Little Japanese Treasures

 

QUESTION: While most people go to antique shows looking for items to add to their collections, I go to see what I can discover that I’ve never seen before. And though the larger items dominate the show, I prefer to look in the glass cases of smalls—objects too small to display on the table by themselves. At a recent show, I was looking intensely in one of these display cases and discovered several small sculptures of figures and animals. Some seemed to be made of ivory or bone while others had been carved from various types of exotic hardwoods. The dealer referred to them as “netsuke” and added that they usually hung on the strings of an inro, a small wooden purse worn by men in traditional Japanese dress. What can you tell me about these intriguing items? They weren’t cheap, so I’m guessing that they’re pretty valuable.

ANSWER: Antique Japanese netsuke (pronounced "netski") have been prized by collectors since the late 19th century for their beauty and aesthetic appeal. From the 17th through mid-19th century, Japanese citizens wore the kimono, a simple T-shaped robe wrapped around the body and held in place with an obi sash. In order to carry small items such as tobacco, medicine, and seals, ingeniously made sagemono, meaning  “hanging things,”) hung on cords from the obi sash

Netsuke served as anchors or counterweights for stacked, nested containers, known as inrô and sagemono which held personal seals and medicine. Eventually, craftsmen divided the inro into sections to hold money, perfume, and tobacco. The wearer threaded a single cord through a cord channel on one side of the suspended container, through two holes in the netsuke, then through the other side of the container, and knotted on the underside of the container. A decorative bead, or ojime, slid along the cord between the netsuke and sagemono, allowing the user to open and close the container.

The wearer would slip the netsuke under and dangle it over the obi, allowing the sagemono to hang suspended between waist and hip. In order to access the contents of the sagemono, the wearer slipped the netsuke behind the obi sash, liberating the ensemble. By sliding the ojime toward the netsuke, the contents of the container could easily be accessed.

Originally worn as part of a male kimono ensemble by men of the warrior class, inro and netsuke evolved into a mark of class, with warriors at the top, followed by farmers who tilled the land, artisans who crafted material goods, and merchants at the bottom.

Because merchants were economically better off than many members of the socially superior military class, inro and netsuke also allowed merchants to display their wealth.  Inro and netsuke, often made of expensive, rare materials and bearing the signature and seal of the carver, were an indication of wealth. 

Sculptors most often carved netsuke from wood or ivory, but as their popularity and status increased, they made them of richer materials, such as mother of pearl, porcelain, lacquer, amber, and semi-precious stones. If a collector finds a netsuke made of two materials, it's probably from a later period. Ranging in size from one to three inches, sculptors carved these tiny treasures in a wide variety of forms, including shells, animals, vegetables, and favorite characters from Oriental folklore and religion.

Netsuke carvers preferred boxwood for its fine grain and durability. They also used various types of native Japanese wood—cypress, cherry, black persimmon, yew, camphor, zelkova, and camellia. However, one of the most popular materials for netsuke was elephant tusk ivory. 

These little sculptures came in many forms, such as badgers, known for their mischievous pranks, or carp, the symbol for courage. Some took the shape of a  baku, a mythic, elephant-like creature believed to eat the nightmares of those who sleep on a piece of paper bearing its name.

Netsuke carvers worked with general subjects but in an often lighthearted, humorous way. Originally, they created netsuke of wood to be worn, and eventually discarded after daily use. Carvers also made sure their netsuke had no sharp edges and balanced them so they hung correctly on the man’s sash. A netsuke’s size depended on the weight of the inro and the proportions of the owner.

Carvers used the tusks of walrus or narwhal or the teeth of a sperm whale, as well as woods such as mahogany and ebony, to carve the best netsuke. Most of the best netsuke sculptors at the peak of fancy netsuke lived near where marine ivory was more plentiful. They began using this material because they knew how to carve it. It’s not only the subject of each netsuke, rather than the material used, but the extraordinary workmanship that gives each one its special artistic appeal.

Traditionally, netsuke carvers worked in specific formats. Three-dimensional figures, or katabori, account for the most of them. Carved in the round and often referred to as miniature sculptures, the undersides of which were also completely carved. Rounded forms, named after the round sweet bean cakes they resemble, were also quite popular. Another conventional netsuke shape is the kagami, or mirror, consisting of a round, bowl-shaped base and a lid fashioned of a flat disk of metal. Craftsmen employed a variety of metals, such as brass, bronze, copper, gold, iron, pewter, and silver. Carvers favored two alloys, shakudo, made by combining copper and gold,  and shibuichi, combining copper and silver, for their range of colors and patina.

