Mastery of Design: The Dame Joan Evans Putti Locket, 1570-1600

Memorial Locket with Cameo and Enamel Painting
Cameo:  1570, Setting: 1600
Germany
The Victoria & Albert Museum

From the collection of Dame Joan Evans, we have this layered agate cameo which depicts two male busts. The cameo is set in gold and adorned with painted enamels and rubies. It’s believed that the cameo was made in Germany circa 1570 and was set into the gold mount around 1600. 

The reverse of the cameo has been painted with an enamel landscape which shows a skull and a putto blowing bubbles—a clear representation of the brevity of human life. Given this, it’s entirely possible that this was meant to serve as a memorial locket or, perhaps, a memento mori.

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Maltine

What’s Maltine, you may ask? I’ll tell you. It’s actually a series of elxixirs, most of which included some combination of phosphate of iron, quinia, and strychnia. Mmmmmm…sounds healthy. It comes in a giant bottle carried by a putto. Seriously.

Look for yourself if you don’t believe me. 

Now, I seriously doubt that Maltine is available at your local pharmacy. But, it was a popular bit of quackery swill in the 1880s—developed by one John Carnrick. Maltine, like most elixirs of the era, made a lot of wild claims and, by using rosy-cheeked tots in its advertising—implied that it was safe for the kiddies. After all, how bad could strychnine be for you?

It seems that strychnine wasn’t enough of a seller, so, around 1894, Carnrick and his partner, some fellow named Reed, decided to add Coca Wine to the mix. In case you didn’t guess, that’s not a cola—it’s cocaine juice. Well, as you can imagine, that kept people coming back. After all, they were addicted.

Perhaps that explains the putto’s expression.

Maltine came in a variety of emulsions, each for different uses. Each claimed to be healthful and insisted it could cure all manner of ailments.

The reverse of this card—which is undeniably handsome, I must say—has been slightly damaged after being yanked out of the album which protected it for the last century and a few decades. Still, we can make out most of it. Let’s see what Maltine can do for you.

ITS COMPOUNDS ARE 
MALTINE with COD LIVER OIL. The best and most
     palatable emulsion and the greatest
     remedy in the world for all diseases of the
     lungs.
MALTINE with PEPSIN and PACREATINE. The
     surest cure known for dyspepsia, the disease
     most common to Americans. 

MALTINE with CASCARA SAGRADA. Used with
     invariable benefit in all cases of chronic con-
     stipation and the troubles resulting thre-
     from, acting both as a tonic and a laxative.
MALTO-YERBINE. An efficient remedy for pulmon-
     ary affections, bronchitis and for ordinary
     coughs and colds.
MALTINE with HYPOPHOSPHATES. Valuable in
     consumption, rickets and deficient ossifica-
     tion.
MALTINE with PHOSPHATE of IRON, QUINIA
     and STRYCHNIA. A most excellent nerve
     tonic.
MALTINE with PEPTONES. A highly concentrated
     food, containing a large proportion of the
     nutritive elements of beef artificially digested.
     It will be found of great benefit in all
     wasting diseases and in convalescence from
     fevers, &c.
MALTINE preparations can be obtained from all drug-

And, then, we’ll never know.

However, I don’t think I’ll be making my own batch of Maltine anytime soon. I’ll just wait for that bleary-eyed cherub to bring me some.

Object of the Day: Forget Me Not

 Click on image to forget.  Or not.

Hmmm...where to begin? This isn't a trade card per se. It's not a calling card or even a visiting card. It's simply a pretty little chromolithograph printed on card stock. Now, I do believe that this could have been used as a trade card. It looks like the sort which were available for over-printing or reverse printing through catalogs. But, this just wasn't a run-of-the-mill stock card. This one is beautifully embossed. This would have made printing on the reverse rather awkward, but that never stopped them.

This was the preferred Victorian image-- Cupid or some random putto (or perhaps just a winged baby, who can tell?) surrounded by a variety of symbolic flowers (none of which, oddly enough, is a forget-me-not), sitting on a quasi-funereal plinth, wistfully carving some sweet message into a tabula rassa with one of his arrows. On the plinth below him is inscribed "Forget me Not."

