August 20, 2023Michael Diaz-Griffith is the mastermind behind the best-written coffee-table book to come out in recent memory. And it has a heartening argument at its core.
In The New Antiquarians: At Home with Young Collectors (Monacelli), Diaz-Griffith deploys his considerable intelligence and wit to make the case that, as he writes in his introduction, “young collectors do indeed, despite fears to the contrary, exist” and there has been a “vibe shift” toward antiques, vintage pieces and collectibles in the under-40 set. (His own relatively young age is telegraphed by the use of “vibe shift.”)
Author Michael Diaz-Griffith calls the 22 collectors featured in his book New Antiquarians “not because they uniformly collect antiques . . . but because they follow, with considerable spirit and rigor, in the long, eccentric tradition of treating the practice of connoisseurship as a serious vocation” (portrait by Lia Clay Miller). Top: Among his subjects is New York–based design historian and gallerist Emily Eerdmans, whose front parlor is an homage to her mentor, interior decorator Mario Buatta. Affectionately known as the “Prince of Chintz,” Buatta created the Campanula floral fabric that covers the sofa. The 1950s floral still life is by Jean Isy de Botton, and vintage throw pillows were hand-painted by George Oakes (photo by Brian W. Ferry).
The book is “the culmination of a decade of working to popularize the pursuit of collecting among young people,” says Diaz-Griffith, who is the director of the Design Leadership Network and is on the advisory council of the esteemed Winter Show art and design fair (where he once worked full-time).
For years, the junior crowd at the Winter Show was referred to as the “young and the checkless” by older art world wags, who deemed them mere lookie-loos. And now that they have started buying, they are probably using Apple Pay and other, hipper means of payment.
The New Antiquarians features collectors with a range of tastes. Left: In a 19th-century Long Island farmhouse belonging to architect and creative director Kyle Marshall, an English chintz-covered armchair mingles with a Romanian kilim, while the mantel holds an Art Nouveau candlestick. Right: Antiques dealer Collier Calandruccio‘s discoveries include a ca. 1825 Chinese export parcel-gilt bonheur du jour writing desk. Above it is an early work by 19th-century American painter Henry Peters Gray, a 19th-century copy of a Renaissance portrait of a lady that hangs in the Uffizi and a Barbizon School landscape. Photos by Brian W. Ferry
Anyone who doubts Diaz-Griffith’s existential assertion will find proof of it in the book’s sumptuous visuals. Brian W. Ferry beautifully photographed most of the images of the homes inhabited by 22 “New Antiquarians” and they are printed on a rich matte paper stock. The pages flatter items as different as the silver collection of Deal, England–based artist Pablo Bronstein and the trompe l’oeil furniture of Los Angeles designer Jared Frank.
“The idea of a pendulum is a cliché, but it does swing,” Diaz-Griffith tells 1stDibs, referring to the cycles of collecting taste, as well as the impulse to acquire itself.
For a chinoiserie-style room in his English-seaside home, artist Pablo Bronstein deployed Chippendale-inspired fretwork, arsenic-green paint, chartreuse brocade upholstering the walls and an array of antiques, including a Spode dessert service, Dutch Delft tiles and a Japanese theatrical figure in a mask. The resulting space, writes Diaz-Griffith, is “bracingly unconventional” yet “surprisingly cohesive and cozy.” Photo by Leon Foggitt
According to the author, the moment when the vogue for mid-century modern loosened its grip on collectors coincided with a social media “age of ultimate plurality” — meaning people could be introduced to almost anything online or have their nascent impulses validated.
The pandemic, when people were stuck at home and looking for virtual inspiration (and distraction), hastened the widening of the lens to include lovingly crafted objects of the past. “Younger people are primed to appreciate colors, patterns and complexity,” Diaz-Griffith says.
These new collectors have their own approach to showing off collecting finds, one that is eclectic but not for eclecticism’s sake. “Among a certain set of baby boomers, there’s this idea that if you put an AbEx painting above an old sideboard, people will eat it up,” says Diaz-Griffith. “That’s not how younger people are doing it. The mixing is very unselfconscious and not rule bound.”
Members of the youngest collecting subset have their own way of presenting their treasures. “People in their twenties are reverting back to neutral, cool backdrops for vintage finds,” he says. “They’re collecting old things but treating each object as an object and not as part of the scheme — there’s more negative space.”
Designer Adam Charlap Hyman sits in his Manhattan living room, where an Aubusson tapestry provides a backdrop for modular 1970s seating by Klaus Uredat. Photo by Brian W. Ferry
The book is full of heavy hitters, including Emily Eerdmans, a noted dealer and Mario Buatta protégé; Kyle Marshall, who works with Bunny Williams on her furniture collections; architect Giancarlo Valle and his stylish wife, Jane Keltner de Valle; and designer Adam Charlap Hyman, of the New York and Los Angeles firm Charlap Hyman & Herrero. New Antiquarians shows off the Aesthetic Movement armchairs Charlap Hyman has in his Manhattan apartment, their elaborately carved splats playfully complementing a light fixture of his own design in the form of a shell.
“People are always looking for something that feels fresh to them,” Charlap Hyman says. His theory is that like-minded collectors have taken on what is essentially an anti-modernist stance. “It’s not about the function of the thing — it’s the look,” he explains.
A full-page photograph of Charlap Hyman’s living room depicts one of the most striking juxtapositions in the book: a 17th-century Aubusson rug once owned by his grandmother hangs behind a 1970s modular sofa by Klaus Uredat and a surreal lamp in the form of an eyeball by the artist known as Nicola L.
