...What beauty was of yore
Yesterday, I went antiquing in Burbank. I had wanted to go to Ventura to antique, which is a favorite place of mine to do that, since Main Street is Antique Row, but the gas prices being what they are at the moment, I’m wavering. I may throw caution to the wind and just do it tomorrow anyway! But yesterday, I found four antique stores in a row next to each other on Magnolia. As usual, they had incredible things: opera glasses, cigarette cases, cameras, linens, furniture, washboards, dishes, dolls, irons made of iron that you had to heat up on the stove, old telephones (one place had a princess-style phone that was built into a marble-topped end table—the dial and the receiver were sunk into the marble—something I’d never seen in all my tender years!).
I love being around antiques. Love history. Love it. Consequently, I adore anything that has survived the perilous trek into the 21st century and made it here in one piece. Yesterday, I was feeling kind of blue for some unknown reason, and after I’d been in the store for a few minutes and got lost in time, I didn’t remember that I’d felt that way before I walked in. Not only are antiques rare and old, but they’re a living piece of another time. The people who used to use them are long dead, but still these things remain. These are things that were THERE, when I wasn’t. If inanimate objects could be witnesses to events, can you imagine the stories they could tell (Hey, Tom Robbins would wonder, too, by the way...)? There are days when the idea of antiques depresses me, also because their owners are long dead and they’re still here, old and unclaimed, and musty-smelling. But, that usually passes!
In the first shop I went into, the two proprietors were of the same era as much of their stock, and they looked surprised, yet somewhat pleased, to see me. I said hello and then delved into what they had. About halfway through the place, I found it: old sheet music, complete with front cover illustrations, from pre-WWI through to the ’60’s! Not interested in the ’60’s, I ransacked the early 20th century section. Not only from a historical point of view, but from a graphic design point of view, these were little gems (I am also increasing my ability to replicate design styles from old sources in Illustrator and PhotoShop: theatre, movie and circus posters, songbooks, newspaper and catalog ads...the list goes on. Not only is it my kind of thing, it happens to be in right now, judging by CD and book covers being published of late)! I picked out four sets of sheet music, that were by famous composers and/or whose design style and color scheme I liked.
Two were by Irving Berlin, one was by W.C. Handy, and one was by Lou Klein and Harry Von Tilzer, whom I’ve never heard of, but the cover was like a silent film still. All of them were from the early 1900’s. Not reproductions—originals. There were even hand-written notes pencilled in some of them! One was autographed using a fountain pen! I’m going to frame them and put them up in my place. I’m not sure if they’ll go one to a room, or all together in a strategically-placed grouping. But up they’re going. I may not be able to afford antique furniture, but I can shell out for sheet music.
I love being around antiques. Love history. Love it. Consequently, I adore anything that has survived the perilous trek into the 21st century and made it here in one piece. Yesterday, I was feeling kind of blue for some unknown reason, and after I’d been in the store for a few minutes and got lost in time, I didn’t remember that I’d felt that way before I walked in. Not only are antiques rare and old, but they’re a living piece of another time. The people who used to use them are long dead, but still these things remain. These are things that were THERE, when I wasn’t. If inanimate objects could be witnesses to events, can you imagine the stories they could tell (Hey, Tom Robbins would wonder, too, by the way...)? There are days when the idea of antiques depresses me, also because their owners are long dead and they’re still here, old and unclaimed, and musty-smelling. But, that usually passes!
In the first shop I went into, the two proprietors were of the same era as much of their stock, and they looked surprised, yet somewhat pleased, to see me. I said hello and then delved into what they had. About halfway through the place, I found it: old sheet music, complete with front cover illustrations, from pre-WWI through to the ’60’s! Not interested in the ’60’s, I ransacked the early 20th century section. Not only from a historical point of view, but from a graphic design point of view, these were little gems (I am also increasing my ability to replicate design styles from old sources in Illustrator and PhotoShop: theatre, movie and circus posters, songbooks, newspaper and catalog ads...the list goes on. Not only is it my kind of thing, it happens to be in right now, judging by CD and book covers being published of late)! I picked out four sets of sheet music, that were by famous composers and/or whose design style and color scheme I liked.
Two were by Irving Berlin, one was by W.C. Handy, and one was by Lou Klein and Harry Von Tilzer, whom I’ve never heard of, but the cover was like a silent film still. All of them were from the early 1900’s. Not reproductions—originals. There were even hand-written notes pencilled in some of them! One was autographed using a fountain pen! I’m going to frame them and put them up in my place. I’m not sure if they’ll go one to a room, or all together in a strategically-placed grouping. But up they’re going. I may not be able to afford antique furniture, but I can shell out for sheet music.
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