Regardless if this unused card was made as a blank trade card or as a never-used affectionate greeting, it is gorgeously printed. These bright, rich colors are, to me, the epitome of Victorian printing. Furthermore, the embossing is exceptional. A chromolithograph in relief of this quality doesn't seem to be the work of late Nineteenth-Century American printers. I'd say this was European.

Mastery of Design: The Putti Snuffbox, 1750

Click images to enlarge.
German Snuffbox
Circa 1750
This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

I always like the snuffboxes that are constructed of different media. Typically, we see examples made of precious metals or porcelain, but every so often, we get one of shell or bone which is just lovely. This one is made of tortoiseshell—a medium which found its way into a variety of the decorative arts.

The cartouche-shaped box depicts a scene of putti playing in a fountain—as they do. It’s quite a clever use of carious precious materials. The pilasters with their scrolling decoration are made of inlaid gold while the putti themselves are rendered in ivory. Mother-of-pearl inlay forms the fountain while lapis lazuli and malachite add notes of blue and green respectively to the piece.

There’s no doubt as to the Rococo influence here. Made around 1750, this box is a nifty example of a German take on the Rococo. There’s some debate about just where in Germany the box was made. Some say Southern Germany, particularly Bavaria, while others insist that the piece was constructed in Berlin.

The sides are adorned with more putti and gold shells while the base is engraved with a gold rocaille. The reeded mount comes alive with shell and the scrolled thumb-piece adds interest to the front. Today, the box forms part of the magnificent Gilbert Collection at the V&A. 

Mastery of Design: Queen Victoria’s 1842 Christmas Brooch

Princess Victoria Brooch
Presented to Queen Victoria on Christmas, 1842
Designed by Prince Albert
Crafted by William Essex after William Ross, miniaturist
Enamel, Gold, Diamonds, Rubies, Sapphires, Emeralds, &
Topazes
The Royal Collection

To celebrate Christmas with his wife and their first child, Princess Victoria, Prince Albert designed a beautiful enamel and jeweled brooch for Queen Victoria. Inspired by a painting by Raphael, the prince envisioned an angel with sparkling wings and the face of their infant daughter.


Jeweler William Essex was commissioned to create the brooch to Prince Albert’s specifications. For Princess Victoria’s enameled, cherubic face, Essex used as his model a miniature painting of the child princess by William Ross. The resulting brooch of enamel, gold, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds and topazes shows the young Princess as a putti draped in a regal blue robe. In her tiny hands, she clutches a cross of diamonds and rubies.

Queen Victoria was—rightfully—thrilled with the brooch and wrote in her journal, “The workmanship and design are quite exquisite, and dear Albert was so pleased at my delight over it, it’s having been entirely his own idea and taste.”

Gifts of Grandeur: The Rudolphi Putti Bracelet, c. 1840-1853

Bracelet
Oxidized Silver and Emeralds
Rudolphi, 1840-1853
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Made by Paris’ Rudolphi in 1842, this bracelet of cast and oxidized silver and cabochon emeralds bears a striking resemblance to the description of a bracelet designed by Masson and exhibited by F. J. Rudolphi at the Great Exhibition in London in 1851.

We can’t be sure if this bracelet with its openwork quatrefoil and cast cherubs (putti) is the same exact item displayed at Prince Albert’s 1851 Exhibition. This one, from the V&A, came in a sharkskin Rudolphi case which gives his address as 23 Boulevard des Capucines. The jeweler moved to that address in 1853. If the bracelet was cased when it was new, it cannot therefore have been made earlier than 1853.

It is possible, however, that the bracelet could have been made in the 1840s and cased, or re-cased, after Rudolphi moved to the Boulevard des Capucines. We just can’t be sure. The workmanship of the bracelet, and, especially, its ornament of vines and rococo foam, closely matches Rudolphi’s style of the 1840s. 

Gifts of Grandeur: The Putti Snuffbox, 1750

Click images to enlarge.
German Snuffbox
Circa 1750
This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

I always like the snuffboxes that are constructed of different media. Typically, we see examples made of precious metals or porcelain, but every so often, we get one of shell or bone which is just lovely. This one is made of tortoiseshell—a medium which found its way into a variety of the decorative arts.

The cartouche-shaped box depicts a scene of putti playing in a fountain—as they do. It’s quite a clever use of carious precious materials. The pilasters with their scrolling decoration are made of inlaid gold while the putti themselves are rendered in ivory. Mother-of-pearl inlay forms the fountain while lapis lazuli and malachite add notes of blue and green respectively to the piece.

