Compass Boxes continued

Long ago, I mentioned the compass boxes I'm studying. A little more than a week ago I gave a workshop at the museum on these for a group of collectors, scholars, and dealers. I feel great about how it went, and I think we had almost 20 boxes and 30-40 people in the room that day. Though I spent all fall working on the project, I've really only begun. I've located over 60 objects now, and have made a lot of observations, but I still don't have real conclusions yet. I hesitate to make these at this point, because of the sensitive nature of the topic, which is affected by both market prices and existing ideas about the boxes.

Anyway, this was my first public presentation where I was not a part of a symposium or group of people presenting. I survived!

I have a Folk Art Cat

My cat looks like a folk art cat. I'm going to paint him in that style for my roommate. If it works out, I will post the painting here later. I'm using this photo (he posed by that book all by himself: it reminds me of an Olan Mills photo). The image above is from the American Radiance catalogue from the American Folk Art Musuem. I've been looking at so much folk art this semester, and I'm getting really into portraits and still lifes. I think some people find the portraits a little creepy (they can be) but there is something I love about them. The goal here is to keep Charlie from looking creepy in my painting, and to make the stylistic influence clear. I don't want people to think we are a couple of freaky cat ladies (maybe we are on our way now though?), but I feel like he's got to be painted.

Day of Utter Happiness

Yesterday was a day filled with good things - things that felt especially good during what might be the most hectic week of the semester! [1] Went to visit a compass artist blanket chest, [2] a very special object arrived at the museum for me to study (I literally ran down the hallway to go see it, very mature), [3] received an e-mail that could possibly lead to a job in the future, and [4] received a scan of the entire "lost" document pictured above: the Art-in-Trades Club 1913 constitution, by-laws, lectures, club members, etc. from the best librarian ever at the Met.

To top it off, my roommate gave me a holiday mug covered in peppermint designs.

My compass box

As an exercise for my connoisseurship project, I made my own compass box. The good thing is, my work could never be mistaken for the original (and I painted an old cigar box...). I bought a compass with two points (no pencil) and then scribed the lines. Then I painted it blue, and then applied the red and white over the lines, and did a little of the freehand stuff too. I used the box in the Katcher Collection (see the Expressions of Eloquence catalogue) as a model. The cool thing is, I think the boxes really were this bright when they were first made. I also realized that it really doesn't take much work to create these: I purposefully didn't try super hard to make it perfect, and it's not so bad! The compass marks don't even need measuring, I just eyeballed those.

Glassware Wrapping Paper

Someone gave this wrapping paper to a classmate of mine, who is the glass queen and future glass curator. It was first given to the third party wrapped around something, then to my friend, and then documented by me, so I don't know where it comes from. Possibly a glass museum gift shop, or the V&A because they often have awesome stuff like this. When I try to google this paper, I come up with advice on how to wrap glassware... so, no luck finding it so far.

This paper is so nerdy but so cool: each type of glass is labeled with its name and date range. I'm partial to the jelly glass from the early 19th century, in the center of the paper, because I spent a semester studying these and their contents. I loved a recipe I found for "everlasting whip-syllabub," which would last over a week (and contained dairy!). Historic cooking can be kind of gross.

Great Quote

"And so, with the Art-in-Trades Club showing how furnishings are to be used properly, and with the Metropolitan Museum putting the stamp of approval upon interior furnishings as art objects, is it any wonder that some in the home furnishing trade hear opportunity knocking very definitely at the door? If now is not the time to popularize interior furnishings, when is the time?"

That's from the review of the AITC 1924 exhibition, in The Decorative Furnisher. It is awesome and it is going in my thesis. Somewhere.

Business Time

That time in the semester has begun. The time when I have no life, don't see daylight very often (no windows in the library) and am doing actual work. Which means I don't have much that's exciting to post here. I've got a couple things I want to write about but I have to get the images first, so that's holding me up.

Thesis is going well. It has become less about textiles and more about design history. I'm hoping the organization I'm writing about will help fill some of the gaps in the timeline and themes of the traditional story of polemic modernism. I think my window into the commercial side of design is something less discussed in the literature.

My boxes are going well too. We have been doing some investigation with blacklight, infrared photography, and microscopes to learn more about the fabrication and details of the boxes. I am going to work on genealogy of the names from the inscriptions, now that we have great IR images of them. Also, four more boxes are coming up for sale, two of which I will see on Monday.

And next week is the Delaware Antiques Show. I'm so excited to be there for setup, the preview party, and all the festivities. Hoping to get my network on.

