Treasured Books No. 3: Michel de Montaigne

A detail of an anonymous portrait of Michel de Montaigne,
courtesy The Guardian and Bridgeman Art Library

There are some authors who come to be constant companions, whose words enter our minds as easily as conversations with a dear friend. This summer, despite a larger than usual stack of stimulating reading, I've found myself drawn back into Montaigne's Essays. Michel de Montaigne has been called by many the father of the familiar essay, and with an umbrella of influence that includes Charles Lamb, William Hazlitt, Virginia Woolf and Anne Fadiman, it's no wonder. 

An anonymous 17th century portrait of Montaigne,
courtesy the University of Chicago's Montaigne Studies Forum

Michel Eyquem de Montaigne, one of the most influential writers of the French Renaissance, was born near Bordeaux in the Chateau de Montaigne on February 28, 1533. His father was a wealthy humanist merchant who, unusually for the time,  meticulously planned his son's education, even arranging for him to have the advantage of Latin as his first language. According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy: "Given the huge breadth of his readings, Montaigne could have been ranked among the most erudite humanists of the XVIth century. But in the Essays, his aim is above all to exercise his own judgment properly. Readers who might want to convict him of ignorance would find nothing to hold against him, he said, for he was exerting his natural capacities, not borrowed ones. He thought that too much knowledge could prove a burden, preferring to exert his ‘natural judgment’ to displaying his erudition." 

The Chateau de Montaigne, in Saint-Michel-de-Montaigne, in the Dordogne, France.
The castle dates to the 14th century and was Montaigne's family home.
Image courtesy Wikipedia

Indeed, Montaigne is known for being extremely quotable. When I first read the Essays, being an incurable note-taker, I found myself practically re-writing the entire text! Here, I've used what I consider to be tremendous will-power to limit myself to a few gems to give you the flavor of Montaigne's voice:

"He who should teach men to die would at the same time teach them to live."
--Essays, Book I, Ch. 19, That To Study Philosophy Is to Learn to Die

"Accustom him to everything, that he may not be a Sir Paris, a carpet-knight, but a sinewy, hardy, and vigorous young man."
--Essays, Book I, Ch. 25, On the Education of Children

"I speak the truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare; and I dare a little more, as I grow older."
--Essays, Book II, Ch. 2, Of Repentance

"If anyone is charmed by his own knowledge, whilst he looks only on those below him, let him but turn his eye upward toward past ages and his pride will be abated, when he shall find so many thousand wits that trample him under foot." 
-- Essays, Book II, Ch. 6, Use Makes Perfect

"The middle sort of historians (of which the most part are) spoil all; they will chew our meat for us."
--Essays, Book II, Ch. 10, Of Books

An anonymous portrait of Montaigne, ca. 1590
Image, courtesy the Montaigne Studies Forum

My 4-volume set of the Essays was published in 1880 in Boston by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Bound in green tooled leather, with not-very special end papers, these octavos are perfect for me: neither too precious to take along in the car or plane, nor too ordinary to spend hundreds of hours with. The pages, 133 years old now, have the lovely texture of the text imprinted into the paper, and I find myself reading as much with my fingers as my eyes, a sort of aesthetic braille.

They have a charming detail: the frontispiece of each volume includes Montaigne's seal, a set of balance scales with his motto: 'Que sais-je"-- "What do I know?" His library, into which he "retired" to write his essays, is a beautiful space. Montaigne inscribed the following above the fireplace:

IN THE YEAR OF CHRIST 1571 Michael Montaigne, aged 38, on his birthday, the day preceding the Calends of March, already long wearied of the servitude of the law-courts, and of public offices, has retired, with faculties still entire, to the arms of the learned virgins, there to pass in all quiet and security, such length of days as remain to him, of his already more than half-spent years, if so the fates permit him to finish this abode and these sweet ancestral retreats consecrated to his freedom and tranquility and leisure.

Montaigne's tower library, the only surviving 16th century section of the Chateau.
Image courtesy St. Georges.

