More English Deco: the Beauty of Poole Pottery

On my trip to England last summer, on a rainy Saturday on Portobello Road, I was captivated by a small plate made in the 1920s at Poole Pottery.  I knew of the company from my studies of English Deco ceramics but did not own any pieces or know much about evaluating and dating their products.  A very nice gentleman told me about his plate, that it was painted by Marjorie Batt in the mid-1920s, which he could tell from her cipher painted on the underside.  That day I began a new collection, comprising three pieces of Poole so far (I bought a second piece in the afternoon, a very attractive small vase done in the 1950s, from the commercial line).  I've done some reading since and know that my three hand-painted pieces with floral motifs might have been based on designs by Phoebe or Harold Stabler rather than the better known, more geometric, designs of Truda Carter.  Like Clarice Cliff  Truda Carter, John Adams and the Stablers were influenced by French Art Deco, and their designs and wares are equally intriguing.  Since they worked with matte glazes the colors are softer than Cliff's, and less hot.

Dreamy Creamware

I saw many wonderful, inspiring gardens in England as part of my course on the Arts and Crafts Garden, on side trips with other students in the program, and two on my own in London: the Chelsea Physics Garden and Regents Park.  My first day in London had glorious weather, sunny and warm, and the garden was enormously interesting.  I especially liked the fern house, but then I've been partial to ferns for a few years as deer do not eat them.  I visited with a cat, too.  On Sunday I went to see Regents Park where I'd never been despite all the time I've spent in London: Queen Mary's Rose Garden is awe-inspiring, and there is a beautiful flower border near the collection of David Austin roses that follows Gertrude Jekyll's precept of gradations in the intensity of color.  Then it poured rain, as it had on Saturday when I shopped for antiques on Portobello Road and Church Street.  Which brings me to the subject of this blog: a creamware jelly mold that I found.  It is lovely, softer in color and feel than the ironstone molds I know.  The motif is a branch of plums, indicating this was a cold dessert mold, used for sweetmeats and fruits set in aspic or blanc mange.  It is early, about 1820, but late enough to have a proper base to stand on.  The earlier molds did not stand on their own but would be stabilized in a sand box while the contents set.   

Now for Something Completely Different

A crib from Monty Python, I know, just to let you know I'm going to England and it's not just to buy antiques and collectibles.  I'm going to pursue another interest of mine: gardens, specifically the great gardens of the Arts and Crafts era by taking a course at Oxford.  We'll be studying some of the design geniuses including one of my favorites, William Morris.  I'll be in residence at Merton College for three weeks, no doubt trying to keep up with younger classmates and recollecting my own younger self.  I had that experience once in London, mentally recreating myself at 20 on my junior year abroad - until I caught sight of the grey-haired lady that was my reflection.  But it should be grand: time off from my job, time away from the grueling hot summers in Maryland, a mental challenge to remember Latin plant names (I Google) - and some free time to hunt for treasures.  This might take my collecting in a whole new direction: garden accessories.  I've always wanted better ones.
 I write up descriptions of wonderful American gardens for the Smithsonian's Archives of American Gardens, and the photographs are extremely important to the story.  I'm considering what to do about taking the pictures myself.  Gardens are not  easy to photograph as there's always something beyond the frame that would provide context, but if you go too wide angle the plants lose their identities. Well I hope to be in a world of beauty and fragrance at least some of the time - and not too many grueling hours of academics. 
 

Demitasse Are Not for the Birds

A few months ago I had the opportunity to purchase a selection of antique and vintage demitasse cups and saucers from a private collection.  My choices were primarily English and dated from the mid 19thc. to the early 20thc.  Many were in blue transfer printed on white bone china.  And many images are of birds: Japanese birds on bamboo, storks, pheasants, and lovely bits of flora that put the birds in a naturalistic setting.  There is a superstition that it is bad luck to have birds in the house, which I've heard from several people whose family lore came from  middle Europe.  Not a problem for the Victorian and Edwardian ceramicists who worked on the designs of my demitasse.  Apparently not a problem for 20thc. Soviets, either.  One cup from the USSR is decorated with a twee bird.   

A Foray into Another Collection: Depression Glass

Red Petalware Cream and Sugar

Several months ago I purchased a nearly complete set of red coated Petalware, a depression glass made by MacBeth-Evans in the 1930's: eight dinner plates, eight side plates, eight saucers, seven teacups, seven two-handled soups, and a cream pitcher and sugar bowl.  I fell for the color: I have always liked the simple design of  Petalware and have other pieces in monax (translucent white).  When I started researching  I couldn't find any reference to opaque red - and I thought I'd made a novice mistake, seduced by  visual appeal without knowing whether it was a genuine period collectible.  Since then I've been reassured by someone who shared their knowledge that my collectible checks out, made by the original company during the original time of manufacture (some depression glass patterns have been reproduced).  That's what I want to pass along: none of us knows everything about every item we collect and it's great when someone else shares knowledge with no expectation of pay-off  

A Beautiful Print Needs to be Authenticated

Another interest of mine is gardening and many items I've collected over the years have images of flowers.   I purchased this print for its sheer beauty, and then began learning about it.  I researched James Vick, Importer and Grower of Flower Seeds of Rochester, New York, and learned he was a merchant and printer in the 1800s, the owner of one of the first companies to market garden seeds to the general public.  He also gave out prints as premiums with seed purchases, and his printing company was another successful business venture.  However, there are some elements of this lovely bouquet (complete with tiny numbers,  presumably citations for his sales catalogue) that indicate this may be a beautiful fake that did not come from Vick's workshop.  First it is  larger, at about 16 by 19-1/2 inches, than Vick's premium posters.  Second it has a "funny" date in the lower right-hand corner - although that may be a reference to a particular catalogue from which all these varieties of flowers were sold.  It is not a new fake - no dot matrix - but could it be a 19th century one from someone trying to trade in Vick's success?