Mastery of Design: A Curious Sapphire Dress-Pin, 100-130

Dress Pin
Roman, 100-130
The British Museum

Here's a curious, but attractive bit of sparkle from The British Museum.  This Roman dress-pin dates to about 100-130.  A work of carved sapphire and wrought gold, the piece depicts the bust of a woman sporting an elaborate coiffure.  The odd part of the bust's hairdo is that, in the reverse, it reveals the face of a child.  Hmmmm...

A modern gold pedestal was added to the original wrought gold setting which included the small diamond that's still visible at the bodice of the bust.  

Sculptures of the Day: Biscuit Figures in the Sévres Style

TOMORROW is going to be a festival of food and food-related items.  So, I thought these sculptures might get us in the mood.  Why?  Not because we eat babies.  No.  But, because they're biscuit.  Mmmm....biscuit.  Oh, sorry.  Not that kind of biscuit.  

Pair of Infants: One Drawing, One Reading
Dihl et Guerhard, Late Eighteenth Century
Hard-Pase Biscuit Porcelain
Acquired by Queen Mary, 1936-38
The Royal Collection

In the late Eighteenth Century, with the growing popularity of biscuit (parian), the porcelain makers at France’s Sévres introduced the trend of creating a pair of figures—one a female child who represents reading, the other a male representing drawing. This motif was frequently copied by other aspiring porcelain makers—both French and English--who were well on their way to perfecting their own parian figures. Such is the case of this pair of infants. Crafted in the late Eighteenth Century in the Sévres style by Dihl et Guérhard, this set is numbered on the reverse in black paint, “No. 1” and “No. 2.” Historians believe that the pair may have been sculpted to be included in a group on a large clock case that was never completed.


You’ll never guess how these ended up in the Royal Collection. Oh, okay. You guessed. Mary of Teck acquired the first one in 1936 and the second in 1938. How she managed to hunt down the the mate to the first one, I’ll never know. But, she did, and they’ve been in the Royal Collection ever since.

The Art of Play: A Mechanical Fox, 1930-39

Mechanical Fox
Shuco, 1930-39
The Museum of Childhood
The Victoria & Albert Museum

In the 1930’s, the fox became a surprisingly popular subject for children’s soft toys.  This is, in large part, due to fox characters in children’s literature whose trickster antics were much enjoyed.  German toymakers Schreyer & Co. (known as Schuco in the U.K.) offered a line of mechanical toys which, by manipulation of the creature’s tail, were able to either nod their heads in agreement or shake them side-to-side to indicate the negative. This form of interaction proved quite enticing to children who begged their parents for these little mechanical companions. 

The most popular of the line was this fox.  In typical 1930’s style, the fox has been anthropomorphized.  He sits upright and wears wire-rimmed spectacles which give him a look of sly wisdom.  This example, housed in the Museum of Childhood at the Victoria & Albert Museum, was manufactured between 1930 and 1939.  It still bears its original tags and is in full working order. 

Royal Pets: The Three Eldest Children of King Charles I, and Two Spaniels, 1635

The Three Eldest Children of King Charles I
and Two King Charles Spaniels
Sir Charles Van Dyke, 1635
The Royal Collection

In 1635, Sir Anthony Van Dyke painted the three eldest children of King Charles I. King Charles was said to have become enraged when seeing the portrait because his son, Prince Charles, was depicted wearing skirts (as young boys of the time did) as opposed to the more grown-up attire of breeches. King Charles insisted that the painting be completely redone.


This is the second version, and, as instructed, Prince Charles is shown in breeches. Another important point that King Charles wanted included was his children’s beloved pets—a pair of King Charles Spaniels. Appropriate—no?

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square will be back tomorrow

Tomorrow, we'll continue with Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square as we find out what's become of Gamilla and if Gerard, Punch, Robert and Lennie will be able to find her.

I'd every intention of doing that yesterday, but the last two days have continued in the same chaotic manner which has slowed me down these past weeks.

Painting of the Day: Children Blowing Bubbles, 18th C.

Children Blowing BubblesItalian School
Eighteenth Century
The Victoria & Albert Museum

When first given to the V&A, this attractive genre painting was originally thought to be French, however it has subsequently been reattributed to the Italian School largely based on the fact that it features a poplar wooden support.

The subject is neither Italian nor French, and is actually derived from the Dutch 17th century Genre and Vanitas traditions such as Caspar Netscher's Two Boys Blowing Bubbles ca. 1670 (London, National Gallery).

Scenes of children blowing bubbles were often used as a symbol of the transience of human life according to the ancient motto 'homo bulla' (man is a bubble).  Bubbles are fragile and have a brief moment of beauty before they burst—rather like people.  Well, people don’t burst.  Mostly.  But, you get it.  The brevity of youth, beauty and life, etc.

This painting is in the same spirit.  Here, we see children play in an Arcadian landscape ofwith flowers, ribbons, little dogs and sunshine.  Ah, but mortality lurks…yes.   The crumbling ruin in the background reminds us of  the passage of time.  

I can see why this painting was hard to place.  It had no documentation and is a Dutch subject in a French style using Italian materials and a pale color palette which was rather out of place in the time period in which it was painted—sometime in the 18^th Century.

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: Elphinstone Agnes Maude, Barefoot, c. 1859-1861

Elphinstone Agnes Maude, Barefoot
Lady Hawarden, c. 1859
The Victoria & Albert Museum

I've seen Bertie make this same face.

Photographed between 1859 and 1861 by Clementina, Lady Hawarden (1822-1865), this image of a seemingly spontaneous moment of childish petulance took hours to set-up, pose and photograph in the wet collodion on glass negative process in use in the late 1850s.  

Lady Hawarden was described by her family as the "great baby lover," an affection evident in her many photographic portraits of children, most of them her own.  Clementina had a reputation as a devoted mother.  Lady Hawarden's uncle, Mountstuart Elphinstone, said of Clementina's brood that he "never saw nicer children or better brought up. It seems strange in Clemy who could never keep her own shawl in order & whose devotion to her children seemed enough to spoil a whole generation, but her good sense and regard to duty has kept all right."

This charming image in sepia, mounted on green card, was taken in South Kensington and shows that Clementina's children, especially Elphinstone Agnes Maude (pictured here), were more than happy to participate in their mother's photographic experiments.