Decoding Furniture Lingo

By: Roberta Maneker

January 2006

Dentil molding is not an office procedure.
Stop fluting is not a musical injunction.
A dummy board is not an IQ test.

The world of antiques, like other specialized areas, has its own argot. It's easy enough to walk into an antiques shop or auction gallery, but it's a lot more productive if you can actually understand the dealer (or the auction catalogue or the eBay entry). Knowing what you like is good; knowing how to talk about it is better. It takes some effort to get a handle on this material, but the game is worth it if you love beautifully made, historically invested old pieces.

Classifications

Furniture is described by different categories that often confusingly overlap. A broadly used rubric is English and French monarchs whose names are attached to distinctive styles that originated during their reigns (William & Mary, Queen Anne, George, Victoria in England and the Louises in France). English sovereign names are commonly attached to Colonial American furniture as well, so you'll find Connecticut Queen Anne or Massachusetts William & Mary furniture. Details will differ, but pieces only have to share broad defining characteristics. And invariably they will, because Colonial cabinetmakers made generous use of the styles established across the pond.

Historical epochs also categorize furniture with a blizzard of confusing names that test your mastery of world history: English Restoration, American Colonial and Federal, French Empire (which in Germany is Biedermeier). You get it, right? For a useful two-page chart organizing this information, see Judith Miller's The Illustrated Dictionary of Antiques & Collectibles.

Furniture also is identified by designers-cum-cabinetmakers. The monikers of the great and influential English trinity of Chippendale (Thomas), Hepplewhite (George) and Sheraton (Thomas) modify both British and American furniture. In your wanderings and readings, you'll note that sometimes furniture also is referred to by movements (Bauhaus, de Stijl, Arts & Crafts, etc.). Facing this morass, many find it easiest to start with the English sovereign classifications, and then branch onward as their tastes dictate.

Useful Vocabulary

While you may feel daunted by what seems to be an entirely new language, at a minimum you should understand the opaque vocabulary that thrives in ads and on store tags. Most basically, a centennial piece was made loosely-very loosely-around 100 years after its style originated. So, a Chippendale chair (if period, mid- to late 18th century) that was made in the last quarter of the 19th century appropriately would be labeled “centennial.” (But a lot of iffy items travels under that label, we regret to report.) Style means that a piece resembles the work of a particular designer or period. Thus, a Chippendale-style chair can be three minutes old.

Then, within every furniture category more jargon thrives. Leigh Keno, a premier dealer in Americana, reports that “People love the anthropomorphic names applied to furniture: the trunk and waist of a tall clock [aka a grandfather clock], the apron on a table or chest, the bonnet on a bureau bookcase” (antique-speak for a secretary). Indeed, a great many terms in the furniture world derive from body parts. Tables and chairs have legs, which have knees and feet and sometimes even toes (claws, too, but let's not go there).
Chairs also have arms and occasionally ears. Liz Feld, of Hirschl & Adler Inc. in New York, says that the vocabulary for 19th-century furniture (in which the firm specializes) is different from 18th-century pieces because these later pieces often are characterized by surface decorations, such as metal inlays, faux-graining and ormolu (more words to learn), while most 18th-century furniture is less embellished, defining its beauty by the line, proportion and grain. (This leads to divergent views about restoration, but that's a different column).

How to Expand Your Knowledge

You might reasonably assume that dealers want only educated customers. Not so, says Keno. “I enjoy looking at objects with someone who hasn't done much of that before. When I see a piece anew through the customer's eyes I continue to learn.” Americana dealer Sumpter Priddy of Alexandria, Virginia, concurs. “I spend a great deal of time educating my customers as well as myself. Buyers need to immerse themselves in the marketplace.” He suggests connecting with dealers who are “driven by research, knowledge and passion.” Other dealers, though, such as English furniture specialist Bernard Karr of Hyde Park Antiques in New York, expect more from their customers. “If someone has no clue whatsoever, I find it impossible to pass on a 40-year accumulation of knowledge in four minutes.”

Fortunately, books that will familiarize you with the language of antiques are plentiful. The American Heritage Guide to Antiques by Mary Durant or A Short Dictionary of Furniture by John Gloag are both out of print but available on the Internet. A concise and helpful glossary of terms can be found in Hidden Treasures: Searching for Masterpieces of American Furniture by Leigh and Leslie Keno.

A quick search at www.amazon.com, or, better yet, www.ABEbooks.com, will produce other useful texts, some not available in bookstores. However, Karr advises that while books are helpful, you need a context, a framework that only can be developed from seeing actual objects. He suggests visiting the Metropolitan Museum or the best museum in your city. “Stare and learn from the best things you can see,” he says.

The message is that if you find an experienced and willing dealer, listen up. These are knowledgeable people, and you can benefit greatly from their expertise. If their bona fides are strong, you can usually buy confidently from them. But actually knowing what you're buying assures a smart acquisition and a good night's sleep.

New York correspondent Roberta Maneker is an auction house veteran who has worked at Christie's and Phillips, de Pury and Company.