New Values for Old Silver

ONCE, the art of the silversmith was high art. In the Middle Ages silver in Europe was reserved for kings, princelings and powers, whether religious or secular. An established sculptor like Benvenuto Cellini did not consider it beneath him to fashion elaborate silver ewers and saltcellars, even though they looked more like the Trevi fountain than a functional device.

The tradition of artistic elegance passed on to succeeding generations of silversmiths, and continued even after the discovery of Peru's rich silver mines in 1533 made the metal available to Europe's relatively common people. A selective congeries of master craftsmen began to turn out standard household items: porringers, tankards, sherry beakers, stirrup cups, and such utilitarian items as knives and spoons. Their art was so prolific, in fact, that for years nobody paid much attention to the artistic quality of their products.

Somewhat Stunned. In the past several years, collectors have discovered that a good many of these early designers not only produced objects that were intrinsically valuable but incorporated superb designs that have not yet been matched. The result has been a spectacular boom in the silver market that has left even its dealers somewhat stunned. In the past four years, they figure, the average price of silver pieces has approximately doubled.

The reasons are various. Unlike fine porcelain or glassware, silver is rugged enough to be used on the dining table. George I coffeepots go for as high as $15,000 and George II candlesticks for $3,000, largely because any host can not only use them, but be more than proud to display them. (What housewife dares entrust to a maid, or even herself, the washing of a Ming plate or a Meissen cup?) Some private collectors are charmed by the nostalgia that exudes from an emblazoned baronial crest, enchanted by the social history implicit in a snuffbox and fascinated by the expertise needed to decipher the silversmith's hallmarks.

Mystique of Style. Inflation only enhances the upward sweep of prices, since many silver collectors buy as a hedge against it. Devaluation of the pound sent antique silver prices in London leaping upward like startled fawns. Then, of course, there is the whole mystique of style. Most congenial to the eyes of modern collectors is the gracefully severe Queen Anne style, which was developed by French Huguenots who fled across the Channel to England to escape religious persecution in 1685. The rococo elegance of mid-18th century English designers like Paul de Lamerie has an extravagant appeal of its own. The robust baroque styles of the 17th century are rarer, but in some ways the most memorable of all. Last November, two James II tankards, delicately chased with drawings of posturing Chinese potentates, fetched $134,400 at Christie's in London. Since the tankards had last changed hands in 1963 at a price of $47,600, mathematicians calculated that they had been appreciating at a rate of $1.80 per hour.

Early American silver, though generally not up to European standards in workmanship and design, also sells for giddy prices. The magic name is Paul Revere, even though myth-shattering experts agree that Revere was no better than other Boston silversmiths of his day. A three-piece Revere tea set was sold for $70,000 last year, up from about the $30,000 it was traded for only five years earlier. Says Kevin Tierney, 26, the sharp-eyed Irish appraiser that Manhattan's Parke-Bernet Galleries imported a year ago to smarten up its silver department: "You've no idea what that ride has done for Revere's trade."

Tierney admits he is amazed by the fast-moving U.S. silver market. "If two people in New York decide to bid against each other for something," he says in wonder, "they don't care what they pay. That doesn't happen in London. Competitive bidding only goes as far as each thinks the value to be." Under his knowledgeable supervision, Parke-Bernet's volume in silver sales has leap-frogged from $388,320 in 1967 to $1,197,785 last year.

Reasonable Penguins. Undoubtedly the happiest buyer at last week's Parke-Bernet sale was a Manhattan dealer named Eric Shrubsole, who started his bidding day by purchasing a silver Victorian penguin for $325 ("a nice stocking present"), a delectable little James II chocolate pot with a sinuous profile probably based on an Oriental vase ($7,500), a George II silver caster ($1,100) and a James II silver lighthouse caster ($6,000).

Those were mere trinkets compared with his prize, an extremely rare cup-sized tankard, dated 1656 and last sold from the William Randolph Hearst collection in 1939 for $1,400. Shrubsole cheerfully paid $29,000 for it. "A very reasonable price," he gloated. "I've never seen a tankard like this in the 40 years I've been in the business. I saw it when it sold at the Hearst collection, but I didn't have the $1,400 then. Ha, but today I do have the $29,000." Ha, indeed. In the present state of demand, he will undoubtedly soon have his $29,000 right back again--plus a handsome and justifiable profit for his acumen.

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