People often assume that an antique dealer begins with an antique. Perhaps a heirloom passed down from generations.
Mine began with a vase that has now lived in my home for over 15 years.
Not just any vase, but a Barovier & Toso vase from Murano, Italy. At the time I did not know this; I simply knew that the form, shape and feeling it gave me was unlike anything I'd owned before.
At the time, I wasn't thinking about businesses, collections or ateliers. I simply knew that I could not go on living without it.
It wasn't the first beautiful object I'd ever bought, nor was it the oldest. But it was one of the first pieces that made me realise there was a difference between liking an object and becoming completely fascinated by it. It was also the first object I purchased of value - it taught me that big price tags have a place in everyone home.
I found myself wanting to know who had made it. When it had been made. Why the glass looked so different to anything else I'd seen. It sent me down a rabbit hole that, if I'm honest, I'm still happily wandering through today.
For anyone unfamiliar, Barovier & Toso is one of the oldest names in Murano glass. The family's connection to glassmaking dates back to 1295, making it one of the world's oldest continuously operating glass houses. Based on the Venetian island of Murano, the company has spent centuries refining techniques that have become synonymous with Italian art glass.
Murano itself has an extraordinary history.
In 1291, Venice ordered its glassmakers to relocate their furnaces to the nearby island of Murano. Officially, it was to reduce the risk of devastating fires in the city, where most buildings were timber. Unofficially, it also helped protect the secrets of Venetian glassmaking, which had become one of the Republic's most valuable industries.
For centuries, Murano glassmakers were among the most respected craftspeople in Europe. Techniques were passed from one generation to the next, and many of the methods developed there are still used today. Every piece is shaped by hand, which means no two are ever completely identical.
I think that's what continues to draw me in.
You can feel the hand of the maker.
The slight asymmetry. The tiny bubbles. The way the light moves through the glass. They're details that would probably be considered imperfections in mass production, but in Murano glass they're exactly what gives a piece its character.
It is remarkably special.
I also started to understand the eye watering price tag it held - I was paying for the history. Alas, it came home with me.
The Barovier & Toso vase still sits in my home. On my kitchen bench (out of reach from my toddler). It is home to my weekly flowers; from the market, garden, or nearby park. Sometimes it sits empty, dusty, but never uninteresting.
Years later, I still catch myself looking at it as I walk past.
To me, that's probably the best test of a truly good object.
It doesn't lose its ability to bring you joy.