The ceiling in Montaigne's library, with inscribed beams. For a translation of the
maxims inscribed, click here.
Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

Montaigne's voice has traveled from this inspiring library, down through the centuries with no loss of humor, potency or relevance. These are the perfect books to pick up and enjoy as the mood strikes, as the essays can be taken individually. But beware-- Montaigne is so likable,  so entertaining, that you might find yourself, like me, lost in conversation with him while the rest of your reading stack grows unchecked.

The Bayeux Tapestry

 A detail of the Bayeux Tapestry, with the Norman cavalry ready for battle.
Courtesy, Web Gallery of Art

I've long been fascinated by historical needlework and am an avid practitioner: after all, there is no better way to understand and appreciate an artistic process than to physically do it. There is also something very satisfying in having physical proof of a winter's evenings spent stitching by the fire. As I work, my mind often wanders, and I imagine the long line of people who for thousands of years have sat near a light, needle and thread in hand. Here we have a rare cultural relic, a process which has changed very little-- the linen, needles, silks and wools may be machine made now, but the techniques are the same. The stitches I learned from a beloved teacher are the descendants of those recorded as early as the 5th century BC in China, where they were developed as mending and reinforcing stitches for garments. 

A detail of a needlework project I did a few cold winters ago for my husband. 
Many of the stitches are identical to those in the Bayeux Tapestry.
Image copyright, Parvum Opus.

Scene 43a, depicting the Normans' battle preparations: HIC FECERUN[T] PRANDIUM.
"Here they made breakfast." Courtesy Wikipedia.

You're surely familiar with the Bayeux Tapestry, but I hope you'll enjoy revisiting it as its one of those objects that never fails to amaze. A brief bit of history, from Wikipedia: The Bayeux tapestry "is an embroidered cloth- not an actual tapestry- nearly 70 meters (230 ft) long, which depicts the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England concerning William, Duke of Normandy and Harold, Earl of Wessex, later King of England, and culminating in the Battle of Hastings."

Scene 54, HIC ODO EP[ISCOPU]S BACULU[M] TENENS CONFORTAT PUEROS:
"Here, Bishop Odo, holding a club, gives strength to the boys."
Courtesy Wikipedia.

"According to Sylvette Lemagnen, conservator of the tapestry, The Bayeux Tapestry is one of the supreme achievements of the Norman Romanesque... Its survival almost intact over nine centuries is little short of miraculous... Its exceptional length, the harmony and freshness of its colors, its exquisite workmanship, and the genius of its guiding spirit combine to make it endlessly fascinating."

William, Duke of Normandy
Image courtesy BBC

In this scene, Harold is struck in the eye by an arrow and dies. 
HIC HAROLD REX INTERFECTUS EST, "Here King Harold is slain."
Courtesy Wikipedia.

The tapestry includes about fifty scenes embroidered on linen with Latin tituli or captions. 

No one knows for sure who commissioned or fabricated it, but it's possible that William's half-brother, Bishop Odo had it made in England sometime in the 1070s. After a long and complicated journey, the tapestry has found a permanent home in the Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux in Bayeux, Normandy, France.

A view of a section of the Bayeux Tapestry inside the Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux.
From the UNESCO homepage, courtesy of the French State.

One of my favorite scenes in the tapestry depicts Halley's comet, which appeared in March of 1066.  The comet was considered to be a bad omen for Harold, who would die in the battle of Hastings later that year. In 1066, in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Eilmer of Malmesbury wrote of Halley's comet: " You've come, have you? You've come, you source of tears to many mothers, you evil. I hate you! It is long since I saw you; but as I see you now you are much more terrible, for I see you brandishing the downfall of my country. I hate you!"  

Scene 32 from the tapestry, with the tituli: "ISTI MIRANT[UR] STELLA[M]",
or "the people marvel at the star". The comet is visible at the top right.
Image courtesy Wikipedia.

