The Silver Antiques Insider

Let The Bells Ring!

When a group of elementary school teachers in Ottawa, Ontario decided to change the lyrics to “Silver Bells” for a sing-a-long concert some parents grew downright fervourous. According to a report from CBC News they were planning to replace the phrase “Christmas day” with “a festive day” until the parents voiced concern.

I really don’t see what all the fuss is about and frankly I don’t think Ray Evans, who wrote the lyrics, would have cared for this either. Though Ray Evans joined his writing partner Jay Livingston in the great beyond earlier this year we still have access to this telling feature, produced by NPR back in 2005, all about Evans and his role in the origin of "Silver Bells."

The song debuted in 1951 in this scene from a Bob Hope holiday film entitled The Lemon Drop Kid.

Bing Crosby recorded a version for radio-play shortly thereafter and a long list of entertainers followed suit. The song has since been recorded and performed countless times. It has sold over 500 million copies and it has undergone almost as many re-arrangements and re-interpretations.

So I find it hard to imagine why anyone would take offense if the school kids had performed their modified version. Alas, in the end, they decided to drop the song from their program altogether.

In lieu of their performance I plundered my own collection of Christmas albums for different versions of the song and then spent yesterday afternoon browsing the Salvation Army record bins before enlisting the aid of Conor, young nephew to my neighbour Alice. He managed to find digital copies of some of my old favourites plus a few additions of his own and many more that neither of us had ever heard before.

This morning we pared our collection down and arranged for you this rather eclectic playlist.

Merry Christmas from Nelson & Nelson Antiques!

Silver Bells by The Ventures:

Silver Bells by The Heritage Hall Jazz Band:

Silver Bells by Twisted Sister:

Silver Bells by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band:

Silver Bells by Jacob Miller:

The Kittens' Tea Party

Victorian taxidermist Walter Potter is back in the headlines. He received a fair bit of press when his collected works hit the auction block at Bonhams a few years ago. Now the previous owners are suing the auctioneers for not accepting the lucrative offer made by none other than YBA poster boy Damien Hirst (whose latest installation can be viewed in the lobby of the Lever House just down the street from Nelson & Nelson Antiques).

With that kind of money being thrown around I don’t think I’ll ever be able to afford an actual piece of Potter-phernalia but somewhere stashed away in a box I’ve got the next best thing. My British pen pal once sent me a postcard bearing an image of The Kittens’ Tea Party tableau. Many long afternoons were spent imagining the sort of catty remarks one might hear at that table.

“Mew, what a splendid set of tea-urns!” Minnie said to her esteemed hostess, Lady Permelia.

“Why thank you, meow-meow. They’re sterling, you know – been in my family’s possession since 1833.”

“More mouse tarts!” said Florence to the waiter. In an effort to be heard over the tinkle of teaspoons and ceaseless chatter she sprayed a fine mist of pastry crumbs across the table. Theodosia swung her head to dodge the crumbs and caught the tail end of a different conversation. “Heaven forefend!” Her ginger paw leapt to cover her mouth. “HOW big was her litter?”

“Sterling my mee-ow-za,” Winnie whispered privately to Ginny. “Lady P is putting on the dog. I do believe that urn is of a Sheffield plate.”

“Meow, Maxine,” Henrietta leaned forward with a pregnant pause and a determinedly malicious glint in her eye that commanded the attention of everyone at the table (save for Florence). “Was that not Thomas I witnessed exiting your quarters by way of the alley late last Thursday night?”

All eyes turned to Little Maxie who blushed, looked down at her plate, and voiced a barely audible “Mew.”

On Vampire Hunting

Since its discovery sometime in the 4th millennium BCE, silver gradually garnered a reputation for its ability to ward off evil. Over time, certain attractive properties of the element, namely its medicinal qualities and ethereal sheen, were bolstered by references in myth, religion, and alchemy, and often attributed to a lunar association. This created a potent blend of silver mysticism that has laced popular fiction not only in tales of the werewolf, but also those of its shape-shifting counterpart - the vampire.

The quintessential vampire tale, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, was published in 1897. It was a period rife with scientific advances and fin de siecle anxieties. Many people were excited by the prospects, yet wary of impending changes and reluctant to forego the customs of their ancestors. These facts were duly noted by Stoker and made manifest in his work. Late 19th century innovations like the typewriter and the phonograph appear, as do many Old World conventions and phylacteries.

In one scene, early in the story, Count Dracula looms up behind Jonathan Harker as he’s shaving, startling him so that he cuts himself with the razor.

“This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror!”

Contemporary readers armed with the right brand of background knowledge could have found this plausible for two reasons: 1) vampires were believed to lead a hollow, wandering existence without a soul upon which to reflect, and 2) mirrors were made of silver and could therefore act as a potential safeguard against all manner of monsters and the undead.

In the end, only the character of Dr. Van Helsing, himself a burgeoning man of science, can help destroy the Count with his encyclopedic knowledge of Eastern European folklore.

Dracula set the precedent for vampire fiction and eventually won a place in the literary canon. Stoker’s work inspired a myriad of adaptations in a whole array of media and spawned an expansive vampire subculture.

As a result, vampire lore has now grown so vast and ambiguous as to become a shape-shifting entity in its own right. Some vampires can be knocked flat with garlic breath while others require a more complicated effort. At some point, silver mysticism fell into desuetude. Bob Bankard (www.phillyburbs.com) claims that the modern vampire hunter’s “faith in pure metals is making a comeback" yet the brood of bloodsuckers in David Slade’s new film, 30 Days Of Night, is all but immune to the silver-flecked and garlic-scented implements of yore. And what are we to make of sterling silver vampfangs and vampire grillz?

Tonight the veil between the living and the dead will be at its thinnest. Extraordinary things are bound to occur before the sun comes up. It may not help, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to keep some silver within arm’s reach in the odd chance you should find a bona fide, medieval revenant at your door.

Happy Halloween from Nelson & Nelson Antiques!