There’s no doubt as to the Rococo influence here. Made around 1750, this box is a nifty example of a German take on the Rococo. There’s some debate about just where in Germany the box was made. Some say Southern Germany, particularly Bavaria, while others insist that the piece was constructed in Berlin.

The sides are adorned with more putti and gold shells while the base is engraved with a gold rocaille. The reeded mount comes alive with shell and the scrolled thumb-piece adds interest to the front. Today, the box forms part of the magnificent Gilbert Collection at the V&A. 

Mastery of Design: Queen Victoria’s 1842 Christmas Brooch

Princess Victoria Brooch
Presented to Queen Victoria on Christmas, 1842
Designed by Prince Albert
Crafted by William Essex after William Ross, miniaturist
Enamel, Gold, Diamonds, Rubies, Sapphires, Emeralds, &
Topazes
The Royal Collection

To celebrate Christmas with his wife and their first child, Princess Victoria, Prince Albert designed a beautiful enamel and jeweled brooch for Queen Victoria. Inspired by a painting by Raphael, the prince envisioned an angel with sparkling wings and the face of their infant daughter.


Jeweler William Essex was commissioned to create the brooch to Prince Albert’s specifications. For Princess Victoria’s enameled, cherubic face, Essex used as his model a miniature painting of the child princess by William Ross. The resulting brooch of enamel, gold, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds and topazes shows the young Princess as a putti draped in a regal blue robe. In her tiny hands, she clutches a cross of diamonds and rubies.

Queen Victoria was—rightfully—thrilled with the brooch and wrote in her journal, “The workmanship and design are quite exquisite, and dear Albert was so pleased at my delight over it, it’s having been entirely his own idea and taste.”

Object of the Day: Maltine

Well, here we are! Sorry we’re tardy this morning, but it’s been the typical post-holiday Monday. However, we’re back at the helm and ready for another fun week.

So…did everyone eat, and eat and eat? I’ll bet you did. If so, you may want some Maltine.

What’s Maltine, you may ask? I’ll tell you. It’s actually a series of elxixirs, most of which included some combination of phosphate of iron, quinia, and strychnia. Mmmmmm…sounds healthy. It comes in a giant bottle carried by a putto. Seriously.

Look for yourself if you don’t believe me. 

Now, I seriously doubt that Maltine is available at your local pharmacy. But, it was a popular bit of quackery swill in the 1880s—developed by one John Carnrick. Maltine, like most elixirs of the era, made a lot of wild claims and, by using rosy-cheeked tots in its advertising—implied that it was safe for the kiddies. After all, how bad could strychnine be for you?

It seems that strychnine wasn’t enough of a seller, so, around 1894, Carnrick and his partner, some fellow named Reed, decided to add Coca Wine to the mix. In case you didn’t guess, that’s not a cola—it’s cocaine juice. Well, as you can imagine, that kept people coming back. After all, they were addicted.

Perhaps that explains the putto’s expression.

Maltine came in a variety of emulsions, each for different uses. Each claimed to be healthful and insisted it could cure all manner of ailments.

The reverse of this card—which is undeniably handsome, I must say—has been slightly damaged after being yanked out of the album which protected it for the last century and a few decades. Still, we can make out most of it. Let’s see what Maltine can do for you.

ITS COMPOUNDS ARE 
MALTINE with COD LIVER OIL. The best and most
     palatable emulsion and the greatest
     remedy in the world for all diseases of the
     lungs.
MALTINE with PEPSIN and PACREATINE. The
     surest cure known for dyspepsia, the disease
     most common to Americans. 

MALTINE with CASCARA SAGRADA. Used with
     invariable benefit in all cases of chronic con-
     stipation and the troubles resulting thre-
     from, acting both as a tonic and a laxative.
MALTO-YERBINE. An efficient remedy for pulmon-
     ary affections, bronchitis and for ordinary
     coughs and colds.
MALTINE with HYPOPHOSPHATES. Valuable in
     consumption, rickets and deficient ossifica-
     tion.
MALTINE with PHOSPHATE of IRON, QUINIA
     and STRYCHNIA. A most excellent nerve
     tonic.
MALTINE with PEPTONES. A highly concentrated
     food, containing a large proportion of the
     nutritive elements of beef artificially digested.
     It will be found of great benefit in all
     wasting diseases and in convalescence from
     fevers, &c.
MALTINE preparations can be obtained from all drug-

And, then, we’ll never know.