Chandelier Stamp

Last semester I wrote about a weird cut glass object that looked a little like a girandole but was made for serving desserts - so I ended up reading a lot about how girandoles and chandeliers were made. Now I am obsessed with cut glass, related lighting objects, and chandeliers. I was even going to be a chandelier for Halloween this year, but the costume wouldn't have lasted the night, so I gave up.

I was browsing etsy for things with chandeliers and found some gift tags made using a rubber stamp of a chandelier. A little googling brought me to the stamp itself, sold by a company called Impress. I want this, but I know that the people in my life will get sick of cards and gifts covered with chandeliers a lot faster than I will... so maybe it's not a good idea.

December Interior Update

So, my parents are out to thwart me! Just kidding, but they were looking at the December print I posted, and noticed a window shade in the right window. Spring roller shades, according to my father, were not patented until 1864. So, does this mean this print is later than that, and that the artist accidentally used a modern type of furnishing in an interior meant to portray the early 19th century? I don't know. I do think that some type of shades were being used before 1864, but they would not have had springs or been self-rolling. I found a few images of interiors with shades from the 1820-1850s.

The style and paper say ca. 1830 to me. I will say, however, that in my first post about this print, I only made a guess at the date of the interior, not the print itself. The print does not depict a scene contemporary to its making.

William Morris Tools

It's probably pretty common knowledge that the gift shop at the Victoria & Albert Museum is awesome. The fact that they have a pretty good online shop makes it even better, and to top it off, they are selling William Morris printed tools! My roommate recently told me about a study in which they concluded that women were more likely to buy something (like tools) if they were pink. Well, how about textile-printed tools! These are so awesome, I can't even express it. I also feel like Morris is appropriate for tools: the individual can produce their handcrafted creations (and look good doing it).

December Interior

Here we are on another stop of the senile scenic tour* of my meager art collection. Another find in my favorite rare book store, I found this lone etching (come on, print connoisseurship block!) of December without any of its companion months. Because any possible identifying information has been cut off, I don't know much about it, or the where it comes from. Under usual circumstances I might try to find this out (maybe I'll write about one such project next), but I am too busy with school right now!

What we have going on here is probably a late 18th century (or even early 19th c., since the dude might be old and outdated, as he is in the "December" of his life...) interior, that might be British. The textiles are great here, because those are objects that tend not to survive as well in real life: the bed hangings, carpet, window hangings, and slip covers on various pieces of furniture. The hand coloring is nice too, though I never know how to tell when that would have been added. I have to figure out how to study interiors of all kinds. Can someone tell me where that job is?

*Thank you, Lorraine Buchbinder, for this phrase.

Claire Coles Wallpaper

My mother, an awesome librarian at the Cleveland Museum of Art, often sends me books, articles from magazines and newspapers, and other tidbits that relate to what I study. She used to work in the library where I pretty much live now, and she is one of the few people who fully understand what I do and why. Anyway, a few days ago she sent me some material from the museum of wallpaper in Alsace, as well as a little clipping about Claire Coles. Coles is an artist and designer who makes a variety of objects including ceramics and wearable art, but the article was about her wallpaper creations. She uses old "forgotten" papers she collects, and stitches them together, sometimes adding leather and other materials. My favorite design from her website is this one with lamp shades, because, of course, I love the decorative art within the decorative art.

Snippet: Svenskt Tenn

Today historian Robert Crocker told me about the Swedish "lifestyle company" Svenskt Tenn. They were founded in 1924, in part by designer Josef Frank (who designed the textile above). Just go check out their website: it rocks, and the furniture and textiles are pretty cool too.

Spatterware!

Ah, spatterware. I borrowed this snippet of Spatterware Hall at Winterthur from an article in Traditional Home magazine. According to our curator there are over 1300 pieces of this stuff in this room, which is probably why it's not appreciated by students in my program. We've got so much of it, I always wondered why it was desirable. After seeing this stuff bring pretty high prices at the auction last week, I asked my boss (a super-knowledgeable antiques dealer) about it. He told me that, in the scheme of things, there really isn't that much of this out there. I guess we have most of it (the "mother lode" according to TH magazine). I'll let you go read about it on your own: this is not a history of spatterware. I will also refrain from discussing my personal feelings about these ceramics. People I've encountered tend to have pretty visceral reactions to it, good and bad.

On a related topic, I actually like Traditional Home, though the name turned me off at first. Sure, I can't afford anything in it, but it's not about that for me. I'm not shopping. I like their antiques and collecting section, which is often written or produced by the Kenos. And, I appreciate that you can read a lot of their articles online for free.

