A Collection of Antique Islamic Pottery

Our May 2014 calendar illustration: an Iranian fritware beaker, 
from the 12th-13th centuries. Image copyright Parvum Opus. 

When I was searching for subjects to paint for our 2014 calendar, I came across the beautiful beaker you see above in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. I was instantly drawn to the colors and imagery in this ancient piece, although I had no knowledge of this category of objects. It's one of the things I love most about creating our calendar: a piece will catch my eye, and then, wonderfully, lead me down a path of investigation and discovery that I may have missed otherwise! 

An Iranian fritware bowl with a horseman, female figures, 

and pseudo-kufic inscription, late 12th-early 13th centuries.

Image courtesy the Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford.

This class of pottery is referred to as Islamic stonepaste or fritware, among other names. According to Wikipedia, "frit is a ceramic composition that has been fused in a special fusing oven, quenched to form a glass, and granulated." Islamic pottery of this period incorporated frit with the clay to produce a mixture that could be fired at a lower temperature than pure clay. Interestingly, a 'how-to' book on this specialized form of pottery survives. It was written in about the year 1300 by Abu'l Qasim bin Ali bin Muhammed bin Abu Tahir. Abu'l Qasim was member of an important family of potters as well as a historian to the Mongol court. His recipes for fritware and lusterware are part of a larger work entitled The Virtues of Jewels and the Delicacies of Perfume. 

An Iranian fritware ewer, ca. 11th-13th centuries.
Image courtesy The Louvre.

I came across a scholarly translation of this work by J. W. Allan, and found myself marveling at these words, written so long ago. Below is an intriguing excerpt, could it perhaps be the recipe used by the potters to create our beautiful beaker?? 

An Iranian bowl, similar to our inspirational beaker, with a horseman, 

female figures, and pseudo-kufic inscription. 

Image courtesy the Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford

"§25. The vessels are then coated with a glaze frit which has been ground up, finely sifted, and dissolved in water, and are stood on top of a broad-meshed sieve, which is the lid of a trough, so that excess of colour drips away. They are dried in the sun. If they want a green ground they coat on a mixture of ten parts powdered glaze to a quarter of a part of [a mithqal of] roasted copper. The craftsmen call this tini. It comes out of the firing transparent green, like green glass. If they use one part of [brayed] lajvard to forty parts of glaze frit it becomes transparent blue like a sapphire. If for every ten [or: two] parts of glaze frit they add 1 part of maghnisiya it comes out black as shabeh, and if they add less it comes out a red the colour of an eggplant. If they want an opaque colour such as turquoise they add for every man of ground tin ten dirhams of ground roasted cooper [sic: copper?], and coat this on. If they want lajvard colour they add [to the glaze frit] ten dirhams of Sulaimani lajvard and daub and coat the vessels with that. If they want a greyer tone they put in less lajvard and add a small amount of red sirinj. If they use an absolutely plain colour the vessels come out of the heat white."

A Persian pottery vase , ca. 17th-18th centuries.
Image courtesy Kaminski Auctioneers.

"§27. Those that come out of the firing white they paint with the enamel of two firings, or with lajvard, or with pure turquoise. [Or they are translucent and require no enamel painting.] The enamel is composed as follows: Take one and a half mans [or: parts] of red and yellow arsenic, one man [or: part] of gold and silver marcasite, one batman [or: half a part] of Tisi [or: Tabasi or Cypriot] yellow vitriol and a quarter [of a part] of roasted copper, and mix it to a paste and grind it. A quarter of this is mixed with six dirhams of pure silver which has been burned and ground [with sulphur] and is ground on a stone for twenty-four hours until it is extremely fine. Dissolve this in some grape juice or vinegar and paint it onto the vessels as desired, and place them in a second kiln specially made for this purpose, and give them light smoke for seventy-two hours until they acquire the colour of two firings [which is like gold]. When they are cold take them out and rub them with damp earth so that the colour of gold comes out. Other people add certain preparations like sirinj and zanjar to this enamel. In fact, shadanaj stone with roasted silver serves the same purpose. That which has been evenly fired reflects like red gold and shines like the light of the sun."

