Thursday, February 2, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Gifts of Grandeur: An Italian Garnet Ring, 7th C.
 |
| Gold ring with a garnet bead and pearls, 7th C., Italy The Victoria & Albert Museum |
Given the age of the piece, it’s in remarkably good condition though it is missing a pearl.
Unfolding Pictures: The Macao Fan, 1840
 |
| Macao Fan, 1840 Queen Victoria, by whom bequeathed to King Edward VII, by whom given to Queen Alexandra, 1901. Crown Copyright The Royal Collection Image courtesy of: Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II |
The fan was made for Queen Victoria who, in 1901, bequeathed it to her eldest son, Albert Edward (King Edward VII) who, in turn, presented the fan to his wife, Queen Alexandra.
This fan is a high-quality example of the Cantonese fans produced in the 1830s and 1840s. This fan, like others from Canton, depicts a large number of figures in which the faces are painted on tiny pieces of ivory and the clothes are made of real silk which are pasted onto the paper ground.
At either side of the central scene, in which a magistrate greets his son who has returned home on a white horse, are views of Macao. The Royal Collection states, “The Cantonese origin of this fan is confirmed through the survival of the original coloured lacquer box, finely decorated with Oriental figures, flowers and buildings. On the base of the inside of the box is the trade label of the shop (Volong) in Canton which supplied the fan.”
The Art of Play: An English Pandora, 1755-1760
 |
| Pandora England, 1755-1760 This and all related images from: The Victoria & Albert Museum |
Made between 1755 and 1760, this Pandora (a fashion doll) was created to convey the latest fashion among the courts of Europe. Pandoras were in use from the Fourteenth Century, but the practice reached its apex the Eighteenth Century as these three-dimensional fashion plates were sent all over Europe and America to promote the wares of dressmakers. By the end of the Eighteenth Century, Pandoras gave way in importance to fashion magazines.
This wooden Pandora is dressed in a silk sack-back robe, luxuriously sparking with glass beads, with a matching petticoat and stomacher. The figure wears all of the accessories and underpinnings expected of a fashionable lady of the late 1750s. Since the clothes are secured with the original pins, we can see that the garments have remained in position since the 18th century. Clearly, this figure was never played with.
The doll is marked "Eliz. Bootle, London.” This Pandora is associated with the Loveday family. According to the V&A, the Bootle name entered the Loveday family, “on the marriage of Robert Wilbraham to Mary Bootle in 1755. Robert took Mary's name under the terms of her uncle's will, therefore the Wilbraham-Bootle family of Rode Hall, Cheshire became the Bootle-Wilbraham family (connected to 1st Baron Skelmersdale).”
Prior to being acquired by the V&A in 1980, the figure was displayed for a number of years in the Fashion Gallery as a long loan from the family.
History's Runway: The Mirman Amoeboid Cocktail Hat, 1950
 |
| Cocktail Hat Simone Mirman, 1950s The Victoria & Albert Museum |
The famed English Simone Mirman designed custom-made hats to coordinate with any dress or ensemble. Additionally, her boutique offered a vast array of ready-to-wear evening and cocktail hats in various unusual shapes which would have not only been versatile accessories for any sort of outfit, but would have sat neatly upon the popular sleek hairstyles of fashionable women.
Mirman was inspired by mid-Twentieth Century scientific discoveries. Her fascination with science of the day--atoms and cell structures—served as a muse for patterns and original forms such as the shape of this bejeweled silk cap which was inspired by the undulating shape of an amoeba.
Mirman created this clasp hat of beige embroidered silk twill, lace and beads in the early 1950s as part of the line of amoeboid-shaped pieces offered in her boutique.
Punch’s Cousin, Chapter 451
“Why would I wanna trick ya?” Odo shrugged as he weaved his way through the bustling streets of the French Quarter.
Ulrika and Giovanni followed him, trying to keep up with his quick gait.
Giovanni moaned—his wound hurting him with every step.
“Can we slow down a tad?” Ulrika asked. “Mr. Iantosca is in poor health.”
“We can slow down all ya want.” Odo stopped, grinning. “But, Miss Allen ain’t gonna wait forever.”
“Where are you taking us?” Giovanni coughed.
“You’ll see.” Odo frowned. “With respect, Sir, if you can’t keep up, maybe you should stay back. Ain’t like Miss Allen wanted to see you anyway. She tol’ me only to bring Miss Ulrika.”
“Mr. Iantosca goes where I go.” Ulrika responded firmly.
“Fine,” Odo shrugged again. “But, we better get there.”
“This is foolish.” Giovanni snapped. “We’re following this creature around the city with no promise of any…”
“That woman took something from me,” Ulrika interrupted.
“Do you really think that she’s going to return it?” Giovanni growled. “She’s luring you into some trap!”
“It’ll take more than Barbara Allen to trap me.” Ulrika shot back.
“Really?” Giovanni bellowed. “She managed to get the diamond, didn’t she? I know this girl. She’s involved with my brother. I’ve seen the extent of her madness.”
“She ain’t involved with your brother no more, Sir.” Odo responded.
“No?”
“No, Sir. Mr. Charles done left her.”
“Really?” Ulrika chirped with glee. “So, the whore has no man on her arm? How difficult that must be for her.”
