Finders, Keepers

Sandy Klempner is on the hunt. As with most self-respecting predators, her quest is solitary and undertaken in the pre-dawn darkness. Dressed in a stylish, short black trench coat, she trolls the fields, noting pinpoints of light coming from beyond the stand of trees ahead.

That means the “flashlight people”—like herself—are out in force at this early hour, looking, looking, looking. That means the competition is heating up. And then she nearly stumbles over it.

Poking out from underneath a table, as if it wants to be seen, is a wooden sign, in the shape of a fish, very old, with what Klempner quickly assesses as “great paint,” meaning the weather-beaten surface has crackled over time, retaining some of its original color. “It has a wonderful age to it,” Klempner says approvingly as she lifts the drop cloth that partially obscures the fish, “which gives it a much stronger presence, patina, and interest.”

As she continues to deliberate, poking around further underneath the table, she’s interrupted by an annoyed voice.

“What’s going on? Can’t a body get any sleep around here?” snarls the dealer who, though ostensibly selling the wooden fish, is not at his post. He tumbles out of a nearby van in his underwear, clearly having overslept while potential customers poke through his wares.
Klempner, an elegant woman with a down-to-earth manner, hastens to explain that no, she’s not trying to steal from him, she just wants a gander at the fish. The man grumbles but turns back for proper clothes and is out again in seconds, suddenly relishing the prospect of a motivated buyer who has taken the bait.

As he pulls out the wooden fish, Klempner’s heart skips a beat. “Oh, this is good,” she says excitedly. The fish has been salvaged from an old barn in Maine and is inscribed with the words “Tuna Inn.” She pronounces it “the most beautiful thing” even though it's covered with bird droppings, since that tells her it’s the genuine article that has been pressed into years of service, not a cleverly made reproduction.

“I’ll take it,” Klempner says triumphantly, making her very first deal, on a day in which there will be much negotiating, much give-and-take, much split-second decision-making.

“Brimfield,” Klempner confides as she heads to her next conquest, “is all about possibilities.”

On this particular day, Klempner is one of thousands who will be tantalized by those possibilities at Brimfield; simply uttering the name of the place sets antiquarians and collectors salivating like chocoholics in Willy Wonka’s factory. Home to what’s billed as the largest outdoor antiques and collectibles fair in New England (and about an hour’s drive from the heart of the Berkshires), the event draws thousands of visitors for its May and July shows, and thousands more for its September expo, which is the last of the year. The fields stretch back three to five acres from a one-mile section of Route 20 in central Massachusetts, inviting inspection of the displays of five thousand vendors.

The draw is worldwide, as evidenced by the number of German, French, Japanese, and British accents overheard mingling with the babble of purely American dialects. Over the last half-century, this gathering has garnered international fame with seekers of the unique and the unusual.
“Look around and you can find everything here,” says Klempner, pointing the way with hands outstretched. She has come to this mecca of collectibles with a mission: to procure the one-of-a-kind pieces found at her carefully curated shop, Sandy Klempner Antiques & Interiors in Canaan, New York.

As the sun rises over the treetops, latecomers arrive, yawning and bleary-eyed, their clothes shrugged on inside-out, fortified with large styrofoam cups of coffee. Klempner, by contrast, proceeds apace, weaving in and out among the throngs whose desire to hunt for decorative items at the May show stems from a pent-up need, built up over a long winter indoors. “Cabin fever, I call it,” says William Simonic, founder of the website www.brimfield.com and owner of the Yankee Cricket Bed and Breakfast in town.

The allure of the Brimfield Antique and Flea Market is that it offers items you never knew you needed to own, until, of course, you see them, laid out enticingly over acres and acres of fields. The categories simply boggle the mind. Brimfield satisfies cravings for 1930s hand-embroidered laundry bags, Civil War-era uniforms, vintage coffee grinders, botanical prints, Victorian-era chandeliers, nineteenth- and early twentieth-century grain sacks turned into fashion-forward settees, pillows and handbags, or an old bowling alley lane recycled and repurposed into a gleaming dining table. And that’s just a sampling.

