BROOKLYN, N.Y. — On March 16, Gregory Cerio, editor-in-chief and co-owner of The Magazine ANTIQUES, died after a short battle with cancer at the age of 63. He was born in Syracuse, N.Y., on August 5, 1960, the eldest child and only son of Barbara and Frank Cerio. His mother was an editor for Metropolitan Home magazine, his father worked in real estate.
The family soon moved to Annapolis, Md., and Gregory attended St Mary’s for his entire primary school (K-12) education. Upon graduating from St Mary’s in 1978, he attended Washington College in Chestertown, Md., for two years. A year abroad followed, at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland. In 1982, he got his college degree, a Bachelor of Arts in English Language and Literature/Letters, from Fordham University in the Bronx, N.Y.
Gregory married Tambra “Tammy” Dillon in 1989, on Gibson Island, Md.; the couple divorced amicably in 1992 and had no children.
Gregory stayed in New York City, starting his professional career working for Newsweek in the mid-1980s. Beginning in an entry-level position, he responded to letters to the editor and from readers. Dillon remembers he said the experience “was formative, teaching him to say the most with the least, and being courteous and respectful of differing views.” While still at Newsweek, he went on to report hard news, everything from politics and national and international affairs to serial murders.
A stint at People magazine from 1995 to 1996 was followed by time in Barcelona, where he learned Spanish and worked on a novel he never finished. That would be joined over time by unpublished screenplays, too, that combined mystery, drama and comedy.
After returning from Spain, Greg became a senior features editor at House & Garden magazine from 1998 to 2007. He followed that with three years, from 2009 to 2012, as the editor-in-chief and co-founder of MODERN Magazine.
Before becoming the editor-in-chief and co-owner of The Magazine ANTIQUES in 2016, he spent his time freelancing as a writer and editor.
“He’d always been a writer, always was writing,” shared Gregory’s sister Kate. “That is where the editing began, and he followed that passion. He loved the energy of New York City, the blending of people in the streets and that unity. I live in Los Angeles, which can be very superficial; Greg felt like New York was more authentic, as were the people in it. Because it’s a walking city, it’s more accessible; you’re constantly surrounded by other people and feeling like you’re part of a community. He liked that, and the access to the arts, which he was always passionate about.”
She continued. “He was very funny and very smart. I was always sort of intimidated by his intellect. He used to read the encyclopedia for fun as a kid, he’d always been curious and smart; I always thought it was quite amazing.”
Kate described a brother who, though blind in one eye after a childhood accident, loved to play football, in which he held the position of kicker. When he visited her in Los Angeles, he not only liked to go to the museums but Santa Anita Park racetrack in Arcadia, Calif., where she says he was “really great at handicapping the ponies.”
Golf was another of Greg’s passions. “He really enjoyed his good friends and going out,” recalled Tammy. “A smoky pub in Southern Ireland would be his cup of tea.”
Greg’s interests in art and antiques were eclectic, ranging from Eighteenth Century and midcentury decorative art to contemporary art, including works by Cindy Sherman.
During Greg’s tenure at the helm of The Magazine ANTIQUES, the publication celebrated 100 years of publications, launched its first podcast, Curious Objects, and, in 2022, received the Antiques Dealers’ Association of America’s (ADA) Award of Merit.
Greg is survived by his father, Frank Cerio (Del Ray Beach, Fla.), mother and step-father, Barbara V. and Chip Bohl (Hudson, N.Y.), sisters, Camille Cerio (Los Angeles) and Katrina “Kate” Butler; nephew, Thomas Butler (Los Angeles); niece, Olivia Cerio; ex-wife, Tammy Dillon; and close colleagues at The Magazine ANTIQUES. He was predeceased by his sister, Megan Cerio.
The date for a memorial service or celebration of life will be announced.
In lieu of donations, his family thinks Greg would want people to subscribe to or support The Magazine ANTIQUES.
The Cerio siblings. Clockwise from upper left: Camille, Greg, Kate and Megan, circa 1967-68. Photo courtesy Kate Butler.
