Her Majesty's Furniture: The Burges Washstand, 1879

Washstand
William Burges, 1879
This and all related images from the Victoria & Albert Museum

Celebrated designer William Burges (1827-1881) vehemently disliked the style of Georgian furniture of the Eighteenth and early Nineteenth Centuries.  As a designer, he sought only to introduce what he considered a more appealing style.  This washstand, designed by Burges, typifies his ideals.

The piece has been brightly painted and employs rich materials, complex fittings and references to literature and myth.  Despite the fanciful nature of the design, the washstand was perfectly functional with a water tank with a tap in the upper castellated section.  It is fitted with a marble basin which has been inlaid with silver fish motifs.  The basin is fitted with a tap in the form of a bronze animal and it swivels so that the dirty water can be tipped into a bucket in the cupboard below.

Burges called “The Tower House,” in Melbury Road, London, his home from 1878 until his death in 1881.  Always eager to surround himself with his preferred style, Burges designed every aspect of the house himself—with a façade in the Reformed Gothic style, and an interior which was decorated in the most elaborate fashion. He made this washstand specifically for the Guest Chamber, of which a visitor wrote, “The whole chamber is like an ancient shrine or reliquary.”

Not only was William Burges an architect and designer of furniture, he put his creative energies to metalwork and jewelry. He famously worked on Cardiff Castle and Castell Coch, near Cardiff, in Wales.  He had a peculiar personal life—devoted to the study of medieval art and the collection of armor. He was described by the wife of a patron as “ugly Burges who designs lovely things.”

Unusual Artifacts: The Lucknow Throne, 1820

Lucknow Throne
1820
Robert Home
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Here, we see an Indian throne chair of wood, gilt brass and gilt gesso mounts, painted decoration and blue velvet upholstery. The chair dates to about 1820.

Known as the “Lucknow Throne Chair,” this chair is a rare surviving example of palace furniture from Lucknow in northern India. This opulent piece of furniture was a gift from Ghazi-ud-din Haidar, Nawab and King of Oudh (ruled 1814 to 1827), to Lord Amherst, the Governor-General of India which was given during Amherst's visit to Lucknow in 1827.

Though it was built to be used by an Indian ruler, the chair was actually designed by the celebrated Scottish artist Robert Home who was court painter at Lucknow. There, Home designed regalia, royal carriages, howdahs, barges and palace furnishings in the popular European fashions of the day. The typical British design of this piece is further adorned with the twin-fish badge of the rulers of Lucknow.

The Art of Play: Bath Toys, 1970

Bath Toy
Patrick Rylands, 1970
This and all related images from:
The Victoria & Albert Museum

You know, this has nothing to do with anything. And, it’s certainly not even remotely antique. But, I just like it. It’s cute and, even though I’m not a big fan of sitting in a bath, I’d like to have one.

It’s a bath toy. Made in 1970, the toy in the shape of a fish was designed by Patrick Rylands who was a designer of toys for Trendon Toys Ltd, Ambi Toys, Brio and other British firms. Rylands had a background as a ceramicist at the Royal College of Art. That sculptural background is wholly evident in the toys that he designed. His work is characterized by pleasing, rounded forms which would have been quite easy for small children to handle. The bath fish is one of a group of toys which Rylands designed which won the Duke of Edinburgh's Design Award in 1970. It, and its friends, are made of a molded plastic.

The Home Beautiful: The False Principles of Decoration Papier Mache Tray, 1850

The Home Beautiful: The False Principles of Decoration Papier Mache Tray, 1850

Papier Mache Tray with Mother-of-Pearl Inlay and Painted Center, c. 1850
The Victoria & Albert Museum

By now, you know how much I adore Victorian Papier Mache objects.  Along with inlays of mother-of-pearl, these items were often adorned with copies of oil paintings of old buildings or genre scenes.

Here's a great example with a scene of huntsman returning home with fish to cook.  This Papier Mache tray decorated with a painting based on an original which once belonged to the Duke of Devonshire.  The tray was famously part of the exhibition entitled, "False Principles of Decoration" which was held at Marlborough House, London, in 1852.

The catalogue for the exhibition explained that the tray had been selected because of the incongruous combination of the copy of the painting with the gilt border and mother-of-pearl decoration. It described the tray as  "An example of popular taste, presenting numerous features which the student should carefully avoid. These include a copy of the painting 'Bolton Abbey in the Olden Times' by Sir Edwin Landseer, that would be hidden when the tray was in use, and the glittering mother-of-pearl scattered around the edge."

According to the V&A, "Charles Dickens also described 'that tray with a bit of one of Landseer's pictures on it' in his satirical description of the display, 'A House Full of Horrors', which appeared in his magazine Household Words in December 1852."

Well, I like it anyway.

The tray was made by Jennens  & Bettridge, a firm run by Theodore Hyla Jennens and John Bettridge between 1816 and 1864.  They were famous for their exquisite range of papier-mache goods (writing boxes, trays, fans and larger pieces of furniture such as chairs, tables and sofas) which they manufactured in their factory at 99 Constitution Hill, Birmingham. The firm also had premises at 6 Halkin Street West, Belgrave Square, London. This tray is signed indistinctly with the firm's name.