Carvers drew on varied themes for these accessories—nature, mythical tales, historical figures, masks used in theatrical performances, and gods and demons. Other themes included h erotica, the grotesque, or parodies and satirical depictions of elite culture. 

Some of the best Japanese artists, such as Yamada Hojitsu and Shuzan, carved netsuke. But it’s those who specialized in making them that collectors prefer.

Eventually, netsuke represented the fashions, fancies, and fables of Japanese society. After the reopening of Japan to the West in 1853, Japanese gentlemen soon took to wearing western style suits with pockets, and the need for carrying an inro with its accompanying netsuke quickly disappeared.

To read more articles on antiques, please visit the Antiques Articles section of my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the over 30,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about "Coffee--The Brew of Life" in the 2023 Summer Edition, online now. And to read daily posts about unique objects from the past and their histories, like the #Antiques and More Collection on Facebook.

Dreaming of Spring

 

QUESTION: I’ve always enjoyed gardening. I guess I inherited that gene from my father. Every year, he would wait impatiently for the first of the season seed catalogs to arrive. As a kid, I loved paging through them to see the lavish illustrations of all kinds of flowers and vegetables. As I got older, I began helping my father choose the seeds to plant for the summer growing season. Now as an adult with my own family, I’m carrying on the tradition with my own children and garden in our backyard. I never considered collecting seed catalogs until after my father died, and I helped my mother sort through lots of old things. I came across some of dad’s old seed catalogs and brought them home with me. But honestly, I have no idea which of them is collectible. Can you offer some history of seed catalogs and which ones might be the best to collect?

ANSWER: Seed catalogs are the botanical equivalent of a dream book—a grower’s wish list. The most interesting, quirky, art-filled seed catalogs are from the early 1900s.

The hand-drawn and painted, romanticized illustrations and resplendent plant descriptions made them equal parts information and entertainment while offering gardeners plants for their upcoming summer season.

The first known garden catalog appeared over 400 years ago at the 1612 Frankfurt Fair with the distribution of the bulb catalog, Florilegium Amplissimum et Selectissimum, by Dutch grower Emmanual Sweerts. The catalog contained 560 hand-tinted images of flowering bulbs, giving gardeners a glimpse of possibilities for their own gardens.

Many of the illustrations originated in botanical publications, useful for identifying plants and noting their medicinal uses, but this new publication distributed to fair-goers was a first to present bulbs for sale. Sweerts died in 1612—the same year the catalog first appeared in print—but it was reprinted for many years to come, right into the Tulipmania period in Dutch history.

Long before the soil warms, the first weeds sprout, and good intentions give way to busy summers, these gems tempt gardeners with visions of  ‘candy-sweet’ corn, crunchy cucumbers, and perfectly plump tomatoes.

It seems that gardening enthusiasts have been drooling over seed catalogs for a long time. Prior to his publication, other plant catalogs listed ornamental species growing in the private gardens of the rich and famous.

Wealthy Europeans had a penchant for collecting ornamental and newly discovered plant species from around the world. Printed catalogs with beautiful engravings depicting these rare botanical possessions helped them show off their status.

A few years after that Dutch catalog, René Morin published the first known French plant catalog in Paris.

Seed catalogs not only provide a bright spot in winter for the gardener, but they also offer a colorful glimpse into the past.

Seed catalogs continue to hold a colorful and important pride of place in history, and not just gardening history. These publications offered gardeners an interesting and informative glimpse into the past, so much so that the Smithsonian Institute Libraries contains a collection of about 10,000 seed catalogs dating from 1830 to the present day. The pages of these catalogs reveal not only details about the history of gardening in the U.S., but their text and illustrations also provide a fascinating look at printing, advertising and fashion trends through the years.

The honor of publishing the first American seed catalog goes to 18th century horticulturist David Landreth. The D. Landreth Seed Company, founded in 1784 in Philadelphia, introduced the zinnia, the white potato, various tomatoes, and Bloomsdale spinach to America, largely through its catalogs.

As American pioneers moved westward, ordering seed catalogs became an important way to bring fruits, vegetables and flowers with them to their new homes. When the nation's railway system grew and the mail service improved, the seed and nursery trade expanded as well.

After the Civil War, the mail order seed market became quite competitive, and nurseries used their catalogs to announce novelty items such as "Mammoth," "Giant" or "Perfection" varieties of flowers, fruits and vegetables.

