on a vintage path...

The Many Sounds of Music…

2011-11-05T01:24:00.001-07:00

I was asked the other day what we did for the Fête de la Musique and the response when I recounted our adventures was so enthusiastic that I thought I would share them with you as well.
First, a little background information….each year, June 21 marks the summer solstice for the northern hemisphere. The word “solstice” comes from “sol”…the first syllable of the French word for sun…soleil… and the Latin “stare”, meaning “to stop.” It’s the longest day of the year in these parts…a day when the sun seems to stop in sky.

We know now that the sun doesn’t move and it’s more a matter of the earth being at its greatest tilt…towards the sun for the northern hemisphere and away from the sun in the southern hemisphere…resulting in winter in Australia when it’s summer in France. Early civilizations chose that day as a time for joyous assembly with sporting games, music, and dancing.

In 1982, Jack Lang, then the French Minister of Culture, decided the summer solstice would be a great day to celebrate all things musical; his idea grew and today, in more than 100 countries, June 21 is hailed as the Fête de la Musique. It’s a major happening in the environs of Paris; public transportation runs all night, the majority of the events are free, and they are held in every imaginable place…from isolated street corners to the courtyards of lofty museums…some are scheduled performances, while others are spontaneous.

Moustaches…J-P’s favorite pet store…got in the spirit of things with this poster featuring a feline version of the “Blues Brothers” in their window…
It’s just a great day, one where music fills the air! An event that celebrates all genres of music…classical to punk…symphonic to electronic…emanating from amateurs and professionals alike. Everywhere you turn there are guitars, drums, accordions, pianos, violins, cellos…every imaginable instrument.
We began at noon with a pique-nique salsa in the fore-court of the Musée des Arts et Métiers in the 3rd arrondissement…for a lunch with a decidedly Cuban beat!

A group of fourteen musicians from Cuba…Will Campa y su gran union…were on stage while dancers from the School of Cuban Salsa demonstrated the way the Cuban Salsa should be done……they made it look so effortless…Of course, we all gamely tried to replicate their steps…although, filled with all that picnic fare….the results were far less than spectacular…but fun nonetheless.
Then we walked over to the Jardin du Luxembourg… … where the kiosk pavilion was decorated with banners that gave the schedule of events.
Each year, France celebrates a different culture and 2011 is the year of the Outre-Mer….or “over-seas”…referring to the French over-seas territories…exotic places including Guadaloupe and Martinique in the Caribbean, Tahiti and Bora Bora in French Polynesia, and the Reunion Islands in the Indian Ocean.
The first group on stage was Te Hina O Motu Haka from the Marquise Islands…

…singing and dancing…in traditional costumes and native tattoos…

After that, the stage was filled with a Creole group named Gospel Forever…

…the park reverberated with foot tapping, hand-clapping music…

A group from Guadaloupe by the name of Negoce was next. They were accompanied by a fantastic quadrille of dancers in traditionally-inspired dress…

It was quite reminiscent of an American square dance…complete with a colorfully-dressed “caller”…only she punctuated her instructions with maracas…The dancers were wonderful…
…and because the Jardin du Luxembourg is the “back yard” of the French Senate, the dance floor was soon “invaded” by government bigwigs…
…in a French equivalent of if American politicians John Boehner and Nancy Pelosi decided to join in on a square dance performance on Capital Hill.
After Roger Raspail and his group from Guadaloupe…it was time for a performance by “Sully et les Chamanes”, a Parisian group that pulls on their réunionnais roots to create a true Bal Créole. To get into the spirit of things, each performer ceremoniously indulged in a shot of rum beforehand…

…here’s Sully with the rum not far behind.

Then, on our way home for a little something to sustain our strength…when what should we see but a team from Michel and Antonin building a pyramid of mousse…chocolate mousse. To publicize a new product, buckets filled with chocolate mousse were being used to create an impromptu sculpture in the forecourt of the Pantheon.
Would we like a couple of buckets to take home? Oui, s’il vous plâit!
Making our way along the Pont de l’Archevêché… …the evening’s festivities were in full swing with boatloads of music-lovers. No time to dilly-dally though as we had buckets of mousse to put in the frigo…French for our teeny excuse for a refrigerator.
Since we were home anyway, we ate dinner and then walked it off by heading back across the river…
…where the Quai Montebello was beginning to attract music-lovers in search of spontaneous musical happenings. Tempting, but we had a specific destination in mind…the Collège des Bernardins…a recently restored thirteenth century abbey in the 5th arrondissement. Now used as a cultural center…
…the evening’s program offered a type of music that we had never experienced…a group of Mongolian musicians were giving a performance. It was Mongolian folk music…The Song of the Steppes…
…performed by musicians in native costumes…left to right, Enkjargal Dandarvaanchig, Nasanjargal Ganbold, and Naranbaatar Purevdorj. The music was amazing. Evolved from centuries of long, solitary evenings spent by nomadic horseback sheepherders, it is fairly unknown to the western world…isolated for seven decades by the domination of the region by the former U.S.S.R. How to explain the sound? It’s almost supernatural…the voice techniques have labels to describe the six different modes of diphonic chants…the musical instruments have names like bishguur and morin khuur…and the effect is positively hypnotic…a sort of Mongolian version of Home on the Range.
The rigors of Mongolian throat singing necessitated that the performance be given in fifteen minute long sessions with a short break in between each song.

A quick couple of photographs of the instruments during a break in the performance…the bishguur is a Mongolian oboe…

…while the morin khuur is called a horse fiddle due to its traditional, carved horse-head ornamentation.
Enkjargal spent his break time signing CDs…

Their music was mesmerizing and filled our heads as we once more hit the streets…
…walking past the offices of Air Tahiti, we switched tunes…

…and then headed back across the river… …where the impromptu jam sessions were gathering momentum.

We ended our evening with a Brazilian samba class/performance in front of the Hôtel de Ville….…and then it was time to say Boa Noite…Brazilian for “good night”…and head home so we could dig into our buckets of mousse…
Music and chocolate…a great duet!

We have since tried in vain to describe the Mongolian throat singing…only to end up hurting ourselves in feeble attempts to demonstrate the sound with our untrained diaphragms…but I did find this link on the site of the Collège des Bernadins…

http://www.collegedesbernardins.fr/index.php/art/musique/archives-musique/fete-de-la-musique-2011.html
Wait a few seconds and you’ll hear a sample from that evening’s concert…admittedly, without the visual benefit of being there in person, it is difficult to tell where the musical instruments end and the vocals begin…but it will give you the idea.
Stayed tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Adventures in Brittany

2011-08-14T14:24:00.001-07:00

We’re back from Brittany and while, as usual, Jean-Pierre is using our www.oldquimper.com website to do his annual report of what transpired…he didn’t use all of the photographs and thus, I have some to share with you.
As always, we had a marvelous adventure…good friends, good food, good times!
We ate well, including…a new discovery for lunch…

…an old favorite for dinner…
…always leaving room, of course, for dessert…
We enjoyed our explorations of the region…

…travels that reaffirmed that no matter how many times we have been to Brittany, there are always discoveries to be made…whether it’s an historic path to explore…

…or a re-visit made in a different light…

We took a class in making crêpes…

and came across the customary bruyère and ajonc…
…along with the traditional hortensia…

…but we also found other floral delights that are not traditionally Breton…
…everything added up to make for a wonderful trip!

Stay tuned for further adventures...

