Vintage Philadelphia

♪ ♪ We all loved him when you brought him to the table.

We all, you know, "Wow."

I mean, he's quite an eyeful.

You're kidding.

APPRAISER: I am not kidding.

You spiced up my life, okay?

Thank you, Leigh.

(both laugh) They'll probably cut that, right?

Cut that-- that was corny.

♪ ♪ CORAL PEÑA: When "Roadshow" visited the City of Brotherly Love back in 2006, fans from near and far brought their timeless treasures to town.

MAN: I brought in my great- grandfather's arm, his prosthesis.

He had his arm shot off in the Civil War.

You're not kidding, are you?

No.

(laughs) PEÑA: Have the values of these unforgettable items gone up, down, or stayed the same?

Find out now as we take a fresh look at Philadelphia.

WOMAN: This was left to me by my mother from her mother.

APPRAISER: Do you wear it?

Not often.

Not often.

Do you think it's real?

Yes, I've been told that.

You've been told it's real, okay.

Well, you know what?

You were told correctly.

The original cut was around 1902 by a man named Joseph Asscher.

He invented this particular cut.

And when he invented it, it was unique, it was different.

It's always kind of octagon shape.

It almost looks like a hall of mirrors-- it reflects.

It is actually a precursor to the emerald cut.

And this became very popular cut in the '20s and '30s.

And then it just went out of fashion.

And now, it is the hottest thing in the diamond market.

But what makes this very unusual is the color-- it's yellow.

Yeah, we called it a "canary diamond."

That's what they called it.

That was, that was the term that was used.

Uh-huh.

But we know more now.

We don't use that term anymore.

Oh.

We actually look at it and decide how intense the color is.

Okay.

Now, it's hard to judge that intensity in the mounting.

So most people that have yellow diamonds like to know exactly, is it a fancy intense?

Is it a light fancy?

Is it a vivid?

And the darker the yellow is, the more valuable.

The hard thing about this diamond is to measure it, 'cause it has so many facets and cuts.

I came up with around 3.20, 3.25 carats.

Mm-hmm.

But that's an important size for an Asscher cut for a yellow diamond.

It's very hard to get that combination.

I've had only one small one in 26 years in the business.

So that tells you it's rare.

Yeah, okay.

The cut of that could have been as early as 1902.

I don't think so.

Mm-hmm.

I think it's probably from the '30s.

The diamond is set in a platinum pierced mounting.

Mm-hmm.

It's very delicate.

And it actually looks like the four prongs have been remounted, which makes sense, because after many years, it would loosen.

But it's a lovely setting for that type of stone.

Unfortunately, I don't know the maker of the mounting who put this together.

Do you have any idea where it might have originated from?

New York City.

Okay.

But the value, that's the hardest thing to put on this.

Yeah.

Is because we don't know exactly the color.

My feeling is that this could translate to a fancy intense.

Really?

And that makes it quite valuable, and I'm going to be very conservative.

I would say at auction today, $75,000 to $100,000.

Oh, my... You're kidding me?

No, I'm not kidding.

(laughs) And I'm being conservative.

Are you surprised?

Yes, shocked.

I can't... Well, I'm not going to wear it!

Why not?

Wear it!

'Cause I'm a teacher.

You're a teacher, oh, that's so good.

Where am I going to wear it, to the grocery store?

Nobody will believe it.

No, not at all.

WOMAN: I love going to thrift shops and consignment shops and treasure hunting.

And my husband and I walked into a consignment shop, and I saw parrot, and I had to have him.

He was just amazing.

Here in Philadelphia?

Right outside of Philadelphia.

Normally, if you find something in a thrift or a consignment shop, it's not going to be a whole lot of money.

How much did you pay for this one?

$50.

$50.

It's more than I usually spend, but... And how long ago did you buy him?

About two or three years.

Okay, well, he was modeled in Italy.

And it's hard to date him exactly, but he's early 20th century.

And there's a tradition in, uh, continental Europe of modeling large-scale birds and animals in ceramic, which dates back really to the Meissen porcelain works almost 300 years ago, where they made full-scale figures of animals and larger.

But he's not made in porcelain.

He's made in what they call in Italy "maiolica ware."

And maiolica is generically termed tin-glazed earthenware.

Now, all the colors in ceramics come from the action of metals or minerals that oxidize when they're being fired.

And tin, when it oxidizes, clouds white.

So it became a very successful way of covering a piece of earthenware to make it white, or effectively to make it look like porcelain.

You can see just in a few little spots where the glaze hasn't taken, you can see the natural color of the earthenware underneath, which is kind of a, a brick-red color.

There's a chip down here where you can see a larger section of it.

And that identifies it as most likely Italian, or certainly Mediterranean-made.

This is not a piece that we're going to be able to identify the manufacturer, the modeler, even the date, precisely.

But it doesn't really matter who modeled it or where and when it was made, because the value is as a decorative object.

And if someone wants a very large, white earthenware figure of a parrot, here it is.

And it's not an easy thing to find.

I think, if this was in an antique shop, you could certainly put a price on this of $2,000.

And I don't think that would be unreasonable.

No, it's great.

Um... We all loved him when you brought him to the table.

We all, you know, "Wow."

I mean, he's quite an eyeful.

APPRAISER: One of the finest things about Nakashima's work is the free edge.

The free edge is, is something that gives it extra value.

He made a lot of this style top, but it usually had three spindle legs.

What makes this table particularly valuable and particularly interesting is the base.

I've never seen this table with this base before.

