Sunday, January 20, 2002		Article

IT seems to be boom time for the Indian antique and art market. Sotheby’s seems to be purring contentedly and kabariwallahs are well on their way to becoming socialites — and suddenly, that long neglected table in the corner is a prized possession.

Once restored to its pristine glory, antique furniture is not only chic, but also makes for a fairly solid investment. An entire interior can be built around a handsome table or couch. While purists may reel — or just cock an old-family eyebrow — that old dressing table may find the perfume jars and lipsticks replaced by bottles of ‘veerry-veerry expensive booze’ and that cast iron oil stove may well alight one day to find itself the drawing room and conversation centrepiece.

Furniture as we understand it today — chairs, tables and sofa sets is of relatively recent usage in India. It was a colonial import that stayed on after the tail coats had gone. At the same time, there are only a few truly old survivors — the tropical weather and vagaries of termites and their kin, have not allowed very much in wood to come down the decades. Something from the seventeenth and early eighteenth century — and still alive to tell the tale — would be like finding a dinosaur egg ready to pop. And it is only rarely that an antique item of metal, silver or brass, like a bed, appears on the market.

Colonial furniture drew heavily on Burma teak, Indian teak, walnut, sal, rosewood and occasionally, on Himalayan cedar and pine. Pieces in oak, mahogany or beech were rarely made in India and were imported. Furniture manufacturers based in London and Calcutta also added mass produced designs to the stocks created by individual craftsmen. And incidentally, I’m writing this sitting on a chair that is one of the thousands churned out from Calcutta, early this century. The cane (from Singapore) is all but gone, the Burma teak gives a comforting creak every now and then and all it has to recommend itself, is the innocent ugliness and steadfast solidity.

As the British empire spread over the Indian subcontinent, and sent out men and their families to remote corners, purchases were often done through catalogues sent out by large firms. An entire set of household furniture could roll up to the dusty doorstep on elephant back or bullock cart. The range encompassed grand pianos and silver salvers. As Indian princes and their scions were bunged off to Old Blighty, they consciously carried back a western lifestyle. The grand palaces were stocked with only the best, carpets, crystal or furniture. Interestingly — with a little gentle prodding from their British peers and associates — several princely families ordered their suites from overseas, while most government offices and residences, especially in the north, were supplied from the sarkari workshop at Bareilly. Most of the furniture in India copied British designs that belong to the Victorian and post-Victorian periods. American furniture designs were conspicuous by their absence, while some of the more florid baroque and rococo patterns were largely confined to the palaces of the former princes. Then, there was that loose genre of ‘colonial’ design that was drawn from parent patterns and developed in colonies like India. These were basically big and solid pieces meant to withstand the rigours of frequent postings and tropical weather and its insects — beds that resembled battleships and desks to withstand sieges.

Unbelievable as it may seem, there came a time when the pieces that had once adorned stately homes, found their way to dusty stores, kitchen fires and a spate of back-door pilferers. Only a few fortunate owners had their priceless pieces and dusting problems follow an unbroken lineage. As the plastic and tubes of the fifties and sixties gave way to the elegant lines of Scandinavian design, the demand for furniture also grew in the Indian market, quite in keeping with the growth of the middle classes and the increase in purchasing power. Then came the phase when ugly, ungainly copies tried to clumsily imitate some traditional designs. With an eye on the changing trend (and partially responsible for it), many dealers began scouring old mansions, tapping ‘gone-broke’ gentility and the old mofussil towns. They were able to pick up things like pianos and billiard tables for a song — even perhaps, the financial equivalent of a limerick. These were then restored, repaired and sold to an up-market urban clientele.

Today, thanks to that enterprise which, if nothing else, rescued pieces from certain doom, it is possible to pick up these antiques — or at least old furniture — from a host of periodic sales and from speciality dealers.

A few basic tips will help you distinguish the genuine article from a recently made imitation. Always check the underside or reverse for signs of wear and dirt. If anything looks like an add-on, it is likely to be a superficial ageing treatment given to a recent piece. Often, these parts are hit with a hammer or rod to give them a worn-out look. It is unlikely that even the most neurotic of owners would have systematically beaten the underside of a chair or a wardrobe-back over the decades. Do remember that these pieces were not always antique, but were once bought new.

The ‘patina’ of a piece refers to the polish, the little abrasions, the weathering, the little cuts and dents. A quick ageing can be done by applying polish and giving a quick rub when half-dry. The next coat of polish will partially reveal the patches of the earlier treatment. The result is a make-up of age. This is hard to detect and needs other indicators to establish the authenticity of age.

A silly thing often gives the tale away — the weight. Almost all those old pieces were murderously heavy. Then comes the carving. The really good pieces had the carving done in clear relief. No shortcuts and smudged flowers. Drawers made in those days were invariably dove-tailed. Nails were never used and screws arrived quite recently. Dowel pins were the standard fixing device.

When buying antique wooden furniture, go in for something that has not been modified. For example, the shell of an upright piano may become a liquor cabinet or a large cupboard or may have been cut into something smaller. These are innovations done on a damaged piece and are not the real thing.

The source is perhaps the single most important thing. If you are buying from a dealer, is he willing to vouch for its authenticity and give some sort of verifiable provenance? This is a tall order, but there is no harm in giving it a shot. The most reliable source remains the original owner of the piece, but then this source is not always available to all. The dealer’s credentials are important — and there are a few reliable ones in the metros. The prices may be higher, but its better paying that extra bit than being fobbed off with a fake.

If you have been lucky enough to get hold of something from a kabariwallah or elsewhere, do have the repairs done by an expert. It may cost a little extra but will be well worth the time, trouble and expense. If a section needs replacing or a piece to be slotted in, try to use only the wood that the original was made from. The same care needs to be taken while having it polished. Stick as closely to the natural stain as possible, it does cut out the margin for error.

It is critical to check that the piece is termite-free. The rot can only spread and may find its way to other pieces that you own.

Again, this is something that most purists do not approve of, but modern finishes — melamine and other epoxy-based polishes — do check further damage to most pieces.