The October issue of The Magazine Antiques has an article on the atmospheric landscape painter George Harvey. Not usually attracted to the watercolor medium, I was drawn in by a scene of Flatbush from Greenwood cemetary in Brookly and a view of the Pennsylvania Canal at Holidaysburg. The works appear exceptional, and certainly are worthy of appreciation as art, rather than simply for their historical value. The works are on display at the New York Historical Society, however their web site says they have been temporarily removed due to construction delays. In the meantime, pick up a copy of The Magazine Antiques.

Rarely has home ever been treated as merely a functional place. Form may follow function in design, yet once we are moved in, it's the "form" that takes over and gives the place personality. From the beginning we've been personalizing our spaces whether they be a studio apartment ot a bedroom to an office cubicle. We're also perpetually interested in how to make our homes better, and in finding out what our fellows homes look like on the inside. This interior infatuation has been expressed in house tours, real estate ad browsing, in commercial mediums and in art. One example is this stereoview card showing a "house beautiful" in Brooklyn. The back of the card reads, in part, "Making a home attractive is one of the finest of arts. Nothing so makes life worth while and full of richness as a well appointed place to live. We are too often satisfied with cheap prints in place of pictures, gaudy wallpaper, any kind of cheap rugs, and furniture of all sorts." It continues... "Taste is not a natural gift. Like other virtues, it must be cultivated. To teach girls how to furnish their homes properly is the purpose of Domestic Art." (the Pratt School in Brooklyn is mentioned).

All too rare are these glimpses into more common homes, at least in terms of income if not taste, yet there's historically been more interest in how the rich and famous decorate. For a glimpse therein, visit the Cooper-Hewitt for "House Proud: Nineteenth-century Watercolor Interiors from the Thaw Collection." through January 25, 2009.

On my first visit to the antiques strip along Atlantic Ave in Brooklyn, I noticed almost all stores have their websites, except probably Horseman, which is stuffed with mid-century items scattered over five floors.

In the "Incurable Collector Antiques" store, a Columbia University student majoring in journalism was interviewing the owner when I was there. The owner stated that the future of the antiques business is online. With a click of a mouse, more people can have access to the inventory.

Certainly the cost of building a website or like the owner of the Incurable Collector Antiques to use some online services is relatively small. And it for sure reaches out the potential customers. Through website more customers may get to know such stores and come to visit the stores. (Not accidentally, I found out these places by typing "antique strip brooklyn" in google.) Furthermore, some transaction may happen directly online. The owner of Repeat Performance Antiques is now using GoAntiques to sell stuff. And David Marshall, the owner of the Antique Rooms, now owns a second website (http://www.americanandenglishantiques.com/) which utilizes the new flash technology to create online portfolios. Thirdly, with the sharp increase, a lot of stores cannot keep business at where they are now; but an online store makes the choice of location less important.

Still, will the internet change the downturn of the antiques business? I have my doubts.

The first characteristic feature of the antique objects is that they are unique to certain degree. Hardly two items are exactly the same. Some differences are quite subtle such as the splat of a chair or the shade of a lamp. The antique shopping is exciting in that one is personally hand picking stuff that interests his eyes, hands and mind. The scrutinization with the aid of touch and look both strengthens one's perception and cognition and weaken one's objectivity at the same time. Online pictures and description lacks such a warmth and humanity of real antique shopping and flatten the objects into remote and mysterious merchandise.

This is especially true for stores which feature high end antique objects. Will one buy a sofa attributed to Anthony Quevelle without even examining it in person? The trust mechanism that has been built solid in online giants such as eBay or Amazon Market does not exist in workshop-style antique stores. Plus the inborn fragile or bulky character of antiques objects makes shipping troublesome or even cost prohibitive.

Secondly, antiques business is having a hard time regardless to the boom of Internet shopping. High-end antiques can be immune to the market trend (including stock market), but medium ranged objects are closely related to the house market. The money strain hit the regular buyers hard that the pleasure of finding something unexpected and surprising on weekend antique shopping comes with a sting on the hand holding the wallet. (New Yorkers in particular face both the budget constraint and the space limitation. ) With the house market slows down, stalls and renegades, and the food, gas, rents keep rising, the painful struggling period of antique business will last for quite a while.

