorabilia and collectibles is a very specific niche — and those auctions are for icons of film, which means higher prices. Auction Kings, on the other hand, shows general auctions. There are rare gems, but there’s also a lot of “everything else.”

From a rather unremarkable pair of cheetah print chairs (which may or may not have once been in a brothel) to a book authenticated as previously owned — and signed — by John Hancock; from a case of Billy Beer to an antique Venetian mirror; from retro arcade games to an ancient hand canon; Gallery 63 gets it all.

And viewers can learn about it.

As every fan of auctions knows and the show says, over and over again, “you never know what will show up at an auction,” or what it will go for at an auction. This is shown via the end of the show recaps, in which you are shown the item, its appraised value or auction estimate, what the owner/seller hopes to get for the item, and the final value at the end of the auction.

Sometimes the seller is happily shocked, sometimes the bidder gets a steal, sometimes both the buyer and the seller are thrilled — it all comes down to their expectations. And the climate on the auction floor, of course.

In a recent episode, a man brought in a case of Billy Beer. The breweriana expert said it had no value because a lot was sold and everyone saved it thinking it would be valuable one day. But they were going to auctioned it off anyway because the beer is no longer tasty (If it ever was?) and the owner didn’t care what it sold for. This prompted a bet between Shook, the manager, and new employee Jon Hammond, “The Picker.”

Hammond thought the case of Billy Beer would sell for $100 or more, even after Shook told him what the expert had said. They wagered a six-pack of fresh beer on the auction results — and Shook lost when it sold for $100. So you could say that the newbie knew more than the more experienced folks. Or he just got lucky. In any case, he got the free six-pack of beer. *wink*

Just another case of “You never know what will happen at an auction.” And why I like to watch Auction Kings.

American Restoration

The collectibles spin-off show I’ve been waiting for is here: American Restoration.

You may have heard about it, sometimes promoted or promised under other names such as Rick’s Restorations and Rusty Nuts (I prefer the title Rusty Nuts, but with the success of American Pickers, I guess the corporate guys figured American Restoration was more bankable).  This latest show to join the History Channel’s Monday night lineup for collectors follows the work of Rick’s Restorations, the Las Vegas business owned by Rick Dale.

You’ll remember Dale’s appearances on Pawn Stars; he’s the guy who’s restored such things as old gas pumps and soda machines.

Dale and his staff focus mainly on the classic restoration of vintage and antique mechanical Americana. I think I may have just made that category of collectibles up, so if you don’t know what I mean, it’s vintage appliances, motorcycles, radios, pedal cars, railroad memorabilia, candy dispensers, pinball machines, jukeboxes, barber chairs, bicycles, and all sorts of things made in the American Rust Belt — you know, back when we made stuff in the USA.

(Not that their work is limited to made in the USA only; but you will see a lot of what America once manufactured, both for retail as well as to sell items at retail, i.e. advertising, service tools, and salesmen’s stuff.)

Rick and his staff are a colorful bunch of personalities (something I’ve admitted I love about Pawn Stars), however it’s clear that they not only know what they are doing, technically speaking, but they know the importance of what they do: they are reclaiming the history of objects, both in terms of an owner’s personal nostalgia and the workmanship of yesteryear.

While it is made quite clear that what Dale and his team mainly do is classic restorations, restoring antique and vintage items to their former glory keeping the item’s integrity by keeping the item as original as possible using parts specific to the object, viewers of Pawn Stars will recall that Dale himself has pointed out that some items can and should be modified or customized to make them more usable.

The example that leaps most vividly to my mind was a Coke machine which Dale made more useful by modifying the old machine to dispense modern bottles. I recall being surprised because I’m so used to being told not to ruin a patina, let alone update such vintage things, especially if you want to resell the item. But when Dale explained, I totally understood it. This is exactly the sort of thing I want to learn more about, and why I’ve been looking forward to the show!

Along with seeing so many old things once made by hand &/or manufactured with pride, Dale does a nice job of informing us about the item, its purpose, and who made it. (You know I’m a sucker for such context!)

Dale also tells you the cost of what he and his team have done, as well as the retail value it now has; especially useful if you are considering or justifying the restoration of something you own.

But perhaps the biggest thrills (and bulk of the show) revolve around the actual restoration process of antiques and vintage collectibles.