“It’s wild and crazy and funky, it’s all here,” enthuses Klempner, who keeps moving, before stopping suddenly in front of a full-sized metal corral gate displayed by a Nebraska dealer.
“Isn’t this fabulous?” she says, adding, “Somebody made it by hand,” as she admires the figures adorning the gate: a cowboy wielding a lasso, accompanied by a cowgirl. Still, this gate doesn’t end up going home with Klempner, much to her disappointment. While it might appeal to any number of equine fanciers among her clientele, she regretfully passes after realizing the seller won’t budge enough on the price. It’s simply too steep for resale to her retail customers.

Easy come, easy go for Klempner, who moves forward with enthusiasm intact, knowing something else will dazzle her just minutes later. Finding decorative items that don’t resemble something you could find in anybody else’s house is her specialty. She explains how she makes her selections, underscoring that the appeal is instant: “Something that will pull you from across the room,” Klempner explains. “Things that pop, that have that wow factor…. When you buy items that are not mass-produced, it allows your home to be much more individual.”

Klempner buys two stone capitals and two stone owls from a British dealer and is still browsing as a big-city decorator breezes in. “I’ve kept these under wraps just for you!” cries the British dealer to the decorator, removing piled-up blankets with a flourish. Underneath, Klempner spies two exquisite stone tables, one of which she finds more spectacular than the other. Its base is a building topper, probably from early nineteenth-century England, in the shape of a castle. She holds her breath, watches, waits, and wonder of wonders, the decorator takes the table Klempner doesn’t want.

Victory comes to those who hang back and hover. Klempner says there have been instances when she’ll firmly rest her fingers on an item to signal others that she is still processing whether or not to buy. Occasionally, this game rises to the level of contact sport, as eager potential buyers jostle and elbow their way in, wanting their own shot at the merchandise. But there is an unwritten yet well-understood etiquette at Brimfield that says, “Hands-on is nine-tenths of the law.”

While the early bird may get the biggest piece of the first-come-first-served pie, that doesn’t mean treasures can’t also be found in fields that have already been picked over. Even if you’ve stepped onto a field that opened days before, Klempner says, “Look and look and look again.” Going back minutes or even days later is like seeing things with a fresh set of eyeballs.

Knowing her clients’ needs, Klempner trains her seasoned appraisal skills on each object with an eye toward both form and function. A leather-and-ticking horse collar is easily re-imagined as a frame for a household mirror. An amusement park ring-toss cat with a wide red “O” for a mouth could have new life as a whimsical focal point for a child’s bedroom.

In September 2009, Brimfield J & J Promotions show celebrated its fiftieth anniversary. The first iteration was the brainchild of Gordon Reid, Sr., whose J & J Promotions Auction Acres held the first massive outdoor sale that started it all, back in 1959. He invited sixty-seven exhibitors to the family’s property, unwittingly launching a legend.

“He knew antiques like the back of his hand,” reminisces Reid’s daughter Judy Reid (one of the “J’s” in the initials “J & J”, along with sister Jill). The family business has continued to welcome visitors to the event, right down to a fourth generation.

Hours later, Klempner is taking a break from buying to sell some of her own merchandise on the sunny field known as “Dealer’s Choice.” She’s been coming here for fourteen years, the last twelve as a dealer. She credits early trips to Brimfield with inspiring her to trade in her previous career as design director for Coach Leatherware in New York City and hang out her entrepreneurial “shingle,” running her own antiques and interior design business in Canaan.

In addition to “Dealer’s Choice,” where Klempner presides this day, other fields lure visitors with quaint names like “Green Acres,” “Heart O’ The Mart,” and “New England Motel.” No matter when they arrive, each visitor can optimize his or her chance of making that “killer find,” as a new field with new merchandise opens up every day for six days.