Gregory Cerio (1960-2024) In Memoriam
For all of us who so admired Greg,
perhaps there is no better way to remember him
than with his picture that appeared with the “Editor’s Letter”
in each new issue of ANTIQUES.
There he is, leaning on the seat rail of a period chair.
Focused, tactile, impish and curious,
Greg is on a mission to discover the object’s secrets and retell its story.
Each “Letter” then goes on to reveal, subtly,
so much about this unassuming, extraordinary editor–
his precision of language and mastery of words;
his keen ability to observe and communicate;
his passion for craftsmanship, scholarship, connoisseurship;
and his respect for curators, dealers, collectors.
With each new issue of ANTIQUES,
much like an artist staring at a blank white canvas,
Greg faced the challenge of creating a work unto itself,
yet one that would be worthy of the 100-plus-year-old legendary publication that ANTIQUES continues to be today.
No one could do it better.
Rick Sharp
Chairman, Board of Advisors
The Magazine ANTIQUES
As we mourn Greg’s death, I celebrate all that he accomplished in his long publishing career — which paralleled my own career in interior decoration — stretching back to the venerable House & Garden and, most recently, with The Magazine ANTIQUES
I can say with alacrity that he was a paramount old school editor in the best of ways: informed about his subjects, clear about editorial focus and of course brilliant with words.
Whether discussing with him elements of historic design or being immersed in planning special issues, our interchanges richly demonstrated his journalistic prowess. Sadly, I wish I had done more with Greg. However, I rejoice, as we all must, for what he achieved in time that was all too brief.
Thomas Jayne
Greg Cerio holding a flame-stitch needlework waistcoat that had been made by Alice Winchester for Wendell Garrett, both past editors of The Magazine ANTIQUES. He presented the waistcoat during the Antiques Dealers’ Association of America’s Award of Merit dinner on November 12, 2022, to Winterthur professor emeritus Brock Jobe for the museum’s collection. Publisher Don Sparacin and editor-at-large Betsy Pochoda look on. Laura Beach photo.
Greg was fabulous! He was so keen to engage another generation — he met my 16-year-old daughter at Americana Week in January 2020; in November 2020, he emailed me to ask if he could ask her to write a plucky something or other for the March/April 2021 issue of The Magazine ANTIQUES about what young people think about museums and art fairs. It was an amazing opportunity and he helped her turn it into something she is still proud of!
Alexandra Kirtley
Greg was the kind of editor every writer likes to have — rigorous, creative, knowledgeable, respectful and quick to respond. The cryptic emails I received from him, with suggestions on how to improve my writing, or questioning something I had said, were always on time and on target. He was relentless in finding the right visuals to go with any article, sometimes rejecting stories that he thought would not have enough visual punch to appeal to his readers. His comments weren’t always what I wanted to hear, but he was almost always right. He pushed the boundaries for ANTIQUES, seeking out new subjects for new audiences, while still satisfying the wishes of the magazine’s more traditional readers. In a fast-changing field, he welcomed new ideas, but insisted on maintaining the high standards of scholarship for which ANTIQUES has always been known. Those of us who were lucky enough to have worked with him during his all too brief time as editor, learned much from him. We admired his steady hand, appreciated his solid guidance and flourished from his generosity of spirit. He will be sorely missed.
Robert McCracken Peck
It’s intimidating to offer a written tribute to a figure like Greg Cerio, especially without him to edit it. He was part of the great old-school tradition of overworked journalists and editors who made New York a media capital.
Shortly after we first met, he granted me the honor of a mention in his Editor’s Letter, as an example of the rising generation of antiques-lovers and history buffs who gave him hope amid a sad environment of struggling regional museums and the passing on of an entire generation of connoisseurs. He knew what it was to mourn a world you were a part of. Now he’s become another revered, departed name for his years leading The Magazine ANTIQUES through the choppy waters of an environment that can be quite hostile to antiques.