I've seen this table with three legs, with four legs, with a myriad of different bases, but never this one.

It is Italian, it was made by the Doccia factory.

Now, Doccia was near Florence.

It was founded in 1735 by the Marquis de Ginori.

And this plate was painted somewhere around 1780.

That's great, thank you...

I've never seen a nicer one.

Almost all the time when you see these, you don't have the original pump.

You can see where it says "Hires" right on the top.

So that's the original pump, which really adds a lot to the value.

It appeals to all sorts of collectible people.

They love syrup dispensers, love antique advertising.

WOMAN: My mom bought a book for the '64 World's Fair.

And when we got it home and opened it up, in the back, we found these three prints.

Any idea what they are?

We just figured they're miniatures of probably larger posters advertising the fair.

That's pretty much accurate.

The World's Fair in 1939 in New York had these three, uh, primary images used to advertise them.

And they actually existed in two different sizes.

Yeah.

This being the smaller size-- and then there was a larger one we'd consider a standard poster size, which was about 30 inches high by 20 inches wide.

The first poster, by Albert Stahl, is important, because the woman who's illustrated is not just a woman at the fair who's waving at friends.

She's actually a World's Fair tour guide.

And you can see that because she's wearing an official World's Fair badge on her arm.

Then you have this piece by John Atherton, uh, which shows the two-- actually, they all show-- the two primary structures of the World's Fair, the Trylon and the Perisphere.

And then we come to the image by an Austrian artist who emigrated to America named Joseph Binder.

In the years leading up to the World's Fair, they held a competition.

This was the winning entry into the competition, and it is one of the most powerful and famous of all American Art Deco images, with the representation of the Trylon and Perisphere, the airplane, the train, the ship, the stylized spotlights in the sky.

It's fantastic.

I think that one's probably my favorite.

I would agree-- that's my favorite, also.

Yeah.

And it's really funny, too, because not only is it our favorite one, but it's also, I think, the most valuable one.

Um, this means we have good taste.

(laughing) At least you do-- look how I'm dressed.

Um, now, tell me again, these came out of a book for the 1964 World's Fair, which... How much was paid for that book?

Uh, ten dollars.

I would estimate the value on this one at $700 to $1,000.

(both laughing) Wow.

And I would estimate the value on these at $400 to $600.

WOMAN 2: Oh, my goodness.

Okay?

So you're talking about $1,500 worth of small posters for the price of a ten-dollar pop-up book.

You've brought in this model, or maquette, for a sculpture by Alexander Calder.

How did you, uh, come to own this?

My father was in possession of it for many years.

He was in a metal fabricating shop in Watertown, Connecticut, near where Alexander Calder lived.

And Alexander Calder brought this in to the shop and said, "Can you make this?

"I've been commissioned by the U.S. government to do something for the Brussels World's Fair in 1958."

So they said, "Yup."

And the full-size stands about 22 foot tall.

I can remember standing next to the actual thing in the shop before it was shipped over.

It was dismantled after the Brussels World's Fair and stored in a museum basement somewhere, and only in the last, I think, seven years has it been brought out and put on display again in Brussels.

Well, Alexander Calder is a very, very famous 20th-century American sculptor.

His father was a sculptor and was born in Philadelphia, as was Calder himself.

Yep.

His father had an academic background, traditional French training.

Calder went to the Stevens Institute of Technology, so he had a more scientific background.

And you brought in the photograph of it at the World's Fair.

I don't know if it's before or after the World's Fair, but there were water fountains all around it.

And then you brought in this article that shows the piece.

Here it is before it was painted.

So it was hammered out of aluminum and then painted black.

Calder is famous for making what we call stabiles, but also, he's the inventor of the mobile.

This piece, uh, was meant to revolve.

There was a motor in it.

It revolved once a minute, like that.

And it's on the carved wood base.

His work is very, very desirable, very, very, uh, collectible.

One of the things, though, they're easy to fake.

These are cut with tin snips out of a sheet of, you know, out of sheet metal.

(laughs): Yep.

And they're painted with household paints.

Mm-hmm.

So, even though you do have this impeccable provenance-- in fact, this article mentions the maquette-- I would encourage you to contact the Calder Foundation, and they would give you a letter of authenticity.

I think a conservative auction estimate at this time would probably be in the $50,000 to $75,000 range.

Really?

Oh, my.

(laughs) Oh, my.

WOMAN: My late husband, uh, it was in his family.

And all we've ever known about it is that it's a Venetian glass bowl, and it was classified in their mind as a family heirloom.

It's been in my possession now for 50 years, so... Did someone in your family travel a lot?

Did your husband's parents?

Well, you see, originally, both sides of our family came from England.

Mm-hmm.

From the, from the British Isles, should I say-- Scotland, England.

Do you think they went to Austria?

(chuckles) Um...

It's possible, but I don't know.

Okay, the reason I'm asking is because this is actually an Austrian bowl.

It was made by a company named Loetz.

The company was based in Austria.

The type of work that we see on this bowl was done from about 1898 into the early 20th century.

The thing about Loetz is that when the pieces were made for export, they were signed.

When they weren't made for export, they were unsigned.

So I have a feeling that somebody went to Austria to pick up this piece.

Not only do you have the bowl, but you have this beautiful bronze holder.

Oftentimes, you'll see Loetz that's been mounted in silver and sometimes just gilt metal, but this is bronze.

So this is a little more important than what we normally see.

The company that oftentimes made the mounts was called Orivit.