Today’s Headline reads “Une Journée Extraordinaire”…

2011-08-03T13:30:00.001-07:00

…but that’s somewhat of a misnomer as it’s been more like the past few months that have been extraordinary…extraordinary, that is, in the sense of the history of Quimper faïence. We have just returned from Brittany and I am still busy getting back to what passes for normal, but I interrupted the laundry to make this quick posting…

I took this photograph of Jean-Pierre Le Goff…on the left…conversing with Jean-Yves Verlingue during a visit to the newly re-opened Musée de la Faïence….
I was going to use it to illustrate a posting about there being a new Jean-Pierre in our lives since on the seventh of July, Monsieur Le Goff was named the new owner of the HB-Henriot factory. The other Jean-Pierre is our feline Chief Financial Officer…

Monsieur Verlingue is the former owner of Les Faïenceries de Quimper, a partner in the Faïenceries d’Art Breton, and a driving force in the successful re-opening of the museum…not to mention the son of Jules Verlingue and the father of Bernard Jules Verlingue…the curator of the museum…whew…that’s a lot of history!.

The roller coaster of events began earlier this year, when the HB-Henriot factory entered into receivership in February. After months of consideration, the Bankruptcy Court gave the keys to M. Le Goff on the eleventh of July. I actually brought all my notes with me and was going to make a posting while we were in Brittany, but of course, I was having waaaaaay too much fun to do that! I was going to tell you that M. Le Goff is 57, was born in Paris of Breton parents, and his wife is from Douarnenez. A naval engineer, he went to school in Nantes. Up until last year, he headed a firm that is involved in naval hydrodynamics. The French Ministry of Defense is included in his résumé and his foray into Quimper pottery is apparently not the first time he has purchased a business on the brink.

HB-Henriot happened to be closed for their annual summer vacation when the final decision was made…of the fifty employees, the agreement was that twenty-six would be retained. ..including a team of five painter-decorators reporting to one chief painter. Then, this week, a name change was announced…HB-Henriot is no longer and the new name is Henriot-Quimper. Then, I had just finished digesting that when M. Le Goff up and bought la Faïencerie d’Art Breton!

So, there’s no more HB-Henriot…the firm located in the Locmaria neighborhood of Quimper is now Henriot-Quimper. The nine employees at FAB…which is now a subsidiary of Henriot-Quimper and 100% owned by M. Le Goff …will stay in their current location in southeastern Quimper, but the plan is that they will eventually move their operation to Locmaria, operating from the same building….Henriot producing haut de gamme pieces…the upscale, hand-painted items…and FAB making bread and butter items…including the traditional, personalized lug-handled bowls…the names still hand-painted, but the decoration applied with decals.

There’s sure to be more to report in the coming months….including a new logo…as this new enterprise begins to take its first steps…

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Yippee…the Quimper Faïence Museum is Back in Action !!!

2011-06-03T14:48:00.001-07:00

I know…I know…I’ve hardly done any blogging for the past month…but I’ve been busy…doing this, that, and everything else except writing. But I wanted to interrupt my stupor to share some great news…the Musée de la Faïence in Quimper will re-open to the public on June 6, 2011!

The museum first opened its doors in 1991 and regular readers of our Quimper-devoted website…www.oldquimper.com…will no doubt remember the photographs of the many spectacular expositions that have been mounted there…each encompassing a specific theme to take advantage of the more than 3500 pieces in the museum’s collection. Quimper’s Musée de la Faïence is a private museum and, therefore, was dependent upon the support of outside benefactors…local enterprises, banks and insurance firms, etc…for its operating expenses. In the spring of 2007, four of the five businesses that had underwritten the cost of bringing forth those marvelous expositions were caught in the global economic slowdown and had to withdraw their support…forcing the museum to suddenly and sadly close its doors.

During those four years many different avenues were explored…until, finally a solution was found and the museum can open once more. Here’s the cover of our invitation to this evening’s opening ceremonies…

The exhibit is entitled Odetta…Les Grès d’Art de Quimper…translation: Odetta…the Stoneware Art Pottery of Quimper.

Since its opening, the Musée de la Faïence has been to a Quimper collector what Cooperstown's Baseball Hall of Fame is to a Little Leaguer. Heaven on Earth.

To stimulate economic growth, the French government recently initiated a system similar to what many U.S. universities call an endowment fund. Immediately recognizing the implications, Jean-Yves Verlingue...who from 1956 to 1983 owned the HB factory/Les Faïenceries de Quimper...sprang into action. The tax benefits connected to the endowment fund...fond de dotation in French...suddenly made fund-raising efforts on behalf of the museum much more interesting and...voila...it will at last be open to the public once more.

Contributions from individuals are welcome as well...and though I hear you saying "But there's no tax benefit for me because I'm not subject to paying French taxes"...there is a roundabout, but very real benefit that comes from having such a prestigious museum dedicated to the subject of your collection...it adds an incalculable value to your collection.

So, FYI...for as little as 50 euros, you can contribute to the Fonds de Dotation du Musée de la Faïence de Quimper and assure the museum's continuation...not to mention that contributors enjoy free entrance, invitations to events, etc. Contact me if you would like further information.

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

May Day in Paris

2011-05-01T14:34:00.001-07:00

The first of May is a holiday in France…it’s the day officially set aside for the observance of the Fête du Travail…their version of Labor Day. But nowadays that aspect of the holiday has come to be somewhat overshadowed by a flower…for it’s also the Fête du Muguet…the day when everywhere you look, you see muguets de mai…also known as lilies of the valley. They grow wild out in the woods, but on the first day of May, they invade the city.

Here’s the view outside our window:

It is customary in France to offer friends and family a small bouquet of muguet as a gesture of caring and as a way to celebrate Spring. This harks back to King Charles IX when, in 1561, he offered all the ladies of the Court a sprig of muguet. Actually, the practice harks back even further…back to when May 1 was New Year’s Day on the Celtic calendar and Celts would give sprigs of muguet to each other as tokens of good luck. Today, it has evolved into a fund-raising opportunity and an enterprising young lady by the name of Lara has set up her stand on the street below one of our windows. Think of it as a sort of French take on the traditional lemonade stand. This is the one day when it is permissible for anyone and everyone to sell flowers on the street without a proper license.

Sunday strollers along Pont Marie welcomed this impromptu stand and took advantage of the opportunity to purchase some sprigs of muguet…a symbol of hope and happiness.
Any other day and the merchant would have been “run out of Dodge” in less than five minutes!

A symbol of humility, early in the twentieth century, French labor union leaders wore a sprig of muguet in their lapel as a way of indicating their allegiance to the cause, but today that association has been long-forgotten. Muguet is instead used to convey affection and along that vein, it is also the traditional symbol for thirteen years of marriage…known as les Noces de Muguet.