Catalog covers became more elaborate, and catalogs contained more than basic information and began to include more detailed descriptions, testimonials, special offers, contests and awards the nursery’s plants had won at horticultural fairs or exhibitions. For example, Dingee & Conard's 1889 catalog contained a special insert on pink paper that gave a detailed listing of its discounted collection of popular varieties.

Boston's Joseph Breck & Company, established in 1818, published its first seed catalog in 1840. Called "The New England Agricultural Warehouse and Seed Store Catalogue," the 84-page publication included illustrations and horticultural details next to product listings. Today the company is called Breck's Bulbs, and it still mails free catalogs to customers.

Seed catalogs have reflected the times. For example, catalogs from 1945 celebrated the end of the World War II with colorful pictures and the advice to settle down and to decorate your home with flowers. Seed producers gave flower varieties victory-related names. The back cover of the Jackson & Perkins catalog in 1945 featured the 'Purple Heart' viola, for instance. In one patriotic display, the 1945 Burpee Seeds catalog depicted a V-For-Victory- shaped red Swiss chard plant surrounded by bomb-like carrots over a tomato shaped like a globe.

The beauty of seed catalogs comes from their photography and, in earlier examples some cases, their engraving. Even today, companies such as Territorial Seed Company, based in Cottage Grove, Oregon.

One of the most well known seed catalogs belongs to W. Atlee Burpee & Company,  founded in 1876 by Washington Atlee Burpee in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, after starting a mail-order chicken business in 1876. The company expanded to selling garden seeds, farm supplies, tools and hogs after customers began asking for seeds they had grown in their native farms. 

In 1888, Burpee established the family farm, Fordhook Farm in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, as a family farm and the first experimental test field station in the United States. After he traveled to Europe to collect seeds which needed to be adapted to North American climates, Burpee conducted crop field trials.

In 1900, distant cousin Luther Burbank visited the farm inspiring him to create his own experiments. He later created additional research stations, including in California in 1909, to test seeds. By the turn of the century, Burpee's had created one of the largest mail and freight businesses of the time.

By 1915 Burpee was mailing over a million catalogs a year to American gardeners. But that same year, its direction began to change when Atlee’s son, David, inherited the company upon the death of his father. David’s main interest lay in victory gardens, and he became an early promoter of them during World War I. He also prioritized the company’s output in flower seeds and initiated several flower hybridization breeding programs. Burpee geneticists also began to modify the genes of seeds using x-rays and colchicine.

The advertisements began to include full-color advertising to include Burpee's strengths of reliability of seeds using the motto "Burpee's Seeds Grow" and leader in the industry while the catalog was compact, arranged by category, and easy to find the order form.

To read more articles on antiques, please visit the Antiques Articles section of my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the over 30,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about "folk art" in the 2023 Winter Edition, online now. And to read daily posts about unique objects from the past and their histories, like the #Antiques and More Collection on Facebook.

Crazy Fads Come and Go But This One Lingers On

 

QUESTION: I have a crazy quilt that once belonged to my great grandmother. It’s been lovingly cared for by her daughter and then her daughter’s daughter, my mother, who’s now getting up in years. When she downsized to move to a retirement home, she gave the crazy quilt to me. I love the intricate designs, but, otherwise, I don’t know much about it. Can you tell me more and perhaps tell me how I can take care of it? It’s in good condition, but I can see that it’s somewhat delicate.

ANSWER: Your crazy quilt is the result a fad that began in the United States nearly a century and a half ago, roughly from 1875 to 1900. As with many country quilts, it became a way for women to use up their extra scraps of cloth or fabric from worn-out clothes. But crazy quilts were also a form of self-expression, much like samplers were a century before. 

Victorian women created crazy quilts like giant jigsaw puzzles, made of irregular pieces of silk, satin, velvet, or plush fabric sewn onto a solid backing of a lighter material, then decorated with embroidery stitches. Many became sentimental diaries stitched with names and legends while others took on the look of nostalgic stitched scrapbooks filled with memorabilia commemorating events, story book characters, garden flowers, even family pets. Women often made them as gifts to a bride or to someone recovering from a severe illness. Others made them in memory of a loved one who had recently passed.

Scraps for these elaborate quilts often came from ball gowns, opera capes, or the parlor curtains. But women could also buy packages of scraps from the Montgomery Ward or Sears Roebuck catalogs. The Singer Sewing Machine Company used crazy quilts as a symbol on their trade cards. Women's magazines of the day offered directions for making crazy quilts as table covers along with patterns for decorating them. Silk manufacturers promoted the use of their scrap waste in making crazy quilts. Magazine publishers also offered booklets on making crazy quilts as premiums in exchange for subscriptions to their periodicals. 