There are no marks on the bottom of this, either, which leads me to believe that both companies were not intending to export this.

Sometimes, the glass is confused with the work of Louis Comfort Tiffany because of the gold iridescence that you see on the inside here.

Okay.

But the decoration on the outside, this oil spotting-- and that's what you see with the little, the green spots on it... Oh, yeah.

That's clearly a decorative motif that Loetz used and Tiffany did not.

In a retail shop, this would sell for between $1,500 and $2,000.

Oh, wow.

That's great.

MAN: It was a gift from my mother about 40 years ago.

She actually bought the collection at a house sale in Westchester County-- White Plains, New York, somewhere in that area.

Okay.

So, what we have is a magazine called "Camera Work."

And on the table, we have five issues.

But, in fact, you have how many of them?

Uh,, there were 22 issues that I have, plus a supplement.

23 in total.

Plus the Steichen Supplement, which is right here.

Yes, right.

It started January '03, and my last issue is April '08.

"Camera Work" is the pre-eminent art journal of the 20th century.

It was edited and published by Alfred Stieglitz, who was a champion of fine art photography when photography was ridiculed in the art world and art press.

And he was not adverse to featuring his own works.

Mm-hmm.

If we open this first issue, we see this very beautiful image, warm-toned photogravure.

Stieglitz had actually been trained in the photogravure process, because when he told his father in the 1890s that he wanted to be a fine art photographer, his father was so horrified that he said, "You have to develop a skill.

You need a trade."

And so Stieglitz, being interested in photography, learned the art of making photogravures, which is the most sophisticated of the printing techniques.

So, Stieglitz oversaw the creation of the many, many images that are in these different issues of the magazine.

"Camera Work" was available by subscription, and the cost was six dollars a year.

And each year, three or four different issues would be published, and those issues would reflect works by many different photographers.

Another one of the photographers that was championed by Stieglitz was Clarence White.

And we can see that Clarence White's photograph was reproduced on a very thin paper known as Japan tissue.

One of the reasons that "Camera Work" is so prized is the delicacy of these very beautiful reproductions.

The last issue features a reproduction of an Edward Steichen photograph called "The Pond."

The original photograph recently sold at auction for over $3 million.

Wow.

So when we see a reproduction in "Camera Work," which was a very limited edition, we can certainly imagine a price in the $10,000 range.

I've seen all 23 issues that you brought in.

In terms of putting an auction estimate on it, my estimate would be $60,000 to $90,000.

It's an extraordinary group of materials with a full range of artistic reproductions by the masters of photography.

So, thank you very much for bringing it in.

It just really made my day.

Thank you-- it made my day, as well.

It's from the '50s, it was made in '50s.

I think it's a, I think it's a handmade, custom-made piece.

The ring that shows an engagement ring and a wedding ring together, it's got a, a design that's sort of unique.

APPRAISER: It's actually made by Kurdish people.

These are folk art-- it's people interpreting the traditions of what they've always woven plus what they see around them.

As you can see here, these diamonds have little people.

In Northwest Persian Caucasian rugs, you see a lot of little people used as filler elements.

This was probably made for the World's Fair... Mm-hmm.

By a Japanese company called Kinkozan, and that's their mark here on the underside.

And Kinkozan was a Japanese company that specialized in this type of ware.

WOMAN: This chair came down through my family.

It's one of a set of three that my grandmother had.

And I know it was made by William Savery.

And one of the three that my aunt inherited... APPRAISER: Yes.

...actually had the William Savery label on it.

Well, William Savery is one of the most famous makers there is in 18th-century furniture, so I got pretty excited when I saw this.

(laughs) And this is his, uh, his signature style.

It's a maple rush seat chair.

This serpentine crest, absolutely beautiful.

The vase splat, the cabriole legs with angular knees and the feet are classic Savery based on the labeled one not only that your family used to have...

Okay.

But also, we sold one for over $140,000 with a label on it-- a labeled one.

Whew!

Labeled one.

Now, this isn't labeled.

Right.

But the great thing is, like a painting's attributions, it's so distinctive in style, and the fact that this is tiger maple and it has the original finish, this... You see this black color?

Right.

I can safely say that I would estimate this single chair at about $30,000 to $40,000.

Whoa.

As a single-- look at that shape.

Look at those legs.

It's a beautiful chair.

I've always admired just its form.

Great.

MAN: My wife, before I met her, was going around with this guy here.

He lives in California now.

He's married and long gone out of her life.

APPRAISER: Right.

It was an off-and-on relationship.

They had a falling-out-- they had a number of falling-outs.

But during one particular period, he thought a clever way to get back with her would be to give her a Picasso autograph if he could get it.

So he wrote to the famous columnist for the "Herald Tribune" and for the "Philadelphia Evening Bulletin," Art Buchwald.

Asked Art Buchwald in a very funny letter, begged him, "Please get Picasso's autograph for me.

"That would make my girlfriend very happy, and we'd be back together."

Well, it was a slow time in Paris at the "Herald Tribune," so Art Buchwald decided he would do a column about this.

And he said, "Maybe Picasso will come through on it this."

Well, sure enough, Douglas Duncan, a photographer friend of Buchwald's and also a very close friend of Picasso's, was with Picasso, and he read the column in the Paris newspaper.

And he read it to Picasso, who was painting.

Picasso supposedly put down his paintbrushes.

Right.

Said, "Hand me a piece of paper and some pencils."

And he did this colored drawing here.

And he signed it, "Pour Miss Gloria Segall."

