Lester Glassner dies at 70; Collector of pop-culture and dime-store merchandise
His collecting began with a Mickey Mouse lamp he bought in the early 1960s, and grew to a massive assortment of vintage movie memorabilia, dime-store merchandise and other pop-culture artifacts.
Glassner's collecting began with a Mickey Mouse lamp he purchased in the 1960s. His collection was featured in the 1981 book "Dime-Store Days." (Brownie Harris)
The one-time picture editor, designer and art librarian for CBS Records had a massive collection of vintage movie memorabilia, dime-store merchandise and other pop-culture artifacts numbering in the hundreds of thousands.
For more than three decades, Glassner's large and diverse collection filled his four-story 19th century brownstone home on Manhattan's Lower East Side.
It began with a Mickey Mouse lamp that he bought for a couple of dollars at a junk shop in Buffalo, N.Y., in the early 1960s.
"He just started building collections of all sorts from his 20s forward, and he never stopped," said his sister, Freda Honig.
Glassner's longtime obsession led to his collaborating with photographer Brownie Harris on "Dime-Store Days," an illustrated book published by Viking Press in 1981 and featuring prime samples from his various collections.
The book included a foreword by a friend of Glassner's, British writer and gay icon Quentin Crisp. The introduction was written by another friend: Anita Loos, author of the 1925 comic novel "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes."
In her introduction, Loos wrote of a young Glassner finding escape during World War II by wandering the aisles of five-and-dime stores that were laden with "treasures so colorful that they turned his whole drab life into a world of fantasy."
Glassner's highly personal book spurred cover stories on him in antique and collectible magazines, as well as a visit to his East Village home by the "Today" show.
So impressively enormous was Glassner's overall collection that a visitor once declared it to be "impossible to imagine beforehand or exaggerate after seeing."
"It was on every floor, and he had showcases everywhere," Honig said. "There are so many collections within collections.
"There are hats. When Anita Loos passed away, she left him her hat collection. There are mechanical toys. There are World War II propaganda posters. There are antique Seven Dwarfs of various types. . . . Oh, and he had a huge collection of antique postcards of all types. And autographed photos of famous people."
That's not to mention chalk, ceramic and porcelain figurines, rare celluloid toys, Halloween masks, clothes, antique sleighs, dolls, 78-revolutions-per-minute records, art glass, movie posters, movie stills, lobby cards and a host of other items.
Glassner's collection of movie stills alone numbers more than 250,000 photos, many of them rare.
"He also had an antique jewelry collection," Honig said. "I don't know how I couldn't start by telling you about that. It is absolutely massive. But he's left that collection to me, which was very sweet of him to do."
Honig said the front room of her brother's home on East 7th Street "was kept darkened when it wasn't being shown to protect it from the elements. And the air conditioning was kept on, so it was climate-controlled the best he could in a house of that age to keep things in pristine condition."
Louis Pappas, a friend and fellow collector who first met Glassner in the 1960s and described him as a "very genteel, very cerebral person," said first-time visitors to Glassner's home were no less than stupefied by what they saw.
"The collection was that enormous," said Pappas, a former East Village resident now living in Brooklyn. "It was almost like a museum, really, the whole place. I'd say it was one of the major collections in the world.
"I cleaned his collection at one time -- the toys -- piece by piece. It took me months."