BEAUTIFUL BAGUETTES

Detail from a circa 1920s photo of a geometric diamond clip brooch, Gustav Manz archive, courtesy The Joseph Downs Collection, Winterthur Museum

The vintage Parke-Bernet catalog for liquidation of "valuable jewelry" from the estate of John Kirkpatrick seemed, at first glance, a dull census of stones and carats with a modicum of photos to engage Depression era tire-kickers. The Jazz Age had run out of gas—no more madcap soirees, like the night Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald collected jewelry from guests and served it back to them in tomato broth. In March 1932, when the Kirkpatrick gems went on the block, LIFE magazine's cover was an F.G. Cooper caricature of the Big Bad Wolf in Grandma Prosperity's bed, with Little Red Riding Hood cowering in the corner, clutching a passbook and tax bill in her basket of goodies. 

 

Newlyweds Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald at her mother's home in 1921; the following year, Scott published his story "The Diamond As Big As the Ritz" (Time Life Pictures/Mansell/Getty Images)

 Vogue's July 1926 cover by Edward Garcia Benito promoted "Hot Weather Fashions" spelled out in diamonds (image Conde Nast Publications) 

Even with wolf at the door, the Kirkpatrick name drew a crowd of serious buyers to the Anderson Galleries. On day one of the sale, 36-year-old Harry Winston picked up a platinum-set diamond bracelet for $2,100 and a necklace with one hundred and twenty-three Oriental pearls (239.82 grains) and a diamond snap for $2,000. Starting as a wholesaler, Winston purchased and re-sold rare gems using the social register for his mailing list, as The New Yorker's Lillian Ross later wrote. Now he was stocking his first retail store at 527 Fifth Avenue, betting that happy days would come again for his customers whether Hoover or FDR won November's election. 

  Kirkpatrick estate sale catalog, March 10-12, 1932; Margaret Wallace displays assorted gems from Harry Winston's "Court of Jewels" exhibit, August 1949

The first day's session brought in $44,192 according to The New York Times; the second day, $53,497—for a cumulative total of $97, 689 or about $1.6 million in today's dollars. And there was a third session still to come. As we flipped to the final day's lots, what to our wondering eyes did appear but brooch we instantly recognized — Eureka!—as identical to a photo in Gustav Manz's papers at Winterthur (see them side by side, below). Designed as a modern Edwardian bowknot with Cubist/Aztec lines, Lot 303 sported 220 round and 20 baguette (1.54 and 2.24 carat) diamonds in a platinum mounting. An alternate view illustrated the combination brooch magically popped out of its frame and separated into a matching pair of dress clips. 

The undated brooch photo found in Manz's business archive shown with image of Lot 303 in the circa 1932 Kirkpatrick sales catalog

The catalog did not specify the maker, but Manz's business ledgers indicate he made unique mountings in diverse motifs for T. Kirkpatrick & Co. (founded in the mid-1800s by John Kirkpatrick's Scottish-immigrant father, Thomas). Perhaps the jeweler's daughter Doris, who worked as his sales rep, retained the glossy photo as reference for future buyers. Now, if we could just figure out who went home with that zinger of a pin. (Talk to us, Harry Winston…) 

Credits: Scott and Zelda, wire photo of Winston gems, and March 1932 Vogue cover via web. All other images © Gustav Manz LLC

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THE JEWELER'S DAUGHTER

Born in 1903 on the Fourth of July, Doris Rosalie Manz was the younger of Gustav Manz's two daughters with his first wife Martha Bachem. In a circa 1920s studio photo (detail above), Doris wears a Chinese style dress, and a ring stack that includes one of her father's designs for a bezel-set cabochon jade, as well as a link bracelet with tassels wound around her wrist. By her late teens she'd not only become fashion-conscious but was acting as her father's sales agent, picking up knowledge of gems for mounting from people she called on in the trade, such as young Harry Winston, Witherbee Black of Black, Starr & Frost, and George Frederick Kunz of Tiffany & Co.

Stylish, gregarious, and ambitious, Doris inevitably came onto the radar of Neysa McMein, the illustrator responsible for McCall's magazine's American Beauty series and a friend of sculptor Sally James Farnham, who was a personal acquaintance and customer of Doris's father. The resulting cover portrait—showing Doris with a wavy bob, representing the "The Scandinavian American Girl"—appeared on the magazine's November 1924 issue. (Surely an issue worth splurging a Liberty head dime on!) 

Decades after Manz's business archive was donated to Winterthur Museum, one of Doris's business cards was discovered pasted inside her personal copy of George F. Kunz's Rings for the Finger. The author's inscription on the flyleaf reads:

For 

Miss Doris Manz, 

  In appreciation of a 

friend of her father 

  the author

  George Frederick Kunz

  27 August 1920

  New York 

Beside his signature, Kunz sketched a hieroglyph or rune engraved upon a stone. We'd give anything to know whether Tiffany's swashbuckling gemologist was merely showing off his calligraphy or offering a secret handshake to a young woman seeking to rise and prosper in the field her immigrant father (as well as her maternal grandparents, diamond ring manufacturers in Newark) had chosen.

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Copyright © 2014 | All Rights Reserved 

 GUSTAV MANZ LLC