Showing posts with label parrot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parrot. Show all posts

Monday, May 5, 2014

History's Runway: The Parrot Bag, 1790-1800



Hand Bag
England, 1790-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum



Fashions of the late Eighteenth to early Nineteenth Centuries saw a transition between hidden interior pockets and external reticules and handbags as a means of storing personal items which were needed on a daily basis. While interior pockets remained in garments, reticules allowed for more portability and versatility as well as a means to show off a bit.

Early reticules like this one still resembled pockets. Still, they were often embroidered and adorned with beads and spangles. They usually closed with drawstrings. This bad is embroidered with a Grecian urn billowing over with flowers. A large parrot adorns the center of the bag. Pink tassels give the bag even more character.

This is the work of a English needlework and was probably made in the home between 1790 and 1800.



Sunday, February 9, 2014

Object of the Day: A Card by Raphael Tuck & Sons



Click Parrot for a Larger Size.




Let's get going with a collectible card from the early Twentieth Century (from the reign of Kind Edward VII). I won’t call this bit of Edwardian fun a “trade card” per se since it’s not actually advertising for anything. It’s the sort of chromolithograph that one would collect and paste into an album. Very often, publishers would produce series of these cards (sort of like cigarette cards, only larger) which were not only attractive, but served to inform the public about animals, birds, flowers, plants, history, science, etc. This one tells us all about parrots.

When I received the lot of trade cards which contained this card, I took it out and showed it to Bertie and said, “Look, Bertie, it’s a parrot.” We like our birds here at Bertie’s house. Regular readers know that I’ve several doves living on my porches (I just got a whole new crop, it seems, over the weekend). So, Bertie’s familiar with birds and knows, now, not to eat them alive. Showing him the card seemed, to me, a natural thing to do. But, afterwards, I laughed at myself for doing so. But, then, that weekend, when I brought the cards to my parents’ house to show them, my mother singled this one out and held it up for Bertie to see. She said, “Look, Bertie, it’s a parrot.” Ahhhhh…it’s genetic. It can’t be helped.

This is a very handsome card—neatly printed in the vibrant colors which were popular in the 1880s and 90s. I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s such a fine printing job since it’s the work of Raphael Tuck & Sons—famous for their high-quality postcards. The obverse reads simply, “That Parrot.”

On the reverse, we have a lovely narrative about these colorful birds.

PARROTS. 
(Psittaciformes.)

     There are numerous varieties of this interest-
ing bird, many of them being of exceedingly
bright plumage, while they differ considerably
in size. They all inhabit hot regions and have
the peculiarity of using their claws as a hand
in which to hold their food. The pretty little
Love Bird belongs to the Parrot family. Some
varieties of Parrots, as is well, known, can be
taught to talk with a perfect imitation of the
human voice, stringing words and even sentences
together. The common Grey Parrot, a native
of Africa, is the most remarkable in this way,
and, for the clearness with which it pronounces
each word; it is at the same time a very docile
birds. The Green Parrot of South America
is also a wonderful talker. For this reason
Parrots have become favourite pets in many
Households.

RAPHAEL TUCK & SONS, Ltd.
London, Paris, Berlin, New York, Montreal
Designed in England.            Printed in Saxony.
 

Publishers to Their Majesties
The King & Queen and
T.R.H. The Prince & Princess of Wales 




Saturday, December 7, 2013

Print of the Day: "Going Ashore?" c. 1940



Going Ashore?
Chromolithograph, c. 1940
The Victoria & Albert Museum


Since today is Pearl Harbor Day, I thought we'd look at a few WWII related things.

This World War II propaganda poster was printed in English, Greek, French, Dutch and Norwegian. Like most such posters, it warned against careless talk—not just from the military, but also by civilians. The idea, and quite a correct one, was that you never knew who was listening and how the most innocent comment or data could be used against the cause.

I like these posters quite a lot because they are, often, graphically stunning and wholly demonstrative of their era. Many relied on shadowy, fearsome images of stylized spies and looming danger. But, often, they used bright and humorous images to make their point.

This one is especially charming. “Going Ashore?” our parrot friend asks us. He reminds us that even the most unthreatening individual could be working for the other side. After all, he’s wearing a Nazi officer’s cap.

Lousy Nazi Parrots!

The copy reminds us to “
keep what you know to yourself.” Not a bad idea even when not threatened by Nazi parrots.




Sunday, February 3, 2013

Royal Pets: Princes Ernest and Edward of Leiningen, 1839



Princes Ernest and Edward of
Leiningen, 1839
Sir William Ross
Watercolor on Ivory

Queen Victoria’s step-nephews (the sons of Charles, Third Prince of Leiningen, Victoria’s half-brother) visited the Queen in 1839 and took great pleasure in tearing around the Royal residences. Queen Victoria wrote in her journal during their visit, “‘The two dear (though very naughty) boys came and stayed in my room till near 12, alas for the last time.”


Princes Ernest and Edward of Leiningen were quite taken with the Royal animals—particularly Victoria’s favorite Skye Terrier, Islay and a parrot known as The Great Macaw. The Queen commissioned artist Sir William Ross to paint a miniature on ivory of the two boys. They are forever captured in play with Islay and the macaw as Ernest offers the parrot a biscuit which seems to also be the object of Islay’s desire.

Though we don’t know exactly when the two boys sat for Ross, we do know that the miniature was completed by the end of 1839.

