Dealing with treasures, cont.

If you are curious about what I did with all the treasures I showed in my previous post, here are some reports.

I was right about the unusual chest of drawers: it looks great in the yarn shop. The old table was, like in so many projects, a temporary solution that just hanged on, until the right piece turns up. I have put some stuff in drawers.  The cash machine is probably slightly too big, but I don't think it matters. It looks much better than the old, modern one made from a printie.

Removing the glass and putting it back was easy, so my glazing solution works well. (You can see the before-image of the shop in the linked post).

Replacing the chandelier in the reception room was surprisingly painless. I didn't even have to remove the whole floor above, just lift it a bit. I think I did the same when I put up the current one. This is possible because I always assemble floors on card so they are relatively easy to remove or lift.

Since the new chandelier has a hanging hook rather than a ring, I thought about a new way of attaching it. Rather than using thin wine wire as before, I made a loop from champagne wire, put the ends through the hole and bent the ends. It is a stronger fixture; it looks both neater and more natural. The whole operation took me about five minutes. In case you wonder, the ceiling rose is made from a cheese box lid.

Obviously, I had to remove all objects from the drawing room above, and when I was putting them back I thought that the new clock would look nice on the chest. And more period-correct.

This is what happens: adding and replacing all the time. We do this in our 1:1 life as well, don't we?

I planned to move the chandelier from the reception room to the upper hall, but it proved next to impossible. The floor above is firmly attached, with a staircase glued on to it, so that would demand serious reconstruction I am not prepared for.

 

After trying the chandelier here and there, I have decided to replace the one in the music room. I am doing it reluctantly and with a strong sense of guilt because this chandelier was among the very, very first objects I made, more than ten years ago. I still like it and will use it in another project. But at the moment this feels the right thing to do.

Again, I didn't have to remove the whole floor, and I used my newly acquired technique, although this chandelier has a ring rather than hook. So this time I did the opposite: made a hook out of wire, ran it through the whole and bent, then hung the chandelier on it. This way, next time I want to change the light, I won't have to remove floors. Why haven't I thought about it before? Seems elementary now.

So the music room now looks like this (I see I need to adjust the candles - they keep falling off). 

Wait a minute, you are probably saying now, what about the master bedroom that was supposed to get one of those grand chandeliers to match the mirror? Ah, do you remember the two-arm chandelier I was planning to put into the working kitchen? It is now going into the master bedroom. The room above is nursery which doesn't even have a hardwood floor (reminder to improve this!) so it was as easy as it can be. And here we are. Yes, the ceiling rose is a yogurt lid. 

Full view of the room:

I am sooooo pleased with all these changes, not least because they turned out to be significantly less arduous than anticipated. And as I am looking at the rooms, it feels they have always been like this. A good sign.

I now have two nice lights to use somewhere else. I am sure I will think of the right place for them.

The outcome of this exercise is that I have discovered carefully suppressed flaws that need attention (not just the nursery floor), and I am looking forward to returning to Womble Hall after a long pause while I was occupied with other projects.

Come back soon.

Dealing with treasures

On my annual visit to Stockholm I spend incredible amount of money in a particular shop. It is only open a couple of hours on Saturdays so I always contact the owner in advance to make sure they are there. I plan to spend at least an hour in this teeny tiny shop because by now I know what I am looking for and how much it would cost, so I need careful inspection. First time I discovered this shop I was overwhelmed. I still get very excited going there.

Here is this year's catch:

It may seem unsystematic and eclectic, but it is fully consistent with my previous purchases. I buy things I cannot make myself; I buy things that match stuff that I have, I buy unusual things, and I buy things that are slightly broken and that I know I can mend. For instance, I managed to mend a brass chandelier (from the same shop) as well as pewter candlesticks and wooden wardrobes. Several things in this bundle (if it's appropriate to use "bundle" for expensive stuff) need mending.

The chest of drawers - I bought it because I have never seen anything like it, and I still need to find out where it comes from. If you know, please tell me. But one knob was missing. I added a bit of a chess piece.

It isn't a perfect match, but I have tried other options, and this was the best. I can always replace it if I find something better. I don't know where this chest goes, probably in the retro house. Or I may build a vignette around it, because it is really unique. 

The vintage telephone - we had one like this when I was a child - will obviously go to the retro house. I am in two minds whether to repaint it.

The clock was hopelessly broken: 

I managed to bend it back into shape and glue together with superglue. The pendulum can move, and I have added hands from my stash of watch parts. It will go into my clockmaker shop. (Scroll down a bit in the linked post to see it).

The lovely fruit bowl can go almost anywhere (except maybe Tudor), and I have filled it with apples. These are real berried and will probably wither, but right now they look perfect. 