The custom of May Day muguet-giving is not confined to just France…muguet is the national flower of Finland and the painting by Franz Xaver Winterhalter shown below was commissioned by England’s Queen Victoria to commemorate May 1, 1851…that date signified the opening of the Universal Exhibition in London as well as the birthdays of two of those pictured…her son, Prince Arthur, who is holding a sprig of muguet and his godfather, the Duke of Wellington… The muguet plant is highly toxic, however…you are supposed to wash your hands carefully after touching any portion of it…so it might be better to offer a loved one a pastry version…
…like these yummy little cakes topped with pseudo-muguets! And so we wish you a Bonne Fête du Muguet!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Happy Easter/Joyeuses Pâques

2011-04-24T10:17:00.000-07:00

Joyeuses Pâques is French for Happy Easter…and as many of you sit down to your festive holiday brunch, here’s a bit of the history of how eggs, rabbits, and dyed marshmallow peeps came to be associated with the occasion. Yes, today is when Christians celebrate the resurrection of Christ, but the holiday actually has roots that go much further back. Back to when the coming of Spring symbolized a sort of re-birth after a long, hard Winter.
To the ancient Egyptians and Romans, eggs were a symbol of vitality and it was customary to offer painted eggs as gifts to commemorate the changing of the seasons. The tradition was reinstated by the Christians as a way to make use of all the eggs that had been stockpiled during Lent when the eating of meat and eggs was forbidden. Children immediately took to the challenge of finding the brightly colored eggs that had been hidden. The French explanation for how the eggs got there went like this: normally the church bells rang each day to invite the faithful to services, but during the week before Easter, the bells were silent from Thursday evening until Saturday evening. That’s because the church bells had flown to Rome to get eggs. On their return back, they would drop the eggs so that they could be found by good little girls and boys! By the eighteenth century, French children were finding eggs that had been emptied and re-filled with chocolate.
In Germany, the eggs were left by a hare or rabbit…a long time symbol of fertility and re-birth. German settlers to the United States brought this custom with them and voila…the Easter Bunny is born! Other immigrants brought with them several related customs…like burying a colored Easter egg at the foot of a vine or row of crops in the hopes that the crop yield will be quicker and greater…or believing that if an egg is buried for 100 years, the yolk will turn into a diamond!
With the arrival of the Industrial Revolution, Easter-related molds were produced and mass-marketed. The molds were both for general culinary purposes…like this rabbit-form glass mold…probably for pâté….

…but many more were produced for making chocolate…like this wonderful egg with a man-in-the-moon motif…

…or an egg to commemorate the rooster who helped to produce all those eggs…

Chocolate is now firmly entrenched into the French customs surrounding the celebration of Easter…reportedly at least 20% of the nation’s annual sales of chocolate occurs during this time. (And that’s no small amount since 97% of the French eat chocolate at least once a week).
And of course, it’s Easter chocolate as only the French can conceive…here are some examples for your holiday enjoyment…
…as seen in the windows of Lenôtre……a bunny wearing a toque de cuisinier… …waving gaily as he flies in a chocolate balloon over a chocolate Paris…
…priced at 390 euros, one would have to be a very, very good little girl or boy to find one of these creations!
Over at the next window, one finds his friend, the rooster……who is much smaller, and not quite so expensive…but the chocolate map is much smaller as well and the Eiffel Tower that he flies over is not in chocolate as it is for the flying bunny. A very strong incentive to be really, really good!
Over at Patrick Roger’s… …there’s a chicken with chocolate “feathers” and a white chocolate “nest” and the shells of real eggs that have been filled with chocolate.
Last year, Monsieur Roger created an amazing chocolate “vegetable patch”…
…with cheerful Easter potatoes…

…rows of smiling carrots…
…and several marauding hedge hogs making quick work of shelling some chocolate-filled eggs… …and of course, except for the egg shells…every bit of the scene…including the farm house…was in chocolate!
And to think that I used to marvel at a Cadbury egg…Joyeuses Pâques!
Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

The View From My Window…Dimanche des Rameaux

2011-04-19T03:21:00.001-07:00

Well, I’m still wrestling with computer issues. For now, I think the computer itself is functioning, but the keyboard has suddenly decided to go haywire….and at the moment, there is absolutely no correlation between which key is pressed and what symbol appears!
So less words…more pictures.
Early in the morning…à table in our fourth-floor, walk-up pied à terre…this was the view from my window last Sunday…
It’s not terribly unusual for us to hear music from la rue down below…strains of Piaf from an accordion player on the corner…or an impromptu jazz trio on the bridge that connects us to “the other island”…but this time, there was a definite difference in what we heard.

What the…? Ah, yes…it was Palm Sunday. Only here it’s called Dimanche des Rameaux…Branch Sunday…and while there was one palm leaf…

…held aloft by the prêtre…be-splendid in an embroidered crimson velvet cloak…

…the other participants are holding branches of buis or boxwood…
The parishioners follow…
…forming a procession of faithful…that sings its way toward our neighborhood church. We can smell the mixture of incense, candles, and foliage. With each participant carrying a branch, from our vantage point, it’s sort of like a horizontal bush chanting its way up the street.

Different types of branches are used in different parts of France. Here, it’s boxwood, but other regions might use laurel branches…in Provence, an olive branch is carried as a symbol of peace and abundance. It’s all part of a custom that dates back to the ninth century. Once the procession reaches its destination and is inside the church, the branches are ceremoniously blessed to signify vitality. Some are then placed on the graves of the departed and others are kept at home…until the following year, when they are brought back to the church to be burned as part of the ceremonies for Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.
Where does one find all that boxwood?

Buxus sempervirens is its botanical name…

…and throughout Europe it has been used for centuries in various handicrafts…carved into countless chess pieces or…duh…boxes.
Even though we are in the middle of the big city, it was not difficult to find boxwood branches…boxwood is a common component of a traditional French garden and we were lucky enough to befriend the gardeners at the nearby Bibliotèque Forney…an amazing library devoted to the Decorative Arts…
…as well as a wonderful place to sit and admire the architecture of the building in which it is housed…constructed between 1475 and 1507 as the Parisian residence of the Archbishop of Sens.

A French garden often consists of low hedges that form a decorative pattern…
…and, in keeping with that old saying…one man’s hedge clippings is another man’s symbol of vitality…
Ahhhh…Paris in the Springtime…who needs words, anyway?
Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

County Fair…Parisian-Style

2011-03-21T15:46:00.001-07:00

First of all, I should explain the extraordinary delay between this and my previous posts. We’re in the midst of a computer-related nightmare. It all started when the computer guru Chez Nous…aka Hubby Dearest…decided after the latest of several malware attacks that that was it…we were done with PCs. He then proceeded to tweak my Scottish sensibilities by running out and buying his and her Macs. The man at the Apple store assured him that the transition would be a piece of cake and that furthermore, the writing programs that I need…which are not offered in Mac versions…could still be used…because the new Macs can be partitioned to accept Windows-based programs.

Ha! Well, it’s been a month since our new toys arrived and all they’ve done is create one problem after another. My trusty seven-year-old PC is sulking after being deemed incompatible and has been fiddled with so much that now it’s un-WiFi-able. I am reduced to writing to you now on a vintage, no-frills, ex-French government agency issue laptop. How old is it you ask? Well, the “intel inside” is so old that it has to be jerry rigged to be able to go online and the celeron might as well be celery.

So suddenly incommunicado…I did what any one else would do…I went to the county fair.

Each year, for nine days, the farmer that lurks within each Parisian goes amuck and propels itself to the Salon International de l’Agriculture. It’s the Parisian version of a county fair!

The event officially had its beginnings back in 1870, although, unofficially, agricultural competitions go back much further in French history. The emphasis of the salon was initially on farm animals but over the past 141 years, it has evolved to include all sorts of produits du terroir, such as wheat, milk, and wine. It moved to the current venue, the exposition center at Porte de Versailles, in 1925 and in 1964, it became an international happening. This year’s salon boasted 1098 different exhibitors and was viewed by 678,732 entrants. It is the largest agricultural gathering in France and offers much more than cows…in typical French fashion, it’s a fascinating gastronomic experience…regional and international!

That’s not to say that cows aren’t front and center…the poster girl shown above is Candy a young Vosgienne…a breed of cow that hails from the Vosges region. Just about every type of cow imaginable is there…big, huge ones with horns…
…others that are not so huge…
…and still others that watch you while you eat.