That was my wife's maiden name.

Right.

He signed it "Picasso."

And then a telegram came to Harvey Brodsky back in Philadelphia.

The newspapers, all the newspapers were talking about this.

It was the first time that Picasso had ever done anything like this.

The irony of it, of course, is that he's out of the picture now, right?

Right.

I married her.

And, therefore, I married into a family with a Picasso.

It's a wonderful color crayon drawing by Picasso.

You see it is dated in the lower right, uh, 1958.

And it was done in Cannes, France.

The dedication to your future wife.

And you can see, also, that it has fold marks on it to be put into a letter.

It's not exactly true that it's uncommon for Picasso to have done this.

Specifically, it's more uncommon for him to have done something like this to help a man try to regain the love of a woman.

But Picasso actually drew a lot of designs like this on the front of books and exhibition covers for shows that he did.

So we do see them quite often.

We have sold checks in the amount of a dollar that Picasso would get, do a drawing on the back, cash the check.

Really?

And so the check would go back to the person who'd have a Picasso drawing.

So he was in the practice of doing quick drawings like this.

And, you know, the envelope that this came in-- which I cannot find, is misplaced-- the stationery was Picasso's personal watermark stationery.

You could hold it up to the light, and you could see his name... Actually, you said it.

You had, you had taped it on the back of the frame?

We wanted to keep them together.

Of course, they didn't wind up together.

So it was taped on here?

Right, it was taped on there, and it had, uh, the color pencils used on the front, like, as little stripes around the edge.

So you don't, you don't know where the envelope is?

It's somewhere-- we're gonna look for it.

Okay, so you actually have two drawings by Picasso.

You can only find one at the moment.

Exactly.

(both laughing) So have you had any occasion to have the drawing appraised or...?

Many years ago, I took it to a traveling clinic that came around to different hotels.

Picasso was still alive, and at the time, it was estimated to be six... worth about $6,000.

And they said the one good thing about it was all this authenticity.

The background documentation really does help this and really any other work of art like this.

At auction, today, I would say a drawing like this has a value of about $12,000 to $18,000.

With all that background documentation and the story that you have for it, with all the characters who were involved in this-- Art Buchwald and Douglas Duncan-- I would put its auction value at $15,000 to $20,000.

Wow.

That's good to know-- I can't wait to tell my wife.

(laughs) Well, it's not... And even that value doesn't mean so much in that, you got the lady.

That's right, that's the most important thing.

APPRAISER: You told me some interesting stories about your mother, who used to own this painting.

MAN: Right.

When she was a girl, she was an artist, but she couldn't become an artist because she was a child of the Depression.

So she became a nurse.

She wanted to be a race car driver, but couldn't do that.

And we moved back to New York.

And this painting hung for, since my childhood, in our apartment in the South Bronx.

When I left there to live overseas, this went into storage.

When I got back, it went into our basement.

My wife wouldn't let it go on the wall.

She didn't like it very much.

And when we got the tickets to come down here today, we took this as an afterthought.

As a boy, I used to look at the scene, and I'd imagine myself going down that pathway.

I looked up the name of the, of the painter, and I found that he died in 1953.

We think perhaps your mother, being an artist, might have known the artist, George Sotter, because in the signature here, it says, "Compliments of..." And also this mysterious inscription, "To Horny," which we're not sure what that... She would never talk about it.

Um, she was a very adventurous woman, and I can't say for certain whether or not that was her nickname or not.

Right.

But it wouldn't surprise me.

Well, Sotter was born in 1879 in Pittsburgh.

Oh.

And he started out in stained glass.

He actually became nationally known for the stained-glass windows he did.

Then he went to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts to study, where he met Edwin Redfield, who was his teacher and became a lifelong friend.

And Redfield is known as one of the leading painters in the New Hope School.

And although we're not sure where exactly this was located, it definitely relates to that subject matter of New Hope and Bucks County.

After he studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Art, he went back to the Carnegie Institute and taught there for a while.

But then he and his wife moved in 1919 to Holicong, Pennsylvania, which is where he stayed until he died.

This picture, it's got this great dappled sunlight.

It is so dirty, it's got, like, a layer of nicotine throughout.

Once this is cleaned, it's gonna be a completely different picture.

You might even want to take it out of the basement.

(chuckles) Especially when I tell you that if it were sold at auction, it might bring between $120,000 and $180,000.

You're not kidding.

I'm not kidding.

(quietly): Okay.

You promised not to have a heart attack, though.

(laughs) Will you bring it up to the living room?

Tonight.

(both laugh) I think my wife will let me take it out of the basement now.

Oh, good.

Now that's... No, I didn't know that.

I didn't know that at all.

I don't know what to say.

I... other than... She would be very happy.

Thank you very much.

Right.

Thanks so much for bringing it in today.

You're not kidding, are you?

No.

(laughs) MAN: Well, I brought in my great-grandfather's arm.

(laughs): It's a prosthesis.

He had his arm shot off in the Civil War.

APPRAISER: Mm-hmm.

And... And this is the gentleman?

And this is my great-grandfather, Thomas Jefferson Kraut.

He was in the Third Pennsylvania Cavalry.

Very famous regiment.

If you notice, this photograph was taken on Market Street in Philadelphia, which is basically where we're at today.

It's a nice full image of your ancestor in his uniform.

The cavalry-style shell jacket is what pattern that's called.

The gold piping on his coat denotes the cavalry branch of service.

Nice, clear, full image.