If you have the opportunity, I heartily recommend a visit to the Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux.  It's nearly impossible to get a feel for the scale and texture of the actual piece which is truly magnificent in person. Until then, I do hope you'll enjoy the following video, which cleverly animates a section of the tapestry, and perhaps, even pick up a needle and thread and continue the conversation with the talented embroiderers who created this beautiful piece almost a thousand years ago.

Elias Geyer's Navy: Fantastical Sea Shell and Silver Drinking Vessels of the 16th and 17th Centuries

Poseidon astride a seahorse, nautilus with jeweled silver gilt mounts,
Elias Geyer, Leipzig, ca. 1590
Copyright Parvum Opus

First, please allow me to beg forgiveness for my extended absence and warmly welcome you back to the Parvum Opus blog! It has been a whirlwind of a spring, with an over-full schedule of fascinating work at the bindery, and a chain of happy family events. I've missed our wonderful conversations and am so happy to return to a more normal schedule now. I can't wait to see what my favorite bloggers have been up to over these past few weeks... 

We are, shockingly, half way through the month of June, and I haven't yet shared the interesting  history of the gilt-mounted nautilus shell that I chose to paint for our calendar this month. The piece shown above was created by Elias Geyer in Leipzig around 1590. A well respected metalsmith at the time, he imagined and fabricated a flotilla of fantastical creatures like sea horses and unicorns with heads and upper bodies executed in jeweled and gilt silver, and hindparts made from exquisitely large turban snail shells. 

A pair of Geyer's sea horse drinking vessels: the cup opens via a hinge at the edge where the sea horse
body and shell meet. Courtesy of the Museum of Applied Arts, Budapest.
Copyright ArsDecorativa.

An Elias Geyer drinking vessel in the form of a basilisk, ca. 1600.
From the collection of the Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden.

In the course of researching this very interesting class of objects, I came across an acquisition proposal written by Dr. Eike D. Schmidt of the Minneapolis Institute of arts. Here is his description of the cultural conditions that produced such fanciful works: 

"From the end of the 16th century, Nautilus shells from the Indo-Pacific Ocean were imported into Europe on a regular basis, where they were admired for their exotic origins and geometric perfection. The fact that their interior chambers follow a logarithmic spiral was interpreted in early modern thought as evidence for the theory that nature from its greatest manifestations (macrocosm) to its smallest details (microcosm) follows a thorough plan. They were seen as proof of the convergence of the bodily and spiritual worlds... and often ultimately of the existence of God. Whereas a few nautilus shells were made into liturgical objects (incense burners), the vast majority were mounted as secular drinking vessels by, generally, outfitting them with mounts of silver, gilt silver and gold figures alluding to the Sea or the element of water (as the nautilus’s original habitat). Silver-mounted nautilus shells were among the most characteristic products of the famous gold- and silversmithing workshops of Augsburg and Nuremberg in Southern Germany and were sought after by collectors all over Europe."

Another Geyer drinking vessel, this time in the form of a griffin bearing a halberd.
From the collection of the Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden.

Dr. Schmidt  continues: "Nautilus cups were (and continue to be) among the most prestigious trophy objects within silver collections, and as such they were frequently represented in still life

paintings, such as those by Willem Claesz. Heda (Dutch, 1594 – c. 1670). But they are

particularly representative of the objects collected in the Renaissance ‘cabinets of curiosities,’ a type of collection, which is an important forerunner of the modern museum as an institution. Striving to put together the rarest and most exotic, wondrous products of nature with the most astonishing accomplishments of human inventiveness and dexterity, that is of naturalia and artificialia as they were called at the time, princes and the richest merchants of the 16th and 17th centuries put together the first large collections of zoological, botanical, and mineralogical specimens blended with the most exquisite works of art. These “cabinets of curiosities” were also known as Kunst- und Wunderkammern (“chambers of art and wonder”). They first emerged in the territory of the Holy Roman Empire and in central Europe, before spreading throughout the remainder of the continent. By combining natura and artificium in a single work, Nautilus cups can be seen as pars pro toto ["a part (taken) for the whole"] embodiments of the very concept of collecting that informed the “cabinets of curiosities” at large."

