Unfolding Pictures: The Houghton Boating Fan, 1890-1900

Click image to enlarge.
Fan
Mother-of-Pearl Guards and Sticks
Francis Houghton
1890-1900
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Francis Houghton was known throughout late Nineteenth Century Britain as a prolific and highly-talented fan painter, yet know very little about the details of his life except that a number of his fans survive.

The dramatic scene the leaf of this handsome fan is typical of his work. Depicted is a man leaning over the side of the boat. He is presumably saving a girl, who is stranded out at sea in a rowing boat.

The fan is unusually large compared to others by Houghton and, oddly, he has painted the sea over the mother-of-pearl sticks to give the impression of the water stretching out to infinity. He made the fan between 1890 and 1900.  The mother-of-pearl guard is in excellent condition.

Print of the Day: Le Canard a Trois Becs, 1871

Le Canard a Trois Becs
H. Xiat, 1871
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Published in 1871 in Paris, France, this print features a satirical caricature by the artist H. Nérac (also known as H. Xiat) which depicts a duck with three heads. Each head is labeled, in order, “Comite Central,” “Internationale,” and “Commune.” The duck is saddled with a flaming torch which is tied to his body by a red sash.

The print is from a set of caricatures, broadsheets and illustrations in ten volumes printed in France by Jailly and Co. Many of them, like this one, are hand-colored.

An inscription reads:
COMMUNEUX PAR H. NÉRAC.
LE CANARD A TROIS BECS
TABLEAU DE FAMILLE 

The basis of the joke is a visual pun wherein the word “canard” takes a double meaning. It is French for “duck,” but can also refer to a hoax. Three conflicting political figures are uncomfortably crowded onto the body of one duck. 

Gifts of Grandeur: A Fabergé Duckling, c, 1908

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

Throughout the years here, we've looked at many animals by Fabergé which had been collected by Queens Alexandra, Mary and Elizabeth II.  Among the lot are four models of ducks, two of which we've seen.  However, this one which has recently been added to the Royal archive is my favorite.

The work of Henrik Emanuel Wigström (1862-1923), c. 1908, this expressive duck is modeled in aventurine quartz with eyes of rose diamonds, gold.  He was commissioned by King Edward VII as part of the famed "Sandringham Commission."  The legs of the duckling are crafted of chased red gold.

Crown Copyright
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Unusual Artifacts: A Royal Paper Clip

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

I'm honestly not sure of the year of creation of the prolific bent metal paperclip of which we are all so familiar.  Still, even if those things were kicking around in the last quarter of the Nineteenth Century, they'd not have been attractive enough to hold the many bits of correspondence which crossed the desk of Queen Victoria.  No, not at all.

Her Majesty the Queen much preferred paperclips with a little panache and some element of cuteness.  Hence, we have this ducky clip.  Made of cast brass, the clip depicts the head of a duck holding a crinkled leaf in its mouth.  A spring mechanism on the inside allows the beak to open to grasp paper.  It appears that the eye is set with a pearl or something like it.  The reverse of the duck is slotted to allow for the clip to be hung from a hook or pin for organization.

"A Recipe for Punch" will Continue Tomorrow

I'll be posting the next chapter of "A Recipe for Punch" tomorrow.  We shall see what robert found when he went to check on Lennie.  Could Lennie's current emotionally-charged state have led her to do something foolish, or, is there something even more sinister afoot?

At the Music Hall: I'm Wearing my Green Fedora, 1935

I'm wearing my green fedora,
Fedora
Not Alice, not Annie, not Casey but Fedora
I usually come to town in a battered old hat of brown
But it got red/green when me and my queen go steppin' around.

She's Fussy about colors,
She's very I think,
But if she won't fix it,
Might even wear pink.

That's why I wear my green fedora.

Fedora.
Fedora is the girl I love

The popular song "I'm Wearin' My Green Fedora" was written in 1935 by songwriters, Al Sherman, Al Lewis and Joseph Meyer for the short animated film, “My Green Fedora.” The film, animated by Chuck Jones and Robert Clampett, was directed by Friz Freleng and produced by Leon Schlesinger. Released on May 4, 1935, the film was heralded for its parody of the famous act of comedic actor Joe “Wanna Buy a Duck” Penner. You’re sure to know this song, even if not from its original source. The song was featured in other films and cartoons, notably in 1936 and 1937.

Object of the Day: A Trade Card for Kellogg, Adams and Eaton

Click image for full-sized weirdness.

Four naked children—they’re not cherubs as they have no wings, and, therefore, have no real excuse to be nude—are romping about. Two of them are riding baby ducks and one, a chick. Now, let’s take a moment to reflect upon this. Either these are very large baby ducks and an enormous chick or these children are unusually small. I think that we must err in favor of the children being atypically small since one of them is wearing a morning glory on his head—not something a normal-headed baby can do. However, given their size, we must question the proportion of the things around them.

While the second duck-rider and the chicken-rider are holding aloft bottles of Kellogg’s Extract, their leader—for he must be since he’s driving the cart and, therefore, controlling the fowl—holds an American flag which has been unpatriotically marked with the words “Kellogg’s Extracts.” This makes sense, on one hand, since, clearly, they are the Kellogg’s Extract Brigade. However, we must call into question the size of the bottles, cart and flag given the stature of these diminutive nudist tots. It’s all very confusing.

Dating to about 1880, this trade card advertises, obviously, for Kellogg’s Extract which was produced by Kellogg (yes, I believe it is THAT Kellogg), Adams and Eaton of Boston, Massachusetts. This bottled syrup came in flavors much like the vanilla and lemon extracts that we use today. Usually, the extracts were, as best I can tell, marketed for use in ice creams and baking.

This fun bit of Victorian weirdness was part of a lot of ephemera which I recently bought. Actually, it’s quite a rare find and I’m very pleased to have it. While odd, it is delightful in that peculiar way unique to Victorian advertising. I think we should have a caption contest for this one. As always, post your answers in the comments section. Could it be a sly bit of trickery for a different company involving the famed two-d Addams clan?