Heard it through the Grapevine

Signs of the Times

Any photo that reveals early 20th-century American towns likely will show handpainted signs, done by painters in what is now a near-obsolete occupation in an age of computerized graphics. Collectors are drawn to the folksy look of signs which stand out amid the modern cookie-cutter signage of today.

And not just painted signs. A high illiteracy rate was the main reason that certain antique bottles have their special shape, and early trade signs were formed as figural representations of the product the vendor provided. Butchers might display a carved wooden head of a bull. A dentist would hang a larger-than-life molar, complete with roots. A giant pocket watch represented a clockmaker. (Lord only knows what proctologists of the time did.)

Of all the figural trade signs of the 19th century, the most valuable is the iconic cigar store Indian, which stood in front of most every tobacco store. If you get to meet Kim and Mary Kokles of Texas, ask them to tell you about their collection.

At an internet auction ending Dec. 12, and held by Morford’s of Cazenovia, N.Y., was a nice old sign. And signs, as all collectors should know, are popular and, often, expensive.

Signs also come in a variety of shapes and material: wood, paper, canvas, tin, steel, painted, glass, posters, what-have-you. And enamel signs, especially in England. The Finches like signs, and our only complaint is that most rooms come with only four walls. Ours are covered and, while we have been tempted, we have declined to hang things on the ceiling.

But, among our hangings: Heinz and Lily Pond’s ketchups, “Blue Lick Health Waters,” “Cerebos Salt” (for a taste of England), “Cunningham’s Ice Cream,” “Raspberries,” “Sweet Corn,” “Ralph’s” (for a barber shop), “Palmetto” (an old Detroit street), “Be nice or leave” (Janet got that to threaten a previous husband), a huge “5¢ to $1.00 Up” (an early Woolworth’s?), “Shredded Whole Wheat” (the only food I ate from age 8 to 18), “Nabisco Sugar Wafers,” “House Refinisher / R.E. Owen” (and English firm), and a “Rival Dog Food” clock (to tell us when it is dinner time). One sign says “Baker Street,” a souvenir of twenty trips to England, and London in particular.

And the bathroom is filled with appropriate signs: “Seats Sterilized” and “Pay Toilet,” both for 5¢. The bedroom is filled with theater posters for The Phantom of The Opera. And since we have two cats, one sign warns: “I Hope You Like Cat Hair.”

And, for long-time collectors: How about the “old days,” before “antiques malls,” and you would wander the countryside looking for “ma-and-pa antique shops”? I will always remember driving down a two-lane road in New England and, way ahead there was a tiny roadside sign and I shouted, “ANTIQUES!” I was a bit embarrassed when we arrived at the small sign and read it: “Used Tires.” I wrote it off as when people see mirages.

Perhaps my favorite sign is the large wood one that hangs over my computer, the sign that motivates me to write for hours every day. It simply states: “Fertilizer Of All Kinds.” And, phew, that’s just a sampling.

Perhaps the majority of Finch signs are those related to ketchup, but that’s because my ketchup collection is, literally, internationally known. I’ve always liked tomatoes; I even married one. And that’s why Morford’s Lot 61 got my interest.

It’s a nice painted wood sign described as “vintage ca. 1920s/30s, with a wonderful hand-painted image (of a red tomato) and lettering. All original, w/a rich, untouched paint surface and just the right amount of light general soiling, weathering and light wear to give it a great looking primitive country folk art look.” It’s a large sign, 43 inches wide and almost 10 inches deep, and says: “Hand Packed Tomatoes.” It required a minimum opening bid of $100.

OK, I said to myself, I’ll go … um, I hadn’t even figured out my high bid when I checked the auction with two weeks to go, and the bid had already reached $5,500! Right then, I knew that this Finch would never catch-up with this tomato. The final hammer resounded with a smashing $6,700 (plus premium).

Laments and comments can be sent to Ralph Finch at rfinch@twmi.rr.com

Heard it through the Grapevine

We Are Truly Blown Away

How exciting! At last, there is a reality program for those of us who love glass.

Somewhere along the line, our TVdevouring culture decided a reality series can be about pretty much anything. There are shows about body-painting (Skin Wars), shepherds (Flockstars), Australian Airbnb hosts (Instant Hotel), mini golf (Holey Moley) — an entire subgenre of programming exclusively dedicated to cake. And yet, somehow, there are still things that we've never seen before.

In February 2021 Netflix quietly premiered Blown Away, the world’s first show about glassblowing. Technically, the series first aired on Makeful, but on the mega-streamer this refreshingly tight competition format (binge it in four hours!) is now reaching that sweet, sweet, global audience — and it features artists from Canada and the United States who fight for the title of “Best in Blow.” These artisans from across North America compete in a glassblowing competition for a residency at the Corning Museum of Glass. Stuart Heritage from The Guardian says: “I can’t stop watching it. I am only writing this to make you watch it, so I can have someone to talk to about it. My fascination in part stems from the fact that glassblowing is an intricate, high-level skill that combines artistic vision with physical heft. This isn’t MasterChef, where you can wander into the kitchen after an episode and replicate some of the techniques in your own home. This is just about as niche as it gets. The equipment is vast and expensive. The processes can only be achieved after years of intensive training. Everything about glassblowing, at every step, screams, “This is not for you!” So on this level, it’s incredible to watch talented people do something that you could never do.”

A contestant on the show fires up a creation.

Late Delivery of Magazines

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