God Bless Collectors
MAIREAD DUNLEVY – What would we do without them?
All of us, museum curators, antique dealers and media. commentators, depend on them, happily benefit from their knowledge and are invigorated by their passion. But possibly more than any of us, collectors can be the focus of envy, curiosity and misunderstanding. This does not forgive the fact that many dedicated and great Irish collectors are forgotten after their death and the dispersal of their treasured collec¬tions. They deserve better.
Each of us can remember the collectors who, when we were young, shared their enthusiasm for their collections with us and fired interest. My early memories arc of Harry P. Swan, whose welcoming home was an Aladdin’s cave in which every inch of space was filled with exquisitely carved Chinese ivories, Roman glass, tokens, early English powder horns and early 19th century embroidered samplers, the best of if which he bought in Molesworth Street during the Second World War.
A much more modest and much less comfortable home — but also exhilarating — was that of a friend who visited derelict sites. Her boasts were of having hand-made red bricks stamped with such illustrious names as ‘Kingscourt”, ‘Youghal & Monard’, “Thompson, Dublin’. She could discuss them for hours.
Anybody who knew John Chambers will clearly recall the twinkle in his eye as, to end a great meal, he brought out the chocolate pudding — and his recent find from Francis Street. Late at night it might be, but his keen mind would then excite critical comment on his new acquisition. When that was exhausted the conversation could then be led into anything from dowels and stretchers to what scientific method could be devised to indicate the products of our various Irish glass factories, cut and engraved designs being so frustrating.
Such friends and tutors follow in a tradition insufficiently acknowledged in Ireland, as over the past centuries we have had some great and most discerning collectors. This is a selection and com¬memoration of just a few of those with whom I would have liked to share a few hours in their studies.
Henry Quinn (1718-91), physician, owner of extensive acreage of land in various counties and inventor of Tassie gems, was also no mean collector of early cameos and intaglios. His standard was such that his poor son agonised when in Rome in selecting the quality and the authenticity of gems that he could bring home. Quinn’s collection was that of a cultured intellectual. He actively encouraged many of his friends to become gem collectors — although some of them preferred more popular subjects such as ‘Cupid being chastised for misdemeanours’.
Francis Johnston (1760-1829), architect of the GPO and many other great buildings as well as government offices, also privately collected gems and medals. When you look at the precision of the carving of the insignia on the wine sarcophagus in Number Twenty Nine, Lr. Fitzwilliam Street, you can then understand his passion for finely carved gems. His collection was so large that auctioneers took three days to sell it in 1834.
Two of the more prominent Dublin col¬lectors in the late 19th century were Mr & Mrs Thom. Publishers of the trade and street directories — the precursor of the telephone directory — their leisure lay in collecting Japanese ivories and enamels. They made great purchases of incredibly detailed carved ivories of fishermen, deities and geisha girls while their Japanese enamels were layered, shimmering and thought-provoking. Both hoped that their collection would encourage a higher standard of design in Ireland.
A friend of theirs and a more traditional collector was Thomas H. Longfield. When appointed in 1879 as the first curator of what is now the National Museum, he was described as an architect and connoisseur. Both he and his father collected superb English porcelains, including the probably early Chelsea figures of Ganymedcs the son of Tros, ‘the most beautiful of all mortals’ being brought up to Mount Olympus by Zeus in the form of an eagle. With it is the companion, Europa the daughter of the King of Tyre, who is about to be abducted (and later ravished) by Jupiter, who is then in the shape of a gentle, harmless bull. Another friend of theirs was W. E. Grumbelton of Cork who acquired a superb collection of European and English porcelains.
About a generation later there was M. S. D. Westropp and Robert E. Day. Time in each of their studies might unravel some notable problems today. Westropp is best known for his glass collection, which was sold in 19S6, but he should be remembered also for his research into — and collection of— silver, medals and pewter. His wife, who supported him enthusiastically, was also a most discerning collector of superb embroideries and textiles.
Robert Day was the ultimate collector. He was interested in everything — so long as it was old and had an Irish, or particularly Cork, interest. His collection ranged from silver, glass, delft and cream-colour ware to clocks, patch boxes and book plates.
In every generation we have had our great collectors —just think of, more recently, the collections of Kurt Ticher, F. E. Dixon, John and Gertrude Hunt. Through their enthusiasm and quests each of them enriched our lives.
Mairead Dunlevy
National Museum of Ireland