However, I don’t think I’ll be making my own batch of Maltine anytime soon. I’ll just wait for that bleary-eyed cherub to bring me some.

Mastery of Design: The Carlo Giuliano Pendant, 1867

Pendant
Carlo Giuliano for Harry Emanuel
C. 1867
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Let’s take a look at this attractive pendant upon the back of which the V&A has written the museum number. Why do they do this?

This pendant was made by Italian jeweler Carlo Giuliano. It is believed that it may have been shown at the international exhibition in Paris in 1867. An identical pendant was displayed at the 1867 exhibition by the jeweler and silversmith, Harry Emanuel. This fact was illustrated in the Art Journal magazine at the time. Giuliano, who launched his own firm in 1874, worked almost exclusively for Harry Emanuel at the time, so it’s a safe bet that this was the pendant that was displayed in 1867.

The vase-shaped pendant of enameled gold is decorated with table-cut rubies and features three enameled cherubs and three pendant drops set with diamond chips and hung with river pearls. A glass locket fitting at the back would have allowed the insertion of hair or other mementos. 

Mastery of Design: The Colonnade Egg by Fabergé, 1910

The Colonnade Egg
1910, Fabergé
Bowenite, Four-Color Gold,
Diamonds, Platinum, Silver,
Enamel
The Royal Collection

This remarkable work of art is one of four Imperial Fabergé eggs which incorporated a clock into the central design. Designed by Henrik Wigström for Fabergé in 1910, the egg was originally presented to Russian Tsar Nicholas II as the traditional Easter gift for his wife.


The centerpiece of the egg is a rotary clock by Henri Moser et Cie. The clock is supported by bejeweled and enameled columns and surmounted by the egg itself so that it takes on the look of a temple. It is meant to represent the “temple of love.” Two platinum doves symbolize the Tsar and Tsarina, with four cherubs representing their daughters and a fifth putti at the apex of the dome—a symbol of their long-awaited son. The entire piece is adorned with diamonds, enamel, four-color gold, platinum and silver.

When Nicholas II was overthrown and his family killed in 1917, most of the Russian treasures were confiscated by the provisional government. The Colonnade Egg was among those items which were seized. It was presumed lost. However, in 1931, it reappeared in the hands of Mary of Teck who presented it as a gift to her husband, King George V.

Object of the Day, Caption Contest: Forget Me Not

 Click on image to forget.  Or not.

Hmmm...where to begin? This isn't a trade card per se. It's not a calling card or even a visiting card. It's simply a pretty little chromolithograph printed on card stock. Now, I do believe that this could have been used as a trade card. It looks like the sort which were available for over-printing or reverse printing through catalogs. But, this just wasn't a run-of-the-mill stock card. This one is beautifully embossed. This would have made printing on the reverse rather awkward, but that never stopped them.

This was the preferred Victorian image-- Cupid or some random putto (or perhaps just a winged baby, who can tell?) surrounded by a variety of symbolic flowers (none of which, oddly enough, is a forget-me-not), sitting on a quasi-funereal plinth, wistfully carving some sweet message into a tabula rassa with one of his arrows. On the plinth below him is inscribed "Forget me Not."

Regardless if this unused card was made as a blank trade card or as a never-used affectionate greeting, it is gorgeously printed. These bright, rich colors are, to me, the epitome of Victorian printing. Furthermore, the embossing is exceptional. A chromolithograph in relief of this quality doesn't seem to be the work of late Nineteenth-Century American printers. I'd say this was European.

So, let's have a caption contest. We've not done one yet this week. I'm ashamed, why don't you tell me what the little tyke is scrawling on the tablet...

Answers in the comments section, please.

Gifts of Grandeur: The Rudolphi Putti Bracelet, c. 1840-1853

Bracelet
Oxidized Silver and Emeralds
Rudolphi, 1840-1853
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Made by Paris’ Rudolphi in 1842, this bracelet of cast and oxidized silver and cabochon emeralds bears a striking resemblance to the description of a bracelet designed by Masson and exhibited by F. J. Rudolphi at the Great Exhibition in London in 1851.