NYT Guide to "The Age of Rembrandt"

This guide to "The Age of Rembrandt" exhibition at the Met was published in the NYT online on September 20th, but I'm just now playing around with it. While I was doing research at the Met a couple weeks ago I did the fast-forward version of the show. I chose a few paintings and spent about an hour there, and it is AWESOME. Alright, so I'm easy to please in this department, but there were some paintings I had never seen before, some of which are highlighted in the NYT guide. This online guide shows you the floor plan and organization of the show, and gives detailed information for 13 of the 228(!) paintings on display. For the site, art critic Holland Cotter narrates the highlights, providing a mini art history lesson with each one. So, head over to the online arts section and get yourself a little schoolin'.

Paul Frankl and Walter Kantack: Rebels

Okay, so they weren't really rebels, but they did make "original" designs for the Art-In-Trades Club exhibition of 1926. There were a few others who submitted similar designs, but for the most part the catalogue presents period style. Right now I have the club's exhibition catalogues from 1924 and 1926 (and plan on seeing the others in NYC soon). Both of the books I have now show a few designs inspired by the Paris Expo among the many revival interiors and objects. Yesterday I spoke with historian Cheryl Robertson, who actually used to teach in my program, about the club and design during their time period. One thing she told me to figure out is if their statement of purpose (or activities) really changed during the war (WWI). Post-war design (and society for that matter) seemed to be more accepting of all things corporate, unlike the individual craftsman champions of the arts and crafts movement. It's actually a little difficult to tell if the club favored the manufacturer or the individual designer (as pictured in this page from their catalogue), because they sort of do both. They definitely state in their introduction to the show that they accept the commercial, though they would like to wed art and the trade. Seeing all of the catalogues and getting a handle on the information I do have will help me figure out what's going on here. What is their mission statement? What are they doing? What do they produce? What are they doing for society (or at least the design field)? Do the products of club members align with their written goals? Where do they fit in design history? Could this club be an alternative to the current scholarly narrative of Modernism? Are they part of it - another side of the story? And that is pretty much my thesis in a very very tiny nutshell.

This is not about design: Google Analytics

My friend Brian told me about Google Analytics a few days ago, and it is SO cool. It tells me how many people are viewing my blog, exactly what city they are viewing from, and all these other stats. Did you click on any type of link to get here? G. A. will tell me that link, how many times you clicked on it, and how long you spent looking at my blog. Don't let that stop you though! A few people were sent here via Joanna's awesome blog, some through facebook, some through direct links I sent them, but most just through the blogger site. I haven't gotten any comments, really, so it's nice to see readers documented. So far my most distant readers have been from Oregon and Canada.

Thanks for visiting!

Samuel Gottscho

I bought this postcard of the Brooklyn Public Library's circulation hall and entrance because I thought the metalwork was cool, and it's a pretty unusual scene for a postcard. After I got it home, I did a little research on Samuel Gottscho (the photographer for this card). Turns out he was a pretty famous interior/architectural photographer during the first half of the 20th century. There is a huge database of his work with photographer William Schleisner at the Library of Congress, and I found out he (or they) shot this in 1941. Most of his work is of New York, and there's a book on it by Donald Albrecht: The Mythic City (2005). Even though it seems Gottscho's work is characterized by bold cityscapes, I like this simple, quiet image. There's something slightly funny about that little desk flanked by huge pillars in the middle of such a large space: the guy looks vulnerable. I'm pretty sure an image like this wouldn't make the cut for Albrecht's book, but I dig.

I'm a hypocrite: I love Ackermann's

I bought this print in August from a rare book store in Kennett Square, PA. Even though I worried earlier that John Derian might be taking books apart for the sake of art, this is clearly taken from Ackermann's Repository of Arts, a 19th century British periodical (and I'm okay with that). This "French Bed Chamber" was published in the May 1815 issue, which would have been about half the size of this image (which is about 7x10"). The larger page would have folded out to provide this view. I enjoy all the "stuff" I study, but I might most love interior scenes, both images and all variations of the period room. Even though this is obviously an idealized image of what a "French" bedroom should look like, it's still a useful source (and fun!). From browsing through the bound volumes of Ackermann's in our library, it seems that there were one or two images like this in each issue. Sometimes they were fashion plates, sometimes prescriptive interiors, maybe country houses, and other random scenes. I found a really great one of an interior of a shop filled with gifts to be given to a Chinese emperor (can't remember more details off the top of my head). So, they are both documentary and prescriptive: use with caution. Rare book stores around here seem to have Ackermann's prints fairly often. I also got a smaller one of a sideboard, and a classmate found one with a klismos chair and center table, both hand-colored like this one. They also make good apartment decoration for the poor dec arts grad student. I'm working on getting this archivally framed.