When they made that picture, it would actually have been black-and-white, and they hand-tinted it.

And what do we have here?

Well, this is a neckerchief holder that was carved out of a soup bone in Libby Prison.

He was taken prisoner in 1862.

And one of his fellow prisoners carved this in the prison.

On this side, we have his name.

On this side, we have "Libby, 1862."

Libby Prison was a Confederate prison camp in Richmond, Virginia.

Wonderful piece of folk art and prisoner-of-war art.

Did he lose his arm before he went to prison?

No, he was actually exchanged, and then went back to fight with his outfit, and he lost his arm in the Battle of Mine Run.

It was very popular during the Civil War in the early days to exchange prisoners and go back into service.

If we turn it over, we actually have a Civil War patent date.

It's patented in 1863.

And it says, "Lincoln's patent."

Yes, I always wondered about that.

Right.

Not Abe, a different Lincoln.

A different Lincoln, okay.

But it's nice to have that little mark on there.

Do you know how he came about getting this arm?

No, I didn't, I just thought the service provided that.

He was in two service hospitals.

Well, this one is actually better than what he would have gotten on Army money.

This is a real high quality.

It's hand-carved wood.

We have the enamel paint.

And it's actually... maneuverable.

You have a hand that's removable.

Also, if you push the button, the arm tilts down.

And we have a leather covering over the joint.

It has vent holes on each side to let the arm breathe.

Would have had, like, a shoulder halter to go over the top-- it's a great piece.

Have you ever had these pieces appraised?

No, nobody knew anything about it.

Right.

This was kept in the closet for 100 years, maybe.

Right.

In the same house.

Everybody was afraid of it.

Right.

(laughing) Used it for jokes for years.

Really?

Oh, yeah.

On Halloween and so forth.

If we work from top to bottom, we have the image that would be probably a $400 to $600 image.

We have the carved neckerchief slide, which would be another $400 to $500.

And the arm, to a Civil War or a medical collector, would probably be somewhere in the $1,000 to $1,500 range.

Wow.

So, as a group-- I'm sure with it being an ancestor, it wouldn't be something you'd get rid of.

No.

So, for insurance purposes, you need to insure it between $2,500 and $3,000 as a group.

Wow, great, well, thank you very much.

You're more than welcome.

It's possible that he got a better-made one after the war, 'cause if he could afford this during the war, the financial situation was only going to get better, which could explain why he wasn't buried with this arm.

What we have here is a New York Yankees hat.

Um, it's from the 1950s.

Here's Phil Rizzuto's name written in the lining right here.

Well, there is no more collectible hats than New York Yankee caps.

Those are little pieces of wood that they cut from cigar boxes, and each one of those is chipped out by hand with a pocket knife.

But the thing that takes it over the top-- not only the fact that it's got so much three-dimensional stuff going on-- is that it's painted.

People that collect folk art, they love this crackly, dry paint surface.

You know about Susan Eakins?

Yes, we do.

Uh, obviously, the wife of Thomas Eakins.

Yeah, she was the wife of Thomas Eakins, and an artist in her own right.

This painting itself was in the Pennsylvania Academy of the Arts exhibition, a 1973 exhibition.

That makes this a much more important painting, because you have the inclusion in an important retrospective.

APPRAISER: You've brought us some scrimshaw teeth here.

Where did you get them?

MAN: Well, they belonged to my great- great-great-grandfather.

Mm-hmm.

He was a ship's captain uh, sailing out of New England.

Uh-huh.

He was a merchant marine.

He probably picked it up at one of the ports as a souvenir.

I've never seen a polychrome pair as good as this before.

They're just wonderful.

And we're seeing this, uh, gentleman and lady on the front.

Mm-hmm.

Uh, but I think the backs of them are the decoration that's really spectacular.

And this is a wonderful ship.

And you can see the whalers heading out with their harpoons, and there are birds flying above.

Mm-hmm.

We see the whalers actually encountering a whale.

Mm-hmm.

It just shows what an incredibly dangerous job... Mm-hmm.

that these sailors had had.

I would probably estimate them in the $30,000 to $50,000 range.

Mm-hmm, great.

Sound good?

Yup, family's proud.

Good!

MAN: It's a painting by William Robinson Leigh.

On the back, it says, "Navajo Camp Number One."

It came down through the family.

My great-grandmother bought it at an estate sale probably in about 1940.

APPRAISER: Do we know what she paid at that time?

Not a clue.

Later on, when we took the back off, we found what was original price was, which was $65.

I see.

Now, by the time my grandmother bought it, it was the Depression, and I suspect she paid even less than $65.

(laughs): That's probably true.

William Robinson Leigh is one of the most important Taos painters, and he lived from 1866 to 1955.

He was originally from West Virginia, and he was the son of Southern aristocrats.

And his mother was a descendant of Pocahontas.

Oh, wow.

He studied at the Maryland Institute, and then went on to Munich, uh, to study at the Royal Academy there.

And when he came back to the United States, he worked as an illustrator.

He doesn't really go out west until about 1906.

And during that period, he did a whole series of paintings for the Santa Fe Railroad, mostly scenes of the Grand Canyon.

They're quite famous today.

Later in his life, in the 1920s, he actually goes to Africa, and he ends up painting elephants and murals for Eastman Kodak and for the American Museum of Natural History.

So, he was, he was quite versatile, but Western art is really what he's known for.

And what we have here is a more or less everyday scene that he might have witnessed when he was out west.