Sheep, pigs, rabbits, chickens, and horses abound…and the bounties of the sea are represented as well. The region of Brittany had a vast display of ultra fresh fish… …interspersed with an artfully-arranged selection of shellfish…

As for pigs…pen after pen was filled with the real thing…
…and there were also some not so real piggies… All the food groups were represented…wheat for making those fabulous baguettes…and fruit…here’s a stand full of bananas from Martinique…

Technically not part of a food group, but definitely an essential part of any French diet… wine…there was plenty of du vin at the salon…

Non-essentials were there, too…like confiseries…
If you have never had a French bonbon…brace yourself…they are really, really sweet!

There were numerous educational displays that explained all that went into the care and raising of the various animals and then there were other displays that were more intent on seeing that you enjoyed the results in a more timely manner…
…jambon is French for “ham”.

There was every type of saucisson…or sausage…imaginable…
…including some that were à la truffe…accented with hunks of truffle…
As would be expected, cheese was very well-represented, but not just French cheese…there was Parmigiano-Reggiano, Pecorino Toscano, and Montasio varieties from Italy, Batzos and Kopanisti from Greece, and from Switzerland…… Appenzeller, Tomme Vaudoise, and enormous rounds of Gruyère.

Presenting all these delices were proud proprietors dressed in the traditional costumes of their particular region…including this woman from Berry…

…and this man from Finistère…
And, of course, no county fair would be complete without someone doing the “it slices…it dices” routine…only in France, the end result is a bit more ornate…
…melons are swirled so that they are hardly recognizable as melons…and a French jack-o-lantern…
…is anything but rustic.

All this effort is made in the hopes of being awarded one of the coveted prizes… …in this case, the lucky winner was Elysee, a pig from Normandy.

After making our way through the several huge halls filled to the brim with enticing exhibits and with our arms laden with bags full of products, we capped off our day at Paris’ version of a county fair by visiting…

…the cheese temple…for a bit of raclette authentique…
….not to mention une vrai fondue savoyarde…

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Fish and Company…

2011-02-23T14:26:00.001-08:00

Continuing to describe the items that are in the photographs that span across the top of our blog…we’ve now reached the middle…

…and will be talking about antique raseurs. In general, the word raseur…pronounced as “raw-sir”…translates to mean a person who is boring. A raseur…the object…was found in just about every early inn and tavern in the regions of Alsace in eastern France and Flanders…or what is now northern France and Belgium. When a customer had had a bit too much to drink or became an annoyance, the inn-keeper would set the house raseur in motion. Consisting of a fanciful figure in tôle peint…painted sheet metal…the raseur would oscillate back and forth...back and forth...until it eventually stopped...at which time, the boring person knew it was time to leave. No further discussion necessary.

We chose to adopt a raseur as the logo for our antiques business…The Meadows Collection…and you’ll find the raseur shown to the right on the home page of our web site: www.meadowscollection.com.

It’s a perfect symbol as we specialize in antiques and vintage decorative arts that are definitely not boring and pride ourselves on always having objects that are a little bit out of the ordinary...we like to say that they are "Just as unique as you are."

The raseur featured on the top of the blog has its own stand; other types were designed with a counterbalance weight at the bottom and could rest directly on the bar counter or zinc…pronounced “zang” and meaning the bar counter which was typically topped with zinc…the metal that we pronounce as “zink”.

In addition, each night, the tavern owner would set the raseur in motion to signify “last call”. Kinetic sculptures…they are both playfully decorative and downright useful…particularly handy should you ever suffer with a guest who has over-stayed their welcome…hence the title of this post!

Raseurs were made in all sorts of fanciful shapes…here’s one that
typifies those found in nineteenth century Alsace…

…he represents a horn blower…recalling that up until around 1790, the guardians of the Cathedral in Strasbourg would blow on a horn…called a grüselhorn…to signify that the town gates were about to be closed and those that were not authorized to spend the night in the city had best beat a hasty retreat. A fitting motif for a raseur.

Here’s another raseur that looks surprisingly like Mickey Mouse…

…and this one’s a colorful parrot…

Definitely not boring…they are all wonderful examples of French folk art…what the French call art populaire!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Some Caviar Caveats…

2011-02-17T14:12:00.001-08:00

Continuing the survey of the images that run across the top of the page…let’s see…we’ve done the one on the far left…the Bacchus/Bacchante piece…and the 1930s mug shot of a bad check writer from Pennsylvania. This post will be about the vintage caviar tin that is in between those two.
True caviar is the unfertilized eggs of a specific type of sturgeon. Processed and salted, the eggs...also known as roe...are a luxury gourmet item, with some varieties advertised at upwards of $10,000 per kilo…that’s more than $4500 a pound!

Here are some caviar caveats…

In most cases, caviar is delivered to a re-seller packaged in a tin such as these vintage containers…
Beluga is the rarest variety. It comes in a blue tin and has dark, black eggs of the largest diameter or grain...about 2.5mm. A tin of the size of our largest Beluga example...6.25 inches in diameter and 3.25 inches high…would have had its contents divided into smaller, more marketable jars....or else someone was very rich, indeed or perhaps expecting an enormous number of hungry guests! The smaller of our Beluga tins…the blue tin on the far left…measures 4.9375 inches in diameter and 1.3125 inches high.

Other varieties include Osetra which is packaged in a yellow tin and Sevruga (red tin).

Caviar is highly perishable...it can be pasteurized to extend its shelf life, but not without the quality of the product suffering significant loss. Once a caviar container is opened, the contents must be consumed within a couple of days.

Malossol is a Russian word meaning "little salt"...this signifies a caviar that is both the freshest and of the highest quality.

Guriev is the former name of a port on the Caspian Sea...it is now known as Atyraü, Kazakstan.

There are 280 calories in 100 grams of caviar.

A sterling silver spoon is not to be used with caviar as it imparts an unpleasant metallic taste...instead, tradition calls for a mother of pearl utensil for serving.

In ancient Egypt, caviar was offered to the feline deities; in the newly-industrialized nations of the nineteenth century, caviar was reserved for the wealthy and served at prestigious functions; in eastern Europe, caviar is more democratic and is served at any festive occasion...birthdays, weddings, etc.

A high-quality caviar should not be served masked with onions, eggs, capers, and the like...caviar connoisseurs insist that it is best served heaped upon a small piece of thin, toasted bread that has been spread with vodka-infused butter.

Sturgeons are believed to be one of the oldest survivors of the prehistoric age, but pollution and over-fishing have taken a toll and it is now on the list of endangered species. Russia has ceased all fishing for sturgeon in the hopes of protecting the species.

The red tin in the group photograph measures 4.125 inches in diameter and 1.125 inches high...the caviar it once contained came from Iran. Iran continues to fish for sturgeon. In 1956, the government of Iran granted a monopoly for the processing of its caviar to a French firm...the product is known as Caviar Volga.

Russian caviar and Iranian caviar are different owing to the peculiarities of the waters and depths of the Caspian sea...each variety has its proponents. (Iranian caviar has been banned from being exported into the United States since the 1970s).

Sevruga caviar comes from the smallest sturgeon...perhaps a meter in length and weighing around 30 to 40 pounds. The roe is characterized by its small...1mm diameter...grains and is prized for its intense flavor.
Emptied of caviar by the time we found them…these tins would add a wonderful touch of color atop a kitchen cabinet for example…and each would surely spark some interesting conversation. They would also be great as unique storage tins for all those things that need to be stored…sewing tools and buttons…what have you!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

The Twisted Tale of a Collection of Paintings

2011-02-13T12:35:00.001-08:00

It being so close to Valentine’s Day and all…it might not be the best time to complete the tale of our visit to the Musée de l’Orangerie….see our previous post and comments for January 24, 2011 entitled Waiting in Line for Oscar. But it is, after all…at least from Paul Guillaume’s point of view…a love story…despite the suspicions of double murder, the adultery, the fake pregnancy, the black market adoption, the hiring of a hit-man, the blackmail, the perjury, the prostitution…not to mention all those paintings.