The word crazy in this case actually means irregular, odd, bizarre, strange, or unusual, and perfectly describes these quilts. Some look like a haphazard collection of odd bits of cloth and memorabilia while others are more like abstract works of silk art in shimmering colors reflecting light.

Since crazy quilts are more often tufted rather than quilted, they should be called "throws." Victorian housewives often threw them over parlor tables and pianos, as well as sofas or beds. They were the perfect complement to the ornately carved overstuffed furniture and bric-a-brac of every sort adorning  table tops, etageres, and mantels in the Victorian parlor.

Some historians believe the Victorian crazy quilt may have originated as a result of the popularity of Japanese prints or screens after the Philadelphia Exposition of 1876. Others wonder if their fractured designs may have been taken from the pattern of an uneven pavement or cracked ice, a popular decorative border used from the late 1870s through the 1880s.

Likewise, women often copied the patterns painted and embroidered on crazy quilts from Japanese ones. Many crazy quilts display a cranes standing in pools of water, owls and peacocks perched on gnarled tree branches, kimono clad figures, butterflies and cherry blossoms, hanging lanterns and spider webs. 

And since not every woman was artistically talented, makers of crazy quilts could purchase pre-stamped patches or would trace designs from magazines. The Ladies Home Journal offered as a premium to readers bringing in 16 new subscribers a “Crazy Patchwork Outfit,” consisting of 12 pre-stamped pieces of silk, one box of stamping powder, twelve skeins of embroidery silk, and a glittering array of two dozen spangles and two yards of tinsel cord.

Women's magazines also offered how-to instructions for the three basic embroidery stitches---the outline, Kensington, and plush. The outline stitch, also known as the stem stitch, formed a thread line as in a drawing. The Kensington stitch enabled crazy quilt makers to fill in their outlines using various colors. And the plush stitch produced areas of cut silk thread like a pile carpet. 

Quilt makers used embroidery stitches not only along the edges of patches to decorate them and at the same time hold the edges under and in place but also to make designs. Those who lacked embroidery skills could purchase pre-embroidered appliques. Some crazy quilt makers further embellished their creations with painted designs on the fabric after they assembled their quilts. Sequins, beads, spangles, metallic braid, and ribbon were also popular forms of embellishment.

Crazy quilts aren’t as durable as regular quilts. They won’t survive daily folding and shouldn’t be used as throws where they’ll be handled a lot. But they can be mounted on a frame or encased in plexiglass and hung on a wall. Both dry cleaning and wet cleaning damages them, so the only safe way of cleaning them is to use a low power vacuum held well away from the fabric which has been covered with some sort of mesh screening—an old window screen will do—to prevent the fabric from being sucked up and damaged.

Unlike regular quilts, women who made crazy quilts usually signed them. Many have been passed down through generations in a family.

Prices for crazy quilts range from $50 for an average small one to as much as $1,000 for a large exceptionally stitched one. Because their prices are relatively low in comparison with fine 19th-century quilts, many most likely remain hidden away in attic trunks waiting to be discovered.

For more information on caring for old quilts, read “Caring for Antique Quilts” in #TheAntiquesAlmanac. 

To read more articles on antiques, please visit the Antiques Articles section of my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the over 30,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about "The Sparkling World of Glass" in the 2021 Winter Edition, online now. And to read daily posts about unique objects from the past and their histories, like the #Antiques and More Collection on Facebook.

From Boredom to Art

QUESTION: I belong to a reenactor group that specializes in Revolutionary War reenactments. Some of the men carry powder horns as part of their equipment. Most of these are plain reproductions. They serve the purpose. At several larger gatherings of reenactment groups, I’ve seen some beautifully engraved horns. What can you tell me about these engraved horns?  Might they be original or are they reproductions?

ANSWER: Powder horn collectors are a very specialized group. The horns they collect are usually engraved but not all of them are valuable. Today, there are a number of very good reproductions and contemporary powder horns being made. They’re so well done that it’s often impossible to tell the authentic ones from the reproductions.

Powder horns once provided a practical, inexpensive way to carry gun powder for use in the early flintlock and percussion firearms. They were America's first art form. Early settlers had to work so hard there was no time to make art.



The French and Indian War was the catalyst for horn art. Soldiers had a lot of time on their hands and were lonesome. So on their horns they drew images of their houses, trees, their gardens, their dogs, their girlfriends and other things that reminded them of home. But the simple powder horn of the early frontier evolved into personal works of art out of necessity. Soldiers, and perhaps groups of hunters, had to have an obvious way of identifying their horns.

