I have been lucky enough to work with four of the six editors-in-chief of ANTIQUES in its 102-year history. Beyond their obvious devotion to the decorative arts, they all shared one important quality: a sense of humor—crucial to dealing with scholars, curators, writers, antiques dealers . . .Greg’s was tinged with a sharp wit and an occasional snarky sarcasm that, combined with his wealth of knowledge, could be intimidating—until you came to understand that behind it was a soft heart, a desire for excellence, and a wish to bring out the best in his team, particularly to nurture young people, as is attested to in several of the remembrances below.
After years of not-always-benevolent corporate management, Greg (with publisher Don Sparacin) shepherded the magazine into productive private ownership, through the Covid-19 pandemic, and securely into the digital age by promoting our Curious Objects podcast. His eye for design was always evident in the covers he chose; his pleasure in the written word, in his own writing as well as in sharpening that of others, is clear in every story published under his direction. The staff is now spread from Maine to Mexico. We all knew he had some health issues, but his consistently positive attitude led us to believe he would be fine in the end. His unexpected death has left us in shock and sorrow, but as one in honoring his memory.
I started working with Greg when he wrote for ANTIQUES, where I was the editorial manager, and then helped him launch MODERN in 2009. There were a lot of late nights and some tears, but it was also one of the best experiences I’ve ever had. He was an excellent writer and a great editor, giving me the confidence to continue in this field. The decorative arts and design world has lost a great advocate, scholar, mentor, and friend.
–Danielle Devine, editor of Maine Home and Design, former editorial manager of The Magazine ANTIQUES and deputy editor of MODERN Magazine.
Greg took a chance on me, a museum professional and design history graduate student, and a relative newcomer to the editorial world. I always felt he recognized my deep love for design and shared it himself. He was the most constructive critic I had while working on my master’s degree at Oxford. I watched my writing style evolve as he edited—an irreplaceable gift.
The first time I met Greg in person was in the crowded lobby of the Winter Show (rescheduled that year, and taking place in spring) opening night party in 2022. I was a girl from Maine on my first editorial assignment in Manhattan, in a crowd of honed media professionals and art collectors. Greg immediately greeted me and introduced me to many art dealers who would become friends and mentors. He was deeply invested in my growth as an art writer, but also as a young person in the art world, in general. He lambasted my resistance to using the subway, but he also welcomed me into his New York circle, introducing me to his favorite restaurants and museums.
My favorite memories are of touring art and antiques fairs with Greg as guide. He showed my boyfriend and me around the Winter Show, spending ample time highlighting the objects we were interested in. At one show, he found out that my mom was interested in pewter and made her a list of antiques dealers specializing in it. He was as snarky as he was kind, and I loved that he had those two sides to him. He never let it go that I carried an Oxford University tote bag: “Just flash that if anyone criticizes your fact-checking.” His art-world savvy and unmistakable editorial tone made ANTIQUES what it is today. It will not be the same without him.
–Sarah Bilotta, digital manager and editorial research associate
Greg was a kind, funny, and brilliant man, and an outstanding editor and writer. He was open-minded, always making careful editorial decisions. He loved fine and decorative arts, and he really loved The MagazineANTIQUES. Nothing displayed his dedication more than when, during the production of what would be his final issue, he managed to write, edit, and in general run the show, all while being confined to a hospital bed. I will miss Greg for a lot of reasons, but especially for his humor. I’m grateful I was able to know him and work with him for so many years.
–Martin Minerva, art director
During my first Winter Show as ANTIQUES’ managing editor, Arthur Liverant was selling a 100-plus-year-old piggy bank that I kept coming back to. Thrilled to learn that the pig would be my first antique purchase, Greg made sure Arthur held it so that I could run back to buy it. The pig ended up being the subject of one of my first papers at the Bard Graduate Center. When I applied to BGC while working at ANTIQUES, I was able to do so thanks not only to Greg’s rave recommendation, but his full support as I maneuvered the difficulties of attending graduate school while holding down a full-time job. He was a superlative editor and writer, as well as a quiet cheerleader for his small team. His dry wit, sarcasm, and continuous encouragement will be sorely missed.
–Katherine Lanza LoPalo, Historic Artists’ Homes and Studios, former managing editor, The Magazine ANTIQUES
I will remember Greg, first of all, as a lover of words, often of the unusual sort (especially French) but never at the expense of the ordinary. It was clear that Greg looked at writing like a craft, an attitude that put him in sympathy with the many artisans profiled in ANTIQUES while he was editor. Cutting and rearranging, he rarely failed to improve what crossed his desk—not always a great way to make friends out of writers, but, as a way of gaining their respect, unbeatable. His own articles, written en masse and on-deadline (and usually not signed), were never less than comme il faut. What’s more, it was common to find in them passages where reason, economy, rhythm, and word choice combined to become more than the sum of their parts—moments of mastery that are the joy and privilege of the craftsman whose tools warm to his touch. Happily, all of Greg’s work remains visible, in our pages. They make an enviable monument.
–Sammy Dalati, senior editor
Despite only knowing him for a little over a year, I will always remember Greg. He was a truly fascinating person with what seemed like never-ending knowledge of art and antiques. I will always admire his ability to craft articles that were both informative and infused with personality. Although he was never formally an educator, his guidance and editing were often learning opportunities for me. There are questions, such as “What would Greg change?” or “How would he write this?” that I will always carry when I’m writing. I am so grateful to have worked with him; he will be missed.
–Sierra Holt, digital media and editorial associate
I will keep this on the light side as I recount the long journey through magazine land that Greg and I shared. I’m sure he would approve. Greg first came to my attention around 1999 or thereabouts when he submitted an article on tall-case clocks to House and Garden, where I was executive editor. Although it was not the sort of subject a shelter magazine in pursuit of designer trends and trendsetters warmed to, I found the reporting and the delivery engaging and persuasive. We bought it, and Greg eventually joined the staff, where he wrote a lively column on a potentially dull subject, auctions.
I’ll come back to House and Garden in a moment, but first the rest of the journey. When I became editor of ANTIQUES in 2008 I asked Greg to join Martin Filler in covering mid-century modern design, something he did so well that we eventually created MODERN magazine in 2009, Greg Cerio editor. Turbulent years those, but the issues were solid. When I decided to leave ANTIQUES in 2016, I had only one candidate for my job . . . you know the rest.
I will finish with a favorite anecdote from an editorial meeting at House and Garden. One of the design editors had been to England, where she’d fallen for a country house whose decor had a subtle but persistent motif of owls, something she described for us at numbing length until she finished by remarking that we should publish said owlish interior as there was nothing like it this side of the Atlantic, to which my friend observed, “Hey, we have Hooters!” I will miss his brand of fun.
–Elizabeth Pochoda, editor-at-large and former editor-in-chief
