As my big city friend was going to be out of the city for the first two days of my trip I made a little pact with myself.  Walk at least three miles a day.  Eat what ever I wanted.  Google Maps was the thing that made it all possible.  See, I can’t bring myself to be that person standing on the street corner looking left and right, up at the street sign, back at the map.  Instead, I walk purposefully, but sometimes in the wrong direction.  With my handy maps it was impossible to get lost as they gave me the directions in words, which is something I process better than grids.  Also, it designated the distance of the journey.  Genius.

When I had gone by to see Elizabeth Wilson, who carries some of Ted Muehling’s jewelry, she advised me to see his shop.  When wise women tell you things, you listen.  So I googled.  From the West Village, my home base, to Muehling’s was just over three miles.

It was incredibly cold in New York and unsurprising but remarkable that the wind always seemed to be in my face.  But walking in the city is like being on safari.  Discoveries around every corner and a wild beast here and there.

Ted Muehling’s shop was extraordinary.  It was peaceful, but it had a kind of a low current of energy.  Not zen.  Not relaxing.  Stimulating.  But no mania.  He does not allow pictures so I must encourage you to seek out his pieces where you can.  Including the earrings I’ve been coveting for a good, long time and finally made my own.  And, yes, I’ve worn them nearly every day.

Elizabeth’s other suggestion was to see De Vera, just across the street from Meuhling’s shop.

While Muehling’s designs are modern and essential, the objects and jewelry at De Vera are intricate and complex but no less beautiful.  I simply cannot imagine being the lucky soul who gets to hunt and gather these pieces.

When my big city friend returned (I do think he was a little worried to leave me as he has usually been my GPS) he asked if I were ok.  Completely over the moon.

A few of you have asked, which is so dear, about the earrings I purchased at Ted Muehling.  I managed to take them off long enough to snap this shot.

Image, top, Muehling’s shop, the next De Vera.  All items pictured from De Vera.

I’m going through my issues of the last year and a half of House and Garden.  I keep swearing I’m going to edit them one more time then recycle.  But I’m having a hard time letting go.  After running across an image of a Gio Ponti black ceramic pitcher, searching on line and becoming discouraged, I thought, “I bet I can find one at the antique mall.”  I didn’t.  But, there were other treasures.  The marble table above is still bouncing around in my head.  $165.

This makes you have to turn your head a bit, doesn’t it?  These darling girls have been mistreated.  You could give the two of them a loving home for $168.  There’s a table that’s part of the deal that has no relation to the chairs, but maybe they’ve been together and don’t want to be parted.

Three of these at $55/each.  A quick spray on a good day and you can enjoy them all spring.

This guy has great stuff.  Really great stuff, but he has figured it out and has these battery jars at $42 each.  Still, great inspiration.

Four.  I’d probably paint them white and put some really punchy fabric on that seat.

Hmmm?  Oh, yes, I know, $180 for four.  A total bargain.

Two of the enameled bowls which keep drawing my attention.  These are really cobalt blue so I didn’t need them.  I do think they were $15-ish.

And then this, in a case, right before carpool with no time to get a key.  Clearly, not Ponti, but something good?  That chalky black finish gets me every time.  

Get out there.  Not everything comes right to your door with free shipping.

All pieces River Market Antique Mall, 115 W. 5th Street.

I could not get these hounds out of my head.  They had stopped me in my tracks outside of Christopher Filley’s last week.  That paw of he of sleeker coat, draped casually over the base.  Heavens.

This noble pair had a place of honor in the window Friday as the shops stayed open late.

“Fiske!” said Christopher, “Signed!”  

And with some local provenance, too.  These pups supposedly graced the Busche estate while still a private residence.

It was a lively evening and I hated to turn Christopher into my professor, so I did not admit my lack of knowledge.  I came home to google instead.

J. W. Fiske was a New York company which produced garden ornament, fountains, vases, urns and figures from iron and zinc in the mid to late 19th century.

Fiske did not own their own foundries, so they contracted out much of the actual production of the pieces.  Their work was based on classical forms and often copied historical works.

Seems there was a bit of “inspiration” which flowed both ways.  Some folks borrowed from Fiske; Fiske was inspired by the work of others himself.  Patent schmatent.

Regardless of who borrowed from whom, Fiske was then, and continues to be, regarded as one of the leaders in the field.  Many of Fiske’s pieces are marked with the company name, location, date and often, patent number.

Extensive catalogues were published and can be found on-line.

Interesting.  So, now I know a little bit, a tiny bit more.  Then, today, while going back through my file of vintage tear sheets I ran across this.  (By the way, the file is a higgledy-piggledy mess, one large file with neither rhythm nor reason.  I was searching for the missing page of yesterday’s post in hopes of being able to identify its date.) 

An image from House & Garden, September, 1987, from the Long Island home of decorative painter Richard Lowell Neas.  This dog, with one paw tucked and one out-stretched is paper mache, but so familiar.  Huh.  Funny.

Then, while still looking, I had to stop and flip through an old favorite.  Just one more visit to Albert Hadley’s Connecticut home from House & Garden (also no date as I am hopeless.)  Look, another dog.  Weird.  Could it be Fiske as well?  Unidentified, darn.

And then the flip of a few more pages.  This is a most delightful image of Hadley at the front door.  Notice the faithful friend bottom right.  Clearly, I have no idea if this is a Fiske piece, but he bears a striking resemblance to Christopher’s new acquisitions.

Post script: My editor from Spaces just emailed to tell me that Richard Lowell Neas is from Kansas City.  I knew you’d want to know.

Images of additional Fiske pieces, artnet.com;  Neas photograph by Jacques Dirand; Hadley photographs by one of my favorite interior photographers, Oberto Gili.

A week or so later I had a chance encounter with a lovely, lovely woman here in Kansas City.  Blonde and elegant, clad in crisp white blouse, I could not help but notice the fabulous pin at her throat.  A large oval dog portrait of a once beloved spaniel, nearly two inches from top to bottom, beautifully set and encircled with seed pearls.  My muse gave me a poke.

Pointer, Paris Hotel Boutique

So off I went on-line to see what I could see.  Portrait jewelry, be it animals or people, was very popular with the Victorians.

Bullmastiff, Nelson and Nelson

I found a good selection of enamel and Essex Crystal jewelry.  The Essex Crystal pieces were sculpted into a dome on one side, carved out to create the portrait on the back, then painted in reverse.

Most of the settings I uncovered were simple pins or stick pins, but the Pinscher, above, is encircled by his lead.  

Pit Bull Terrier, ebay

The pricing seemed to range quite a bit from very dear to whim-worthy.

Boston Terrier charm, ebay

But who doesn’t have someone on their list who’s mad for his or her dog?

Be it his noble hunter?

Or her rascally twins?

Hound cufflinks, The Three Graces

And while it may not resemble your pooch exactly, you have to appreciate those sentimental Victorians.

Cairn Terrier, The Three Graces

They were not afraid to wear their heart on their sleeves.  Or lapels.

Surely, you can’t look and those eyes and not bring Lassie home.