We can’t be sure if this bracelet with its openwork quatrefoil and cast cherubs (putti) is the same exact item displayed at Prince Albert’s 1851 Exhibition. This one, from the V&A, came in a sharkskin Rudolphi case which gives his address as 23 Boulevard des Capucines. The jeweler moved to that address in 1853. If the bracelet was cased when it was new, it cannot therefore have been made earlier than 1853.

It is possible, however, that the bracelet could have been made in the 1840s and cased, or re-cased, after Rudolphi moved to the Boulevard des Capucines. We just can’t be sure. The workmanship of the bracelet, and, especially, its ornament of vines and rococo foam, closely matches Rudolphi’s style of the 1840s. 

Mastery of Design: The Dame Joan Evans Putti Locket, 1570-1600

Memorial Locket with Cameo and Enamel Painting
Cameo:  1570, Setting: 1600
Germany
The Victoria & Albert Museum

From the collection of Dame Joan Evans, we have this layered agate cameo which depicts two male busts. The cameo is set in gold and adorned with painted enamels and rubies. It’s believed that the cameo was made in Germany circa 1570 and was set into the gold mount around 1600. 

The reverse of the cameo has been painted with an enamel landscape which shows a skull and a putto blowing bubbles—a clear representation of the brevity of human life. Given this, it’s entirely possible that this was meant to serve as a memorial locket or, perhaps, a memento mori.

Gifts of Grandeur: The Putti Snuffbox, 1750

Click images to enlarge.
German Snuffbox
Circa 1750
This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

I always like the snuffboxes that are constructed of different media. Typically, we see examples made of precious metals or porcelain, but every so often, we get one of shell or bone which is just lovely. This one is made of tortoiseshell—a medium which found its way into a variety of the decorative arts.

The cartouche-shaped box depicts a scene of putti playing in a fountain—as they do. It’s quite a clever use of carious precious materials. The pilasters with their scrolling decoration are made of inlaid gold while the putti themselves are rendered in ivory. Mother-of-pearl inlay forms the fountain while lapis lazuli and malachite add notes of blue and green respectively to the piece.

There’s no doubt as to the Rococo influence here. Made around 1750, this box is a nifty example of a German take on the Rococo. There’s some debate about just where in Germany the box was made. Some say Southern Germany, particularly Bavaria, while others insist that the piece was constructed in Berlin.

The sides are adorned with more putti and gold shells while the base is engraved with a gold rocaille. The reeded mount comes alive with shell and the scrolled thumb-piece adds interest to the front. Today, the box forms part of the magnificent Gilbert Collection at the V&A. 

Object of the Day, Caption Contest: A Trade Card for Fancy and Toilet Articles

Click Image to Enlarge.

Nothing says “Fancy and Toilet Articles” like a staggering, drunk putto. The half-consumed, giant glass of wine aside, doesn’t he just look “lit”? What’s he doing? He’s gotten himself all tangled up in his bow and is about to topple over. Thankfully his little quiver has slipped forward to cover his cupid…stuff. I think he’s about to launch into the chorus of “YMCA.”

So, what’s the soused little fella trying to sell us anyway? This card came as part of a lot of ephemera which I recently bought (get ready, by the way, because there are about 200 additional trade cards waiting for your eager eyes). Many of them advertise for toiletry items, but this is the only one with a dipsomaniacal cherub. He wants you to know that one S. DAVIS offers you a variety of:



FANCY + AND + TOILET 

Articles, Confectionary, Cigars,
     Also a good assortment of
Choice Singing Birds, Bird
Cage’s (sic) Seeds, &c. Sold at Low-
est Prices. 


Putting aside for a moment that the ad copy was clearly written by a chimp, I must say that the assortment of goods offered up by Mr. Davis is quite impressive. We’ve got soap, candy, cigars, sundries, and BIRDS! Well. One stop shopping at its finest. I like all of those things—well, except cigars, which I think always smell like burning diapers. I think I’d have enjoyed a visit there.

Too bad it’s not 1880 and I’m not wherever this store was located. Oh well.

You know, I wasn’t planning on having a caption contest today. But, this one’s too good not to. Besides, we all seem to enjoy a drunk baby. So…

You’re aware of the drill. Put your answers in the comments.