Lisa Hoffman and Charles Atkins

Published January 12, 2006

There’s something I don’t want to write about, but here goes. While I’m often on Lisa’s case about the amount of clutter she accumulates, I’ve got some issues of my own. I collect stuff...lots of it.

"Ah ha!" Lisa says, as I read my confession. "I thought as much! It’s a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black. Let he who sits in the glass house undress in the dark."

"I know," I say, "it’s not getting better. And what’s brought it to a head is my new obsession—vintage chocolate molds."

Enjoying the role reversal, Lisa adjusts her chair and asks, "How did it start? Why chocolate molds? And why haven’t you brought me any chocolate?"

"It started this summer. I was at the flea market with a friend down from the city. Suddenly, she veered toward a booth that was two-deep with customers. Curious as to the excitement, I tagged along. We elbowed through and came upon hundreds of cast-metal chocolate molds from Germany, Belgium and France. The seller explained how he’d been taking yearly trips to Belgium and buying the old metal molds from bakers and chocolatiers, most of whom had switched to plastic. I didn’t think much of them at first, a lot of rabbits—some with guns—Father Christmas, witches, cats, ducks in rain gear…."

"Did you get the cat?" Lisa interjects.

"Yes," I say, not ready to admit that I’ve now got several. "That’s how it started. I bought a few and then I went on eBay to see if I’d gotten a good deal. I had, and so next week I was back looking for the same dealer. He didn’t show, not that week or the week after. When he finally reappeared, I bought more and got his business card. Before long I was heading—with a similarly hooked flea-market friend--to his storage bin in Manhattan. It’s gotten a bit out of control."

"And you have the gall to complain about me."

"I know. I’ve been clearing out shelves for the molds."

"And what was on the shelves?" she asks. "What was there?"

"A previous collection," I admit, as I picture dozens of pieces of drip-glaze pottery now boxed in my cellar. "What is it that drives us to collect stuff?"

"You know," Lisa says, "Years back I did publicity for a book entitled Incredible Collectors, Weird Antiques and Odd Hobbies by Bill Carmichael. He said that the desire to accumulate is not restricted to humans but that even magpies will steal anything that glitters to add to their nests. He also mentioned that the human desire to acquire can be traced back to ancient Egypt and the first antique shops."

"But why, whether its matchboxes, stamps, coins, or you with your cookbooks and cats?" I ask.

Lisa ponders, "I used to have a collection of sugar packets with restaurant logos. I’d always pocket a few on the way out, kind of a sentimental thing. They weren’t valuable, or even rare. Some people collect things that are quite mundane, like string. For the longest time I collected the aluminum tabs from soda cans and gave them to an artist in Manhattan who wove them into clothing—his name was "Pop Top Terp".

"All of which is interesting, but doesn’t explain the phenomenon."

For added insight we call two local experts, the owners of Grass Roots Antiques—Ethel Greenblatt and Ann Beckman.

"Why do you people collect things?" Lisa asks over the speaker phone.

Ethel starts, "You know I’ve been doing this for years and I have no idea," but then adds, "There are the standard reasons: people think older things will increase in value, and that they’re better quality than new. But mostly we collect things that appeal to the heart. I collect figures of dogs because I love dogs."

"That’s a lovely quote," Lisa says. "I collect everything with cats because I love them. How long have you had Grass Roots?"

"This October it was 33 years," Ethel says. "We’ve been here since 1972."

"What are the most popular things people ask for?" Lisa asks.

"With this shop, it’s mostly decorative items, things to enhance their surroundings. People like silver and china and small pieces of furniture. We have a general kind of merchandise; there’s something for everyone."

As Ethel talks, I wonder if that’s not a piece of it, that just like magpies we acquire things to liven our surroundings. But why chocolate molds? I find them lovely, but they’re more utilitarian, things that have been used for decades in a kitchen or bakery. They’re not exactly fine silver or Chippendale.

"Have you acquired your expertise over the years, or do you attend lectures?" Lisa asks.

"Before I went into the business I took courses at Hunter College. But it’s mostly experience and doing research. Every item that comes in we try to find out as much as we can. It’s detective work. You look at a piece and see what’s been done to it, the age, the quality of the workmanship."

"Can you remember any very unusual item you had?"

"We’ve had a lot… just recently we sold a brass blow pipe. It was very long with a poker on one end and it was used to blow onto the fire to make it hotter. Right now we’ve got quite a few unusual things, from a hand-carved prison art miniature coffin and skeleton to an oil painting of a member of the Dixon family, from Mason-Dixon fame."

Ann, who’s been showing porcelain to a customer joins in with a much-different take on collecting, "I spook out a lot of people this way," she admits. "But I believe in reincarnation and I think we’re drawn to things we’ve had in past lives. It’s as though the piece talks to you. People always say, ‘Ann that’s got nothing to do with this business.’ I think it has everything to do with it." She then describes how a person can see two chairs, one for $5000 and one for $50, and they’ll be drawn to the less expensive one, "not because it’s intrinsically more valuable, but that something about it speaks to them. Antiques carry something of the soul of the people who’ve owned them." She speculates that, "people who haven’t lived many lives are drawn to new things. Some people can’t stand to have anything that anyone else has owned—I think these are new souls who’ve not lived many lives. Perhaps I’m just romanticizing why we collect. But for me, the reason why we’re drawn to particular objects is poetic; it speaks to who we are now, and might have been before."

"Do you ever know the background of who owned a piece, like a famous author?" Lisa asks.

"All the time, it’s called provenance. With very fine antiques and paintings you’ll find them mentioned in family logs and inventories. But there’s all the other stuff that doesn’t have any of that. Yet each piece still carries the history and the imprint of all the people who’ve owned it through the centuries."

"Do you ever get a piece in and you think so and so would love that?" Lisa asks.

"Absolutely," Ann says, "and some times we are that someone," and she tells us about her collection of Santos—religious figures that were often personal, and show signs of being well used and loved.

As I ponder Ann’s reincarnation hypothesis of collecting, I arrive at the obvious question. Was I a chocolate maker in a prior life? It’s an interesting notion that could explain both my obsession with molds and my friendship with Lisa. Lisa adores chocolate; was I her supplier in a previous existence?

"It’s the joy of the hunt," Ann says, summing up. "Collectors are Gypsies at heart. We travel from place to place in pursuit of the next thing. It’s a knowing, a feeling, that there’s a hidden treasure just waiting. Like at a flea market, you can look down a row, and if there’s something you’re meant to have, you will be drawn to it. Almost as though you’ve owned it before, and it wants to come home."

For the best book on the topic of chocolate molds, check out The Comprehensive Guide to Chocolate Molds: Objects of Art and Artists' Tools  by Wendy Mullen and published by Schifferbooks.  Click on the following link to view--or purchase--her book on amazon.com.  

Wendy also maintains a website and sells molds through the internet and at antique and collectible shows.  Just click on the link to view her site. http://www.victorianchocolatemolds.com/

I recently asked Wendy to recommend a book on the art of chocolate making and she suggested The Art of Chocolate: Techniques & Recipes for Simply Spectacular Desserts & Confections by Elaine Gonzalez.  Click on the following link to view--or purchase--this book on amazon.com.