Commanding the Cosmos

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For an enlightenment monarch, to own a pair of globes was to lay claim to the cosmos. And, in the 17th century, no one made more impressive cardboard-and-plaster surrogates for the heavens and earth than the Dutch cartographer Willem Janszoon Blaeu, whose paired spheres, 26 inches in diameter, were the world’s largest and most accurate.

“They were sometimes literally referred to as ‘king size,’ ” says the Christie’s Amsterdam specialist Koen Samson, “because almost all known globes of this size were commissioned by royals for their libraries.” Nor have Blaeu’s globes lost their prestige in the age of Google Earth. Last April, a set from the princely house of Liechtenstein sold for €794,000($1.2 million) at Christie’s Amsterdam.

Although few globes command even a tenth that price—and many fine Victorian sets are priced under $10,000—their appeal as decorative objects of aristocratic lineage ensures perennial demand in auctions and showrooms. “Most globes sell to people with antique furniture,” notes George Glazer, a New York dealer who specializes in antiquarian globes. “Buyers tend not to be systematic, as they are with atlases. They purchase a pair, and they’re finished.”

Globes are a status symbol—and not just among cigar-chomping lawyers and financiers. The fashion moguls Andy Spade and Diego Della Valle are aficionados; so too is Martha Stewart.

The most coveted examples are pairings of land and sky on the epic scale established by Blaeu and later produced in quantity by such English makers as William Bardin, John Cary and John Newton, who supplanted the Dutch craftsmen in the 18th century.

How a library globe is valued is largely determined by its size, which can be as small as 6 and as large as 36 inches, and its maker. “Certain names are more magical than others,” says the Bonhams London expert Jon Baddeley, “for instance, John Senex, James Ferguson and George Adams, who also made [other] scientific instruments for George III. People will pay more for their globes, because of their age and the quality of the engraving, hand coloring and casework.”

These considerations are more significant than cartographic eccentricities like the early representation of California as an island. “Today we view antique globes primarily as furniture, not as scientific instruments,” says Henry Neville, the director of the New York gallery of the antiques firm Mallett. “That’s why we put so much value on the stand—its elegance, proportions, the good color and polish of its frame.” Glazer adds that the “more elaborate stands were made for more exclusive clients” and that present-day buyers can generally see the difference. This was demonstrated by a pair of globes—27 inches in diameter— from the fabled antiques collection of Lily and Edmond Safra, which sold at Sotheby’s New York on November 3, 2005, for $632,000, more than three times the estimate.

Among the most distinctive examples to come to market in recent years, they were produced in the early 19th century by Dudley Adams from 18th-century engravings by John Senex and featured particularly luxurious materials. “Stands for globes are usually in mahogany or other woods; rarely are they japanned and gilded as these were,” says the Sotheby’s London specialist Simon Redburn, who also notes that the stands were extraordinarily tall and graceful. An illustrious provenance further enhanced their allure. They had belonged to the family of Lord George Kenyon, the namesake of Kenyon College, in Ohio. The set was probably specially commissioned by Lord Kenyon for his library at Gredington Hall, where, for generations, the pair appears to have been well cared for and seldom moved.

It’s rare to find globes in such pristine condition. Made by layering printed cardboard segments, known as gores, over a hollow plaster sphere, they are extremely delicate and susceptible to cracking and breakage. Because they’re touched so frequently, “you often come across spots where a land mass is missing,” notes Robert Israel, co-president of New York’s Kentshire Galleries. Repairing antique globes is exceedingly difficult, done by only a few experts with long waiting lists and high prices. Worn-away patches must be repainted by hand. Cracks cannot be fixed without removing all the gores and reconstructing the entire plaster sphere.