“She’s a broken woman, Miss.” Odo continued. “She wants to make good so she can go away.”
“So you’ve said.” Giovanni mumbled.
“Ain’t much further.” Odo winked. “Come with me.”
“I’ve never been over here,” Ulrika said nervously as she looked around at the dark faces that stared at her. She chuckled self-consciously. “You know? When I was a girl Mama always told me not to come into this sort of this part of the quarter because these people would steal my hair.”
“Your hair?” Giovanni sniggered.
“Yes.” Ulrika pouted. “They believe that titian hair has some sort of power, I think. Mama said that they’d overpower me to take my hair to use in their rituals.”
“That ain’t true, Miss.” Odo laughed. “It ain’t your hair these folk want.”
“That’s comforting.” Ulrika whispered.
“Here she is.” Odo pointed to a tavern—the tavern where he had met with Amber only hours before.
“I can’t go in there.” Ulrika shook her head. “It wouldn’t be proper for a woman to…”
“There’s women in there.” Odo said quickly.
“Not ladies.” Ulrika protested.
“Miss Allen is in there.”
“As I said,” Ulrika spat.
“Do you want your diamond or not?” Odo growled.
Ulrika snorted. “Very well. Take us in.”
“I can’t.” Odo replied. “I’m not allowed on this side.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s African!” Giovanni snapped.
“Oh, yes.” Ulrika muttered.
“I’ll keep an eye on ya from the other side.” Odo said. “When you’re finished, jus’ signal and I’ll take you home.”
“You’re safe with me, darling.” Giovanni smiled.
“Of course I am.” Ulrika frowned.
“Go on, then. She can’t wait all day!” Odo urged.
Ulrika nodded, taking Giovanni’s hand. Together they walked into the tavern as Odo scurried through the alley and darted into the back entrance.
“Back so soon?” Amber grinned, limping toward him. “Want some company, Odo?”
“Maybe later.” Odo winked. “If you don’t fall over first.”
Amber scowled. “Ain’t like I gotta stand to make my coins.”
“Leave me be.” Odo spat, hurrying to the lattice-work screen which separated the two parts of the tavern.
“You’re gonna get your yella eyes poked, Little Odo.” Amber laughed.
“If this works out, Amber, I can buy new eyes.” Odo replied. “And buy you some new legs.” He glanced at her. “Maybe some that don’t look like the pillars outside a church.”
“You little rat,” Amber sniffed.
“Shut up.” Odo smirked.
“What’re you so keen to see, Odo?” Amber came closer.
Odo grabbed Amber by her soft, meaty arm and pulled her toward the screen.
“See them?” He whispered.
“The lady with the red hair and that handsome fella?”
“Yep.” Odo smiled.
“What’s the likes of them doin’ in here?” Amber asked. Her eyes widened. “Ain’t that the English lady with them? She’s a loon, I hear.”
“Sure is.” Odo laughed. “That loon’s gonna make me my fortune.”
“What you doin’ wrapped up with the likes of her?”
Odo sighed. “Mr. Cage don’t think I’m worth thinkin’ ‘bout. He thinks I’m just a pair of hands with no mind. He’ll see I got a mind.”
“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” Amber squinted.
“What you’re watchin’, my dear, is the fall of the houses of Cage and Rittenhouse and the start of a scandal the likes of which you never saw before.”
“This is your doin’?”
“Part.” Odo nodded.
Amber and Odo watched as Ulrika and Giovanni hesitantly sat across from a grinning Barbara Allen.
“What’s more,” Odo winked. “It’ll mean the ruin of Iolanthe Evangeline and Marie Laveau.”
“Hey, did you hear ‘bout Marie?” Amber said eagerly. “I hear she was tied up in front of Iolanthe’s.”
“Quiet.” Odo whispered. “None of that matters now.”
“You think that little slip of a thing is gonna do all that?” Amber pointed at Barbara.
“I know she is.” Odo nodded.
“How?” Amber laughed.
“She’s got the most powerful hate I done ever saw.” Odo chuckled. “Ain’t nothin’ stronger than that.” He put his arm around Amber’s thick waist. “Nothin’ in the world.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-450? If so, you can read them here.
Unusual Artifacts: A French Beadwork Purse, 1780-1800
 |
| Beadwork Purse Unknown French Workshop, 1780-1800 The Victoria & Albert Museum |
The European love of beadwork rose in the Seventeenth Century, and by the Eighteenth Century, this expensive technique became available to a wider audience as many workshops in England, Italy and France produced small items glistening with glass beads. In France, the medium was often found on delicate purses. French workshops produced some of the finest multi-colored beadwork in Europe during this period. These French craftsmen used beads in conjunction with other techniques, to highlight parts of an embroidered pattern. The most expensive examples were made with a single bead for every stitch, producing a dense beaded surface.
This purse is an excellent representation of the fine beadwork produced in France in the Eighteenth Century. It depicts a figure of a woman in a garden, leaning on a plinth with a rolled parasol in her right hand and a small dog at her feet. The purse was made in four sections, each bearing an allegorical figure, one representing Justice, with finish-work of pink silk cords and tassels. It was made between 1780 and 1800.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)