If you'd like to read more about these works, I've included a link to a 2005 New York Times article, "When fantastical trumps function", by Souren Melikian.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/07/arts/07iht-melik8.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Still Life with Nautilus, attributed to Willem Claesz Heda.
Courtesy of Wikipedia.

Antique Étuis

A gentleman's étui, made in England ca. 1700.
Tortoise shell with silver mounts in the form of a knife box, and including a
salts flacon, knife, ivory tablet, toothpick, pencil, and a combination snuff spoon
and ear wax spoon. Image courtesy 1stdibs.com.

You might have guessed by now that I am endlessly fascinated by beautiful antiques, especially those that fall under the heading of objects of vertu, and personal objects. These intimately scaled masterworks tell a story, not only of the talented artists and craftspeople who created them, but of the culture, priorities, and daily lives of the people who used them. Among the most exquisite of this class of objects is the étui,-nécessaire, a type of small case containing miniature implements used to complete a variety of everyday tasks. 

An agate and gold etui set with diamonds and an emerald, English, ca. 1710.
Includes scissors, bodkin, fruit knife and combination pen and pencil.
From the Victoria and Albert Museum Collections.

For more than 300 years preceding WWI, the étui in evolving forms was commonly used throughout Europe and later in North America. Tools for women might include scissors, needles, pencils, ivory writing leaves and small knives. The étui could be designed to be displayed on a desk, or carried in a pocket or purse. 

A desktop necessaire, of agate and gold, English, 1766.
Includes 5 bottles, pencil, ivory tablet, scissors, mirror, comb, brush, toothpick, tongue scraper, bodkin,
ear wax spoon, and a combination file and tweezers.
From the V&A Collections.

It  was also common for a lady to wear her étui suspended from a chatelaine, a decorative belt hook worn at the waist. Her snuff box and watch would be suspended from separate chains on the chatelaine.  Men carried étuis, but for them, the slightly larger case might include a watch, keys and a seal. For both men and women, these miniature tool kits are usually made with precious materials, are richly ornamented and often whimsical, as befitting such personal pieces. 

A shagreen etui with steel tools, 18th C French.
Includes a compass, corkscrew, spoon, tweezers, scissors, and an ivory aide memoir.
Image courtesy of David Stanley Auctions.

I suppose one could argue that today's technologically elegant smart phones with all of their built-in tools are the modern version of the old étui. Just like their antique predecessors, these modern tools tell a story about our culture's priorities and our daily lives. Although I enjoy my iPhone as much as the next person, I'm not sure that I am as charmed by the new story as much as the old!

A tiny étui encased in a walnut with silver metal fittings.
Includes scissors, thimble, needle, pin case, and stiletto.
Image courtesy of Richard Gardner Antiques.

Antique Crystal Paperweights

An antique Clichy paperweight, courtesy of the L.H. Selman Gallery of Fine Glass Paperweights.

Today I thought I'd share a grouping of beautiful crystal millefiori paperweights with you all. Any of these would make a lovely addition to your well-appointed desk as they are both functional and as aesthetically pleasing as a bowl of candy. Crystal paperweights are certainly not  uncommon, having been continuously popular with collectors for the past hundred and seventy years or so. Still, these objects are often overlooked, despite the exquisite craftsmanship required to create them. 

A Baccarat paperweight, with the signature "B" mark and 1848 date just visible on the lower half.
From 1stDibs.com

Thankfully, many collectors have come along, not only preserving pieces, but contributing to the scholarship surrounding them. Morton D. Barker (1888-1967) was such a man.  An avid collector of antique French paperweights, over a lifetime, he amassed an impressive collection that is now part of the permanent collection at the Illinois State Museum. The text that follows was written by Morton Barker, courtesy of the Illinois State Museum. 