How wonderfully descriptive! One can find poetry and beauty in the most unexpected places, even an old 'recipe' book.

Bridge, anyone?

The new Bridge Set by Parvum Opus... Designed with the 
encouragement of some of our very knowledgeable and 
enthusiastic bridge-playing clients. 

After a hectic holiday season, spring brings a host of new projects and the bindery is buzzing with activity. Along with a new range of desk pads, desk organizers and and gift boxes, we've created two new game sets: a bridge set, shown above, and a playing card set, below. 

Our playing card set features ribbon-tabbed card lifts 
for easy card removal- an elegant solution, don't you think?

While playing card game sets may seem to be a bit of a non sequitur for a bindery specializing in desk accessories, the design and development process has been quite familiar for us. We had several requests for bridge sets before the holidays, but only now have had the time to design all of the necessary elements. As it turns out, the skills we've until now put toward the production of our archival boxes and desk organizers have come in handy in designing these intricate boxes. 

Refillable bridge scoring tablets, made by hand and available
'a la carte' as a set of four. Making these is like making 
tiny desk blotters-- such fun! 

It was a wonderful collaboration with our clients as we elevated every detail of our bridge and card sets-- as my personal experience with cards is limited (!), their guidance was invaluable. Parvum Opus game sets are made to order in an array of beautiful papers from around the world. We hope that they make bridge and poker night even more enjoyable for our clients, just as our desk accessories make their work spaces more enjoyable.    

Our Bridge Set and Playing Card Set. For more details,
we invite you to visit www.parvumopus.com.

A Beautiful Tartanware Book: Sir Walter Scott's Lady of the Lake

One of my favorite things: Sir Walter Scott's Lady of the Lake,
published in 1874 by John Ross and Company, Edinburgh.
Images copyright Parvum Opus.

I've had a deep appreciation for exquisitely made objects for as long as I can remember, and among my favorites are books, which I treasure for both the craft and beauty of their bindings as well as the beauty of the ideas within. My Tartanware copy of Sir Walter Scott's Lady of the Lake is a particularly special example.

As you can see, it features a tooled and gilded leather spine, and papier-mâché Tartanware covers. Throughout the pages, small photographs are pasted in, with lovely views of Scottish lochs and castles. When I first received this wonderful gift (thank you dear husband!), I was especially charmed by tiny mother of pearl bun feet on the back of the book. What a jewel! Given that this book's publication made Scotland's Trossachs an enduring tourist destination, it makes perfect sense that a Tartanware edition would appear.

If you look closely, you can see the tiny mother of pearl feet
attached with brass tacks.

Tartanware was designed primarily as souvenir ware, and originated in the early part of the nineteenth century. These small personal goods (boxes, sewing tools, desk accessories, books, etc.)were designed to capitalize on the newly mobile middle class tourist population. You can imagine how popularity of these trinkets soared with Queen Victoria's commission of two new Tartans for the royal family. 

I wish this box was in my collection: a miniature Robertson Tartanware box,
with a hand-painted picture of Balmoral before
Prince Albert made his additions, signed "Lamme Cumnock", c. 1850.
Image courtesy The Telegraph.

The Lady of the Lake is a narrative poem composed of six cantos, and was first published in 1810. It was hugely influential at the time and contributed to the Highland Revival, which culminated in 1822 with a visit by King George IV to Edinburgh for a pageant orchestrated by a vary patriotic Sir Walter Scott. I'm so glad for this confluence of poetry and craft, and that we can still enjoy the lovely books and objects born of it.

A portrait bust of Sir Walter Scott,
in the University of North Carolina collection.
Image courtesy UNC.

A New Companion for My Desk

My new treasure: an antique papier-mâché snuff box.