To Serve and Project: The Adams Fish Slice, 1850-1851

Fish Slice
Chawner & Co, London
1850-1851
The Victoria & Albert Museum

The Eighteenth Century saw a real turning point in the “table manners” business. More so than in any other century, diners increasingly became aware of how and what they were eating and what they were using to eat it. During this period, new utensil and implements were developed to make the experience of dining more refined, to make the whole of the meal more elegant and special, and, to distance the diner from actually having to touch the food.

I like this concept. I’m a fan of utensils—both enjoying their sculptural and artistic qualities, and, using them. I’m also a fan of a well-set table and a proper meal. After having braces, well over twenty years ago, I found myself unable to pick up a piece of food with my hands and eat it. Braces hinder one’s ability to bite neatly, you know. It’s only been recently—honestly, in my thirty-eighth year of life—that I’ve relearned how to eat “with my face.” I can now pick up a piece of pizza and eat it. I can also cram a sandwich into my mouth without fear. Hell, I even ate corn on the cob this year without first having my long-suffering father first have to cut it off the cob as one might do for an octogenarian. But, enough of my weirdness (though I think some of you enjoy my random admissions).

Where was I? Oh, yes, antique fish slice. Among the utensils developed to newly elegant proportions during the Eighteenth Century were attractive fish slices. These implements were used for exactly what their name implies. The fish slice was among the first of the family of utensils which dictated “you can only use this thing for this purpose.” By the mid-Nineteenth Century when the Victorian’s got their properly-gloved mitts on everything, dining had become such an all-consuming, elaborate affair and theatrical ritual that there were even different fish slices for different fish. See, I think that’s quite lovely.

The first fish slices which were developed in the early part of the Eighteenth Century rather resembled a garden trowel. But, by the end of the century, they’d become quite a different thing. Some were flat like cake slices, some were oblong and curvy and some even had a boat shape. These implements provided ample room for adornment. Those with asymmetrical blades especially tended toward being the perfect palette for Rococo-style fussiness. While the handles always matched the other sterling flatware of the household, the blades could be adorned with imagery appropriate to the food—reeds or shells, and, sometimes, even, fishies.  

Just like the one pictured above...

This example is a solid representation of a Victorian fish slice. It was made of silver with pierced and cast decoration by the London firm of Chawner & Co at the end of 1850. Under the direction of one George Adams (1808-1895), this fish carver was created to showcase the fineness of Chawner’s craftsmen. The piece was exhibited both at the Great Exhibition of 1851 and the later International Exhibition of 1862.

This piece, like many later fish slices—especially those of the Victorian era—was paired with a matching fork. Both feature a crest on the handle of a man with a ladder and a tree. And, both are marked for George Adams and Charner & Co. 

And, yes, I did just write that much about fish slices. 

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: The Crayfish Salt Cellar, 1752

The Victoria & Albert Museum

The artifact itself, a salt cellar, is certainly not unusual, however, the form it takes is quite rare and unique. This salt cellar is crafted in the form of a crayfish, rocks and shells. Made of soft-paste porcelain, the crayfish is modeled and colored a naturalistic taupe while the shells and rocks are colored white, mauve, red, green and coral.


Salt cellars served both a useful and ornamental purpose, but also a symbolic one. Refined salt was quite a commodity and was placed in a vessel befitting its importance. The cellar was placed at the head of the table close to the head of the household. As I've mentioned before, persons seated nearest the salt cellar, “above the salt,” were the most honored guests at the table. From the medieval period until the Seventeenth Century, salt cellars were highly decorative, but by the Eighteenth Century, this practice had begun to be observed only in the wealthiest households who could afford the precious metals used for these opulent containers.

This cellar was made in 1752 and is unusually decorative for the date, especially for one made from porcelain. This is the work of Nicholas Sprimont (1716-1771) who made crayfish salts in silver before founding the celebrated, high-end Chelsea porcelain factory. A similar set of salts was made between 1742-1743, for a marine-themed table setting commissioned by Frederick, Prince of Wales.

Mastery of Design: The Treskow Fish Brooch, 1953

Brooch
Treskow, 1953
The Victoria & Albert Museum

From the year of Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation, we have a brooch which plays on the tradition of the Victorian and Edwardian ideals of creating jewelry in Naturalistic forms. This brooch, clearly modern in design, takes the form of a fish--the eye suggested by a sapphire set into a depression lined with granulation, the scales are indicated by diamonds set into lozenges of granulation. A baroque pearl is set into the upper part of the tail fin.


While jewelry had always been “wearable art,” in the early post-war years, jewelers really began to play with this idea and the concept that jewels allowed the expression of the character of the wearer as much as that of the designer. Jewels of this period are defined by abstract designs which bend the traditional through the use of Naturalistic motifs which are heightened by stones with unconventional shapes and asymmetrical composition.

This is the work of Elisabeth Treskow whose early jewelry follows the Bauhaus principles. In the 1920s, Treskow showed her interest in ancient jewelry—incorporating ancient gems in many of her contemporary pieces. Treskow owned a large collection of ancient jewels which she bequeathed to the Museum für Angewandte Kunst, in Cologne.

Treskow was particularly fascinated by the Etruscans, and explored the technique of granulation in which minute grains of gold are applied to the surface without of a piece without using solder. This fish shows her desire to revive the technique of granulation.