A Baccarat paperweight featuring a coiled snake, from the Morton D. Barker Collection.
Courtesy of the Illinois State Museum  

"In early nineteenth-century Europe, a new creative potential developed in the decorative arts. An increasingly urban population and an expanding market of goods created by the Industrial Revolution stimulated the manufacture of many new decorative novelties. In the mid-1840s, glass paperweights appeared. They were a wholly modern, functional glass form that drew upon the ancient glassmaking techniques of millefiori and lampwork and the late-eighteenth century technique of cameo incrustation. The sudden emergence and popularity of paperweights can be attributed not only to their decorative appeal but also to a growing Victorian leisure-time interest in letter writing. This fashionable upper and middle class pastime assured their profitable manufacture along with many other glass accessories related to letter writing, all of which were purchased inexpensively at stationery and novelty shops.

A Baccarat lampwork pansy paperweight, from Wiki Commons

The exact year and origin of the manufacture of the first glass paperweight is problematical, but the first documented appearance can be traced to the Exhibition of Austrian Industry held in Vienna in 1845. The paperweights of Pietro Bigaglia of Venice were displayed at this exhibition. Knowledge of their existence was reportedly soon brought to the attention of the Saint-Louis glass factory in France, which immediately began to manufacture its own weights. A paperweight from Saint Louis dated 1845 is known, as well as one from Murano, Italy. A second major French glasshouse, the Clichy factory, is also thought to have been manufacturing weights as early as 1845. A close concentric millefiori pedestal weight in the Barker collection is the earliest-dated known weight produced by the Clichy factory. 

"An extremely rare and important antique
Clichy pedestal paperweight, originally the property of King Farouk of Egypt, whose
collection was sold at Sotheby’ at the Koubbeh Palace, Cairo, Egypt, March 1954."
Courtesy: auctionpublicity.comhttp://www.auctionpublicity.com

The entry of a third leading French glasshouse, the Baccarat factory, into paperweightmaking is marked by existing weights enclosing the date 1846. Factories in Bohemia and England followed suit with the earliest-dated known weights from each locale inscribed "1848." In the decade or so following 1845, the three great French glasshouses of Saint Louis, Clichy, and Baccarat competed with one another in the manufacture of the most beautiful and the best executed weights. The results were a myriad of artistically conceived millefiori designs and lampworked motifs, near technical perfection of the glassmaker's skill, and great quantities of weights produced.

An antique Baccarat Scattered millefiori on muslin signed and with canes depicting a deer,
elephant, dog, devil, cockrel, flower, horse, dog, deer and central butterfly cane, 1848.
Courtesy, The Stone Gallery.

This period of competitive manufacture, which captures paperweightmaking at its best, had come to be termed the Classic Period of French paperweights. It ranged in date from circa 1845 to 1855, although the time span is arbitrary and may extend slightly earlier or later (possibly through 1860) than the given decade. Perhaps the most highly praised paperweights of the French Classic Period are those produced by the Clichy factory. Clichy was the only French glasshouse whose weights were displayed at the Great Exposition at the Crystal Palace in London in 1851, and again, at the New York Crystal Palace in 1853. These public celebrations of the union of science and art in technology brought paperweights to the attention of the world. They were viewed by thousands of visitors, including a large American audience, and served to usher in the American Classic Period of paperweightmaking, which extended from 1852 through the 1870s, long after the popularity of paperweights had declined in Europe." 

If you'd like to see a Baccarat crystal paperweight being made, I've included this short but fascinating video. Enjoy!

Ming Polychrome Porcelains

A Ming polychrome jar, Jiajing mark and period, 1522-1566
Copyright Parvum Opus.

As part of the series of paintings for our Parvum Opus 2013 desk calendar, I chose to paint a portrait of this stunning Ming jar for the month of May. It was irresistible with those charming fish swimming around the perimeter, and the vibrant range of colors. Given the beautiful fish, a cheerful bunch of sunflowers seemed just the thing. This piece, nearly 500 years old, was created during the reign of the Jiajing Emperor, the 11th of the Ming Dynasty. Although his era name means "admirable tranquility," Wikipedia describes him as a ruthless leader whose neglect of his official duties led to the dynasty's decline. 

The Jiajing emperor aboard his state barge, from a scroll by an
unknown Ming artist, ca. 1538. Via Wikipedia.

