Collecting antiques with a Berkshire County flavor

By Abigail Reifsnyder

To some people, Berkshire County is Tanglewood. To others, it is the Mohawk Trail. Some families have been here for generations; others come back as second-home owners fondly remembering their experiences at one of the many camps in the area. As many people as there are in the county, that's how many definitions of the Berkshires there are. What is quintessentially "Berkshire" to one person is irrelevant to another. So, given this diversity, how does one define collectibles and antiques as "Berkshire" or not? The answer is, of course, that any collection is personal, and is, by definition of the collector, whatever he or she says it is. Because first and foremost, a collection begins from the heart. People don't collect out of ambivalence. They collect because they care.

"A collection must be begun from the heart," says antiques dealer Joyce Coffman of Coffman Antiques in Great Barrington. "It must excite you, and excitement is usually wrapped around memories." Coffman herself collects tin sand pails from the Victorian era because, she says, "it reminds me of the beach which is a vivid memory for me."

A Berkshire collection could be anything, says antiques dealer Hilary Beadell of Stockbridge. "There is no right or wrong. A room full of 20 people would come up with 20 different kinds of ‘Berkshire' collections," she says. Or, as antiques dealer Charles Flint of Lenox puts it, "Value is in the eyes of the beholder." If you love it, then it's priceless.

For some people, says Beadell, the item they collect becomes less significant after a while than the hunt. "The high comes from looking and then finding what you're looking for," says Beadell.

The concept of a Berkshires collection is both too general and too personal to lend itself to easy definitions. You could start at the beginning, says Flint, with American Indian artifacts, or even earlier, with rocks and minerals. The early settlers saved things they traded with the Indians, so some things have survived. The problem with these kinds of things, as well as other items from the early settlers, would be establishing provenance. Though it might be fairly easy to date an item, establishing locale could be much more complicated, if not impossible. For a collection to be meaningful or valuable or both, the collector must be able to verify that what is in the collection is what she or he says is in it.

Some items would circumvent this problem by their very nature: Tanglewood programs, for example, would establish their own authenticity and value. A pristine program, or tickets from the program of one of Leonard Bernstein's performances would be highly valued by Tanglewood aficionados.

Items related to the many industries that used to exist in Berkshire County would be a way to go, but again the collector would need to be able to establish provenance. So, while proving that a piece of glass or paper or iron came from a local factory might be fairly tricky, an advertising poster put out by that factory would establish itself by the information contained in it.

Beadell calls such stuff "ephemera," printed materials that existed for a limited amount of time. Postcards would fall into this category. Flint's brother collects postcards from Lee, East Lee and Tyringham. He has an emotional connection, through family, to these towns, so postcards from these towns are collectible to him. In addition, they can be identified by their photographs as being what they claim. Posters, postcards, programs, even mess hall menus from the camps, would be fairly easy and financially feasible to collect.

Also accessibly priced is souvenir china -- china from the hotels and restaurants, particularly from the turn of the century when the "cottage" community was going strong. Such china and the accompanying silverware would, says Flint, have the name of the establishment on it, making it clear it is what it says it is. Beadell says restaurant china is always popular, particularly with foreign tourists who find the Berkshires more exotic than more local people might. Matchbooks are also collectible, and a person could collect ones only from area businesses, says Flint, to give the collection a Berkshire flavor.

There are, of course, more upscale things to collect: paintings by early area artists, books by local authors, books with the signatures in them of area writers such as Edith Wharton, Herman Melville or Nathaniel Hawthorne, Shaker furniture from the local communities -- but these things get more expensive and your competition for the items more intense as other collectors will be more savvy.

Whether you're collecting postcards or paintings, the first thing you must do is learn everything you can about your subject. You must develop what Flint calls "obsessive knowledge." People who collect a particular thing can tell you more about that object than most people care to know. Flint remembers getting a call from a couple in Springfield who'd found a bottle and were wondering about its value. Flint was able to tell them more than they ever expected because he himself collects bottles and has acquired over the years that obsessive knowledge.

You won't happen upon this knowledge, points out Beadell. "You can't casually learn a lot of this stuff," she says. It's not a matter or reading one book and now you're an expert. You've got to do the legwork. For most people these days, that legwork begins on the Internet. Coffman suggests beginning with a few searches to gather basic information. Collectors can learn a lot from watching what sells and for how much on eBay. The Berkshire Room at the Pittsfield library is a treasure trove of information, says Flint. He can disappear into there for hours. The Silvio Conte Archives can further a search about a particular person or business, says Flint. Coffman suggests local historical societies, which often have collected obscure information about the area.

All this research will help you take the next important step in building a collection: establishing parameters. You need controls on your collection, say all the dealers. The parameters need only make sense to you, reminds Flint. He collects inkbottles under 4 inches tall. Why? Because that's the size his shelf accommodates. He also collects Berkshire County jugs and crocks from before 1880, preferably 1850. The age parameter helps control his collection.

The condition of the object is also important and can help limit a collection. It also helps, says Coffman, with something she encourages collectors to do: upgrade the collection. When you find the mint condition 1850 crock, you unload the 1870 crock with the crack. That way your collection doesn't get out of hand even as it increases in value. Because it isn't the size of the collection that establishes its value. "What good is a collection of 5,000 frogs?" wonders Coffman.

The other important step in creating a collection is actually going to flea markets and antiques stores and networking with dealers and other collectors. First of all, this tells you what's out there and what price it might be fetching at the moment. It also puts your collection in the minds of dealers who may see more than you are likely to. Most dealers maintain "wish lists," items people are looking for that they in turn keep an eye out for. Says Flint, "If you collect Shaker chairs and you go into a shop with only glass, you ask the dealer -- because you don't know what they have in the back room or the attic. Always ask," he says.

This is also an excellent way to begin to acquire knowledge. Recently, a man came into Flint's shop who loves early American objects. Flint took him into his library (three walls of floor to ceiling shelves of books on antiques -- with a few more bookcases devoted exclusively to Berkshire County) and has him reading and learning. He predicts the man will develop that obsessive knowledge Flint says is the key to building a worthwhile collection. Obsessive is the operative word here. Flint remembers another man who collects 17th century boat models. He has more than 15 of them. "I've been in the business 36 years and never seen one," says Flint. A serious collector can find obscure objects that most people may never see. And that makes for an interesting collection -- as opposed to what Flint calls an "accumulation." Some people are pack rats and begin collections with no parameters. They are the ones who end up with 5,000 frogs.

But it doesn't matter how much you know, what good condition a piece is in or how rare it is if you don't like it, says Flint. Coffman agrees: Don't collect something because someone tells you to, she says. You'll lose interest and won't have any fun. And don't bet on your collection increasing in value. As Beadell says, "there must be an easier way to make money" than betting on antiques. A collection must begin from the heart -- and, as Flint says, your first purchase.