Really though, the bottom line is that I want to live in this little world pictured here.

Auction weekend

I'm pretty excited for this weekend, because the Pook & Pook auction is going to be awesome. I'm going tomorrow for the preview, and will hopefully get to handle some things. I'm on the lookout for boxes like the one in the last post. I won't find one painted in the same manner, but there are some similarly shaped versions in the catalogue that I want to get a good look at. I'm going with the curator I'm working on the project with, so I'll have her expert eyes in addition to my eyes-in-training.

On Friday night I'll be going to the first half the the auction. I've been to one auction at P&P, and they had some nice stuff, but this one is of interest to me because of the people I'm going with and the projects I'm working on. The last time I was there was for a class assignment. We had to argue/explain why pieces sold for what they did. It was a great learning experience, especially because it reminded all of us that the market is a big part of our lives, even if we are academics.

Ever seen one of these?

This semester I'm working on a specific type of painted box: like the one shown here, which sold at Pook & Pook in April, 2007. The group of boxes and blanket chests with these motifs are loosely attributed to the "compass artist." They are usually blue (now faded to green) or red, with this painted floral decoration which was mapped out with a compass or divider. Only two of them have the small drawers like this. So far I have tracked down 27 objects: 3 slide-lid boxes, 5 blanket chests, and 19 domed boxes. My job is to examine as many as I can to figure out how they were really made, who was making the boxes, who was decorating them (and was it the same person?), etc. I'm still on the lookout for more, but will begin detailed examination of the ones at my museum.

I guess I'm posting about this for two reasons: maybe people have seen more elsewhere, and also because specific projects help people understand what I do. Comparing this with my thesis gives you an idea of the range of projects I work on here.

I. Love. This.

For fun today I flipped through my good ol' copy of Regency Furniture by Frances Collard. Though the author claims her work is out of date (as is much work done over 20 years ago; it just happens!), I worship this text. If anything, it's a great gathering of primary material, both objects and period images. I first came across the book when I was studying a sewing/music box in the form of a tiny regency piano. Inside, the text has tons of images: furniture, Ackermann's prints, sketches and watercolors of interiors. Collard, a curator at the V&A, was one of many great contacts I made while working on this little piano.

My interest in this book, along with the list of things I studied last year (tiny piano, full size 1820s piano, early 19th c. prints, and 1820-30s interiors) forces me to admit that I have an obsession with this time period. It's nice to figure out what you're passionate about. Some day I will own a Grecian couch.

Post-NY

I've returned from my trip to New York, which has been one of discoveries. The most relevant being related to my thesis research: The Decorative Furnisher wielded much more than I expected. I hadn't been able to figure out why I couldn't find an exhibition catalogue for the Art-in-Trades Club industrial design show for 1925. A 1925 DF article explained that there was no exhibition that year. Under the influence of the Paris Exposition, the club apparently requested only "original" designs, and submitters didn't live up to their expectations, so the whole thing was canceled. The following year they exhibited both "period" and "original" designs. That was their final exhibition, however. This week I plan to process all of the information I gleaned from the pages of the magazine. One thing that also interested me was the fact that reviewers and authors stress that the shows were not commercial. What does this say about the work being made for exhibition?

I've just read that, according to one scholar, there is no definition for art deco textiles. Not having one makes it more difficult to compare them to other types of textiles. I'm finding that the more I learn in grad school, the less I understand larger ideas and traditional definitions of style, movements, etc.

Thesis thoughts

I'm finally going up to the Met to look at their copies of The Decorative Furnisher, which was a trade periodical running from 1906-1944 (and then from 1944-1950 it was called Home Furnishings Merchandising). For some reason very few libraries have a good run of it. Winterthur's library (my home away from home) only has two issues. I was able to get the Met's 1920s issues pulled from offsite storage, so I'm hoping when I show up there on Thursday they will actually be there! Another trade periodical I've been looking at for my thesis is Good Furniture, which Winterthur has a pretty good run of. Unlike periodicals for the general public, these trade periodicals seem to vanish into oblivion after their demise.