I came across this very short but informative article about the history of multi-colored Chinese porcelains while visiting the British Museum website, a favorite online haunt. Courtesy of the British Museum: "The term 'overglaze enamels' is used to describe enamel decoration on the surface of a glaze which has already been fired. Once painted, the piece would be fired a second time, usually at a lower temperature. The first use of overglaze enamelling is found on the slip-covered wares of northern China. This was an innovation of the Jin dynasty (1115-1234), with documented pieces as early as 1201. These were utilitarian wares, not for imperial use. Under the emperors of the Ming (1368-1644) and the Qing (1644-1911) dynasty, the various techniques of overglaze enamelling reached their heights at the manufacturing centre in Jingdezhen.

Cizhou ware ceramic pillow, late 11th early 12th century.
Courtesy of the British Museum.

The article continues: "The most highly prized technique is known as doucai ('joined' or 'contrasted' colours), first produced under the Ming emperor Xuande (1426-35), but more usually associated with Chenghua (1465-87). Cobalt was used under the glaze to paint the outlines and areas of blue wash needed in the design. The piece was then glazed and fired at a high temperature. Overglaze colours were painted on to fill in the design. The piece was then fired again at a lower temperature.

From the British Museum: a Doucai Jar, 1465-87, Chenghua period

Lastly, the British Museum article describes the piece in my illustration:"Wucai wares, meaning 'five colours', were also developed in the Ming dynasty. A full palette of polychrome enamels or mixed colours is used. These pieces tend to be larger than doucai wares, with stronger colours, more intricate designs, and very little white showing. The best-known wucai wares are from the reign of Wanli (1573-1620). There were also important developments under the Qing dynasty. Famille rose (pink), jaune (yellow),noire (black) and verte (green) were overglaze enamel-decorated porcelains made from the Kangxi period (1662-1722) and later."

Very similar to the jar in my calendar illustration, this piece is
also Jiajing period. Courtesy of the British Museum.

I hope you'll agree that the development of this art form, with artisans' experimentation spread over a millennium, never ceases to amaze. 

New at the Bindery: Handmade Accordion Files

One of our new small accordion files made with Japanese Chiyogami paper covers.
Click here to see more details at the P.O. online shop.
Copyright Parvum Opus, LLC

It's been a cheerfully busy winter at the bindery, and I thought I'd share some of the new projects we've been working on for our clientele in whom we find continuing inspiration. Our new handmade accordion files have proven to be quite popular with wedding/event planners, interior designers and artistic people who want every detail of their home and office to be both functional and special. 

A small 12-pocket accordion file with marbled paper covers and 2-tone geranium pockets.Click here to see more details at the P.O. online shop.
Copyright Parvum Opus, LLC

The files shown below measure 9.5" x 7" (medium) and 4.5" x 6.5" (small), with larger files also available. Since adding these colorful and useful pieces to our permanent repertoire, we have been pleasantly surprised by the positive response.

Small and medium 6- and 12-pocket accordion files in cheerful colors.Click here to see more details at the P.O. online shop.
Copyright Parvum Opus, LLC

Like everything we do, our files are made to order using all archival materials, so they're perfect for storing everything from bills, take away menus and receipts to precious photographs or love letters. To label the file pockets, we suggest "Post-it Durable File Tabs," which are easily removable. At the bindery, we stock a palette of twelve beautiful papers from Japan, France and Italy which we use for the file covers as shown here. 

A medium 6-pocket file with lovely turquoise Florentine paper covers.
Click here to see more details at the P.O. online shop.
Copyright Parvum Opus, LLC

Accordion files can be made in most any custom size, with pockets in a rainbow of colors. I have to say, it's such fun to make the individual pockets in alternating colors, gather them up into an accordion, and finally see them fanned out in all their 'springy' glory. We thoroughly  enjoy working with these exquisite materials, and just seeing their lovely colors assures me that spring is definitely on the way.

A medium 12-pocket file with fresh green and ivory Florentine paper.
Click here to see more details at the P.O. online shop.
Copyright Parvum Opus, LLC