While it seems that most people are seeking a simpler, more minimal approach to spaces, George Vandenbergh is renovating his basement to accommodate a three-ton limestone fireplace from England dating back to the 15th-century War of the Roses. Because he and his wife Barbara "have a thing about castles" and a passion for antiques, the modest Tudor bungalow they bought in Mississauga 17 years ago keeps growing additional wings to accommodate newly found treasures -- gargoyles and caryatids, pediments and pillars. Now the place is like a miniature version of mad Ludwig of Bavaria's fantasy castle, Neuschwanstein.
It all began when Vandenbergh, a real-estate entrepreneur in his mid-forties, had to buy an entire antique collector's collection to get the piece he really wanted. He suggested to Barbara, who is several years his senior and rather savvy on the subject of antiques, that perhaps they should open a store. The result became Antique Treasure Traders, the enormous two-level store he constructed in the centre of the Harbourfront Antiques Market.
Then, when Ed Mirvish closed Ed's Warehouse Restaurant, the Vandenberghs were the first in line to buy the cream of the crop. Their favourite thing is from that collection. Salome is a life-size dancing figure by Victorian sculptor Affortunato Gory. It is of the same Carrara marble that has been mined almost to extinction since Michelangelo sought it out for its pure, white surfaces. Vandenbergh won't say what he paid for it. "Let's just say less than six figures and that Christie's were shocked at what a bargain it was." Vandenbergh smiles, "Mirvish's son is into contemporary art. As far as he is concerned all this stuff is 'rubbish' -- or words to that effect."
Barbara remembers always wanting to sit next to Salome when she dined at the restaurant. Now she can see her every time she sits at her own dining table. George enjoys her from the living room couch. Things in the house may seem randomly placed but, Vanderbergh says, "I design every room so it looks great from where I sit and every sitting spot has a different scene." Mirrors hang behind pieces like Salome so they can be enjoyed from more than one angle at a time.
In the living room, as he leans back on one of the large buttoned leather sofas acquired from the Eatons family, two of their four toy Maltese dogs settle comfortably across his chest getting gently stroked. The Wheaton terrier lounges nearby. He muses, "There is nothing in this house that I do not love." And Vandenbergh obviously loves a lot. Additions and renovations can't keep up to his collecting.
In the basement study, decorated in Gothic style with carved oak pulpit and railings salvaged from a church, secret bookcase shelves pivot to reveal a hidden billiard room. Artifacts are piled up in every direction. Ten-foot high carved oak pilasters are waiting to be part of a future home theatre. Elsewhere construction is under way to house the limestone fireplace.
If the Vandenberghs get tired of living with something it goes to Antique Treasure Traders. Recently the dressing-room armoires went down to the store. Barbara stands in the room among piles of clothes and antiques that don't seem to know if they are coming or going and admits cheerfully that she cannot find anything.
There is a Disney make-believe quality to some parts of the house, a kitsch theatricality. But the Vandenberghs just follow their bliss. "Maybe when you are older you compensate for what you never had as a kid. You couldn't have things because you couldn't afford them, or they weren't good for you," says George. Because his Dad didn't want him to drive as a teenager he had a collection of 62 cars. His mother's house is still too Spartan for him to bear. "Whenever I go there I get bored. I fix it in my mind and then I give up."
The Gothic study off the main hallway is so believable that the fax machine sitting on the floor seems like the anachronism. The Vandenberghs had the walls panelled in dark gumwood and the ceiling faux painted in deep crimson. The painter was asked to match it to leather sofa cushions in the living room. The leaded windows came with the original house.
With the stage set, the Vandenberghs brought in the appropriate furnishings. The light fixture has bronze double-headed dragons suspended on chains from the griffins above. The glass is yellow mica with a few large glass "jewels." There is a matching set of Victorian Gothic Revival office furniture -- a desk, a cupboard, an armchair, two side chairs, two stools and a throne. The grandfather clock is hundreds of years older and matches the set. The ink well combines French ormolu in the shape of satyrs with an art-deco granite base and spherical light. Leaning against a window on the other side of the room is a large stained-glass window depicting St. Michael in deep jewel tones. It was made by three artisans, one of whom was William Morris, the father of the British Arts and Crafts movement over 100 years ago. The Persian rug is "nothing special." Vanderbergh says, "We do not buy pieces just for the pedigree. We buy what we like."
The Vandenberghs' biggest antiques are their real-estate purchases, like the old George Weston family mansion on Toronto's Palmerston Avenue. After 40 years of neglect the Vanderberghs are now lovingly taking it apart, fixing it and putting it back together, divided into condominiums. Each will have its original features restored and re-installed except for one of the entry doors, which was stolen. Even the offer of a large reward has not brought them back, so an old-world craftsman is reproducing them.
Saving the past is like a mission. In Toronto's west end he bought Wallace Station, an old glue factory, and turned it into lofts. Whatever could be salvaged was incorporated back into the building and the custom-designed units. Vandenbergh's philosophy is, "We do in our real estate what we do in our home." He feels if you are going to spend money you should do things that are going to be worth something for decades to come. You put some effort into preserving well-made pieces from the past.
When Montreal lost the Van Horne mansion to a wrecker's ball in 1970, the city woke up and began to value its past, according to Vandenbergh. But Toronto, he fears, is still happy to tear anything down and replace it with the bland and utilitarian. He gets furious when he thinks of how people, like his late brother-in-law, buy a perfectly good Victorian house and then "systematically destroy every feature." Sitting in the living room it is obvious that modern will never be the Vandenbergh style. Tinted sunlight comes in through the walls of stained glass. The dogs continue to lounge on or beside George. Barbara sets a tea tray with gilt china and sterling silver spoons down next to a piece of bronze chariot statuary on a glass-topped coffee table made of huge, carved architectural capitols. "I love clutter," she says. "I love being surrounded by beautiful things that keep saying things. Telling their stories." George adds, "You don't get tired of beautiful things. They give you a rush every time you look at them."
Antique Treasure Traders 416-260-2222 or http://www.antiquetreasuretraders.com Rooms That Work is written and produced by Janice Lindsay, interior colour designer, PINK Colour + Design. If you have a room that works, call 416-961-6281 or contact jlindsay@interlog.com.
Key elements
PHILOSOPHY: Buy for love, not just pedigree. A large stained-glass window was made by William Morris, father of the British Arts and Crafts movement over 100 years ago. A Persian rug is "nothing special." STYLE: Disney make-believe and kitsch theatricality, sure. But every piece tells a story. SPACE: Always make a scene. Things may seem randomly placed but, George says, "I design every room so it looks great from where I sit."