NAC

I used to like the world of antiques and collectibles. It was worthwhile, educational, and fun. It was also my profession. Unfortunately, it is fast becoming none of those things, partly due to the stupidity and excess wealth exhibited by those in the marketplace-people with no sense of ascetic, ethic, or common sense.

The modern collectible is an ugly thing. It commands thousands of dollars and widespread attention. It grabs headlines. It provides owners instant gratification and notoriety-a second of fame in a fleeting world. It is the 21st century version of the blood sucking plant in the Broadway play The Little Shop of Horrors.

Take a few examples: the first being a grilled cheese sandwich that seemed to bear the impression of a religious icon-the Madonna. Avoiding the spiritual ramifications, how can a sandwich made of anything command ten thousand dollars? What's the point? Even if it was "real," why pay money for it? It can't be hung on a wall, feed five thousand, or venerate Kraft Foods. It may be an oddity and even an item of wonder, but it is not a thing to be traded in the market like a chipped dish or a broken spoon.

The next is a jar containing "air" from two actors in a current movie. What reasonable person would believe such a story and actually pay money to own it? And even, God forbid, the story is confirmed, who would want it anyway? Is the air from two people, paid to pretend to be someone else, more pure, more defined, or more valuable than any other air on the planet? Who thinks this stuff up?

Or what about a litany of other strange items? From Elvis' hair to naming rights for stars no one will ever see, the list becomes more absurd and outrageous every day. What can someone think of next to put on Ebay to cause a stir? Why not a host touched by Pope John, a bottle of St. Helena ash, or a piece of discarded garbage from a celebrity's trash bin? Perhaps yesterday's game ball, dirty uniform, or beer stained program?

The collectible has become the nemesis of my world.

What happened to beauty, function, and form? How about craftsmanship and care? Where's the lover of art and design? Where's the historian, the romantic, and the Connoisseur?

The joy of antiques was in the hunt and the find. A diamond in a lump of coal, a Willard clock in a country cottage, or even a Rookwood vase in a box of planters. The joy was intensified when the same items came back to life to live another day-Frankenstein's of a noble past. When re-discovered they exhibited all that was noble and great in the production of objects. They shine with grace and minister with devotion. Like old soldiers standing at attention, they remind us of the past as they serve the present and point to the future-both in form and function.

I and my generation of true antique lovers are relics of the past just as the items we so much treasure. Time has marched quickly on. It has left our favorite reference books and us on the shelf. What was once prized for a century of life (us and our objects) is now surpassed by immediacy, dreg, and convenience.

I lament. The modern collectible has no grounding or anchor. It exists on a whim. It moves with the quickness of an ocean wave. It rises out of nothing. And crashes just as swiftly. Here today. Gone tomorrow.

Shouldn't there be a law against this kind of stuff? Shouldn't that which is collected on a secondary level be controlled by fashion and taste? Shouldn't transactions be approved by a more refined group of consumers? Can't we organize a fashion police? A commission of culture and taste? A copper of collectibles?

The answer is no. Despite my misgivings and mistrust, the market will someday regain its senses. Priorities will realign and order will reappear. The fad will have disappeared and the timeless will remain. Good taste, expert craftsmanship, and beautiful forms will once again hold their prominence. The only question is when?

Leon is a former resident of northern New Jersey living in Wilmington, NC. He can be reached at leoncastner@bellsouth.net.