In the second episode of At Home With the Georgians: A Woman’s Touch, Amanda Vickery mentioned metamorphic furniture and (remarkably) turned a desk into a bed. A visitor to Tony Grant’s excellent post left this question: What is metamorphic furniture?
Modern example of metamorphic furniture: hall table/card table
Tony answered the question admirably. This mechanical furniture, wide-spread in Georgian times, had a dual use. A small folding staircase could be transformed into chair or desk, such as a writing table, library table, or card table. These pieces of furniture were great space savers, as I can attest. Only last week I transformed my faux-Georgian hall table into a card table for my guests. I never guessed until Tony’s post that I owned an example of mechanical furniture. Sweet!
The only change I would make in the video (besides the annoying lilt in my voice) is to make sure that the next time I film an example of my furniture, it is thoroughly dusted and cleaned! Extra points if you can spot my pooch in one of the scenes. His hang dog expression tells me that he was out of sorts, having been told to stay put.
This Victorian piano at the Brooklyn Museum pulls out into a bed. Fascinating. The video is available to view until March 2011.
READ MORE: If your interest in the topic is piqued, Clive Taylor (who also left a comment on the previous post) has written a dissertation on the topic (click here to read The Regency Period Metamorphic Chair) and sells metamorphic library chairs/stairs in his shop, Parbold Antiques.
Just got back from a days shopping in Kingston. I say shopping, it was more like entering a rugby scrum.
The place was frantic. I think the population of Kingston was trying to “spend” the country out of recession on it’s own.
Great piece about metamorphic furniture, Vic and your voice was a real treat to hear. You sound lovely.
Tony.
How fun is that?! I so enjoyed hearing your voice, seeing that little patch of home AND a glimpse of your dog. I want your table!
I agree, a most charming lilt. Interesting post – as a sometime antique dealer and restorer I love this kind of thing. I’d love to see the piano/bed conversion. At one moment you are singing duets, then at the press of a button (in a more modern version perchance) you are next… Losing a ‘g’ and adding another ‘n’ in the process.
Fascinating!
If you have ever read Patrick O’Brian’s books about Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin, you will remember that a character gifted Stephen with a metamorphic that he could take with him on his sea travels.
Sharon, I think it was Diana who had it made a great expense but it was rather bulky and prone to damage so as far as i recall they packed it away in the hold!
Ha ha ha ha! I remember that – Stephen didnt know whether to bless it or curse it. He both prized it and wished it at the bottom of the sea.
[…] architectural language. The juxtaposition is at once witty and strange: a piece of Georgian metamorphic furniture is topped with Philip Johnson’s AT&T pediment; a Piranesian drawing shows squiggly […]
[…] about metamorphic furniture (which is different from mechanical furniture) at this link. Share with others:Like this:LikeBe the first to like […]
‘ . . Captain Aubrey called it “The Article,” which appellation also applied to chamber pots. Eventually, thanks to the attentions of the Captain’s steward, Preserved Killick, it became known simply, and reverentially, as The Object.
Early in their marriage Diana had given Stephen a singularly splendid but nameless example of the cabinet-maker’s art and ingenuity: it could be, and generally was, a music-stand, but various levers and flaps turned it into a wash basin, a small but quite adequate desk, a medicine-chest and a book-case, and it had seven secret drawers or compartments; it also contained an astrolabe, a sundial, a perpetual calendar and a quantity of cut-glass bottles and ivory brushes and combs; but what really pleased Killick was the fact that its hinges, keyhole-scutcheons, door-straps, finger-plates, bottle-stoppers and all other fittings were massive gold. He took idolatrous care of it – the padded cloth was only the innermost of its three rough-weather cases – and he thought his captain’s name for it improper, disrespectful and out of place. Object was the appropriate word – a word that had not the remotest connection with chamber-pot but on the contrary with holiness: holy object – and steadily, for years, Killick had tried to impose it.’
(Letter of Marque) courtesy of http://bill-sheehan.livejournal.com/130802.html?thread=256242