He liked to paint primarily Indian tribes, uh, Zunis, Hopis, and Navajos.

The composition is really quite interesting, particularly because of the luminous quality, the fire that we see here.

And also, the wonderful texture on the surface.

This painting is on canvas board, which is a prepared type of board, so it has a canvas texture, but we have nice impasto here.

The piece itself is slightly smaller than some of the works that he does.

And in fact, it could be considered somewhat of a sketch, because if we look at this figure here, we see that the face is not quite as delineated as the other is.

But what's great about this is the play of light and shadow.

It's really wonderful.

The condition on the painting is actually quite good.

It has a little bit of flaking.

All these little white dots here.

Yes.

So the surface is a bit dry, and probably should be restored before you lose too much more of it.

And I do think it might clean a little bit.

The frame is original, and that's terrific.

I'm not sure we can determine who the maker is, but this type of frame was very popular, on Taos paintings, in particular.

And I would judge that this painting was probably done somewhere in the 1920s.

Now, in terms of the market, the market for Taos paintings is quite strong, very, very popular.

Do you have any idea what the painting is worth?

Well, I have an idea from about 20 years ago.

At that time, $10,000 to $12,000.

Well, at that time, that probably was right.

Western art has been popular pretty much consistently, although there was a drop-off in, in, uh, Western prices in the late '70s and early '80s.

Today, if I were to have this painting in my gallery, I would ask $75,000.

Geez!

The market has really... (laughs) Well, I promised that I wasn't going to say, "Oh, my God," but, oh, my God!

(laughs) WOMAN: This has been in my family forever.

I remember it growing up, always on a table in the corner, and it was something that's always been kind of treasured by our family members.

My father traced it back to 1750.

APPRAISER: Okay.

I saw a little inscription on a piece of paper that said... Weiss, yes.

Jacob Weiss.

He was a pretty well-known colonel in Philadelphia, German descent.

And he would have been able to afford a special thing like this.

They were really popular in England in the 17th century.

And in America-- in Boston, in Connecticut, in that area-- spice boxes became unpopular.

Down in Pennsylvania, they kept making them.

I believe that this was probably made right here in Philadelphia.

Wow.

It was made somewhere between, I'd say, about 1765 and 1780.

Now, they were sometimes made out of curly maple.

They were sometimes made out of black walnut, American black walnut, which is a local wood.

Hmm.

That would be more expensive.

And really, really, really rarely, they were made out of mahogany.

Mahogany.

And this box...

I was gonna say cherry, no?

This box is actually made out of, of figured mahogany.

It's got all the...

If you look at this, these figured panels here, these applied arch panels which are on these mahogany doors, and come down to this molded base with a drop pendant.

And this is really rare.

They rarely have a drop pendant.

Okay.

They were usually just plain here, or they had bracket feet.

But to have the ogee bracket feet, and the drop pendant-- that's really special.

And then the mahogany, as I said, was expensive, 'cause it had to be imported.

Imported.

It didn't grow here.

They had these escutcheons in the front, which were... would have been ordered from Birmingham to lock this.

Mm-hmm.

And during the time when they did put spices in it...

Right.

The spices were worth as much as the box.

Now, this is what, really, I get excited about, okay?

The fact that when you open up these, these mahogany doors, what's in the very center that's unbelievable?

This drawer?

That drawer.

Yeah.

I did some quick homework.

We can't find any spice boxes with a fan there.

With that design?

This fan turns up on desks from the 18th century from Philadelphia and this area.

Yeah.

And to find it on the inside of a spice chest, with that punch work... Do you see that wonderful punch work in there?

Oh, yeah.

Isn't that neat?

It's really special.

I mean, this is a top end.

This was, like, a deluxe model.

Look at the sides here.

Mm-hmm.

Yellow pine.

And it's a locally-grown wood.

Look at the thinness of them.

They're usually about another eighth of an inch thicker.

See how fine that is?

Mm-hmm.

And the detailing on the dovetails.

It's just absolute, absolute quality.

Everything here is what you want to see.

It looks like it wasn't made long ago, because it's been protected from the air.

So value-wise, any, any idea?

Well, what I was doing in the basement, looking for pictures and things that went with this...

Right, yes.

I did find an appraisal from 1967 done in Philly.

1967, for how much?

For $5,000.

$5,000 in 1967.

Today, this box, because it has the double panels, because it has the drop pendant... Mahogany?

Because it's mahogany, because it has that shell-- all those things added up, all the extras-- that would make the spice box worth, let's say retail, $85,000.

Wow.

Yeah, $85,000 just as it is.

Yeah, wow.

Now, do you know who cleaned it ever?

My father always took great care of it.

He took care of it.

I haven't done a thing to it.

Because it's such a treasured item, okay.

Exactly, he was, very much loved it.

Well, on 18th-century furniture like this, you like... You don't do that, right?

Well, you like to see it, you like to see it grungy.

If this were grungy?

Yeah.

Guess, guess what this would be.

Don't tell me.

(laughs) Well, can I?

Do you mind?

No, go ahead.

I, you, you can add 100.

Wow.

Add $100,000.

Wow.

It would be $185,000 easily.

Wow, that's a big difference.

But, but still, 85, and you spiced up my day.

That's kind of nice.

That's nice.

I know that's corny, but you spiced up my life, okay?

Thank you, Leigh.

(both laugh) They'll probably cut that, right?

Cut that-- that was corny.

This is Milt Caniff, the cartoonist, and my father.

My father was a cartoonist in high school, in Lima, Ohio.

