Winfield Scott rare lithopane (or lithophane) portrait with original cast metal display standLithophane comes from two Greek words: lithos, meaning stone and phainein, which has a more shaded meaning that is close to making something appear quickly. The term refers to an image or scene that is etched or molded into very thin porcelain, so that the intaglio image “pops” when light is placed behind the porcelain. This makes lithophanes three-dimensional, unlike the two-dimensional works of art (prints, photographs, etc.) from which they are often derived.

The technique appeared in Europe in the 1820s and spread quickly until they were being made almost everywhere, with the largest porcelain firms like Wedgwood and Belleek cranking them out in enormous numbers. A carver would take warm wax on a sheet of glass and, with the aid of a backlight, carve a scene before handing it off to have a mold cast, which would then be used to create hundreds of castings that were fired. Because of their thinness (as little as one sixteenth of an inch), there was traditionally a fairly high failure rate (some say as high as 60%) for the porcelain castings in the kiln.

Lithophanes were used, naturally, with objects related to household lighting: night lights, fireplace screens, lamps, but they also were used very cleverly, sometimes for erotic scenes, sometimes in the bottoms of mugs and beer steins, so that as the stein was drained, a scene would appear in the bottom. Lithophanes often depict many of the same scenes that appear in print images: religious events, literary scenes, portraits, etc., with some memorializing historical or political events. They were even used architecturally. For example, Samuel Colt, the firearms magnate, installed dozens of lithophanes throughout his Hartford, Connecticut home.

The value of lithophanes has to do with a number of factors, including the traditional ones regarding condition (or the condition of the object in which they are contained) and the nature/rarity of the object in which they are housed. Steins, particularly the ones with or without lithophanes that are known as regimental steins because they were often given out by military regiments, show this pricing variation clearly. Steins that are just typical steins may only fetch around $100, but ones that have a military history (like the German one pictured here), are associated with rarer military units, have more extravagant decoration, etc., can fetch considerably more. They are also valued based on the scene depicted, with rarer and more unusual views commanding higher prices, and value can also be influenced by the fame of the manufacturer.

Feather Christmas tree on revolving musical stand

Feather Christmas tree on revolving musical stand

The tradition of bringing a tree into the home and decorating it was first criticized by the prophet Jeremiah.  Oliver Cromwell later preached again the “heathen tradition,” but of course, we know how things turned out for him….  Later, Christmas trees were criticized for different reasons – environmental ones!  It’s a little hard to imagine now, but in the early 20th century, railroads and other changes in industry had resulted in rapid deforestation, thereby opening the door for artificial trees.

The first artificial trees produced for the mass market were feather trees, and they are still very collectible.  Feather trees are just that – trees made of feathers.  Goose feathers, with one half stripped away, were dyed and then wound around small sticks or wires.  After being bound off with wire, these “branches” were fitted in holes drilled in a central wooden dowel that acted as the trunk.  They were mostly sold in white or shades of green, but were also available in more exotic colors like this blue one.  As they evolved, some came with small berries (that cleverly served the dual purpose of providing a solution to the tricky wrapping at the end of the branch), while smaller versions appear in the hands and packs of Santa figurines.  Fancy versions, like the one pictured above, often had musical rotating bases.  After that, the mass market machine kicked into drive, and aluminum, PVC and fiber optic trees couldn’t be far behind!

Originally published on December 4, 2009

Robert Southey (English, 1774 to 1843), Poetical Works, London: Longman, Orme, Brown, Green and Longmans, 1837-1838, compete in ten volumes, duodecimo, in blue half-leather with marbled boards and endpapersYou may not be able to judge a book by its cover, but you can at least tell its size, but to do that, you have to know a little bit about the printing process, which basically, at least when it comes to paper sizes, has two eras: the modern era and the hand press era. In the hand press era (pre-1820, for the most part), printing was done on large sheets, on both sides, and then the sheets were folded and stitched along the folds. (The spatial reasoning necessary to lay out a sheet’s worth of printing, knowing which way the text would appear and the pages would be ordered when folded, is impressive.) Each set of pages created from the same folded sheet was called a gathering and multiple gatherings would all be bound together to create the finished book. Sometimes the edges of the gathering were trimmed on the three exposed sides, but in early books, you might have to use a knife to slice through the folds of the gathering to separate each page yourself.

In this system of printing, page sizes were determined by how many times the original sheet was folded. A folio (2° or fo) would been folded once, down the center, and with two pages of text printed on either side, it would create four printed pages. This is designated as the “format” of the book. Quartos (4° or 4to) would be folded twice to produce four leaves/eight pages, octavos (8° or 8vo), three times for eight leaves/16 pages, etc., with the sizes continuing through duodecimo (twelvemo – 12° or 12vo), sextodecimo (sixteenmo – 16° or 16vo), octodecimo (eighteenmo – 18° or 18vo), trigesimo-secundo (thirty-twomo – 32° or 32vo), quadragesimo-octavo (forty-eightmo – 48° or 48vo) and sexagesimo-quarto (sixty-fourmo – 64° or 64vo).

