Word: collector
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Maxim Karolik, 69, the opera tenor from Petrograd who emigrated to the U.S., married a proper Bostonian millionairess and became the most conspicuous collector of 19th century American art, divides most of his time these days between his late wife's summer mansion in Newport and the Ritz in Boston. At the Ritz he usually lunches alone, but every few bites he springs across the room to greet in heavily accented English some acquaintance at another table. In Newport his batonlike index finger waves to the accompaniment of an avalanche of talk, which is usually about Maxim Karolik...
...think I'm going to leave the money to a charity or to the income tax collector, do you?'' stormed one Frenchman to a Figaro columnist. "I'm going to treat myself to a voyage to Bali, where they still have a taste for grand funerals...
...sticky, squint-eyed world of the stamp collector was rocked to its very perforations last week. It was a flurry over a flaw, and as every one of the U.S.'s more than 13 million stamp collectors knows, a flaw is worth far more than perfection. Rarity is, of course, the touchstone by which all stamps are valued; but more often than not, a rare stamp is different from millions of its counterparts only because it has some technical disfigurement. To the tweezer-and-magnifying-glass set, discovery of such minor imperfections as missing watermarks or too-much-violet...
Until he could find out more about their value, Sherman decided to keep quiet about his stamps. Then, last week, he saw a small newspaper item about Gerald Clark, a collector in Ohio who had bought a sheet of the faulty Hammarskjolds, had mailed 31 of them off on letters before a friend pointed out the oddity. Clark checked with local post offices for other flawed stamps, found none, and optimistically figured that his remaining 19 stamps were worth $200,000. On that basis, Sherman figured that his intact sheet of 50 must be valued at more than...
...London's Sunday Times recently commissioned essays on them from a septet of England's wiliest, wittiest penmen. Nontheologians all, the Sunday Times sin samplers range from longtime agnostic and Critic Cyril Connolly, whose report on covetousness is a jaunty little tale of how a greedy antique collector comes to a Bad End, to Roman Catholic Poetess Dame Edith Sitwell, who rather admired the sin assigned to her. "Pride may be my own besetting sin," she wrote, "but it is also my besetting virtue. Certainly my life has been spent in saying 'Ha ha among the trumpets...