If you aren’t the handy DIY restorative type, you’ll gain a better understanding of just how much work and man hours go into classic restoration.  Because the majority of the items are metal, there’s the removal of rust and old paint (do you use  sand blasting, walnut blasting or sodium pressure washing?), general body work, painting, recreating or replacing graphics and logos — and that’s not even getting to the mechanical parts!

This is what Rick Dale calls the “grunt work.” But there’s still the time and money spent searching for authentic missing parts. (And what can’t be found might have to be recreated too.)  Whew!

The amount of work shown in American Restoration may not inspire you to restore your own antiques and collectibles, but it will help you as a collector of mechanical Americana.  You’ll learn more about the collectibles you covet and how to appraise their condition; you learn to understand the price tags on restored collectibles and antiques as well as appreciate the fees charged by professional restoration companies.

If nothing else, collectors will enjoy seeing such classic and iconic Americana.

New Collecting Show: Hollywood Treasure

In what may seem like an unlikely match, the SyFy channel enters into collectibles infotainment with Hollywood Treasure; yet given the nature of the show, it may not seem such a strange match…

Hollywood Treasure follows the activities of Joe Maddalena, the owner of Profiles in History, the world’s largest auctioneer of movie and television props and memorabilia. Since science fiction has given us some of the most iconic films, TV shows, and pop culture reference points, a show about such significant relics is rather suited to the channel.  And we certainly can’t ignore that sci-fi has some of the most devoted fans and obsessive collectors!

Hollywood Treasure sure does show incredible pieces of film history — the sort of things that most of us are even afraid to dream about having. For example, on the premiere episodes last night, we saw the Wicked Witch of the West’s hat from The Wizard of Oz. It sold for $200,000 —  if I’m recalling correctly; it rather blew my mind!

In this way, Hollywood Treasure is rather like the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous of the collecting shows; it showcases some of the most rare keepsakes of our culture, with auction prices to match, that end up in private collections. It’s eye candy most of us will never have. Maybe never even see (outside of the show).

But that’s not the only reason the show is worth watching.

As an obsessive collector who dreams of the ability (and staff!) to find and research objects until the answers are found — or at least all options are exhausted, I enjoy watching the means and methods Maddalena and his staff use to authenticate items.

In fact, I wish a bit more time was spent showing the details of such pursuits.

The brief consolidated findings of motion picture and television historian Marc Wanamaker, who stated the suit was indeed worn by Bela Lugosi in White Zombie is authentic even though the jacket had been modified by the studio (he even got a certificate of authenticity from Warner Brothers to prove it!) left me wanting to know more.

And the steps in identifying the old carpet bag found in a Chicago basement as the one used by Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins were so fascinating that the frames seemed to fly by too quickly.

But maybe that’s the sort of hunger that’s never really satiated for the obsessive. *wink* (And I can get that sort of info from History Detectives too.)

Then too there are the moments we collectors can bond over, no matter how deep our pockets, or how rare our collectibles.

The ambiguous anxiety of Sue Palmer, the owner of the Wicked Witch’s hat, as she pondered whether or not to sell was something most of us know (even if our decision to sell doesn’t bring such big bucks).  It’s that personal connection to the tangible object versus money; it’s where “Mine!” meets “Maybe it belongs somewhere else — to someone else…”  We’ve all been there and wrestled with those decisions.

And my heart broke when horror collector Ron Magid had to stop the bidding on Lugosi’s suit at $95,000 and lose what he coveted… Haven’t we all had to bail on bidding or just walk away and leave what we love behind? Oh, the agony of wallet’s defeat!

But I was nodding and grinning again when Magid explained his reason for putting down his paddle: “I’d spend the rest of the life on the front porch if my wife knew I’d spent $100,000 on a suit.”

So while the collectibles shown in SyFy’s Hollywood Treasure are completely out of my reach, the fundamental aspects of collecting are here: the passion for hunting, preserving, owning, research, buying and selling exist in all levels of collecting.

However, part of the charm of shows like Pawn Stars and American Pickers is the chemistry between the cast (or, if you prefer, the professionals). Since only two episodes of Hollywood Treasure have aired, it’s difficult to say if this sort of fun will emerge on thhe show. Right now, the tone is far more “business professional” which, while perhaps more appropriate for the caliber of collectibles, rather removes that sense of personality. But as I said, time will tell.

Personally, I’m looking forward to more episodes of Hollywood Treasure.

