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Word of the Week: Cartouche

December 2, 2013 in Word of the Week by hdavis

An American sterling silver reticulated trumpet vase, Dominick & Haff, New York, 1898

The decorative arts world has many “squishy” and vague vocabulary words, but few are “squishier” and vaguer than cartouche. Originally, the term comes from Egyptology and is used to describe a oval enclosing hieroglyphics and having a horizontal line at one end. (The line denotes royalty.) The oval had significance not unlike that of a closed circle, in that it was believed that an oval around a person’s name provided protection to that person. The strong association with the god-like royalty of ancient Egypt and the “good luck charm” nature of the symbol meant that it was eventually co-opted by the rest of the population and, as a result, it appears on all manner of structures and objects from the era.

Centuries later, when Egypt was a land divided constantly by conflicts, soldiers, seeing these ovals everywhere, are said to have found them to resemble the paper cartridges used in muskets. (You can see a Civil War-era example here.) The French word for cartridge is cartouche and thus it became, in its original use, the term applied to this particular hieroglyphic element.

Before long, however, the word cartouche began to be applied to any “ornamental enframement” as the Getty’s Art and Architecture Thesaurus puts it. That resource defines the term as being used to denote a space for “an inscription, monogram, or coat of arms, or ornately framed tablets, often bearing inscriptions,” and cartouche is often applied in this sense for the ornamentation surrounding a monogram or inscription on a piece of silver. The piece pictured above has a classic example of a “blank cartouche.”

While to most people the most accurate definition continues to apply only to this ornamental frame around an open space, it is also often used for objects like oval mirrors, which might be described as cartouche form if they have a heavily ornamented and decorated oval frame. In its most diluted “area of ornamentation” usage however, cartouche has also become the term for the central decorative ornamental element at the top of forms like a desk-and-bookcase or a high chest, whether they are oval in shape or not.

A Santa by Any Other Name: Belsnickles, Santas, and Holiday Ornaments

November 27, 2013 in Holiday & Patriotic by hdavis

A Santa Claus Belsnickle figure of exceptionally rare form, likely made in Pennsylvania in the 1870sAs small children, most of us were likely threatened with lumps of coal or switches in our stockings,  but for the most part, modern-day Christmas celebrations focus far more on the nice than on the naughty.  This wasn’t always the case, and our jovial 20th-century Saint Nick and his comical elfin sidekicks have their roots in a much darker image: the ancient Germanic Christmas figure of Pelzsnickel, literally “furry Nicholas.”  The character of Pelznickel, known throughout Europe, followed the Germans across the Atlantic to Pennsylvania where he became Belsnickel or Belsnickle.  Crossing cultural lines, Pelznickel morphed into a variety of characters ranging from a dark, frightening whip-carrying figure in ghoulish costume to a gentle fur-clad woodsman dispensing toys and justice.  Somewhere along the line, however, he became “our” Santa and “belsnickle” became the word for a traditional Santa ornament.

Belsnickles, for the most part, are surprisingly uniform. Aside from the colorful character pictured here, who is saddled with toys and the accoutrements one might need when tramping through the woods on a snowy evening and whose uniqueness is reflected in his $25,000 price, most belsnickles take the standard form of a somber, robed Saint Nick. Occasionally, he is holding a small Christmas tree, but otherwise, the only thing that varies is the color of his robe. Not to worry, though, because his robe comes in a rainbow of colors from the traditional red or white to orange, yellow, blue, and even pink! Value is, as always, determined by condition but also by the rarity of the color of Santa’s robes. Nice or naughty, any Christmas collector can appreciate these colorful characters!

Word of the Week: Catafalque

November 25, 2013 in Miscellaneous Antiques by hdavis

French patinated bronze funerary monument of the Emperor Napoleon ICatafalque comes from the Italian word catafalco, which means scaffolding.  It is the term used for a bier or platform that supports a coffin, and catafalques are often, although not always, moveable.  In the image here, Napoleon’s body rests on the catafalque in the lower left of the image. The slant-sided base or table which supports his body is the catafalque.

