Interiors Editor and freelance writer, Harjit Gammon salivates over the over-scaled pieces in the modestly proportioned turn of the century (1901) workman’s cottage of local antiques dealer Matthew Cox. A very happy instance of taking your work home with you

I stumbled across the Lighthouse around four years ago, walking my dog. Situated in a quiet backwater on the edge of town, in a street with a pleasingly lyrical name, and views across allotments, it became a beacon to which I was irresistibly drawn. I’m ashamed to say I peered in, whenever I was passing to ogle the mirror, clam shell and shell-adorned lampshades on stone bases, and to sate my curiosity about the just visible kitchen and the source of the light streaming in at the back. Several years on and a little digging revealed the owner. Then finally a few months later it all came together, I saw Matthew loading his van. Seizing the opportunity I approached him.

The Lighthouse, so called, by the couple who lived there before Matthew, and who serially christened their properties, caught Matthew’s eye as he searched for somewhere to rent. Attracted by the name (he has a passion for the sea) and the in-blossom wisteria, the would be renter was, within days, the prospective purchaser of The Lighthouse, which fortuitously happened to be on the market.

The interior of this small unassuming house is a study in ‘unpolished’ refinement. To the untrained eye the contents might appear in need of a lick of fresh paint. But for appreciators of patina, like Cox, it is the remaining fragments of aged paint, faded to deliciously soft colour, and the fact that the items he cherishes cannot be reproduced, that is their unique appeal. Over-scaled mirrors and individual lighting are his stock in trade, both at home and at work.

Armed with a degree in the History of Art & Design, and a grounding gained from growing up in an antiques family, (his father, Robin, is also a dealer, while his grandmother, Olive Cox, was a well known antique jeweller in Stamford, with premises on the Town Bridge), Cox embarked on his own venture, as a shopkeeper in the Lillie Road in London. Returning to his “lovely home town”, thanks to the advent of digital cameras, to pursue his thriving business in a location of his choice. “I feel quite lucky to have been born here,” he reveals. “I love walking through St George’s Square early on a Sunday morning. The stone looks fabulous with the sun shining on it.”

In his own personal space Cox favours Classicism, injected with a liberal dose of industrial influences. The look is unashamedly bold and timeless. The decorative pieces lend the whole a sense of probity and gravitas. This is not a house of ephemera.

In the seven years Cox has lived at The Lighthouse, he has made extensive repairs and changes to the fabric of the building, much of them himself. He recounts the decision to remove the ground floor bathroom to a bedroom on the first floor, thereby reducing the house to two bedrooms but making it more suitable for contemporary living. The space freed by re-organisation was used to create a dining area off the kitchen, lit by a glazed sloping roof. The roof, installed by Cox, had to be taken down twice to achieve the desired self-cleaning, algae free finish to the glass.

The courtyard was also reclaimed by curtailing the kitchen, which had been extended by the previous owners to take in all of the outside space. The result is an ingenious manipulation of space. Cox is now able to wallow in the claw foot tub on the first floor, or to shower in the reclaimed, gym floor, wood clad shower. A huge and rather stunning convex mirror presides over the whole, casting not entirely flattering reflections of the bather, I’m told.

The dining space, adorned with a sturdy table and Cox’s prized 1930s crossed back Tolix chairs, now opens directly onto the garden, where a fountain bubbles gently. Though not overly sunny, it does allow soft summer breezes to reach diners. Creating says Cox, “an almost continental feel on summer evenings.”

In the adjoining kitchen a large glazed cupboard holds the bulk of Cox’s provisions, while a slab of Carrera marble reclaimed from a factory is now the work surface and sink surround.

In the sitting room, alcove cupboards and shelves have been added for storage, and the stable front door replaced by a more attractive but now defunct one. Cox enters the house by the garden gate. The room is also home to his favourite piece of furniture, an Arras chair, bought from a dealer who’d fallen on hard times. “I do like nice wrought iron work and, I’m drawn to big proportions and Georgian pieces,” he muses.

His latest project has been to put his stamp on the spare room. “I wanted to make it a bit more masculine, to make it more butch and dark, because mostly the people who’ll stay in it are my male friends.” And naturally he had the perfect piece of furniture - a leather Club chair. Lucky guests.  
www.matthewcoxantiques.co.uk