Went to Ohio State.

And Milt was from Hillsboro, and went to Ohio State.

And Dad said, "Well, if my buddy Milt is this good, maybe I better do something else for a living."

So he went into advertising.

He was in advertising in Columbus, Ohio, and was president of the Advertising Club in 1946, and asked Milt to come out.

By that time, Milt was the cartoonist for "Terry and the Pirates."

And so, he called Milt, and Milt said, "Well, I'll do you one better.

"I'll come out to Columbus, and I'll introduce my own comic strip to you, my new one."

So he came to Columbus, to the club, and in front of all the club, he started to draw this.

And he drew Steve Canyon, Copper Calhoon, and Fitafita.

And that was really the introduction before the comic strip.

And, of course, he gave it to my father afterwards.

My father let me take it to college for two years to hang on my wall.

Amazing-- you know, Milton Caniff, one of the greatest of all comic strip artists.

Yeah.

He was called the Rembrandt of the comic strip.

Right.

One of the most popular of all time.

In 1946, he had just finished "Terry and the Pirates," which was probably the most popular comic strip at that time.

Right.

But he wanted to own his own comic strip characters.

Exactly.

So he came up with "Steve Canyon."

Right.

Which would become a very, very popular strip.

Right.

And it would run for over 40 years, right up until his death, uh, 1988.

Right.

So here's Steve.

I really feel sorry for Steve, don't you?

Yeah.

(laughs) It's a tough life.

Yeah, a tough life-- it's an amazing, amazing drawing.

It's pastel on paper.

Right.

Look at the colors, they just pop out.

I mean, these are 60 years old-- it's just beautiful.

When I saw it, my eyes lit up-- I love comic strip stuff.

Yeah.

And this is just so cool, and it's huge.

Yes.

It's, you know, it's three-foot by four-foot.

Yes.

What makes it even more special is the fact that this is his debut, you know?

Yes.

This is the first appearance of Steve Canyon.

Yes, it is.

I wouldn't insure it for anything less than $10,000.

Really?

Absolutely.

It's, it's a masterpiece by a master comic strip artist.

Well, it has a lot of sentimental value.

APPRAISER: This is the pinnacle for a, a tile collector and a Grueby collector to want this tile.

It's a really great example.

I would agree with your assessment that these were made by Herman Mueller.

He was really one of the most terrific modelers and tile makers in this country.

I mean, he was a German émigré.

He would pen-incise these pieces and choose these beautiful glazes with matte textures.

This is a map from the end of the 17th century, about 1690.

And it's a very, very decorative map.

That was a period when the, the Dutch-- which, this is a Dutch map-- were making just gorgeous maps.

Some of the geography is made up, and that's what people like-- not just the decoration, but the mythical geography that isn't accurate.

WOMAN: My mother bought the ring about 20 years ago.

I think she paid around $500.

It was in a little jewelry store that had an estate piece section.

And we think it's a cabochon emerald, and that's all we know.

Okay, did you know the diamonds are real?

Uh, hoping.

You didn't even... You didn't even know that?

Okay.

Well, it is yellow gold, and the diamonds are all set in platinum.

This ring has all the earmarks of being fantastic.

All this is hand-set, hand-done.

The ring is handmade-- it's not cast.

It's a one-of-a-kind.

But I'm sad, sad to tell you that the stone is not real.

(laughs) Now, this stone is a top-grade French glass.

And the French were magnificent in making glass.

Right.

And they made the emeralds, the rubies and the sapphires...

It fools us all the time.

When I first saw this, I thought it was real.

(laughs) And that's why I grabbed it off your hands, see?

Right, right.

So, you can get a real emerald for this, but you're gonna pay a lot of money to match that color.

Oh, sure, sure, sure.

So just don't tell anybody that it's not real.

No.

(laughs) And you can go on.

$500 is a very fair price for the whole ring.

Mm-hmm.

If the emerald was real, see, it would be another $10,000.

(laughs) But it's not that.

Will you still enjoy the ring?

I will.

Did you ever ask your mother if she knew it was glass?

She didn't know-- she didn't know.

Oh, she also didn't know.

But when you said, "Here, wait here," and we waited, I said, "It's either good or bad that you get put on TV."

(laughs) MAN: I got a couple of paintings I got at a yard sale.

APPRAISER: And how much did you pay for them?

$35 for the pair.

And have you ever had them appraised at all?

I did have them appraised one time.

My, my wife worked at the library, and they had an appraisal fair going on.

And I took them down there to have them appraised.

And the lady said, uh, worth about $800, $900 for the pair of them, and if I wanted to sell them, she knew somebody who would buy them off me.

And do you know who the artist is?

Yeah, I believe it's John F. Kensett.

John Frederick Kensett, a major American artist.

Hudson River School, Luminist School, 19th century.

These are beautiful small landscapes.

And he was probably best known for painting in Rhode Island.

And these are both painted with oil on artist board.

Now, these are not signed, but each of them has a little inscription in the lower right-hand corner inscribed to someone.

This one says, "Louis Parmley, from J.F.

Kensett," and then a date in July of 1853.

The other one is similarly inscribed but with the initials JFK, typical for a Kensett.

The American market is very, very strong at this point.

And I've consulted with my colleagues at the painting table, and we feel that they're perfectly right for Kensett and that I think a very conservative estimate at auction would be $30,000 to $50,000 each.

$30,000 to $50,000 each?

$30,000 to $50,000 each.

Wow.

Holy moly.