My last encounter with Greg was at Molly’s on Third Avenue just last autumn. He suggested it for our lunch meeting because of their famous shepherd’s pie. I’d never even heard of the place but with its bowed ceiling and wooden booths worn smooth, it was about as “antique” a restaurant as one can still find in Manhattan. Our conversation quickly spun out well beyond the bounds of the magazine and our reason for meeting, and we spent hours discussing anything and everything. After agreeing to take a chance on me as a contributor, he instructed me to “respect the title” in his low, ponderous voice. How could I do anything less?
Behind the glamour of New York’s art world and magazines is the unglamorous dedication and tenacity of the people who make it possible. Greg observed the generational turnover happening in an already-threatened business community of antiques specialists, and his example reminds me of my own obligation to step up and champion the work of the preservationists, dealers, collectors, and scholars who keep this world alive. Because the alternative is losing the irreplaceable.
Lansing Moore Jr, New York City
Greg and I bonded as brother Brooklynites. Like me, he had a foot in traditional antiques, but also a real interest in the exotic, absurd and the esoteric. He was a real advocate not only for traditional Americana, but also for the untraditional, anonymous and unsung. We worked recently together on a collector’s spread for the magazine and he always had a way of inserting dry, acerbic humor in any conversation.
Steven S. Powers
Greg Cerio was a dear friend even before he took on the helm of The Magazine ANTIQUES. We met often, either with his parents, who are neighbors and great friends, or at The Edgewood Club, which, despite being the oldest tennis club in America started by the Livingston family in 1884, straddles the past and present in a forward thinking and modern way. When he decided that becoming the editor-in-chief of the magazine was going to be his next step forward, we had several conversations about just this construct: how can we honor the past and still contribute to the forward momentum of a subject so dear to our hearts. The Magazine ANTIQUES became one such project for Greg, and one that due to the increasing financial constraints in publishing these days, very much occupied 99.9 percent of his time and energy. His thought process begs the proverbial question in magazine publishing today, especially with a magazine as august and revered as this particular one, which Greg accompanied through its 100th birthday: how to stay relevant and even boundary-breaking while not insulting the historic fabric in place. This, in America, is being met with varying degrees of success these days.
But Greg did this with an unusual confidence. He didn’t rock the boat, but then again, he kind of did at times, much to my and his readers’ amusement. He hired a wonderful new wave of young people to write and contribute to the journal, but he also informed me, more than a few times, how pleased he was that there were editors on board that had been at the magazine for decades (!), who would share their style take on my writing, which differed from the Chicago Style that I was so familiar with. He found this balance perfectly. I will miss Greg, as the extremely kind and curious man that he was, but I will also miss receiving each month the manifestation of his thought process in being of service to collectors young and old.
Pieter Estersohn
The first time I had the pleasure to work with Greg was back in 2006, when he was an editor at House & Garden. I had been asked to compose some copy to accompany a truly eccentric fashion layout featuring two women in evening gowns against eerie backdrops of ruined architecture, tangled cobwebs, stuffed peacocks, assorted crustacea and a human skull or two. So I wrote a Gothick fantasy titled “After Cinderella.” Greg was my editor, and we had a bit of fun fine-tuning my tale. Unfortunately, the layout ultimately proved too macabre to publish, and my story rests in my computer files. But thereafter I always kept an eye peeled for Greg’s occasional articles in The Magazine ANTIQUES, often on aspects of early Twentieth Century Modernism.
So, when Betsy Pochoda wrote me that she had chosen Greg to succeed her at the helm of TMA, I was delighted. He tested that delight about a year later. My wife and I were packing for a London trip when Greg rang: A writer hadn’t come through and he needed an article to fill the space. Aware of two impending museum shows on the Pre-Raphaelites — one of my specialties — he proposed that subject…adding that he needed it on Monday! Though I explained my predicament, Greg’s quiet encouragement (and desperation) finally outweighed my misgivings. That weekend was a knuckle-whitener, but Greg’s obvious belief that I could pull it off made it possible for me to file the piece under the wire.