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: A Meissen Parrot, 1742


The famous Meissen modeller, and my personal favorite, J.J. Kändler was recorded in historical annals as having visited the menagerie housed at the royal Saxon hunting palace of Moritzburg briefly after joining the celebrated porcelain factory in 1731.


Kändler took great care in copying from life the rare and unusual creatures that were housed in the menagerie. The menagerie's magnificent aviaries afforded him an opportunity to produce models of all kinds of parrots, parakeets and cockatoos among the more vicious birds of prey which had been collected.

In the Eighteenth Century, exotic birds were admired not only for their exotic beauty, but their rarity. Such birds could only be seen in zoos or in the collections of very wealthy families. Therefore, these animals were considered symbols of extreme wealth. Rare birds were often included in artistic compositions to indicate vast riches and the wonders of the world.

So, it's only natural that Meissen would encourage Kändler to produce figures of the birds he had studied. Here we see one of these endeavors in this hard-paste porcelain parrot. It is very realistically modeled as it sits perched on a white tree stump with applied leaves and nuts or seeds. Its glorious plumage is painted in green, yellow, blue, puce and red enamels.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

History's Runway: The Parrot Bag, 1790-1800


Hand Bag
England, 1790-1800
The Victoria & Albert Museum


Fashions of the late Eighteenth to early Nineteenth Centuries saw a transition between hidden interior pockets and external reticules and handbags as a means of storing personal items which were needed on a daily basis. While interior pockets remained in garments, reticules allowed for more portability and versatility as well as a means to show off a bit.

Early reticules like this one still resembled pockets. Still, they were often embroidered and adorned with beads and spangles. They usually closed with drawstrings. This bad is embroidered with a Grecian urn billowing over with flowers. A large parrot adorns the center of the bag. Pink tassels give the bag even more character.

This is the work of a English needlework and was probably made in the home between 1790 and 1800.

Print of the Day: "Going Ashore?" c. 1940

Going Ashore?
Chromolithograph, c. 1940
The Victoria & Albert Museum



This World War II propaganda poster was printed in English, Greek, French, Dutch and Norwegian. Like most such posters, it warned against careless talk—not just from the military, but also by civilians. The idea, and quite a correct one, was that you never knew who was listening and how the most innocent comment or data could be used against the cause.

I like these posters quite a lot because they are, often, graphically stunning and wholly demonstrative of their era. Many relied on shadowy, fearsome images of stylized spies and looming danger. But, often, they used bright and humorous images to make their point.

This one is especially charming. “Going Ashore?” our parrot friend asks us. He reminds us that even the most unthreatening individual could be working for the other side. After all, he’s wearing a Nazi officer’s cap.

Lousy Nazi Parrots!

The copy reminds us to “keep what you know to yourself.” Not a bad idea even when not threatened by Nazi parrots.



Object of the Day: A Card by Raphael Tuck & Sons

Click Parrot for a Larger Size.


Hello all, Bertie and I are getting a late start on this post-Labor Day weekend. We had quite a good weekend, actually. But, you already know all about that.

So, let’s get going with a collectible card from the early Twentieth Century (from the reign of Kind Edward VII). I won’t call this bit of Edwardian fun a “trade card” per se since it’s not actually advertising for anything. It’s the sort of chromolithograph that one would collect and paste into an album. Very often, publishers would produce series of these cards (sort of like cigarette cards, only larger) which were not only attractive, but served to inform the public about animals, birds, flowers, plants, history, science, etc. This one tells us all about parrots.

When I received the lot of trade cards which contained this card, I took it out and showed it to Bertie and said, “Look, Bertie, it’s a parrot.” We like our birds here at Bertie’s house. Regular readers know that I’ve several doves living on my porches (I just got a whole new crop, it seems, over the weekend). So, Bertie’s familiar with birds and knows, now, not to eat them alive. Showing him the card seemed, to me, a natural thing to do. But, afterwards, I laughed at myself for doing so. But, then, that weekend, when I brought the cards to my parents’ house to show them, my mother singled this one out and held it up for Bertie to see. She said, “Look, Bertie, it’s a parrot.” Ahhhhh…it’s genetic. It can’t be helped.

This is a very handsome card—neatly printed in the vibrant colors which were popular in the 1880s and 90s. I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s such a fine printing job since it’s the work of Raphael Tuck & Sons—famous for their high-quality postcards. The obverse reads simply, “That Parrot.”

On the reverse, we have a lovely narrative about these colorful birds.

PARROTS. 
(Psittaciformes.)

     There are numerous varieties of this interest-
ing bird, many of them being of exceedingly
bright plumage, while they differ considerably
in size. They all inhabit hot regions and have
the peculiarity of using their claws as a hand
in which to hold their food. The pretty little
Love Bird belongs to the Parrot family. Some
varieties of Parrots, as is well, known, can be
taught to talk with a perfect imitation of the
human voice, stringing words and even sentences
together. The common Grey Parrot, a native
of Africa, is the most remarkable in this way,
and, for the clearness with which it pronounces
each word; it is at the same time a very docile
birds. The Green Parrot of South America
is also a wonderful talker. For this reason
Parrots have become favourite pets in many
Households.

RAPHAEL TUCK & SONS, Ltd.
London, Paris, Berlin, New York, Montreal
Designed in England.            Printed in Saxony.
 

Publishers to Their Majesties
The King & Queen and
T.R.H. The Prince & Princess of Wales