: Notting Hill is the neighborhood and the street is Portobello
Road, a narrow old London street hardly wide enough for two cars
to pass. It is historic, as most of the city is, and lined with
charming old buildings. It is a place where people live, and as
city life goes, it is quiet and easy to get about, with bus stops
on the corners and subway entrances at the ends.
For 52 Saturdays, however, Portobello Road is the self-proclaimed
"world's largest antiques market" and, without doubt, among the
best known. For only three short blocks, the buildings become
antiques stalls and the street parking fills with vendors' carts,
tents and canopies. Dealers set up with valuable jewelry and
simple costume jewelry; there is Imperial Russian silver, plate
and old Sheffield plate hollowware and flatware; Eighteenth
Century Staffordshire and Twentieth Century Fiesta ware;
furniture, textiles, antique Persian rugs and art. Hundreds of
exhibiting dealers are there with their collections; exactly how
many is anyone's guess, especially when counting those who share
spaces.
There are so many customers crowding the street, it is comparable
to subways in rush hour. Movement is slow, and often during the
middle of the day, a short wait is required to get close enough
to a particular table or display to carefully inspect the
dealer's merchandise.
On a recent Saturday, the activity began at 4:30 am when only the
hardiest dealers had arrived. They knew where the coffee was
ready, for at that time of the morning, only coffee would do; tea
was definitely not strong enough. Some people were unloading;
others were just opening some buildings for their stall holders.
A few were discussing their acquisitions since the last time they
had met one another. It was a slow and easy start to the early
predawn of the day.
Setting up early, lost in the thought of the morning.
At 7 am, it was still dark at ground level and the sky had
the early morning blue with a few stars still twinkling. Nobody
noticed, however, for by then they were into the morning rush to
make their nine-hour sale ready for the public. Carts were
everywhere, porters carried boxes, and "'scuse me, mum" or "comin'
through, chaps" were the passwords for the time. And there were the
early refrains of "What's ma best far it?" and "Take 5 quid?"
The market had begun.
There were the two ladies from a nearby neighborhood who had
pushed wheeled baskets from home with their small antiques and
display cabinets. Set out on rental tables, Diane Norman and Dawn
Kaunat were offering silver for the dining table, heirloom
jewelry and a large selection of miniature paintings on ivory. Of
particular note was a painting of a soldier, circa 1780, with a
small cutting of his hair in the frame and with a price of 125
"quid" - slang for pound, which when converted came to $215.
Just down the way a bit was Bridget Burridge, also of London,
with her extensive collection of doll house furniture. Trude
Weaver has a shop on the street open most days but not on Sunday.
In the window was a child's horse carved from pine with front
wheels controlled by the turning head. Weaver said it was
Swedish, that was where it was purchased, and the asking price
was $600.
The many buildings on the street were at one time used for
something other than antiques stalls, but today many of them are
used only on Saturdays, with dealers coming in the morning for
the setup and sale. The Good Fairy is one such site. Dealers rent
a space about 5 feet wide and deep, separated from the next with
a wire mesh and containing a table that the dealer ducks under in
order to enter. Some do not even stand in the back, choosing
instead to fill the space with tables and shelves for their
collections. Dealers in this shop offered jewelry - both antique
and estate - vintage clothing; silver hollowware and flatware;
and some had small boxes, including tea caddies and humidors,
even vintage sporting gear and clocks.
Dolphin Arcade offers larger spaces to its dealers, but these are
still not very large. Exhibits were spacious enough to have a
variety of larger antiques, including art on the walls and a
small amount of furniture. These stalls were for some fairly
high-value antiques, including brass and early porcelain.
The Admiral Vernon Art Market.
In the Admiral Vernon Antiques Center, spaces seemed to be
the largest. Here dealers were on two floors and spread out in
spaces that were as big as 6 by 10 feet. Peter Harris, a clock
dealer had at least 100 early clocks in his lower floor stall,
including two long case clocks. One from Birmingham was made by C.
Nicholas in 1805 and priced at $14,600 and the other was by Brian
Loomes for $5,000.
Panton Gallery was a shop independent of the others, with three
small rooms filled with Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century dishes,
Chinese export, English porcelain, French faïence and even some
pottery from the Mediterranean.
One couple immigrated to London 35 years ago from Greece with a
90-day visa; they did so well and liked the work, they became
permanent residents and dealers. Their specialty is silver and
they were making deals on this particular Saturday too quickly to
carefully spell their name.
Portobello is not a show; it is a happening that takes place
every Saturday, even though there are many shops on the street
open during the week. Dealers and shopkeepers have formed an
association with a mission to keep the dealings reputable and
fun. Their guide can be obtained at the shops. For more
information about the activities and dealers,
www.portobelloroad.co.uk.
