Painting of the Day: A Chinese Puppet Show, c. 1790

Click on image to stand on a coffee table.
Souvenir Watercolor Painting
Guangzhou, China, c. 1790
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Painted in Guangzhou, China, around 1790, this painting is just one of a set of 100 which show various tradesmen from Canton engaged in their work. The set was made for export to the U.K. where, at the time, a growing interest in Asian culture was becoming prevalent.

This particular scene depicts a traveling puppeteer at work. Unlike the fit-ups to which we’re accustomed, here, the puppeteer himself becomes the fit-up. Look closely. You can see that the puppet theatre sits on the performer’s shoulders. He raises his arms above his head to work the puppets and a colorful cloth conceals his body—tied at the ankles.

Being no stranger to the mechanics of puppeteering, I confess that I don’t think I’d like to work this way. First of all, it’d be rather a bitch to get yourself set-up for a show, but, worse still, is how to get out of it afterwards. Furthermore, it doesn’t seem to be worth the effort. The only people in attendance are an old man and a child contortionist. And, who carries the coffee table?

Precious Time: The “Kylin” Clock, Mid-18th Century

Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

The "Kylin" Clock
Mid Eighteenth Century Case with
Mid Seventeenth Century Artifacts
Ormolu, Porcelain
Purchased by King George IV, 1820
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty
Queen Elizabeth II

Gilt bronze fruit, berries, stems, leaves and lotus flowers comprise the case of this highly ornamental clock which was initially constructed in the mid-Eighteenth Century by an unknown French clockmaker. This ornate construct was created to showcase Asian artifacts which include a pair of what is described as Chinese “Lions,” but which to me seem more likely to be Foo Dogs. These porcelain figures date to the mid-Seventeenth Century, and were incorrectly thought to be hybrid creatures of Chinese mythology called “Kylin,” hence the name of the clock. 

Other Seventeenth Century porcelain pieces included in the clock’s case are parts of a blue and white teapot, a Chinese bowl which has been inverted to accommodate the face of the clock and a Japanese Arita group of two boys which stand just above the dial.


King George IV purchased this clock in 1820 to add to his growing collection in his seaside monstrosity (which I say with affection and admiration)  at Brighton. As was often the case with George IV, he had the clock gutted, removing its works and replacing them with an updated French movement which ran for eight days between windings. In 1847, the clock was removed from the Brighton Pavilion and brought to the Pavilion Room at Buckingham Palace where it sits to this day on the mantle overlooking Royals as they eat their breakfast.

Recently, The Royal Collection, has released photos of this exceptional timepiece in its permanent home.

All Above Images:
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Image of the Day: The Piglet's Offering, 1930-1950

Polyester Slide
Samoa, 1930-1950
The British Museum

This polyester slide was photographed in Samoa and is inscribed with the date of 20 March.  While the year is unknown, it was likely taken between 1930 and 1950.  The image is both pleasing and peculiar, depicting a rural scene of a wooden bench laden with an offering of a bunch of bananas and banana leaves.  Beneath the bench is another bunch of bananas, and, if you look closely, a wee piglet.

Sadly, little else is known about the piece except that it is one of fifty-four transparencies which were bequeathed to the British Museum in 1980 from the collection of Angela Murphy.

Painting of the Day: A Chinese Puppet Show, c. 1790

Click on image to stand on a coffee table.
Souvenir Watercolor Painting
Guangzhou, China, c. 1790
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Painted in Guangzhou, China, around 1790, this painting is just one of a set of 100 which show various tradesmen from Canton engaged in their work. The set was made for export to the U.K. where, at the time, a growing interest in Asian culture was becoming prevalent.

This particular scene depicts a traveling puppeteer at work. Unlike the fit-ups to which we’re accustomed, here, the puppeteer himself becomes the fit-up. Look closely. You can see that the puppet theatre sits on the performer’s shoulders. He raises his arms above his head to work the puppets and a colorful cloth conceals his body—tied at the ankles.

Being no stranger to the mechanics of puppeteering, I confess that I don’t think I’d like to work this way. First of all, it’d be rather a bitch to get yourself set-up for a show, but, worse still, is how to get out of it afterwards. Furthermore, it doesn’t seem to be worth the effort. The only people in attendance are an old man and a child contortionist. And, who carries the coffee table?