One challenge with deciphering this is that in the hand press age in particular paper sizes were not typically standardized or, if they were, it was only within a particular region or country of manufacture. As a result, sizes of quartos, for example, can vary because while all quartos have gatherings that are folded twice, the size of the original sheet can vary. This means that quartos printed in Italy and quartos printed in England in the same time period can be different sizes.

In modern production, sizes are standardized and most books are quartos or octavos. There are designations for less typical sizes as well, which are heard more commonly in reference to prints than books: elephant folio, atlas folio and double elephant folio. As with all paper objects, condition is paramount, with size playing the largest role when it comes to prints but little role at all with books. In fact, most sellers do not give physical dimensions for books, as historically, much like today, books were not printed in multiple sizes at the same time and the other information: place of publication, year, etc., is more useful to collectors. Determining the rarity of books typically has more to do with when and where they were printed and what edition a volume is than the size, although of course, this does not necessarily apply when the books are out of the traditional size range. And books do not change sizes as prints can, so more on the specifics of paper sizes related to prints in our next post….

Hattie Klapp Brunner (American, 1889-1982) watercolor and gouache on paper painting, fall Amish auction scene, signed and dated '62 in lower left.

Gouache {sometimes referred to as body color and pronounced “gwash”) and watercolor paintings are often not clearly distinguished as being different, perhaps because making the distinction just based on a visual examination can be difficult, perhaps because both techniques are often used in the same work, but they are different in fundamental ways. They share the same binding agent but there is far more pigment in relation to water in gouache. Gouache, unlike watercolor paint, is opaque and sometimes to heighten the effect of this opacity, chalk or some other white pigment may be added. All the additional pigment and decreased water makes gouache much heavier – and they mean that gouache covers more quickly, dries more rapidly, and that it has to be used in more direct, less subtle ways than watercolor, as it does not offer the bleeding, shading, and layering abilities watercolor does.

Because of the solid, “flat” appearance of gouache when dried, it is very popular in designs like posters for commercial illustrations. Gouache is also used frequently in connection with watercolor, perhaps most notably in hand-drawn animation where gouache provides the solid, dramatic color needed for characters and watercolor allows for subtler, softer background elements.

While it is by no means a common medium, gouache offers certain advantages (en plein air artists tend to favor it because of the rapid drying) and it also was frequently used for studies for larger works. Matisse, Magritte and Klee are among the well-known artists who have worked in gouache, but it dates back centuries with forms of it documented in ancient Greece, in ancient Egypt and in the illuminated manuscripts of Europe. It has a role in a wide variety of painting styles and historical traditions.

 A Northwood, Carnival glass vaseline Heart & Flowers plateAs I’ve discussed here before, terms commonly get conflated and misused, only to end up with a much wider application than is accurate. “Vaseline glass” is yet another example of this. More properly termed uranium glass, this glass has had uranium added to the mixture that is then melted down, colored and formed into glassware. Most pieces have only trace amounts, definitely less than 2% by weight, of uranium, although some pieces were nearly 25% uranium by weight. Uranium glass normally appears on the yellow-green spectrum, depending on the influences of the uranium and other colorants used, but regardless of the color in natural light, it fluoresces in a vibrant green shade when placed under ultraviolet (“black”) light.

The “Vaseline” part was originally applied to a particular pale yellowish-green transparent/semi-transparent shade of uranium glass as it was thought to look like the 1920s version of Vaseline and other petroleum jelly, but over time, it’s come to be used, particularly in the US, for uranium glass in general and sometimes, particularly sloppily, even for any glass in that same yellow-green color range, regardless of whether or not it fluoresces. Properly, it is simply a subtype of uranium glass, as are custard (pale yellow), jadite (pale green) and Depression glass (which is also pale green but transparent/semitransparent vs opaque/semi-opaque). (Depression glass is, clearly, another one of those terms, as it often is applied to any glassware, particularly any colored glassware, produced during the years of the Depression.)

There’s nothing new about uranium glass, as archaeology dates it back to 79 AD and it was also used in European glass production for centuries, but it really began to boom in the 1800s, reaching its peak during the late 19th century and early 20th. Uranium glass production, table- and housewares, had slowed considerably by the start of World War II, but when the use and availability of uranium was heavily restricted and controlled during the end of the war and throughout the Cold War, the manufacturing of uranium glass took a dip that it never really recovered from, although there are still those today who work with uranium glass.

As with all glass, color, condition, maker, pattern, and form all play a role in the value uranium or vaseline glass brings at auction.

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