Sometimes they used only their initials. If the horn owner was literate, or knew someone who could copy letters, dates, names and places, he had them engraved onto his horn. Eventually, animals, mythical creatures like mermaids or griffons, birds, snakes, various styles of flowers and vines and all sorts of geometrics decorated powder horns. To make their horns more personal, some men engraved rhymes on their horns. Next to his wife and children, a man’s powder horn was often his most cherished possession.

This high level of artistic competence among common soldiers and pioneers shows that many people in the Colonies must have had art training. Children who went to school learned penmanship and calligraphy which helped in engraving their horns as young adults.



Less artistic soldiers could pay professional hornsmiths, who traveled with the troops, set up tents, and took orders, to customize their horns. Better-paid military officers could afford to set the trend around camp for horns with similar designs. Historians believe there was a community of horn carvers who observed and borrowed from each other's work.

The earliest known American engraved horn, inscribed with the name Daniel Tuttle, dates from 1727. But older doesn't translate into more valuable. Seventeenth-century "pilgrim horns" sell moderately because they were plain and lacked artwork. Most of the classic engraved horns are 13 to 17 inches long. But horns may vary from a few inches to over two feet long. Usually, the bigger the horn is, the older it is, because men took longer forays into the forest to hunt in the 18th century.

Early on, settlers hunted for weeks at a time. As they got more settled, they would go hunting in the afternoon, so they didn't need to carry two or three pounds of powder with them. Because of this, they took smaller horns which they would carry in their bags or pockets.

Early settlers often carried two horns. One was a smaller horn which held fine-grain, faster burning gunpowder used only for priming the pan in early flintlock mechanisms. When percussion replaced flintlocks beginning in the 1830s, most men carried only a single horn in the field.



But many hunters and soldiers ceased using powder horns altogether in the 1830s with the advent of brass flasks and leather pouches.

So how can a collector tell an old horn from a new one. Old engravings often start deep when the knife first enters but then pressure is decreased and the rest of the line has uniform depth. Lines made with a knife and not a dentist's drill won’t end abruptly but will extend beyond the image's outline.

Collectors look for the "warmth and glow" emanating from an antique powder horn. The most prized horns are those with maps engraved on them. Often they show forts or towns along a river. Some originated as guidelines allowing soldiers to find their way back to forts. They became popular Ind eventually were professionally made by hornsmiths. Some map horns, though are believed to have been carved long after the war when soldiers returned tome. In some cases, horns were used as proof of military service, thus qualifying their owners to a pension.

While ordinary 18th- and 19th-century horns are common and usually sell for $10 to $40, those engraved with intricate artwork have attained the level of treasured American folk art worth thousands of dollars. Engraved horns can sell for as little as $34 and as much as $34,000. Many engraved horns came from the area around Lake George, New York, site of Fort Ticonderoga. Horns inscribed with historic names from that region are more valuable.

To read more articles on antiques, please visit the Antiques Article section of my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the other 18,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about Colonial America in the Spring 2018 Edition, "Early Americana," online now.

Idealized Scenes from Life

QUESTION: I’ve grown to love the scenes on English transferware. I’ve got a small collection that I add to from time to time. How did the makers of these wares know what sort of scenes to use to decorate their wares? Were they trying to illustrate stories or myths? Nearly all of the scenes on my pieces are rural. Is there a reason for that?

ANSWER: These are all good questions. The Victorians had a method to their madness, as the old saying goes. As it turns out, the scenes on your Staffordshire transferware pieces were a direct result of historic events and the lifestyles that people led at the time.

During the 19th century, Victorians began exploring the world around them.  Technological advances enabled them to make more ambitious voyages of discovery. And as they journeyed farther from home, their views of the natural world changed. This changing perspective reflected in the decorations of 19th-century ceramics ranging from early historical and romantic Staffordshire transfer printed wares to late 19th-century majolica. Idealized wilderness and pastoral scenes could be found on all types of vessels and dishes.

By this time Americans had begun to develop a different view of the land. To the Puritans, wilderness had been considered a land of devils and demons, a domain to be feared. But the Victorians reveled in the beauty of nature.

The American frontier had been pushed westward. Following this trend, Staffordshire potteries began producing transfer printed landscapes illustrating the popular, romantic ideal of nature. Favorite spots such as Niagara Falls and Newport, Rhode Island, began to accommodate sightseers. And the Romantic Movement of the first half of the 19th century influenced the images on ceramics, from country scenes to floral motifs.