“I love finding disparate elements that come together in surprising ways,” says Charlap Hyman, referring to compositions like the juxtaposed hand-shaped cushion, eye lamp by Nicola L. and miniature synagogue in the living room. Right: In his bedroom, a flora-and-fauna-studded headboard by artist Katie Stout rests atop a Madeleine Castaing–designed carpet. Photos by Brian W. Ferry
“The rug has depth and an abstract quality,” says Charlap Hyman. “When you put anything in front of it, it lends that dimensionality. I love finding disparate elements that come together in surprising and compelling ways.”
Camille Okhio, an Elle Decor editor who lives in Brooklyn, qualifies as a “time traveler,” Diaz-Griffith writes, referring to the way she hangs old embroidered panels against a spare background as if they were portals to the past.
Thirtysomething antiquarian and design writer-editor Camille Okhio says her generation approaches collecting objects with history “from a place of pure emotion.” In his book, Diaz-Griffith memorably describes her as “a visionary” who “seems to belong, like a sort of Time Lord, to all eras.” Photo by Brian W. Ferry
“When I buy something new, I want it to fill a hole emotionally or design-wise,” says Okhio. “I want to be writing by candlelight, let’s say, so I need the right candlestick.”
“In this generation, we’re collecting from a place of pure emotion,” she continues. “Maybe some are just creating vignettes for Instagram, but the people in Michael’s book have the education and have done the homework.”
Left: In Camille Okhio’s Brooklyn apartment, Earl Swanigan‘s portrait of the Our Gang character Alfalfa hangs above a 1940s dresser where an ancient Roman glass vial stands beside a Clam Lab bowl from the late 1990s. Right: A fragment of an antique embroidered panel hangs above a modern daybed, while close to the ceiling, a work by contemporary artist and designer Susan Cianciolo initiates a dialogue between textiles past and present.
A piece of ancient Roman glass dating to AD 120 was an auction purchase by Okhio that still astounds her. “These pieces are sometimes ways to converse with people who lived two thousand years ago,” she says. “I hold that piece in my hand and it transports my spirits. In a way, it’s a form of escapism.”
A connoisseur of classical styles, Collier Calandruccio runs Klismos Gallery out of his Brooklyn apartment. On the wall behind him is a 16th-century Flemish tapestry and an Italian giltwood sconce. At right is a rare Louis XIII settee covered in 17th-century cuir de Cordoue. Photo by Brian W. Ferry
As seen in the book’s photo of his home, he takes his classicism straight — no contemporary painting thrown in to make his place seem relevant. He does mix eras and countries, however, as with the Italian giltwood sconces that emerge from behind a 16th-century Flemish tapestry.
The pair of ca. 1806 parcel-gilt chairs set on an Oushak rug in Calandruccio’s salon are identical to a set supplied to the Earl of Eglinton for Coilsfield, a now-lost Regency estate in Scotland. To the left is an early-17th-century Tuscan scrittoio, which supports a bronze relief. The portrait of a man above the mantel is from the 1840s. Photo by Brian W. Ferry
Calandruccio has created a scheme that is elegant but also welcoming — and he feels that Diaz-Griffith is welcoming, too. “He managed to create a visual homily to this kind of collecting without the fire and brimstone,” Calandruccio says. “Even the staunchest minimalist would be intrigued — it’s not exclusionary. He wants to draw in new collectors.”
In Calandruccio’s view, “we’ve had our taste of disposable culture, and people are looking for that human connection, seeing the hand in things.”
Federal mahogany chest of drawers, early 19th century, offered by David Sterner Antiques Furniture
“Antiques have never been more affordable than they are today, and they are unmatched for quality of construction and inherently sustainable. With its scalloped skirt, this chest of drawers also has the advantage of being a bit playful — a quality that makes any object feel magically of the moment.”
Biedermeier Set of 6 armchairs, mid-19th century, offered by Silvio Piattelli Sas
“An instant collection, this dizzily mismatched set of 19th-century Biedermeier chairs would look fabulous around any table, antique or modern. I might reupholster the chairs in baby-blue silk moiré, repurposed quilt tops or a rowdy glazed-cotton chintz.”
Gerald Summers round dining table, 1930s, offered by Goldwood Interiors
“This is the perfect dining table, but being a contrarian, I would probably pair it with squiggly-legged chairs designed by Dagobert Peche, candy-color chinoiserie stools or something else unexpected — perhaps a set of yellow Baltimore ‘fancy’ chairs?”
Minton Majolica planter, early 20th century, offered by Linda Horn
“New Antiquarians like things that look like what they are not, and I am no exception. This planter might encourage me to keep my houseplants alive — something I struggle with otherwise!”
Adolf Loos for Friedrich Otto Schmidt Haberfeld table, 1899, offered by HPS DESIGN
“I trawl 1stDibs for objects that are difficult to find in the wider marketplace, such as this Haberfeld table by Adolf Loos. It sits happily at the intersection between classical and modern — and, to my delight, looks a bit like an alien creature.”
Josef Hoffmann for Wiener Werkstätte silver dish, 1920s, offered by Charme Antiques
“This Josef Hoffmann–designed silver dish would be the perfect wedding gift for a New Antiquarian, and they would never, ever stop thanking you for it.”
Gold posy ring, 17th–18th century, offered by Berganza
“Why stop at interiors? The New Antiquarians are collecting vintage and antique jewelry, too, and some are even opting for posy rings like this one instead of conventional wedding bands. If you’re nervous about wearing an antique ring (not that you should be — they’re sturdy), sport it on a chain à la Carrie Bradshaw.”
Vivienne Westwood Queen Elizabeth I corset, 1993, offered by Tab Vintage
“The New Antiquarians need clothes, too, and Vivienne Westwood — a designer equally interested in history, social liberation and climate justice — should probably be our patron saint.”