Recently, I was the very lucky recipient of a particularly beautiful papier-mâché snuff box. It's in wonderful condition and features a lovely painting of a lady on the hinged lid. This box sits on my desk, and is perfectly sized for stamps and address labels. 

It's such a tiny thing, only about 1.5" wide and 3" tall, but the romance of it looms large in my imagination. Consider it's interesting origins: it was made generations ago, by a craftsperson most likely from Birmingham, England. Perhaps a second artist in the same workshop painted the tiny portrait onto this perfectly formed box made from nothing but paper pulp hardened with enamel. Perhaps it was a special commission for a local gentleman who would have carried it in his pocket, containing a day's worth of snuff. I can't imagine how many owners this box has known in its 150+ years, but I'm thrilled to be the most recent! 

A view of my new acquisition along with another
papier-mâché box from my collection. 

Taking snuff is an odd habit, isn't it? I gather from my reading that the custom travelled from the new world to Europe with Christopher Columbus whose crew members witnessed it being used by the Taino in Haiti. Tobacco use, not surprisingly, spread quickly through Europe, and by the later 17th century, air-tight boxes made from precious materials were being crafted. There were larger examples for communal use at the table (still present in the House of Lords and US Senate), and more precious small pocket-sized versions for personal use. 

A shell-form snuff box, Capo di Monte, ca. 1750. 
Soft-paste porcelain with French silver-gilt mounts.
Image courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum Collections.

If you take a moment to browse through the snuff boxes held in collections like that of the V & A Museum, you can see from the variety and quantity that there must be something in human nature that is fascinated with tiny boxes. Snuff boxes were exchanged and presented as gifts long after the snuffing craze waned, and are voraciously collected today. I can imagine that the precious scale, multi-purpose box format and the object's inherent intimate nature inspired both the artisans and prospective collectors. The snuff itself, however, is definitely not my cup of tea!

I couldn't resist sharing this curiosity: 1894 Kinetoscope of Fred Ott taking a snuff and then sneezing, taken by Thomas Edison's laboratory. Courtesy Wikipedia

For the Love of "Useless" Art

A detail of an 18th century French porcelain vase from the Sèvres Manufactory, designed by Jean-Claude Chambellan Duplessis (1699 — 1774) and featured in Luke Syson's January 2014 TED talk. Image courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Those of us who love and collect decorative arts objects know that simply seeing and engaging with them can bring a great deal of satisfaction into our daily lives. But what draws us into certain classes of objects and repels us from others? How do we define quality and beauty in a time in which simplicity and elegance are the rule?

Today I'd like to share a brilliant TED talk given by Luke Syson, the Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Curator in Charge of the Department of European Sculpture and Decorative Arts at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. He takes us along on a (hilarious) journey from repulsion, to familiarity, to acceptance, and finally to admiration of the Sèvres vase you see above. Most interesting to me was his thesis that in our Modernist culture, fancy or imagination has been sequestered into our screen lives while everyday objects have become more and more unremarkable, leaving little space for "useless" objects in modern life. 

There is much to think about here, but I hope most of all that you'll be lucky enough to find yourselves on a journey similar to Luke Syson's, with a fancy pink elephant of your own opening the door to the appreciation of another...and another... 

Happy New Year!

A set of stacking desk organizer trays and matching pencil holder
in Turquoise Florentine paper.

Warm New Year wishes from Parvum Opus! It's been much too long since I've treated myself to the pleasant task of posting here to share the latest news from the bindery. It's been a cheerfully chaotic couple of months at Parvum Opus, with new projects, new tools, new bindery assistants, and a new online shop.

A desk blotter and pencil holder in hand-marbled paper made in France.

With so much going on in the bindery, I thought it might be nice to begin this year's posts by sharing some recent projects with you today. All of the materials you see in these designs were chosen by our wonderful clientele. Often it happens that we source materials for a bespoke project and end up so smitten by a color or pattern that we add it to our permanent collection. 

A pair of accordion files for one of our favorite clients...
made with Florentine papers.