The Victorians developed a passion for natural history. They chronicled what they found in journals--the world's flora, fauna, and sea life—and created museums for their discoveries, erecting home conservatories, and published illustrated volumes on the natural sciences. Staffordshire artists thumbed through botany texts and visited botanical gardens and zoos, sketch-pads in hand, for inspiration. Some of this fascination may be seen in the border designs created by several of the potters of  Staffordshire wares and the floral motifs seen in Flow Blue.

Another reason for the popularity of a romanticized image of woodlands, mountains, sandy shores, and even idyllically situated American towns may be traced to the actual dirtiness and difficulty of life in both rural and urban landscapes.

Scenes on dinnerware were pristine by comparison. Several of the city views do show cattle and sheep in the foreground, but the cleanliness even of those scenes provided at least temporary escape from the dirtiness of the real world.

Another result of the Victorians’ fascination with nature, plus the Victorians’ obsession with death, was the Garden Cemetery Movement, born in Boston. In 1832, a group created the Auburn Cemetery, a large rural cemetery in rolling countryside with plenty of room for adequate burials. The site was also far enough away from the city to make grave robbery difficult. They adorned the  garden cemetery landscape with sculptures and artful groupings of trees and flowers to combine a necessity for more burial land with a desire to revel in nature.

The sylvan burial plots brought families to the large, rural cemeteries on picnics. Young couples took long strolls and individuals wandered among sepulchers and statuary to seek out moral lessons and inspiration. In essence, the new cemeteries became the first American public parks—places to commune both with nature and the dearly departed.

This combination of movements explains several unusual historical Staffordshire prints. Neither George Washington nor Benjamin Franklin would have ever expected anyone to spend time ruminating over his grave. Yet Enoch Wood & Son in both the illustrations of “Franklin's Tomb” and `Washington's Tomb” depict General Lafayette reclining by urn-capped tombs drawing inspiration from the resting places of his departed allies. Edward and George Phillips, two other noted artists of the time, show a young couple gazing at a tomb in an open glade in their print “Franklin.” This example appeared on a handless tea cup. Enoch Wood & Sons produced the most unusual print and the one that illustrates romantic death, titled “Washington Standing by His Own Tomb With a Scroll in His Hand.”

So the illustrations on pieces of Staffordshire aren’t random but related to the everyday lives of the people who used those dishes and other ceramic vessels.

Learn more about the Victorian obsession with death by reading "When Death Came A-Calling" in The Antiques Almanac.

Ring the Bells for Bell Pottery

QUESTION: While out antiquing at a cooperative this past weekend, I came across a beautiful hand-painted, porcelain water pitcher decorated with flowers jammed on a shelf full of junk. The price was $10, so I figured for that price I could afford to buy it. It stands about 11 inches tall and has “BBC/CHINA” stamped on the bottom in black. I’ve never saw a mark like this before and the vase looked like a copy of more expensive Haviland china.

ANSWER: It seems that you’ve stumbled upon a rare piece of china made by the Bell Pottery Company of Findlay, Ohio. The firm only produced fine china rivaling French Haviland and Limoges porcelain for five years, from 1899 to 1904. And for that reason, the pieces are scarce. The dealer in that coop probably also thought it was a copy.

Located in northwestern Ohio, Findlay is better known for its glass. Bell located there because of cheap natural gas which it used to fire its kilns. The pottery began as a partnership between three East Liverpool, Ohio, men—brothers William M. and Edward F. Bell and Henry W. Flentke—who named their new company the Bell Brothers & Co. Pottery. Unfortunately, a series of disasters befell the young company, so it’s life was short lived.

Bell Pottery fired its first wares in July 1889, and by the following month 150 workers kept the dinnerware, toilet ware and hotel china rolling out. By March 1890, the pottery was running night and day and unable to keep up with orders. The partners added three new kilns to increase production.

The first problem occurred in January, 1891, when all the employees struck because of an attempt by the owners to reduce wages. By July, the Bells and Flentke settled the labor dispute and most of the old hands went back to work. But in March 1892, a shortage of natural gas became a problem, and the pottery had to rely on purchased gas from the city. In January 1893, the pottery converted to coal, which meant that all of their raw materials now had to be imported, and in May 893, a rumor that the plant would be leaving Findlay surfaced. That same month, a severe windstorm blew the roof off the decorating room on the third floor of the south building and destroyed six kilns north of the decorating room, causing over $8,000 damage.