For Paul was deeply in love with Domenica.

Paul Guillaume was born in Paris in 1891. He was by no means a wealthy man, but that didn’t deter his appreciation for the arts. Finding a cache of African sculptures that somehow made their way into a shipment of rubber that was delivered to the automobile garage in which he worked, Guillaume was quick to appreciate them…at a time when the arts of Africa were little recognized. He founded an association, published a magazine and as luck would have it, an exposition of his Gabon sculptures came to be admired by none other than Apollinaire…Guillaume Apollinaire, the Polish/Italian writer who coined the term “surrealism” and who was friends with a who’s who of the then up and coming art scene…Pablo Picasso, Quimper’s Max Jacob, Jean Cocteau, Marc Chagall, etc., etc.

Soon Paul found himself in the midst of all this…first as a collector of art that was still unrecognized and relatively inexpensive…and later as a wealthy art critic-dealer-collector. He met Domenica when she was working either selling gloves or as a hat-check girl at a nightclub…accounts differ.

Domenica was born Juliette Léonie Lacaze in the Aveyron…the midi-pyrénées region of France…famous for roquefort cheese and the Laguiole knives with which to cut it. She was seven years younger than Paul.

They married in 1920. In 1922, Paul is the art counselor for Dr. Albert C. Barnes…yes, that Dr. Albert C. Barnes…of the Barnes Foundation in Pennsylvania. Life is good for Domenica…a long way from Aveyron. She and Paul…and five or six servants…accounts differ…live in a 650 square meter apartment on what is now Avenue Foch in the 16th arrondissement of Paris. (To put that into perspective, I write to you now from about one-thirteenth of that amount of apartment…and zero servants).

In addition to Maurice Utrillo and Chaïm Soutine, Paul represents Amedeo Modigliani…who painted his portrait…
…Paul was just twenty-three years old at the time of the sitting.

The museum which now houses the collection initiated by Paul…le Musée de l’Orangerie in Paris…has a re-creation of one of the rooms of Paul and Domenica’s apartment……as well as several scale-sized models depicting how they lived with all their paintings…Paul had the idea of eventually creating a home/museum à la Dr. Barnes. Here’s the model of the dining room…
The painting obscured by the “chandelier” is by André Derain and is entitled La Table de la Cuisine…

Domenica is the darling of the art world…

Derain is just one of many artists to paint her portrait…
Portrait de Madame Paul Guillaume au Grand Châpeau…painted in 1928 or 1929 when Domenica was in her early thirties…

…and she is often purported to have modeled as the subject of this 1922 Odalisque avec les Pantalons Rouge by Henri Matisse… But Domenica is restless and begins to collect men in the same manner that her husband collected art. She becomes the mistress of Jean Walter…a wealthy architect. Born in 1891, Walter had been a military attaché for Georges Clemenceau during World War I and had since made a name for himself designing hospitals. But his great wealth actually stemmed from a mine in Morocco that had been received casually as partial payment for an earlier architectural commission. In 1925, the holding was found to be extraordinarily rich in copper, lead, and/or zinc…again, accounts differ. Whatever the mineral, Jean Walter was even richer than Paul.

Paul is not happy, but is still desperately in love with Domenica and agrees to a move that sees Walter leaving his wife and three children so that the three of them…Paul, Domenica, and Jean…can live together in an apartment in Paris…ironically in a building for which Jean Walter had been the architect. (I don’t make this up folks! Speaking of making things up…American accounts of the events that followed, published in Life, Time, and The New Yorker magazines, were puritanically-revised, including describing Jean Walter as a widower! )

As it turns out, Paul is dying when this move occurs. He has either ulcers or appendicitis…accounts differ…but all accounts agree that he did not receive the care one could reasonably expect from a loving wife. Taken to the hospital in a very advanced stage of septic shock, Paul dies on the operating table. It’s 1934 and he was just forty-three years old. There is an investigation, but due to lack of evidence, no charges are filed. Now, as it turns out, Paul’s will stipulates that should he die and he and Domenica do not have children, then the paintings would become the property of the museum of modern art in Luxembourg. If they did have children, then Domenica would have control of the collection up until the child or children reached majority.

As you can imagine, this does not sit well with Domenica. Quickly sporting a cushion under her dress, she fakes a pregnancy, disappears at “term” and returns with a baby that her ex-con brother, Jean Lacaze, has purchased on the black market. The child is dutifully registered as the son of Paul Guillaume and is named Jean-Pierre Guillaume… nicknamed Paulo…or Polo by some accounts.

Domenica and Jean Walter marry in 1938…or 1941…accounts differ. One of the conditions of the marriage being that Jean immediately adopts Paulo. Domenica is legally in charge of the art collection and she sells a number of the cubist paintings and begins to steer the collection toward post-impressionist art. She buys Monets, Renoirs, Cezannes…including this Cezanne still life… …Pommes et Biscuits, painted in 1879 and purchased at auction in 1952 by Domenica bidding furiously against the Greek shipping magnate Stavros Niarchos in order to obtain the painting for the then record price of 33 million French francs.

Jean has at least five times the wealth that Paul had, and Domenica now cuts an even wider swath in social circles…but she still continues to take on lovers. In 1957, Domenica is 59 and her constant “companion” is a homeopathic doctor named Maurice Lacour. Dr. Lacour is 44 years old and, as it turns out, is an expert on poisons. One Sunday afternoon, the trio are having their customary lunch at a countryside inn. Domenica reportedly asks Jean to run across the street to get some cigarettes and blam…out of nowhere, a car strikes him. It’s a hit-and-run. An ambulance is called, but Domenica turns it away, stating that she preferred that she and Maurice bring the gravely injured Jean to the hospital. After what was later described as an unusually long time, Jean Walter is dead on arrival at the hospital.

Eyebrows are raised, but no charges are filed.

Meanwhile Paulo is getting close to the age when he would inherit the impressive collection of paintings. He hadn’t done much with his life. Domenica had blurted out that she was not his mother during a heated argument when he was still an adolescent, but Jean Walter had been a loving “father”. Paulo life’s so far had consisted of odd jobs, brief travels here and there…the most stable period being when he fulfilled his military duties as a paratrooper in the Franco-Algerian War. It was at this time that Domenica’s brother Jean and Maurice allegedly hired a hit-man to rid themselves of Paulo. Unfortunately for them, the man they approached had been a paratrooper himself and respecting a “code of honor”, told Paulo of the plot and notified the police. Maurice was arrested, but claimed that it was all a misunderstanding…that the money that had been exchanged was for a real estate deal. Maurice was eventually released and the case did not proceed any further.

Paulo returns to Paris and becomes a free-lance photographer. He meets a girl…Marie-Thérèse Goyenetch, nicknamed Maïté. Paulo thinks she’s a hairdresser, but she’s actually a call girl that had been bribed by Domenica’s brother, Jean. Maïté tells police that Paulo is her procurer…which is a felony. And it just so happens …what a coincidence…that being convicted of a felony would have voided Jean Walter’s adoption of Paulo, thus negating his rights to inherit the fortune. There’s an investigation…witnesses are called…testimony given…perjury discovered. But nothing really comes to fruition and the next thing you know, the French Minister of Culture, André Malraux, is announcing that contracts have been signed and that upon the death of Domenica, the 146 paintings…including 24 Renoirs, 12 Picassos, 15 Cezannes, 10 Matisses, 29 Derains, and 22 Soutines…will become the property of the French government…the very paintings that one sees on the lower level of the Musée de l’Orangerie..

