PORTFOLIO I fi rst met Fred North in the early 1970s when I was a young antiques dealer. Fred had been a well-known dealer, specializing in many different fi elds throughout his long and varied career. In his early years he sold French furniture and fi ne china, but eventually he specialized 152 in Oriental art, arms and armor, and tribal art. When I met him he was more than eighty years old and had retired, but still paid regular visits to his London shop at 99 Crawford Street, often coming in two or three times a week. The space was large and had a basement, but instead of antiques the windows then displayed a range of old washing machines and picture frames. The gloomy interior still contained many large mahogany display cabinets, now empty. The basement stored more picture frames and also several tea chests full of Australian clubs and damaged or incomplete Polynesian adzes, clubs, and bowls. Hundreds of African spears were in one corner. At the time all these artifacts were virtually worthless. I enjoyed listening to Fred talk about his interesting life. He had left home at fourteen, lying about his age so he could join the army as a regimental drummer boy. He traveled to South Africa and became a bugler in a military band. Later he injured his leg and was discharged but recovered suffi ciently to join up with the Royal Canadian Regiment, and he traveled to Nova Scotia. This was not a success, so after a short spell he bought his discharge and ended up in Pennsylvania working on the railroad. While unloading a barrel of sulfuric acid, it burst over him, leaving him permanently scarred on his legs, and even in old age he suffered from weeping wounds. By 1916 he had returned to England, married, and joined a jazz band as a trombonist. On a chance visit to the Caledonian Market, he spotted a Zulu shield and two knobkerries, which reminded him of Africa, so he bought them, and this eventually led him to become a collector. His career as a musician fl ourished, he joined the Jack Hylton Orchestra, and he made regular appearances on the BBC and at the London Palladium. By the 1930s his large collection of curios had outgrown his small house, and this led him to his fi nal career, selling antiques. In 1932 he opened his shop on Crawford Street. Numerous famous customers visited him over the years, including Queen Mary, sculptor Jacob Epstein, and cartoonist Ronald Searle. One Monday morning in February of 1974 while visiting Fred, I asked him before leaving when he was coming to the shop again. He replied it would be on Friday. However, at noon the following day, a Tuesday, I happened to pass his shop again and was surprised to fi nd him there, so I stopped by. He told me that since it was a sunny day he had changed his mind. A few minutes later a young woman came in looking for “Mr. North.” This was her third attempt, each time before having found the shop closed, and this was to be her fi nal effort. She had inherited some tribal pieces from the estate How a Chance Visit with a London Art Dealer Led Me to William OLDMAN By Robert Hales FIG. 1 (right): William Oldman with his collection in his home at 77 Brixton Hill, London, circa 1920. Oldman is holding a decorated skull and above his head is a Tibetan bone apron. The room is decorated with numerous masks from New Caledonia, Africa, New Guinea, the Canadian Northwest Coast, Polynesia, Japan(?), etc. On the left is part of a large Egyptian sarcophagus mask that he purchased from the great-niece of Lady Jane Franklin, and next to it hangs a large mask from the Torres Straits. of the late Mrs. Dorothy Oldman, the widow of famed collector and dealer William Ockelford Oldman, and someone had recommended Fred North to her. Fred had known Mrs. Oldman but had not seen her for several years and was extremely sorry to learn that she had died. He told the young woman that he was now retired and suggested that I might be able to help her. I eagerly arranged to meet her at Mrs. Oldman’s small fl at in Streatham in South London later that evening. I was bubbling with excitement for the rest of the afternoon. When eventually the evening arrived, we met outside the modern block of fl ats where Mrs. Oldman had lived. The small study contained the remains of Oldman’s library, mainly documents and photographs, along with a number of spears, clubs, and a small collection of Philippine spoons. On the fl oor sat three
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