Brimfield, a sensory-overload experience if ever there was one, can be intimidating for the first-timer. The key is not to expect to see every field and every item. “That’s like running the 440 in fifteen seconds,” says Simonic. Often, on a first foray, it helps to go with a “regular” who knows the lay of the land.

And Brimfield is not for the faint of heart. There’s a good deal of walking involved, so wearing comfortable shoes is advised. Klempner is among those who also get around on bicycle. Weather conditions can range from cool to blistering hot, so stowing sunscreen or a hat in a backpack or purse and wearing layered clothing is also a good idea.

Time can evaporate quickly, as visitors walk, talk, and discuss sales with dealers. “Look at your watch when you start down one aisle,” Simonic advises. “When you’re done, look at your watch again, then multiply it by forty or fifty to determine how long it will take to see everything.”

While Klempner puts price tags on items she sells, that’s not the case with every dealer. Haggling over price is de rigueur here, and it can’t hurt to ask (respectfully) Would you accept…? when trying to arrive at a price lower than the original dealer quote. The dealer might be motivated, if he wants to get it off his hands or if it’s the end of a long week and he simply doesn’t want to haul it back home.

Even though Brimfield is aimed largely at dealers, the public jumps into the fray, mostly on the weekends. “Brimfield is the most democratic place of business,” says Marlene Marshall, an artist, author, and partner in Madison Art and Antiques of Sheffield, Massachusetts, and Hudson, New York. “Junk dealers set up next to a high-end art dealer,” she notes, emphasizing the egalitarian nature of the event.

It doesn’t take long for mere novices to get caught up in the excitement, as they become quick studies in the art of the deal. “There is the underlying aspect of the great find … the score,” Marshall points out, which energizes both dealers and dabblers in the antiques-and-collectibles universe.
Many predicted the death of Brimfield several years back, with the rise of eBay, which allows Internet trading of antiques and collectibles worldwide with the click of a mouse. But Simonic reports that rumors of its demise were greatly exaggerated. Brimfield regulars are “touchy-feely people,” he says, who crave the satisfaction of that tactile, first-person experience.

At day’s end, it’s amusing to see people scurry home with their treasures. One shirtless young man hauls a heavy barrel away on slender shoulders. Another couple carries—well, what exactly is it?—several oblong pieces of wood, suspended from a tree branch that has been pressed into service as a makeshift carryall. Observing the passing scene and what buyers seize upon, observes Judy Reid, is an entertaining pastime. She asks herself: What on earth would you do with that? when an item seems particularly bizarre. “We have a ball,” she says with a laugh, enjoying the process as much as the buyers do.

No matter what you’re willing to pay, much of the satisfaction of the event involves getting at least one great deal and having an accompanying “Brimfield story” to brag about to your friends back home. “I never walked away without something,” says Klempner, pointing out that one can spend as little as ten dollars or as much as ten thousand dollars and still be happy with the loot.

Judy Reid agrees. “They need something to take back home and say, ‘I got this in Brimfield.’”
Reid becomes wistful, thinking about her father’s legacy, which is still going strong a half-century later. “His vision has come true, no doubt about it,” she says. “He would be amazed.”

So, too, are the pilgrims who return to this Promised Land year after year. Relaxing in her lawn chair for perhaps the first time all day, Klempner is bone-weary but deeply satisfied with her purchases and sales. She watches the rambles of Bear, her honey-colored puffball of a rescue dog—whom she refers to as a “Taconic terrier” in a nod to his indeterminate parentage—and offers a final word on the real lure of Brimfield.

“The enduring appeal is,” she smiles with a glint in her eye, “it always changes.” [MAY 2010]

Mary Beth Wenger is a former Berkshire County Bureau Chief for CBS 6 television news in Albany, N.Y. She currently lives in Rensselaer County, N.Y.

THE GOODS

The Brimfield Antiques
and Collectible Shows
Brimfield, Mass.
May 11-16
Jul 13-18
Sept 7-12

 
Sandy Klempner Antiques
& Interiors
2188 Route 295
Canaan, N.Y.
518.781.3456