In 1979, Domenica dies, leaving what was left of her still vast fortune to her current lover…a Russian art critic. And Paulo? Some say he met with Domenica some years after the assassination plot and subsequently renounced all claims to an inheritance…by some accounts, in exchange for a healthy sum.

So the next time you admire the paintings downstairs at the Musée de l’Orangerie…keep in mind the story behind the collection…and the individuals involved…for it’s true that still waters can run very, very deep…
…Monet’s Les Bateaux Rouge…Argenteuil 1875…part of the Jean Walter-Paul Guillaume Collection…the name of the collection said to be part of the deal.

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Shipping 101

2011-02-08T09:24:00.001-08:00

At the risk of alienating one twelfth of the members of the blogosphere, I confess that I sometimes find that living with a died-in-the-wool Virgo has its moments. Like when I…a whimsical Pisces…grab a chisel from his carefully-alphabetized tool box to open a can of paint…or use the “wrong” sponge to wash his favorite kitchen knife…or not replace the cap on a glue bottle quite straight…or plug in an external hard drive upside down…little things.

However, after all these years, I’ve learned to take advantage of what some might call nauseating nit-picking or being prudent to the point of the ridiculous…notice I said “some”. Anyway, I soon realized that his infernal cautiousness has some merit and can actually be a real asset…especially in his capacity as head of our shipping department.

And I’ve actually come to appreciate his ways, as I was recently reminded of how the rest of the world views the requirements for shipping a fragile item…an antique Quimper pottery figure that was once in mint condition arrived carelessly packed and consequently cracked…the crack corresponding perfectly with the dent in the flimsy cardboard box in which it was sent.

To make something good out of this unfortunate occurrence, here are some of my favorite Virgo’s golden rules for shipping a fragile item…

…the boxes must be sturdy; note the word “boxes” as all items are to be double-boxed…a box within a box. No exceptions!

…wrap the item first in unprinted newsprint or a hospital pad and then in several layers of bubble wrap and seal that in a box. The size of that inner box depends upon the fragility of the object. A sturdy ceramic plate, for example, can be fit snugly into the box with just a bit of packing “peanuts” (or Styrofoam) in the corners. Something more vulnerable…a figure with protruding head or hands, etc….should be in a box that is at least one inch…two inches in some cases…larger than the wrapped package all the way around. In those instances, the wrapped package goes into this inner box after an inch (or two, depending on the size of the box) of peanuts is placed on the bottom. And then more peanuts are added as described later in this post.

…by the way, in general, if the item is breakable and your package will be sent by air, best to not rely solely on the new-fangled air packets…they have been known to develop leaks while en route in an unpressurized cargo plane and consequently the item ends up being poorly protected during the ground portion of its journey.

…pack each of the boxes as full as you can with the packing peanuts…so full that closing and taping them shut is usually a two-man operation. The theory here is to not pack an item too loosely…because even though it’s in bubble wrap, you don’t want the package moving around within the inner box or the inner box moving around within the outer box.

…include all pertinent information inside the top of the outer box…invoice, etc…as well as a duplicate of the shipping label.

He then goes over the entire box with clear packing tape…the entire box. This step not only protects the box from moisture, but gives extra support and protection from dents and punctures.

And since a picture says a thousand words…here are some snapshots of the Master Packer at work…

Here’s what he does:

Place the item on a flat, sturdy surface…in this case, the item is an antique Quimper faïence figure…Next, wrap the item…he uses hospital diapers from a medical supply store, but unprinted newsprint can be used as well…emphasis on unprinted. This can be purchased from a moving or storage company. First, wrap the diaper or paper around any parts of the item that protrude…
…and then continue with at least two layers…
Do not use bubble wrap next to the item itself as it can leave an imprint…the same goes for printed newspaper or pages from a magazine. Only after the piece is wrapped in the diaper or unprinted newsprint is it time for the bubble wrap…
In general, he prefers the larger-bubbled variety, but here he is using the regular-sized…which works, it’s just not his favorite. It’s a Virgo thing.
Keep wrapping the piece in the bubble wrap until you no longer feel the contours of the piece…you just feel the bubbles…
Then tape the bubble wrap with packing tape to form the package…
You’re now ready for the first box…as described above, the size of this box will vary according to the fragility of the item being shipped. For something vulnerable, as in the illustration, the inner box should be all the way around at least two inches larger than the bubble-wrapped piece. The box should be sturdy cardboard…such as the type available from moving companies or re-cycled liquor boxes, etc. He often has to customize a box…cutting a too-large box down to fit the specific situation. For this very fragile item, he will first fill the inner box with about two inches of packing peanuts, place the bubble-wrapped piece on top, and add more packing peanuts…stopping to tamp them down in the corners and making sure to fill all the empty spaces. Once you have a nice, snug fit, tape this first box closed with packing tape.

For the second box…the outer box…again, choose a box that is sturdy and will be at least two inches larger all the way around…three inches is even better. Here, he has customized a box to be just the right size and has drawn a line to illustrate what will be the final “peanut” level…

Place a two inch layer of packing peanuts on the bottom of this outer box and then put in the sealed inner box.
Now pour on the packing peanuts…this was the part that our previous cat…Porky…really liked. He loved to chase and bat around any stray peanut…but J-P could care less about them. Anyway, be sure to use enough packing peanuts…stopping every so often to pack them down and see that they get into every corner…
…and make sure that there will be enough under the top flaps as well.
Put the pertinent paperwork and duplicate shipping information on top…preferably so that it sits off to the side under one of the box flaps to prevent it from being cut when the box is eventually opened. Then you’re ready to tape closed the outer box…
…again, if you’ve put in the proper amount of packing peanuts…then this usually is a two-person proposition.

Then comes the tape…lots and lots of packing tape. Any seam should be completely covered with a solid piece of packing tape…a piece that goes all the way around the box. He does this for both the top and the sides…
…and then does the bottom, too…carefully, sealing the entire box.
Then all you have to do is tape on a shipping label and it’s ready to go! He puts a mile of tape over the shipping label as well…but then he’s a Virgo!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

And if it’s Quimper pottery that you crave…you’ll love www.oldquimper.com

Face Front…Hold Still…Turn to your left…

2011-02-04T04:10:00.001-08:00

By some accounts, the mug shot was invented by Allan Pinkerton (1819-1884), a nineteenth century detective, famous as the founder of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. Others date its origin as 1848 and the place as a police station in Liverpool, England. Still others say that the custom began in the 1870s, in Paris, France by Alphonse Bertillon (1853-1914), a clerk at the Préfecture of Police. The earliest mug shot still in existence is thought to be one that dates from 1843 and was taken by police in Brussels, Belgium…very early indeed, as that would have happened only fours years after the invention of photography.

Whatever the true origin, the mug shot has become a cultural icon of sorts…recording images of folks as diverse as Bill Gates…
…in a mug shot taken after a 1977 arrest for drunk driving and driving without a license…

…and Elvis Presley…
…in a mug shot-style photograph taken by the FBI when he visited the Nixon White House. There have been reports that even Bert of Sesame Street’s Bert and Ernie fame has heard the drill…face front…hold still…turn to your left.

One of our specialties is vintage photography and includes both serious images and those that are a bit quirky. Here’s a vintage mug shot that made its way into our inventory…
…this would be one Daniel Richards alias Daniel Williams…a salesman who gave his address as 121 N 16th Street in Philadelphia. This image dates from 1938 when he was arrested by the Scranton police for issuing worthless checks.