And if the beyond-my-grasp level of grand collectibles makes this show more of a guilty pleasure than an actual informative show, I can live with that.

Publication Review: Antique Week

I tend to be vocal about my criticisms of Antique Week. It’s not some internet attitude talking, but human nature; we tend to be more vocal with our complaints than with our compliments. So I figured it was time I gave Antique Week it’s proper due and give it a proper review.

Antique Week is a popular industry publication for antiques and collectibles — and I say it’s an “industry publication” rather than a hobby publication as the weekly focuses heavily not only on pricing, but on information for dealers. Such marketplace information can be a bit of a turn-off for some, but this weekly newspaper (published on actual newsprint) contains lots of good information on antiques, art, and (mainly vintage) collectibles. There’s even a regular column by my no-so-secret crush (who I’ve met several times), Wes Cowan!

While the newspaper is published weekly, not all the stories are timely. (Not to toot my own horn too much, but hubby and I have often beaten Antique Week to the reporting punch. Most recent examples include my article on the antique vampire kit was published October 15, 2009, theirs in the January 11, 2010 issue; and hubby’s article on the 1913 Liberty Nickel was published December 24, 2009, Antique Week‘s was in the January 18, 2010 issue.) But I don’t suppose that matters too much; we’re talking about old things, not social needs or political issues.

Plus there’s lots of ads (from full pagers to classifieds) for antique shops, auctions, flea markets, etc. — including dealers and individual collectors who want stuff. You know when you hear folks on Roadshow etc. casually mentioning those specialized auctions held once or twice a year, or some private collection that’s been up for auction? Well, they’re (usually) found in Antique Week — and in time for you to plan to get to them (or make arrangements to view catalogs and bid) too.

Each issue is in two parts: the first section features news and information by area (Easter, Central, and Western) and the inner National section. And as a subscriber, you have access to the website, where you can search archived issues, auctions, etc.

Honestly, Antique Week is one of the few weekly publications I read every page of and save (though my saving of old newspapers probably surprises no one lol). So thanks, Mom, for renewing my subscription for Christmas!

Right now, you can register for a free four week trial subscription to AntiqueWeek with website access. And you can send a friend a free week or sample issue.

Falling In Love With The Toy Wife (1938)

Another guest post by Jaynie Van Roe of Here’s Looking Like You, Kid.

The second film I watched as part of TCM’s celebration of actress Luise Rainer‘s 100th birthday was The Toy Wife aka Frou Frou (1938).

In the film, Rainer plays Gilberte “Frou Frou” Brigard, who gets the name Frou Frou from the sound of her swishing dresses. And that certainly does imply more than a love of fashion, but a frivolity as well.

Many compare this film to Gone With The Wind, Camille, and Jezebel for more than its location and time period; like Frank Miller at TCM, folks refer to Frou Frou as a “tempestuous Southern belle.” But I disagree. For while she’s as beautiful and charming as those other women, fundamentally Frou Frou is not the hardened and man-ipulative woman of pride seen in those other films.

If she seems spoiled, it’s a result of those who have been so charmed by her that they’ve pampered and protected her into a perpetual state of childhood. Example: When the matronly Madame Vallaire complains of a toothache and claims that the worst thing about it is that treatment requires a visit to the city of New Orleans, Frou Frou, who desperately wants to see the glamorous city, fakes a toothache herself. It’s the obvious ploy of a child who has just seconds before begged to go to the city, but the next thing you know, Frou Frou, her sister, and Madame Vallaire are all in New Orleans.

Yes, Frou Frou is spoiled. But even so, she lacks a shewish quality — or even an iron sense of will bend others to. Her strengths lay in an innocence and a resiliency born of continual enchantment and enthusiasm.

In fact, Frou Frou’s childlike sense of wonder rather leaves her sans the mission and the guile (if not the means of feminine charms) to be the iron fist in the velvet glove genre of southern belle heroines.

Frou Frou wants a husband — but like many a young woman, she is more in love with love, infatuated with the idea of a husband rather than setting her sights on any one in particular… And in fact, it is her lovelorn sister who inserts Frou Frou into her own romance, creating not only a love triangle but breaking Frou Frou’s own burgeoning romance, and setting up the tragedies which ensue.