I could not resist the cash register. I have been looking for it for a while. It is a pencil sharpener, and I have a number of miniatures in the same style, probably by the same manufacturer. Another thing to research.

 

I will try it in my yarn shop. (Again, scroll down; it's the same post). Wait, maybe the chest will look good in the yarn shop? This will need some testing, which involves taking off the glazing. Something for long autumn evenings.

The pewter teapot had no lid. I have exactly the same teapot from the same shop, with a lid and a pretty tripod. 

  

I know some people would make a lid from fimo or something like that, but I am not good at sculpting. I am good at saving things that can come handy. In this case I remembered metal buttons I got last year from a friend. One of those became a perfect lid.

The other pewter things I thought were straightforward - I also had some of these before - so I just put them randomly on a tray. 

But see, that was completely wrong. When I looked closer, they were two different designs. 

The sugar bowl on the left is smashed, and someone probably tried to mend it and broke it, so I will leave it as it is. After all things get broken in 1:1 world as well. I am not yet sure where these objects will go. They look great in glass cabinets. Or maybe the Tudor household needs more pewter.

 

The plates also turned out to be all different and not like any other pewter plates I have. One day I will do some proper research on these miniatures. Meanwhile, they are definitely going to the Tudor house.

The magnificent standing mirror has replaced the simple one in master bedroom. There was nothing wrong with that mirror, and I will use it elsewhere. But this looks really grand. In all confidence, it cost almost as much as everything else together. I couldn't resist it.

It now feels imperative to replace the chandelier with one to match the mirror. There will be a massive replacement of chandeliers following my new purchases. This chandelier has to go into the reception room.

Then the chandelier from the reception room can perhaps go to upper hall, and the chandelier from upper hall can move to the bedroom. To perform all these replacements, I will have to remove floors in rooms above, so it will take some time.

But I will start with this two-arm chandelier that will go into the working kitchen.

This will be a challenge because I cannot get the main house off the basement to use the drilled hole in the ceiling. (Sometimes I imagine the horror of having to move the house, and I stop quickly). I will have a think of some clever way to attach it neatly.

All in all, my annual miniature binge has resulted in many interesting objects most of which lead to new projects rather than just finding a place for them. Have I ever mentioned that a dollhouse or a room box is never finished?

Come back soon.

Dealing with antiques

I have now started to have a closer look at the miniatures I bought last week in Stockholm. Mind, I know that there are scores of fake antiques out there, made in China and skilfully aged. I know too little to be able to judge. However, this is what I have found out about the half-scale stove:

 

You cannot see it very well, but it says "Skoglund Olson Gefle". Some research on the web, performed by my excellent research assistant (Staffan, my husband), yields the following. Skoglund & Olson was a prominent ironware factory in Gävle (Gefle with old orthography), the city where Staffan grew up. They produced stoves, fireplaces and all kinds of hardware, and they also produced iron toys and miniatures, notably cars and stoves. Another source warns that a lot of fake Skoglund & Olson toys are nowadays made in India and sometimes sold as antiques. It wasn't expensive, but people do not always know what they sell. I like it anyway. It fits nicely in my half-scale kitchen, although it is wrong style: the kitchen is early Victorian. Does it matter? I may make a half-scale Swedish kitchen one day. I have many times built a roombox around one particular piece.


Another beautiful item is this drop-leaf table that some vandal has spoiled by gluing on whatever it was, apparently plates and pots.

I have many times removed marks after glasses and plates from 1:1 furniture, but whoever vandalised this table made sure the glue would stay forever. I didn't want to scratch it so I dissolved the glue carefully with nail polish remover, then sanded with fine-grain sandpaper and soaked again and again in teak oil. It is still not perfect, but the worst stains are gone. I will repeat the treatment a couple more times.

This piece is signed and marked, and I am trying to find out something about the maker and the mark. All ideas welcome.

The table will go into my Swedish kitchen, to replace the made-in-China-and-wrong-style table. Of course I will have the replace the chairs as well. Maybe I can get some from Kotte Toys. Any idea which chairs would match the table?

Finally, for this round, I have scrutinised the wardrobe. It has no marks, but it looks old (see above, looks are no guarantee of authenticity). It was broken, but the tiny nails that hold the door and work as hinges were still there. It is extremely delicate, and I was anxious not to break it. A small piece was loose where the nail had been, and I glued it carefully.

Inside, there were some holes that I believe indicate that there used to be a shelf. I may make a shelf from balsa.

 I managed to put the door in place, but the nail didn't get in all the way, and I didn't want to force it.