On the reverse is pertinent information along with a space set aside for his Bertillon measurements…
Named for its inventor, the aforementioned Alphonse Bertillon, the system…also called anthropometry…was the first scientific method for identifying criminals. It was developed in the days before fingerprinting…at a time when criminal identification was obtained solely by eye-witness accounts…and, thus, was notoriously unreliable. In the Hound of the Baskervilles, Sherlock Holmes is described as being the second highest criminal expert in Europe…after Bertillon. Of course, Alphonse Bertillon is not to be confused with the Glacier Bertillon…the world-renowned ice cream maker established on the Ile Saint-Louis in Paris in 1954…that’s for another posting…

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Waiting in Line for Oscar

2011-01-24T10:56:00.001-08:00

Today is the final day of a hugely successful exhibit tracing the over sixty-year-long career of an artist who was known to his family as Oscar.

We know him as Claude…Claude Monet…and the event at Paris’ Grand Palais celebrates his life (1840-1926) and his accomplishments as one of the founders of French Impressionist painting.

The sign shown above warns those in the line outside the Grand Palais that they still had another six hours before they would be able to even begin viewing the two hundred Monet paintings inside…many from Paris’ Musée d’Orsay (which is currently being renovated), as well as others from collections in Brazil, Russia, the Netherlands, Australia, and the United States. It is the first such gathering of Monet’s art since 1980 and as the exhibit encompasses paintings representing his entire range of work, it was a must-see event. Today is the very last day…the exhibit opened on September 22, 2010 and since then some 889,200 visitors have braved long lines…some waiting for over seven hours! Since this last Friday, it’s been a Monet marathon…with the museum being open 24 hours a day. Tonight at 9pm, the final closing bell will toll.

We lug our cameras around with us at all times, but unfortunately…and understandably…photographs were not allowed to be taken within the exhibit.

But…

Just a brief stroll away is the Musée de l’Orangerie…where eight Monet paintings that were too large to be transported gracefully are on display. No line at the entrance…and not too many people to get in our way as we take…with permission…some images for you to enjoy.

The paintings are enormous…garden scenes…some with nympheas…French for water lily…while others feature saules…French for willow trees. This photo will give you an idea of the size of the paintings. They are all two meters high and range in width from six meters to over twelve meters. Monet first came up with the idea for the series in 1897, with the actual work beginning in 1914 as France was in the midst of World War I. Later, Monet signed an agreement giving the works to France as his way of honoring the fallen French soldiers. The Impressionists strove to capture the effect of light, often painting outdoors using quick brushstrokes and blocks of color; due to their size, these were painted in a specially-created studio at his home in Giverny.

And now I’ll shut up and let you enjoy Oscar Claude Monet’s message for peace…

Reflets Verts…Green Reflections

Matin…Morning

Soleil Couchant…Setting Sun

Les Nuages…Clouds

Le Matin aux Saules…Morning at the Willows

Le Matin Clair aux Saules…Morning Light at the Willows

Les Deux Saules…Two Willows
(Unfortunately, I couldn’t get back far enough to include the second willow, but it’s there!)

Reflets d’Arbres…Reflections of Trees

Those are the eight…and for fun, here are a couple of detail views of Reflets Verts:

Note: Speaking of fun…this posting is the first in a series of our own…the “all-work-and-no-play-is-no-fun” series of posts that will be included from time to time…enjoy!

Bacchus...the Roman God of Wine and Merrymaking

2011-01-17T14:05:00.001-08:00

Some of you have noticed the band of small photographs of vintage objects that runs across the top of the blog…so I guess that now is as good a time as any to begin to explain what they are and why they are there. They represent a particular type of antique or vintage decorative art that seems to jump out at us from its hiding place in the corner of a dusty old brocante and instantly makes our hearts flutter. They are shown above in no particular order,…but I’ll begin with the photo on the top left…
Sometimes we come across something that we have no clue whatsoever what it was originally meant to be…such is the case with this piece. Silvered metal and almost eleven inches wide, it has a well-executed three-dimensional motif…but where and how it was used is a mystery. What isn’t a mystery is its decorative value…it’s fabulous!It was a long, long time ago, and consequently, I’ve forgotten most of what I learned about classical mythology…but since one of our specialties is antique and vintage wine-related objects, I do remember that Bacchus was one of the gods of the Roman Empire…the Greeks called him Dionysus. By either name, he was the god of the grape harvest, winemaking, and wine. His side jobs included serving as the god of ecstasy, intoxication, merrymaking, and theatre arts.
On one side is Bacchus…
…to him we owe the term “Bacchanalia”…referring to a wild party with much revelry. Bacchus’ mission was to end care and worry. He certainly doesn’t look too worried here.
The other side features a Bacchante…
…what the Romans called the female followers of Bacchus; the Greeks called them Maenads which means “raving”. Well, she’s certainly beautiful…
…perhaps that’s the origin of the phrase “raving beauty”!
Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

One of My Favorite Mystery Pieces

2011-01-12T10:29:00.001-08:00

Some antiques dealers “just sell the stuff” and others spend countless hours researching and trying as best they can to find out everything possible about what they sell.

We fall into the latter category.

Some buyers seek out items from people who “didn’t know what they had” and others prefer the security of dealing with a knowledgeable seller.

We attract the latter.

To each his own…there’s no way to persuade the “they didn’t know what they had” crowd, even though, in truth, one is far more likely to fare better dealing with a seller who knows his or her stuff.

Of course, one can not know everything and as hard as one tries, an antiques dealer’s life is full of mysteries and mystery pieces.

This¨French faïence tile is just such a piece…It’s one of my favorite mystery pieces. The mystery is not a total “who dunnit” as the tile is signed…
So we know that Lachenal is the creator…but which Lachenal?

There’s Edmond (1855-1930), who began working with Théodore Deck at the tender age of fifteen and eventually started his own pottery studio in Malakoff, a Parisian suburb, in 1880. But Edmond had two sons, Raoul (1885-1956), who, after working with his father, opened a pottery of his own in 1904 in another Parisian suburb…what is now known as Boulogne-Billancourt and Jean-Jacques who also worked with his father and later, after returning from World War I, opened a studio in 1918 in yet another Paris suburb…Chantillon.

This signature is on a piece said to be by Edmond and it certainly looks very similar to the signature on ours…

But in some cases, Edmond signed his pieces like so…

…with an E. in front…but those were later pieces…works that were very art nouveau in form and style. Our tile is more in keeping with Edmond’s earlier work with Deck…well before the birth of his sons…and thus, before he might have felt the need to differentiate between “Lachenals”.

Raoul used a backwards R in front of Lachenal on many of his pieces…and most of his work doesn’t correspond to the style of our tile…so he’s less likely to be the right answer.

Jean-Jacques’ pieces are maddeningly signed “Lachenal” in virtually identical lettering…but again, his designs reflect the more modern post-World War I motifs.

So we’re leaning towards an Edmond Lachenal attribution…and so do those we’ve asked…but until this tile starts talking…one will never be positive…and so, the mystery continues.

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com …and for more fun that is specifically related to French faïence…go to www.oldquimper.com

Provenance and Old Socks

2011-01-06T11:15:00.001-08:00

I seem to have come across a number of old socks last month…Christmas stockings for sure, but also other pairs of socks that were featured in two different expositions. The Christmas stocking to the right is both priceless and worthless, as it belongs to Jean-Pierre…the feline member of the family…after previously belonging to his predecessor, Porquier-Beau. But the other socks had wildly different estimates of value.

A lesson in provenance.

