Mastery of Design: The Edward East Clock Watch, 1645

Clock Watch
Edward East, 1645
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Beautiful and functional, this clock-watch strikes the hours and also has an alarm mechanism. The back plate is signed “Eduardus East Londini.”

Edward East (born 1602, died around 1697) was, in 1660, appointed Chief Clockmaker to King, Charles II (ruled 1660-1685). He enjoyed a large and thriving business until 1697, when he may have died. It has, however been noted, that he never really wanted to be a clockmaker and only entered the profession reluctantly.

Despite his rumored resistance, he talent in the profession is undeniable as evidenced by the

finely engraved naturalistic flowers on the reverse of the case. These are in the style of the prints published for the use of engravers and enamellers by Jacques Vauquer (1621-1686) in Paris.

King Charles I was always fascinated by mechanical objects, and also enjoyed making gifts of them. It is thought that this watch was made for the King who gifted it to his sister, Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia to, in turn, gave it to Gilbert Spencer in 1661. 

Animation Sensation: All's Fair at the Fair, 1938

"All's Fair at the Fair" was released in 1938, and was a Color Classic produced by Max Fleischer and distributed by Paramount.

A review of the short written upon its release describes it thusly:

"A couple of sticks visit the Fair grounds, and find themselves participating in a series of adventures with the ultra-modern mechanism operated by robots. Finally, they reach the dance pavilion, and the wife and husband each are taken in hand by robots and whirled around the floor. Other mechanical gags give them a marvelous meal, beauty and barber treatments, and clinical attention to restore their youth. Very clever and novel. A Max Fleischer cartoon in Technicolor."

Fleischer intended then cartoon as a nod to the coming 1939 New York World's Fair.

Unusual Artifacts: Le Gai Violiniste, 1900

Le Gai Violiniste
1900, Paris
The Victoria and Albert Museum

With the dawn of the Twentieth Century, the rich would amuse themselves with playthings such as music boxes and automata. Here we see an example of such an object. This mechanical figure of a man playing a violin contains a clockwork mechanism. It is covered in cloth and features a key on the left side.


While many automata are constructed of papier mache, composition or other materials, this figure features a painted metal head, top hat and hands with metal strips for arms and legs, and black-painted lead feet. In his hand, he holds a metal violin and bow. When wound, he plays the instrument, however, curiously, there is no sound save the click of the mechanism. The automaton retains its original box which has a picture of the violinist on the outside.

Manufactured in Paris around 1900, this is the work of Fernand Martin.

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. 

Precious Time: A Sixteenth Century Mechanical Clock

Click on image to enlarge.
Mechanical Clock
Sixteenth Century
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Mechanical clocks were the iPads of the Sixteenth Century. Okay, not really. But, they were the epitome of Sixteenth Century technical ingenuity. Not only were they functional and attractive, they were also costly status symbols. Functional though they were, they were not too dependable and, well…at this point in history, people actually had better luck telling time by watching the movement of the sun.

Here’s a great example of a Sixteenth Century mechanical clock. While the clockworks are a replacement, the construction of the case and mechanism, in which a mythical monster (perhaps a griffin) supports the dial, is very similar to others of the same period—specifically in that the mechanism is hidden in the base and not in the figure itself.

When the clock was striking the hours, the monster’s beak opened and closed and, his wings flapped. Neat!

Honestly, the only thing in the then-near future, that threatened the dominance of the mechanical clock was the development of the steam engine in the late Eighteenth Century.

Gifts of Grandeur: The Lehigh Valley Railway Brooch, 1948

The Victoria & Albert Museum

Isn’t this wonderful? Here we see a gold brooch in the form of a diesel locomotive, set with diamonds, sapphires and rock crystal. It’s the work of an unknown American jeweler and dates to 1948.

Jewelers often created special to commemorate notable events. This brooch was made to mark the introduction of diesel locomotives to part of the Lehigh Valley Railroad in the U.S. as locomotives powered by diesel were beginning to replace older steam locomotives. Such an event was exciting and important, hence the creation of this piece.

The Lehigh Valley Railroad was first constructed in the Nineteenth Century to transport Anthracite coal from Pennsylvania to America’s east coast, earning the nickname “the route of the black diamond,” in honor of its profitable cargo. To commemorate this, a black diamond shape can be seen on the company's logo on the front of this brooch.

Ephemeral Beauty: An Odd Double-Sided Chromolithograph

Click image to enlarge.

Hmmmm…this is weird. It’s not a trade card. Its paper is thin and glossy and printed with an illustration on both sides. It’s not a scrap, certainly. It was not cut from a magazine since the odds of the image being centered in the same spot on two sides of a page are quite slim. So, what is it?

This chromolithograph depicts two scenes. One shows a well-dressed, if not wild-eyed, gent holding a package of the unfortunately named Sapolio—a brand of soap which was quite popular between 1883 and 1908. Sapolio is notable for its aggressive advertising campaigns. By 1908, they’d run out of steam with their advertising. When their interesting ads stopped, people stopped buying the product and it died (it was recently resurrected with modest success in Peru and Chile). The man in the scene has swept back a dramatic drapery to remove a life-sized statue. Is he going to clean her with his bar of soap? Has he cleaned her? Is he going to clean himself in front of her? Was she a polychrome sculpture which has been stripped of any and all pigment by being scrubbed with what I can only assume was a fairly harsh cleanser?

Let’s see what’s on the reverse. 

Click image to enlarge.

The other side shows a lad in a kilt with his mum. He’s drinking precariously from a large bottle. He’s upset a bowl and is mother is concerned by it. Or maybe she’s concerned because there’s a fox carved into her over-mantle. Maybe the kid’s a drunk and he’s fallen off the wagon. I trust he’s not drinking Sapolio. In fact, I can’t see any relationship between the two images. Yet, they’re created in the same style by, presumably, the same artist.

Could this be an ad for Sapolio? A portion of an ad? Or is it an image for something else which employed the use of the Sapolio brand since, for awhile, the name was synonymous with soap in general.

It will remain a mystery...a charming, brightly-colored mystery.