It is hard to estimate the scale. It is 13 cm tall, including the ornament, so it is closer to 1:16. I don't do 1:16 scale, but I may put it somewhere in a way that wouldn't be conspicuous. I may also put it on a low chest of drawers, as a cabinet. But it is still a mystery where it comes from. If you know or have an idea where I can find out please let me know.

Temptations

I have once again fallen for some antiques, in the same shop in Stockholm as last year. I stood in front of a cabinet that the shop assistant had opened for me, fondling some nice pieces, when a lady next to me said: "If you are interested, I have a whole shop of dollhouse furniture just around the corner". I was surprised because I was sure I didn't know about any dollhouse shop around the corner, or I would have already spent all my money there. I had already made up my mind, and this is what I bought:

I typically buy things I cannot make myself. The dining table is exquisite (and signed, S.R. -97, in case someone can identify the maker), endlessly more elegant than a similar one I have, "made in China". Unfortunately, it has marks after plates that had been glued to it (barbarian!), but I hope I can remove them gently. The white round table is of a kind that always comes handy. I have already put it in my Victorian bedroom. I bought the corner dresser because I once had exacly the same in 1:1 scale. This one is Lundby scale and will probably not go with any of my existing projects, but maybe some time... The rocking chair is sweet, and I may leave it as it is or paint and refurbish. The stove is 1:24 and I may put it in my half-scale kitchen, although what shall I do with the one I made?

The stove created alarm in the airport security check.

Happy with my purchases, I went to the other shop. How could I have missed this shop?

Now, in this magical cave, how can one choose? It's different from shopping from ebay, and it's different from finding one or two nice pieces in a charity shop. I spent at least half an hour there, drooling, to my companion's irritation, and I could have stayed there much longer. I believe the owner of the shop was a bit impressed when I identified some rare (and horrendously expensive) pieces. My companion hadn't a clue.

This is what I bought:

The chair is a genuine, signed Carin Backlund. I have read a lot about her furniture in dollhouse books, but I have never held one in my hand. I couldn't resist it. There were several of them, but one felt extravagant enough. The table is also Carin Backlund. It wasn't as expensive as the chair, but expensive enough. The long-case clock isn't remarkable, but it fits well into my clockmaker's shop. The fancy wardrobe was broken so I got it cheap. But the two mirrors were pricy. My companion wondered whether I would be able to clean the glass. I explained that the whole point was that the glass looked old. I believe both mirrors are old. Really old.

I got a reasonable discount, but I think I must stop buying miniatures for a while. And I should probably increase my home insurance.

Collecting

I have repeatedly stated that I am a maker, not a collector, but I have recently succumbed to a number of purchases that have taken me off my maker's trajectory. The interesting thing about buying an unusual piece, such as the Marx clock, is that, if you are curious like me, you learn a lot. Sometimes it is something every miniaturist knows, or should know, but I am, as noted, not a collector, and I really don't know much about dollhouse and toy companies.

Last week in Stockholm, a friend took me on an antique shop round, which we usually do when we meet. I was tempted, and I fell. I could have fallen for more, but I showed character. This is what I bought:

I didn't have any particular project in mind, but I couldn't resist it. I think that by now I recognise an interesting piece when I see it.

In fact, the only piece I recognised was the Arne Jacobsen chair, The Egg.

 

I learned about Jacobsen when I was in Copenhagen some years ago, staying in a hotel that had Jacobsen furniture and folders explaining it. They also sold models in 1:6 scale, which I refrained from buying. I had since then been scouting for the Lundby-scale Egg on ebay, and it turns up every now and then, fetching fancy prices. I paid a fancy price for this one, but somehow it is different when you hold it in your hand. It feels authentic in a way you cannot be certain about a picture on ebay. Of course I know that sellers "age" their merchandise, but I am pretty sure that this chair is a genuine Jacobsen from the late '50s. (And if it isn't, I don't care).

Another piece that needed some research was this sofa:

The piece of paper says "Dollhouse furniture, architect J Udd". The person in the shop could not provide any further information. Web search yielded meagre results. "Architect J Udd produced models of dollhouse furniture of good quality in a nice, period-correct '50s design. Produced in the Gothenburg area". Hmmm... helpful. More search. Picture! Just like mine. "Fantastic sofa by architect J Udd. He produced his furniture during the '40s and 50s outside Leksand". Right, slightly contradictory information, but someone in my miniature group confirmed that John Udd made dollhouse furniture and lived in Dalecarlia, not far from Leksand. My miniature-collecting cousin said she had some furniture by Udd, and yet another virtual friend displayed a whole dollhouse of Udd furniture. So now I know that I have a rare piece, but so far I haven't been able to find any further information about the mysterious architect, not on the web, not in the National Encyclopedia or Who Is Who. Investigation continues.