I was 12 and was in my mother's, uh, and father's attic, and I came across it amongst trash and things, and decided it looked wonderful and put it in a plastic bag and stuck it in my toy chest.

And then, when I got married, I brought it out to, to move with me.

And my father was very surprised at the fact that I had it, but that I kept it in such good condition.

And he officially said it was mine.

How did it come into your family?

My great-great-uncle, who traveled out west, came back with this.

I don't know where out west.

All I know is it was from his trips.

Okay, this is what they refer to as a Germantown weaving.

It's aniline-dyed wool.

Right after the Civil War, when they started moving the Native Americans off their tribal lands... Mm-hmm.

Uh, the Navajo were moved, and their sheep herds became decimated.

So to keep the weaving tradition alive, three- and four-strand aniline-dyed, which is chemically-dyed wool-- these bright colors-- was imported from Germantown, Pennsylvania.

Oh.

The factories are approximately about six miles from where we're standing today.

Wow, so where do you think it was actually woven?

They held a, a large region.

Okay.

The Four Corners region.

So where New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Colorado line up.

Okay.

Now, the traditional weaving authorities thought this was the downfall of Navajo weaving.

The Navajos loved it.

It gave them this wild array of colors to work with.

They get them home from the Southwest, they didn't look right in the homes around here.

Yes.

And they just, like, fall into disrepair, go to Woodstock.

I mean, people use them as, as beach blankets.

(laughs) You know, they just didn't survive.

A rug like this, if it was to come to auction today, would probably sell in the $15,000 to $17,000 range.

(laughs) So, do you think your dad's still gonna be okay?

Yeah.

All right.

He'll want it insured now.

(laughs) What about... What about the siblings?

Are they gonna be okay that they didn't find it in the attic?

That's well done-- I was 12 and they knew I had it.

It's over, it's so over.

Water under the bridge.

Okay.

(laughs) WOMAN: My mother found it in my grandmother's house in Dayton, Ohio, back in around the 1960s, when they were settling up their estate.

APPRAISER: Right.

It was up in the attic.

Nobody else knew it was there, and when she brought it down, everyone wanted it.

Uh, she had it for the rest of the time, and we have it, and we love it.

Do you know who did this chair?

Haven't a clue.

Do you have any idea about this chair at all?

I have no idea, I've never seen anything like it, and that's why I brought it here.

All right, great, well, let me show you.

On the back of the chair, we have a mark, and it's an R with a vertical saw.

Right.

That's the maker's mark for a very famous Arts and Crafts maker named Charles Rohlfs.

No kidding.

And Charles Rohlfs was a very eccentric man.

Unlike a lot of the Arts and Crafts other makers, he worked only in a studio with himself and a few apprentices.

Gustav Stickley, a lot of the other people at the same time, had large factories, but Charles Rohlfs worked individually.

He made all kinds of unusual things, and he really pushed the boundaries of Arts and Crafts.

The whole design is very radical.

Most time, Charles Rohlfs worked in oak, quarter-sawn oak, regular straight-grained oak.

This chair is mahogany, which makes it very interesting, also.

Uh, very rare for Charles Rohlfs to work in mahogany.

Also, the style-- it's not very practical-- it was the thought of furniture as sculpture.

And this chair, as you can see, really goes a long ways in blurring those boundaries between furniture and art.

There is a little bit of damage on this chair.

It does not appreciably affect the price.

Charles Rohlfs furniture is very rare.

And it's absolutely, absolutely sought-after by the best collectors in America.

This chair, in mahogany, is worth between $80,000 and $120,000 at auction.

(breathlessly): You're kidding.

I am not kidding.

Really?

I am not, I am not kidding.

That's unbelievable.

Yeah.

Absolutely unbelievable.

Congratulations.

It's a fantastic chair.

There are three or four examples out there that are known, but they're very, very rare.

And the other two or three I've seen were in oak.

So this is the only one in mahogany we, we know of.

There's, like, one to four known in America.

You have one of them.

That's absolutely amazing.

Don't you think my mother has great taste?

She does-- geez, I about fell over when you had that in line.

You know?

Are you kidding?

I am not.

PEÑA: You're watching "Antiques Roadshow: Vintage Phil PEÑA: And now it's time for the Roadshow Feedback Booth.

We brought this to show.

The people that gave it to us lied.

They said it was from mid-Victorian period.

It isn't, it's from 1901.

They said it was sterling.

It isn't, it's electric...

It's silver plate.

But we're happy, and we love coming 'cause we're groupies.

We watch this show about a billion times a week.

We had a great time at the Roadshow.

And I still need to keep my day job.

Bought this at a, uh, garage sale for five bucks.

Worth $150.

I feel like I hit the jackpot and... And, uh, Mom, this is not a national treasure.

Oh, too bad.

My mother purchased this bear around 1960 for ten dollars.

And I was glad today to find out that he is now $1,500 worth of bear.

I also brought 24 of his closest friends with him.

And I brought this cookie jar, which is worth about $250 to $450.

And countless nightmares.

Yeah.

It's the ugliest cookie jar ever.

We came because we have a big crush on Jim.

It's not as ugly as it is, because it's worth $3,000.

(laughs) We had a great time here today.

Thanks, "Roadshow."

We got a nice, uh, cigar box guitar from the 1920s.

Said it might be worth about $400 to $500.

And what do you think?

I don't know.

What do we love?

"The Antique Roadshow!"

All right.

PEÑA: Thanks for watching.

See you next time on "Antiques Roadshow."