Luise Rainer’s portrayal of Frou Frou is as charming as can be. Not only is she a beauty (those cheekbones are to die for!), but she manages to encapsulate both an enthusiasm as frothy, delicate, and gay as those swishing skirts — as well as an appreciation and delight for what she has (which, as any parent will tell you, is rarely a virtue of children). When Frou Frou says, “I want to look at this room, it’s such a pretty room,” there’s a breathless wistfulness usually reserved for moments of longing… Yet this is about what she already has. And the scenes with her film screen son, Georgie, are so beautiful to watch.

In the end, film critics and movie-goers alike didn’t like this film. Frankly, they just didn’t get it. When they say Rainer is “too feminine,” it’s clear they are as ignorant to the delights of Frou Frou as they are the storyline and the plight of The Toy Wife.

But I get Frou Frou and The Toy Wife.

It’s a film like this which drives a person to collecting. I simply must collect all things Toy Wife!

I must have movie stills, magazine articles (like the one shown above, from Picture Show magazine, a London weekly, dated October 15th 1938), and (dare to dream!) something from that film that Luise Rainer as Frou Frou touched…

And please, TCM, I beg of you to get this released on DVD!

I won’t be collecting for me, for commercial reasons — I’ll be collecting for Frou Frou. She needs to know that someone, even all these years later, loved her as she was.

I know collecting yet another film means I risk collecting all things Luise Rainer, but I simply cannot, will not, abandon Frou Frou. So it’s a risk this collector is very willing to take.

Image credits, in order they appear in this post:

Color film poster for Frou Frou (aka The Toy Wife), via Benito International.

The Toy Wife film still featuring Melvyn Douglas, Luise Rainer, and Robert Young, from Movies & Things.

Reprint photo of Robert Young & Luise Rainer in The Toy Wife, from Hemetsphere-Auction-Services.

Two scans from feature article inside Picture Show magazine, October 15, 1938, Frou Frou and Georgie, and MGM Frou Frou article page), via LuiseRainer.Net

Color photo of Robert Young and Luise Rainer from ThePhotoArchive.

American Pickers

Monday night was the premier of the History Channel’s American Pickers. This hour long show is the channel’s latest foray into the world of collectibles and antiques, following one of my other favorite shows Pawn Stars. So I was wicked excited to see it.

The show documents the actions of Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz (friends since the 8th grade and business partners in Iowa-based Antique Archaeology) and Danielle Colby Cushman (who holds down the fort back at the shop), folks who make a living off doing the work that some collectors and dealers won’t: not only crawling through farms, sheds, garages and junk yards to spot the gems, but willing to ask the dreaded question, “How much?” and then dicker over price.

For some of us, this isn’t so much something we wouldn’t do, but something we simply don’t have time for. (And this is how the pickers do more than survive but thrive.) For me, this is my dream job.

It’s not just that I’d like to turn my hobby of digging around for stuff into full-time travel adventures, but I really, really, have a fondness for what hubby and I call “old coots.” I love old people, especially old men, with stories to tell — and quirks, I love quirks. And American Pickers finds them and shows them to us.

Like Bear, the guy who was a second generation carny with 35 years worth of old carnival equipment and rides. I don’t recall the names of the other charming old men who we met in this first episode, but hubby can attest to my rapt attention and squealing during commercial breaks — both of which express my excitement and delight with the show.

So American Pickers satisfies not only my need to see more junk but to meet more old coots. But maybe you have different needs?

For those more seriously interested in antiques and collectibles than living vicariously through the day to day fun of what Frank, Mike, and Danielle do, there are more practical matters included in American Pickers.

There’s the obligatory math analysis of how much paid for the item, it’s value, and the resulting (at least potential) profits. There’s the history of the objects found (another obsession of mine). And there are tips and tricks too. Such as the best places to pick are at houses and properties without satellite dishes and new vehicles, that you always get the owner to name his or her price first, and that, no, you don’t always get what you want.

If you’re new to collecting, never been so knee-deep in dirty stuff as a collector, or just want to brush up on your antique hunting and negotiating skills, there’s plenty to learn (or reaffirm) from Mike & Frank.

Personally, I’ll continue to watch for the eye candy — the antiques and the old coots. And I’ll keep hoping for my future career as a traveling picker — who writes from the road.

Locally, original episodes of American Pickers are on Monday Nights, up against NBC’s Heroes. I used to watch Heroes religiously, but it’s no contest: The American pickers are my real heroes.