In April 1894, the partners began to disagree and with the dissolution of the partnership, the court ordered the property to be sold. Flentke, then living in Evansville, Indiana, stopped the sale of the pottery. He resolved the differences between himself and the Bell brothers before the sale date, enabling the pottery to resume operations in August 1894, after a year of standing idle. But the peace lasted only two years, and in January of 1896, the court once again ordered the property sold for not less than $30,000. The  Bell brothers purchased the pottery for 36,450 and paid Flentke $7,295 for his share. By that time, the pottery hadn’t been in full operation for four years, and foreign imports had reduced the demand for its wares.

In 1898, the Bell brothers incorporated the firm as the Bell Pottery Company. A sherd from one of the early wares, marked “BBC/CHINA,” was discovered at an Ohio farmhouse site.

In August 1899, the Bell Pottery announced that it would begin producing hand-decorated white china, employing about 25 decorators. Common decorative motifs included currants, roses, blackberries, chestnuts and hops. By December, improvements included the installation of an oval dish jigger to enable the production of footed dishes for use as nut bowls or candy dishes.

Following a serious fire in April 1900, and more storm damage in June 1900, which knocked down both smokestacks for the decorating kilns, the Bell brothers erected a new brick building, and in 1901, issued additional stock with the intention of doubling the pottery’s capacity, employing 400. Their intention was to produce fine china that rivaled Haviland.

As often happens with small, young companies, they expanded too much and too fast. The Bell brothers planned on building a second factory in Columbus, Ohio, but William Bell died suddenly in 1902. His brother Edward took over management of the pottery, which soon became a union shop.

Edward had grand plans for the Columbus operation. He planned on 17 buildings with 12 kilns, to be doubled as the need arose. Lack of equipment caused more delays. By November 1904, he announced that he would move the Findlay operation to Columbus. The new pottery produced wares for about a year but by September of 1906, it was in the hands of a receiver.

Today, Bell vases and pitchers sell for $150 to $200 while smaller mugs and nut bowls sell for $50 to $75 each.

Royal Botanicals

QUESTION: A dealer at a high-end antique show had several unique pieces of porcelain dinnerware which he called Royal Copenhagen. According to him, the pattern is Flora Danica. These beautiful dishes had the most delicate and detailed floral decoration I’ve ever seen. What can you tell me about this dinnerware?

ANSWER: Royal Copenhagen's Flora Danica is one of the most prestigious dinner services still in production today. It is also one of the oldest. The first piece emerged from the kiln in 1790.

Since Meissen's rediscovery of porcelain in the 18th century, people judged the progress of a nation by its porcelain production, and most European rulers quickly founded their own porcelain workshops.

In Denmark, chemist Frantz Henrich' Muller received the backing of the royal family and spent years attempting to make hard paste porcelain. In 1775, he succeeded. Soon after, the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Manufactory began production. The royal family financially supported the operation, and Queen Julianne Marie took special interest in its production. It was her idea to have three blue wavy lines, symbolizing the three Danish waterways, as the company's trademark.

In 1761 George Christian Oeder, the director of the botanical gardens in Copenhagen, published an encyclopedia of the national flora of Denmark. He got the support of the royal family and engaged engraver Michael Rossler and his son, Martin, to undertake the huge project. He called his encyclopedia Flora Danica, and it took more than 100 years to complete. It included 3,000 hand-colored copperplate prints depicting every wild plant in Denmark, including flowers, fungi, mosses, and ferns. Crown Prince Frederick, later King Frederick VI, liked the progress of this new folio and decided to commission a dinner service decorated with flora from the new publication. He needed a gift for Czarina Catherine II of Russia and thought a beautiful dinner set depicting the nation's flora would be a worthy gift for a member of royalty.

The King commissioned Johann Christoph Boyer, one of the most talented artists of the late 18th century, to transfer the flora from the folio onto a dinner service.

The Flora Danica dinner service turned out to be Boyer's life work. It ultimately deprived him of all his strength and destroyed his eyesight, as he had to work in poor light during the long dark winter months in Denmark. He did almost all the hand-painted floral decoration on the 1,802 individual pieces himself. When his eyesight became very poor in 1799, Christian Nicolai Faxic painted, gilded and ornamented 158 pieces. Soren Preus modeled the applied flowers from 1784 to 1801.The project came to an end in 1802 when Boyer could no longer work. By this time Catherine hurriedly carried over the service, which had been stored with the silver in a special room adjacent to the royal chapel. Servants transported the rest of the service to the Chinese Room in the Rosenberg Castle, where it’s safely guarded to this day.

Of the 1,802 pieces of the original Flora Danica service delivered in 1803, 1,530 have survived. Selected ones are still used on the royal table of Queen Margrethe II on state occasions at Amalienborg Palace, the residence of the Danish royal family.