My great regret is that Greg often seemed so laden with responsibilities — not the least of which was writing some of the most beautiful and even touching editorials — that I tended to keep our communication sporadic. Our last phone conversation, which took place as he was checking out of the hospital at the end of February, he declared that it was high time we had lunch. To my great sorrow, that will never happen.
Barrymore Laurence Scherer
“Where are the young people?” is an oft heard lament in the field of antiques. Greg answered that with a simple response, “Here.” At the magazine, he prioritized young voices among the writers and on his editorial team. People were often surprised to learn that a 30-something year old would be doing the fact-checking on their work, or that we started our regular column while still in our 20s. Greg seemed to like the perspective young people could bring to the field, an approach not yet made serious by time and challenge, and opened doors for us that otherwise would have likely stayed closed for years, if not decades. He cared deeply about the legacy of the field, and the longevity of the stories it holds. Objects amazed him, but the hands that made them even more so. Each issue of the magazine was itself treated as a precious object, shaped to present a perspective, to spotlight a voice, to uphold an ideal, or, his favorite, to challenge a long-held assumption. We will miss him dearly as an editor, mentor and friend.
Pippa Biddle & Benjamin Davidson, Germantown, N.Y.
I was profoundly saddened to learn of the passing of my friend Greg Cerio, the esteemed owner and editor of The Magazine ANTIQUES.
Our friendship blossomed following Greg’s commissioning me to paint a work to commemorate the centenary of The Magazine ANTIQUES in January 2022. He reached out to me in the autumn of 2021 with the proposition of creating the cover for the 100th-year issue, and through numerous telephone conversations, email exchanges, and gatherings in New York City to discuss this painting, we became acquainted.
The Magazine ANTIQUES had a booth at the Winter Show of 2022, which, due to Covid-19, was held in the spring of that year. I was honored to display the painting there, in The Magazine ANTIQUES’ booth, and to sign prints. Greg was a soft spoken man with a kind demeanor.
Our many discussions revealed his deep affection for antiques, history and architecture, as well as his cherished memories and visits to New Orleans. In the winter of 2022, he facilitated a visit for me and a friend to a privately owned historic home in the Hudson Valley region of New York, even arranging for the project’s architect to give us a tour.
Greg’s graciousness, kindness and unwavering dedication to the world of antiques left an indelible mark on me. His absence will be keenly felt by his friends, family and the entire antiques community.
Andrew Hopkins
Journalism is a critically endangered institution, and the grizzled New York journalist is all but extinct in our world. Greg, however, held out. For as long as he lived, there remained a standard-bearer for journalistic integrity; deeply considered storytelling; and fresh, and indeed, eccentric voices. These, not engagement metrics, were his currency. That the world of letters had such a defender in Greg would have been enough, but then we had him, too, in the world of antiques and design, and never more so than during his tenure at The Magazine ANTIQUES. In his wisdom, Greg understood that the magazine’s audience — and the kernel of future appreciation for material culture — would be nurtured best by richly narrated stories; lively perspectives; and a focus, always, on depth. For this we are immeasurably lucky. So, too, are future readers.
Michael Diaz-Griffith
Greg was a singular presence in antiques. Kind, curious and generous with his time, he took an interest in my work when I was still a young antique dealer new to shows. When speaking with Greg about the trade, I was always struck by how his insights cut through the arbitrary and superficial to the substance of the matter. As an editor and journalist, he sought to bring in new voices, and as a person, he was genuinely interested in hearing them. I’m honored to have known Greg. His shoes at the magazine won’t be easy to fill.
Adam Irish
For me, Gregory Cerio will always stand out for his exemplary honor, both intellectually and professionally. That quality, although indisputably admirable, does not always entail a strong sense of human warmth. And yet, although I cannot claim to have been one of Greg’s closest friends, I always saw, behind his somewhat curmudgeonly public persona, a profoundly human quality that drew me to him and that makes so much greater the present sense of his loss.
James Gardner