Lastly, the complains and groans about the change of tastes, in my point of view, may only be partially true. The trends have always worked in a swing fashion. The young generation has witnessed the most fast growth of information in history. They are the masters of finding and digesting what is available from the past. The fact that they are now buying funky furniture does not necessarily mean that they won't fall in love with victorian antiques in future. Money, time and space, all these factors refrain them from venturing into something that can only be fully appreciated when you begin to get involved with a fairly thick check book. But there is a reason, I believe, for those antiques objects being sought after and kept pristine for such a long time. They encompass the characters of uniqueness and universality, the values of humanity, history, religion, symbolism and aestheticism. They may be now hidden in the dusty nooks of some shops, nevertheless, they shine in front of the keen eyes, which fortunately always exist.

Recently there are more times than I can realize that I speak of Brooklyn, the borough where I live, not only because it is huge in terms of both land and population, but also because I feel strong sense that Brooklyn should be differentiated from Manhattan, which people associate with fast-pace life-style of rude and indifferent trendy people.

Based on Kenneth Jackson, the professor and scholar at Columbia University, as many as a quarter of all Americans can trace their ancestry to people who once lived in Brooklyn's 81 square miles. It is here that I began to learn of Dutch Colonial living and expanded my knowledge of Victorian architecture, because the borough, with its more than 400 neighborhoods provides the best textbook ever for anyone who wants to indulge in American culture and history.

Non-Brooklynians can hardly appreciate Brooklyn, partly because the name itself brings ones of the dusty memories of industry declination and racial strife & violence, partly because there is simply a more glittering attraction on the other side of the East River. (Carey in Sex and City moaned that even the cabs don’t go to Brooklyn. Well she is wrong.

Sitting here facing Prospect Park, I wonder how the course of my antique and art interest would have meandered if I were living in Manhattan. First of all, the apartment would be much smaller. Thus what can be deployed around the rooms would have to be more limited. (A recent article from NY Times actually mentioned some yuppies’ happy story ending in Brooklyn Heights where they hosted parties in such “roomy” space that made their Manhattan friends jealous.) Secondly, it will certainly change what "should" be collected.

Of course any object, as long as size permits, can fit in rooms of any style. The question is whether it is appropriate or what is appropriate?

What is an appropriate style for Manhattan apartments? I don’t have a firm opinion on that.

As much I am energized (or sometimes annoyed) by the crowd in the city, as I am sometimes tired of its somewhat ominous architecture. The architectural history of modern Manhattan is a history of negation, a denial of the value of past, a murder of aesthetic souls. (Having said that, I do think the gruesome demolishing of architectural gems in Manhattan--and sometimes saving them-- is what makes New York New York.)

From my observation, buildings of around the 1920’s in the Upper West still bears an aroma that is reminiscent of Edith Wharton’s New York ambience. (Oh well, why should I talk about the places of super rich!) But the apartment complex built from 1930’s onward in the Upper East look less cheer. I can still hang some 19^th century paintings or use a drop-leaf empire table, but it is impossible that passing those rows of apartment buildings void of individuality would not have any effect on my mind. Maybe I would select Ashcan school works since their fondness of observing ugliness of urban livings and their voyeur topic may inspire me to peek into the concrete jungles around.

It is not accidental that modern art galleries flourish in lower Manhattan neighborhoods such as Chelsea, the sleek and inhuman metal feeling of the furniture and the abstract visual art would match those long and narrow condos which were converted from warehouses. The same degree of negation of the past in those super rough or super smooth modern paintings and the sheer color and surface of the modern furniture are the natural choice for lower Manhattan. The crowds are young and 60’s and 70’s furnishing and art have influenced them from their youth. What would I choose if I had lived there? I would say my own works. Don’t I deserve 15 minutes’ of fame?