When Flora Danica appeared in 1790, workmanship was a high priority. Skilled artisans executed serrated edges and carvings by hand on the soft wet porcelain body. Other artisans hand-modeled flower bouquets on lids, covers and handles leaf by leaf, petal by petal, and stamen by stamen. The stamens are so small they had to be added to the flowers with the point of a needle.

It took artistic skill to paint the flora as it wasn’t easy to “translate” the plant drawings to the curved surfaces of the porcelain. It took painters over12,000 individual brush strokes to complete one dinner plate. When possible, they painted the flowers the same size as the illustrations in the Flora Danica work.

The outstanding modeling of the pieces and the power of the painting amazes collectors. Prices are high for Flora Danica pieces, and the market is brisk. Recently on an Internet auction a Flora Danica platter sold for $1,500 and a wine cooler went for $2,600. Dinner plates sell from $700 to $900. A cup and saucer can sell for as much as $500 to $600.

Royal Copenhagen’s Flora Danica is still made today. And while few people can afford to collect an entire dinner set, most collectors have a few select pieces in their porcelain collections.

Beauty in a Little Box

QUESTION: My favorite aunt left me a beautiful metal jewelry box that looks like tarnished silver. It’s got daisies on it and on the bottom it’s marked “N.B. Rogers.” I know that Rogers Brothers is famous for its silver flatware, but did they also make jewelry boxes? Also, what can you tell me about the design of this box?

ANSWER: Sorry to burst your bubble, but your jewelry box isn’t made of silver. It’s actually white metal, also known as “Britannia” or art metal and dates from the first decade of the 20th century. And the flower on it is a lotus flower, not a daisy.

The creation of mail order catalogs by Marshall Field, Montgomery Ward, Sears, Roebuck and Company, and Macy's in the late 19th century made it possible for the average middle class woman to purchase lovely fashions and accessories at affordable prices.

One of these accessories was the jewelry box—more popularly called the jewel box—a repository for her most precious jewelry and keepsakes. The growth in popularity of these "art metal" jewel boxes, also called jewel caskets or jewel cases, paralleled the growth of catalog shopping which promoted them as ' dainty gifts for Milady." Jewel boxes came in sizes ranging from the smallest ring box to large handkerchief and glove boxes.

Between 1900 and 1910, Art Nouveau, a French term meaning "new art" coined by Maison de 1'Art Nouveau, a Paris gallery which opened in 1895, was the predominant design style in the United States. A romantic style influenced by the art forms of Japan, it used many motifs borrowed from nature, including flowers, leaves, vines, and birds. It also became known for its curves and asymmetrical elements. Of the Art Nouveau jewel boxes produced in the United States, those with the floral motifs were the most popular.

The two most prevalent flowers used on jewel boxes were roses and poppies. Daisies, four-leaf-clovers, lily of the valley, pond lilies, violets, carnations, and a myriad of other flowers also decorated jewel boxes. This maybe due, in part, to the important role flowers played during the Victorian era.

The jewelry trade promoted the “Flower of the Month” concept during the early 1900s. Fueled by consumers’ desire for more decorative objects, the jewelry industry improved production, distribution and marketing methods. Little by little, the role of flowers as a decorative motif became the central theme. Manufacturers assigned specific flowers to birth months, decorating jewel boxes with roses of love for June, carnations for admiration for February, and holly for foresight for December.

The interiors of these jewel boxes were as beautiful as their exteriors. Linings of fine silk, faille, jacquard, and satin gave them a luxurious appearance. Because silk could be easily dyed, it came in a rainbow of colors, although jewel box linings used the pale hues of pink, green, and blue. Manufacturers trimmed trimmed the linings with a fine twisted-silk cording.

During the early part of the 20th century, many American manufacturers produced art metal wares, with jewel boxes being one of their most popular items. Many of these manufacturers have long passed into history but one, Rogers Brothers, still exists today. There were several "Rogers" brothers in business at the turn of the century, and the name gained national recognition due, in large' part, to the wide distribution of mail order catalogs. The name became so popular that other companies tried to adopt it, results in many lawsuits. Though the original Rogers family became known for its flatware, one brother, N. Burton Rogers; founded his own art metal company and produced many Art Nouveau jewel boxes marked “N.B. Rogers.”.

By 1915, the popularity of art metal jewel boxes had reached its peak: With the coming of World War I, production slowed. The earlier naturalistic, yet interpretive Art Nouveau flowers, leaves, and vines, had become "conventional" floral decoration. By 1925, the production of art metal jewel boxes had ceased altogether.