In the United States, the most iconic example of a catafalque is the Lincoln Catafalque, which was created for Lincoln’s funeral in 1865.  This pine platform covered with black cloth remains in the Exhibition Hall at the U.S. Capitol’s visitor center, but has been called into service regularly (with new cloth and some additional supports) since 1865 for all those who have lain in state in the Capitol Rotunda.  Lincoln’s funeral train traveled back to Springfield, Illinois, stopping at a number of cities along the way, so many catafalques were no doubt built for the ceremonies held in those cities, but the one in Washington is the one created for his funeral service there.

Beyond the Blue: Frederick Maxfield Parrish (1870-1966)

November 20, 2013 in Fine Art by hdavis

An oil on board [landscape painting], The Blue Fountain (Study for Reveries), by Maxfield Parrish, American (1870 to 1966), executed circa 1925Frederick Maxfield Parrish was born July 25, 1870 in Philadelphia to Stephen Parrish, an American artist famous for his landscapes, illustrations and engravings and his wife Elizabeth Bancroft Parrish.  It’s not surprising that, finding himself surrounded by the tools of his father’s trade, that Frederick (he would begin to use Maxfield as his name later in life) would begin to draw to amuse himself.  Around 1881, the Parrish family traveled to Europe, and during the trip, Frederick contracted typhoid.  It was during his recuperation that he turned his attention to art in earnest under his father’s tutelage.

Maxfield studied widely as a young man, abroad in England and France, and at home at Haverford College, the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and at the Drexel Institute, where he had the opportunity to work with Howard Pyle, one of the greatest illustrators in American history.  While at the Drexel Institute, he also met Lydia Austin, a young instructor, who he would marry in 1895.  Parrish himself found work as an illustrator, working in Philadelphia until 1898, by which time his various magazine illustrations for publications and his burgeoning career as the illustrator, especially of children’s books (for authors such as L. Frank Baum and Kenneth Grahame), allowed the young couple to purchase a home, The Oaks, near his parents in New Hampshire.

It was around this time that Parrish developed tuberculosis, and coupled with the damages done to his health by the typhoid he suffered as a youth, Maxfield and Lydia found it necessary to seek out other climates,  spending time in the Adirondacks, Arizona, and Italy.  (The dry, vibrant landscape of Arizona has often been said to be a key influence for Parrish’s distinctive style and vibrant hues.)  Eventually, though, they found themselves resettled in New Hampshire, where their lives would take a very different turn, after they hired a 16-year old girl named Susan Lewin.

Susan was initially hired to assist Lydia Parrish with the care of the Parrish children.  (Perhaps due to Maxfield’s health concerns, the Parrishes waited until relatively late in life, for the time, to have children, with Lydia being almost 40 when their youngest child was born.)  Susan quickly became Maxfield’s model and assistant, and eventually, they began an affair.  Estranged from Lydia, who continued to live in the main house on the property, Maxfield ultimately moved into his studio where he lived with Susan.

Susan certainly must have served as a muse, because Parrish’s popularity skyrocketed in the years between 1905 and 1920.  His art was in demand by publishers (he did dozens of covers for Collier’s) and advertisers from Colgate to Oneida, and he also had murals commissioned by wealthy patrons like Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney.  Another mural, created in the Tiffany studio, incorporated 100,000 pieces of Tiffany glass, and drew the attention of Cyrus Curtis, the owner of the Saturday Evening Post, who commissioned a mural for the Post’s Philadelphia headquarters.  (Many of Parrish’s murals still decorated the public spaces they were designed for, and visitors can see them in places as varied as the Curtis Building in Philadelphia and the St. Regis’s bar in New York.)