What I love about these periodicals is the presence of both period style and art deco within a single issue. Some aspects of the two fight each other so hard, but sometimes it just seems that either one is simply an option for those with differing tastes in furnishings. What I love even more is reading articles that champion the new "modern" designs over those using the past as an influence, but then you look at the images and clearly see textiles like silk moire, or watered silk, a very old fabric, as upholstery. The example above is from the Met's 11th annual industrial design exhibition in 1929. I've seen other modern textiles have even more obvious historical design sources. What makes a textile modern: the manufacture, the design, or both? And what if the two don't agree?

All of this leads me to my current situation. I have all this research I need to synthesize in order to figure out what ideals and philosophies those interested in period style and modern design were promoting, what sorts of designs they were each producing, and do the actual products conform to the ideas? Context is key here.

John Derian

I bought this John Derian plate in Savannah at the Paris Market & Brocante. I'm poor, but I have a hard time not buying things with decorative arts imagery, so this came home with me, along with a roll of more affordable chandelier printed wrapping paper. Derian is popular: you can buy his stuff in his own store, as well as tons of other places internationally. Here is a description of his process, taken from his website, "John Derian, an avid collector of antique fruit, flower and animal prints, hand-paints borders over centuries-old ledgers and letters. He combines all these elements into charmingly eccentric collages, which are reprinted and pieced together in layers under glass accessories."

So, if I'm reading this correctly, does this mean he does indeed alter some of the original materials, and it's only the finished collages that are reprinted, not the originals? If this is true, it seems sort of wrong. Maybe it's only because I'm curatorially-inclined, but I would rather reproduce the images first, and then create collages from those. In examples like the chair plate there isn't really any collage going on, just the straight image. There is no reason to alter the originals in these cases, so I'm assuming he doesn't (just when there is actually a collage). Some of the collections feature multiple images from the same book, often botanical volumes, and I hope that he isn't cutting the pages out simply to be reproduced on plates.

All that said, I still bought this plate. It's only 5 3/4" in diameter, so I still haven't found the right place for it in my apartment. I planned on hanging it on the wall, but I think it needs companions.

Juliska Glassware

Ever since studying 17th-century Dutch painting, I've been obsessed with the still lifes of Pieter Claesz. After seeing them displayed both at the National Gallery in DC and the Frans Hals Museum in Haarlem alongside the actual objects, I wanted to find good reproductions of the types of glassware in these images. For some reason the most faithful reproductions just didn't look right. Maybe the answer is revival, or inspired, glassware?

While I was putzing around looking at John Derian's work (which brings up some issues that I'll get to in another post), I found Juliksa Glassware. Their tagline is, "possibly the most beautiful tableware in the world," and you know, I think I agree. I've pictured only one collection here, but there are quite a few that are unabashedly historically informed. The creators also have a sense of humor.

Merii Wallpaper

You have to either totally adore or despise this design. Though I have trouble envisioning a room swarthed in its spikey goodness, I love it. This paper was designed in Paris by a company called Merii. I found it in a great book by Odile Nouvel, Wall-papers of France 1800-1850, which pretty much gives away its mystery-date of manufacture. This paper was made in 1827! I asked for guesses here in the library, and got "Victorian" and "the 1930s" in response. I recommend Nouvel's book - it has tons of great color images with detailed information, in French, English, and German.

In my research last semester on early 19th century interiors, I formed a hypothesis as to why tons of historic houses interpreting this period are done so poorly: people can't palate the designs. There are so many crazy patterns from this period that look so modern, I was astonished. Even I got a little queasy when I was pouring through the wallpaper books for examples for my furnishing plan. The French papers tend to be a little more wild than what was produced in America (quelle surprise!). For papers used in America, I recommend visiting Historic New England's wallpaper collection. The history section is well illustrated (and of course well researched!), and the searchable collections catalogue provides samples of papers found in American homes. It's an amazing resource for a scholar or designer.

Retrograde?

My thesis explores 20th century revival textile design, and as part of this project I am studying the Art-In-Trades Club of New York, which was active during the first half of the century. This organization endorsed the use of museum collections (specifically those at the Met) in industrial design. Its members believed the motto of the American designer should be "the old in the new," and their exhibitions during the 1920s championed period styles.

I have been reading both primary and secondary literature related to this topic, and I'm having a difficult time with both standard design history and scholarly discussion of what was Modern, with a capital M. Period style, in comparison to Modernism, is still viewed as retrograde, but even modern objects have elements of historicism, some glaring.

As food for thought (or eye candy?) I'm including an example of wallpaper, which I will talk about next time. Guess when this dates from?