And a desk set in Aqua Japanese paper for another dear client.

Each year we add to our palette of papers and book cloth colors, and it's great fun for us to see how cleverly clients combine them. 

The latest in paper options at the bindery.

 

Our beautiful Italian book cloth range.

No detail is too small! Inspired by the great designer Roger Banks-Pye
and the desire to use every scrap of gorgeous paper, we've added
these playful matchboxes to our range of products.  

At this moment, our bindery's book presses are full of more projects that I will be happy to share very soon. I'm very grateful to have had the privilege of working on interesting projects with so many charming and creative people from all over North America and the UK last year, and we're looking forward to continuing our fulfilling work this year. I hope that 2014 brings health, friendship and joy for all of you.  

A Collection of Silver-Gilt Mounted Porcelains

The glorious Howzer Cup, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, consists of a Chinese brush pot, ca. 1630-50, mounted in England, ca. 1660-70, probably by the Swiss goldsmith Wolfgang Howzer. I especially love the hounds on the lid and handles. Image courtesy the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Today, with the help of the venerable V & A Museum Collection, I have assembled for you a collection of beautiful Chinese and Japanese porcelains, all featuring silver gilt mounts. Just imagine how exotic these porcelains would have seemed to 16th century Europeans. Asian porcelain pieces decorated with underglaze blue began to arrive in England in the 1560s, amid great speculation as to the nature of the mysterious material. Some people speculated that it was a precious stone, or perhaps made from crushed sea shells. Understandably, the owners of such high-status objects went to great trouble to enhance the value of their porcelains even more by commissioning elaborate silver-gilt mounts for them. I suppose when we take great care in framing an important painting, we continue this tradition in some small way. 

A Japanese Imari cup, mounted in France ca. 1720. This is the watercolor illustration I did for September, from our 2013 desk calendar. From the Victoria and Albert Museum Collection.

Asian porcelains were also enormously popular in France. When Siamese ambassadors visited Versailles in 1686, King Louis XVI himself received the delegation, and fueled a fever for all things Asian, bringing porcelains like the Japanese Imari piece above to the height of fashion. 

A Chinese ewer, ca. 1560-86 with later English silver-gilt mounts.
Image courtesy the V & A Museum.

Asian porcelain was so sought after in Europe, that objects of lesser quality, like the one above, were treated to the same gilt-mounting treatment as finer pieces. Porcelains like this ewer were made in large quantities in the southern city of Jingdezhen for local use and export alike. In 1557, according to the V & A, the Portuguese began to deal in porcelain in Macau, and although the vast majority of pieces went to Lisbon, the English pirates did what they could to increase the flow of these objects to England. The ewer may be rustic, but it still has a certain charm, don't you think?

The Trenchard bowl, Chinese porcelain
painted in underglaze blue, with English silver-gilt mounts.
Image courtesy the V & A Museum.

The Trenchard bowl, shown above, was featured in our 2011 calendar, and has an interesting history. From the V & A: "By tradition this bowl was a gift from Philip the Fair, Duke of Burgundy (1478-1506) and his wife Joanna 'the Mad' to Sir Thomas Trenchard of Wolverton, Dorset, in gratitude for his hospitality after their ship was wrecked off Weymouth in 1506. In fact, we can tell from the date of the mounts and of the porcelain that it reached England much later, during Elizabeth I's reign (1558-1603), probably as part of a load of porcelain seized from a Spanish ship." 

A Chinese porcelain cup, ca. 1573-85, with later English mounts, marked 1585.
Image courtesy the V & A Museum.

Having trained as a metalsmith, I'm amazed by the ingenious buckle-like mechanisms used to attach these fanciful metal armatures to the delicate porcelains. Like the exotic natural crystals, coconut shells and sea shells that were similarly "enhanced", these pieces of porcelain would certainly have made impressive additions to cabinets of curiosities. Wouldn't it have been wonderful to have been there to see them?!