Success allowed him to shift his focus away from advertising by the mid-1920s.  (He was so well-known that by 1925, it was estimated that 25% of the homes in America owned a Parrish print and the deep lapis lazuli blue he favored had become known as “Parrish blue,” hints of which are visible in the image above.)  Parrish chose to move toward painting works of art that reflected, in some ways, his first job as an illustrator, and in many ways, this is the era of work for which Parrish is best remembered, androgynous, mystical figures in fantasy landscapes.  By 1931, he announced that he was changing directions yet again, concentrating this time on landscapes.

In 1953, Lydia, who had for the most part left Maxfield in 1911, died, and he was left alone with Susan.  Susan, perhaps frustrated by Maxfield’s lack of interest in marrying her after so many years together, left to marry someone else in 1960, and it was at that point that Maxfield Parrish stopped painting at the age of 90.  He remained at The Oaks in Plainfield, New Hampshire until his death at 95 on March 30, 1966.

Word of the Week: Baleen

November 18, 2013 in Word of the Week by hdavis

Baleen basket by Sheldon Bogenrife (Inuit, 20th-21st century), finely woven basket topped with a delicately carved [ivory] seal finialBaleen comes from a suborder of whales, Mysticeti, which includes, among others, humpback whales, gray whales, right whales and blue whales.  What sets these whales apart is baleen.  These whales do not have teeth, but have upper jaws filled with two rows of baleen plates fringed with fine baleen hair.  These plates are so closely aligned that they act like a comb or a sieve; whales pull water across them, catching the small plankton they feed on in the baleen ‘hairs’.  Baleen varies widely in size, as the sizes of the whales it comes from vary.  The individual plates can be as small as 2 feet, but as large as 12 feet long!  A single plate can weigh 200 pounds.  Baleen is often called whalebone, which is a bit of a misnomer.  Baleen is not bone, but rather keratin, the same protein that forms hair and fingernails in humans as well as horns and claws in animals.

Archaeology suggests that hunting whales was crucial to the Inuit way of life as early as 1000 A.D.  In a landscape that offers so few materials, every part of a whale was used, including baleen.  Because of the lack of wood for fires for boiling water, baleen was softened by soaking it in urine.  Baleen had another property that made it valuable in the Arctic environment: it doesn’t not frost.  As a result, it was deemed useful for all sorts of utilitarian purposes, such as fishing lines and sled runners.

Europe was slower to realize all the potential uses of baleen, but as early as the 15th century, baleen, not whale oil, was driving the whaling industry.  Baleen was scraped to remove the fine hairs, and then boiled to soften it.  It could be softened to the point that it could be bent, molded and even stretched.  In this soft state, it was also possible to add dyes, most commonly black.  Baleen created items like riding crops and umbrella ribs and smaller bits of it were used to form cane heads and ladle handles.  (Baleen doesn’t conduct heat like metal either, so it made great handles and grips for objects that heated up.)  It was even used to bind violin bows and sword hilts.  Virtually every part of the whale was used, even the smallest fringe hairs on the baleen, which were used to stuff upholstery.

Baleen’s price was closely linked to the fashion trends of England and Europe, being used for busks, pieces of a rigid material slipped into pockets in the front of a corset to keep it straight and upright.  As small decorative objects that could be carved and were placed in a hidden place near the heart, busks were common sweetheart gifts, often beautifully decorated with delicate carvings.  Baleen’s flexibility and durability also made it perfect for forming the hoops in hoop skirts.  Baleen’s price was roughly at its highest when hoop skirts were at their widest.

As the whaling industry declined and better, cheaper plastics were developed, the use of baleen faded.  After the last quarter of the 19th century, most baleen appears in small souvenir objects from the Inuit and Yupik cultures of the Arctic.  As tourism in the region open up, handcrafts helped support the people who lived in these harsh regions.  Carving had long been a tradition, and baleen objects occasionally appear, but more often, baleen was used to inlay ivory carvings.  Basket weaving was also introduced, using small strips of baleen, and many finely woven baskets with carved ivory finials survive today.

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