Spring Antiques Article by John Bly. “…It might as well be Spring…”


as penned by Rogers and Hammerstein for the 1945 film State Fair and sung as
well as anybody by Frank Sinatra in 1964. On his visits to The Savoy Hotel in London
Mr. Sinatra would sometimes play the white painted piano in the American Bar and
surely as a result of this as well as a general nostalgia for the place the piano was sold
by auction in December 2007 for £11,400, well over the auctioneer’s estimate of
£2- £3000. But also, with its high-gloss white emblazoned with black silhouettes of
jazz musicians, it represented a period discernable by style, decoration and
mechanised manufacture, all of which are important means of identifying items from
any bygone era. It is strange how we overlook this easy path to understanding. Anyway,
although I am writing this while the snow swirls about the other side of my window it might as well be spring because I am imagining the longer warmer days we shall be enjoying when this page is eventually published and hopefully read. Thinking further on those lines, pictures of leaf buds bursting open and early flowering blossoms creating spots of bright colour in the garden come to mind. Now there’s a subject everyone enjoys – gardening, and harking back to understanding I am reminded of the number of times people say, “I really know nothing about antiques, but I love gardening”. In answer to this the advice is to look just briefly at the history of garden design and you will see an Elizabeth I period Knot Garden with its formal, geometric borders created from clipped miniature hedges. Then look up to the plaster-moulded ceiling of an Elizabethan hall, the chiselled stone pillars and arches of an Elizabethan passageway, the carved panelling in a post-Tudor chamber, and then closely at the chased decoration on the sides of a 1560’s silver flagon and you will see a knot garden in them all. In contrast, the man-made natural asymmetry of the landscaped garden of the mid-18th century, popularly attributed to Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown, looked all the more natural when viewed from within a room furnished in the rococo manner, the very basis of which was indeed asymmetry. The age of classicism during the last quarter of the 18th century brought a return to formality in the garden that continued well into the Victorian era. However, as the influence of the Arts and Crafts Movement grew after the 1860’s, so a strong feeling for the ‘cottage’ garden with its seemingly random selection of wild as well as cultivated plants took hold. As the population had doubled during the first 30 years of the 19th century and continued to grow so rows of terraced houses were built to house the people. Each house had its tiny kitchen garden, window box or staircase landing area for an indoor houseplant. The fondness for bringing the garden indoors saw the reception areas of The Savoy amassed with huge palms and jungle plants in the 30’s Busby Berkley era,
and the song from the original 1933 musical “42nd St.”– which he choreographed

- “It Must be June” brings me sharply back to my garden choice in recent history.
On the 27th April 2007 a scene reminiscent of the Tudor period was attended by the
great and the good from all corners of the gardening world at the opening of a most
remarkable achievement; a garden of ‘tricks’ and treats for everyone, The Garden of
Surprises, based on the Elizabethan ingenuity of William Cecil, Lord Burghley,
(1520 – 1598) using modern technology. Set in the grounds of Burghley House in
Stamford, Lincolnshire, this is a truly fitting tribute to the creative gardening of
His Lordship, but more importantly it is an everlasting and ever-growing memorial to the 25 years of service as house director that Lady Victoria Leatham, direct descendant of William Cecil, has devoted to the House and its environs. Under her custody since 1982 Burghley House has disclosed that it contains the most important documented collection of oriental porcelain in the western world, an unsurpassable collection of objets d’art, clocks and mechanical instruments as well as books and manuscripts of inestimable importance; all of this in addition to the already acknowledged collection of fine art and important furniture. But back to the ‘trick’ garden: every age produces an eminent gardener, be it in design, cultivation, propagation or discovery and Lord Burghley was certainly that of the Tudor age. Thankfully something in the genes has survived for 500 years to reappear with Lady Victoria’s inspiration and determination to create yet another wonderful experience for the 90,000 people who visit Burghley every year. The new garden is adjacent to the new Sculpture Garden and contains over 15 major ‘elements’. There’s a copper tree and a mirror tree and over 30 features of water doing wonderful things, including massaging tired feet. Then on to a mirror maze and a house made of moss with crystals in the ceiling that sparkle like stars, through Neptune’s grotto to a parade of 10 Roman emperors. Four obelisks transform themselves to represent earth, air, fire and water and in order to leave you must make one final test of your courage and go through the exit curtain of water. But among the most stunning creations is the remarkable Burghley sundial. ‘Set’ to the precise latitude and longitude of the Gardens, the sundial offers a world map literally centred on Burghley, which will also reveal the changing star signs. Sundials are one of the oldest of all scientific instruments and the Garden of Surprises dial has been made by William Andrewes, a former curator of Harvard University’s Collection of Historical Scientific Instruments and a leading expert on the history of timekeeping. So what will future generations be able to deduce from a glance at The Garden of Surprises? Those who love gardening will know it to be an Elizabethan concept, but anyone with just a basic knowledge of the machinery that made it possible, will recognise it as a 21st century model. I wonder, shall we one day hear “ I really know nothing about antiques, but I love technology”?