Provenance generally means place of origin…the word itself being derived from the Latin word originale. But when used in reference to an item that is vintage or antique, it has come to mean something else as well. Something that results in one pair of old socks that crossed my path last month being listed as having no monetary value whatsoever, while another sold for over forty thousand dollars…41,940.63 in U.S. dollars to be exact, including the buyers’ premium and converted from euros using that day’s exchange rate.

The officially worthless socks were part of the estate of a photographer known as Chim…the pseudonym of David Seymour. Visiting an exposition of his work in Brussels, we learned that David Seymour (1911-1956) was born Dawid Szymin in Poland and took up photography while studying in Paris. His early photo journalism career resulted in many poignant images, including scenes of the Spanish civil war and a series featuring children displaced by the ravages of that and other wars. Later, as an American citizen, he co-founded the Magnum photo agency and was soon sought after for portrait work…such as this one of Audrey Hepburn on the set of the movie Funny Face…

The image below was also shot during the filming of Funny Face…
…it shows the photographer Richard Avedon coaching Fred Astaire on how to be convincing in his movie role as a photographer.

The socks in this exposition were featured on a list that detailed the belongings left behind in Chim’s hotel room after he was killed while covering the armistice of the Suez War…

Quite a contrast from these socks…which are really more like silk stockings or tights…Here’s where provenance comes into play…provenance in the expanded sense that means being connected with a famous previous owner. For these silk stockings were worn by none other than Napoléon Bonaparte while on exile on the island of Saint Helena. Discolored and with a few stains here and there, they also sported an embroidered crowned “N”.

I should hope so for over forty thousand dollars!

The stockings were in an auction that we stumbled upon while visiting Fontainebleau, Napoléon’s favorite château…a special auction consisting of items that were related in some manner to the Emperor…either personally, as in the case of the stockings, or decorative items made during the period of his reign up to that of his nephew (and first wife’s grandson), Napoléon III.

We took some photographs so you could “join” us…
During the preview, the auction room was set up in several vignettes…this one featured a table with a base that had been fashioned from candelabra said to have been owned by Maréchal Ney…a hero of the Napoleonic Wars. Despite being a made up piece, the hint of provenance pushed its final hammer price to $36,907.75.

The bidding was fast and furious…

…and the results were often mind-boggling… …an Empire bed that was too short for anyone in our family to sleep in comfortably sold for $58,716.88…

… a wool and silk Aubusson tapestry of Napoléon I was a mere $23,486.75…and eight plates previously owned by Napoléon’s brother, Jérôme, King of Westphalia…
…were a downright bargain at $5,032.88. A pewter fork with a bent tine that had been used in the kitchens of the Tuileries Palace…
…had an estimate of 600-800 euros, but the bidding did not meet its reserve price.

And then there were the chairs…$36,907.75 for this one… …described in the auction catalog as having upholstery that was usagée or worn…

…or this one…
…where the pitiful state of the upholstery wasn’t even mentioned…and it sold for $41,940.63!

And to think that I bothered to make the effort to try to train Jean-Pierre to use his scratching post…

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Happy New Year 2011!

2010-12-31T16:47:00.001-08:00

New Year’s greetings in Brittany involves a generous pouring of cidre…cider…and a toast wishing everyone a Bloazevh Mat. The Welsh call their celebration Calennig and give gifts of bread and cheese. The Scots have Hogmanay and First Footing…after midnight on the 31st of December, it is hoped that the first person to cross a Scot’s threshold will have dark hair…a throwback to when those dastardly, red-headed Vikings were marauding about the countryside. It’s also hoped that this tall, dark visitor will be bringing along a wee bit of whiskey…is it any wonder that the holiday extends through the second of January in Scotland?

Like the wearing of the green on Saint Patrick’s Day, colors have their part as well…location makes a difference…in some countries it is the custom to wear red or yellow underwear to herald in the New Year in order to assure happiness and/or good fortune…while white is the color of choice in Brazil.

In Japan, the New Year begins with a thorough house cleaning. Buddhist temples sound their gong 108 times at midnight…signifying the cleansing of the 108 sins said to lurk within the mind of Man. In Spain and many Latin American countries, the celebration of the arrival of the New Year involves twelve grapes…grapes that are to be eaten one at a time with each tolling of the bell that strikes midnight. I tried it and I must say that it’s not easy to quickly swallow the twelve grapes from one hand while holding a glass of champagne in the other hand…not to mention having to do this while a husband is waiting for his kiss…

So, as I sit in my yellow underwear munching grapes, I raise my glass of champagne and wish you a 2011 that is filled with good health, happiness, and joy!

Note: I should have thought of using these wonderful vintage zinc grape clusters as place cards for our New Year’s table!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Season’s Greetings!

2010-12-25T10:21:00.001-08:00

From our hearth… …to yours…

We wish you Happy Holidays!

A Spoonful of Research

2010-12-21T14:37:00.001-08:00

For me, one of the more enjoyable aspects of being an antiques dealer is the process of researching our new-found treasures. It’s like being a detective in the middle of a never-ending mystery story. For example, we recently found this great vintage spoon. Copper, fourteen inches long, and definitely well-loved…it had been silvered or tinned at one time, but barely a trace remained.

It had two separate bowls sharing the same center portion and was impressed with the maker’s mark for Jacquotot et Dehillerin located at 130 rue de Grenelle in Paris.

We found it at an outdoor brocante market in Brittany…I asked the vendor if he knew the specific purpose of this type of utensil…I assumed it was for measuring something or other as the two bowls were of slightly different sizes. The vendor said it was for putting eggs in the marmite or pot…he explained that different sized eggs required a different side of the spoon for lowering them into the pot. This seemed a wee bit far-fetched, but we loved it anyway and, thus, it had to be ours.

Back in Paris, the research process begins. Jacquotot we hadn’t heard of before, but some sleuthing on the internet came up with a rave review of the Jacquotot establishment that gave its location as 77 rue Damesme in the thirteenth arrondissement of Paris. Off we went to check it out…unfortunately, many things online are not dated and it turned out that we were a bit too late and Jacquotot was no longer…we figured that we must have been about five years too late, because now there was a modern building in its place.

But we were all too familiar with Dehillerin… …E. Dehillerin to be precise…a fabulous cooking equipment store in central Paris. One of the oldest…if not the oldest…cooking store in Paris. We’ve been there many times…marveling at the shelves full of cooking paraphernalia.
The store has been on rue Coquillière in the first arrondissement since 1820 and has amassed just about everything one could imagine in the way of matériel de cuisine.
Floor to ceiling…everything one could possibly want or need…and in great quantities…
…countless fouets (whisks) of every size…
…and even more rings for containing one’s tartes!

So, spoon in hand, we walk over to Dehillerin…
…where we spy none other than Monsieur Dehillerin busy supervising a delivery as we approach the store…he’s the boss and a direct descendent of the founder of the company…that’s him left of center with the grey sweater and slacks and matching hair. Surely he will know the purpose of our mystery spoon. Once inside, we pull out our treasure and ask one of the clerks who immediately exclaims ”hien…c’est très vieille la cuillère”. The other clerks began to gather around…”oui, c’est très vieille”…everyone agreeing that it was very old.

But what was its purpose? Ah, for that I was directed to ask Monsieur Dehillerin himself…”C’est très vieille la cuillière” was again pronounced and after caressing it a bit, he proposed that perhaps it was for poser sur le plat…a serving spoon intended to make sure that portions were precise.

Once outside the store, we looked at each other and thought that that didn’t quite make sense as wouldn’t the person using the spoon end up getting the food all over themselves instead of on le plat? But then again…this was the opinion of Monsieur Dehillerin who was brought up on these things…and he must know that the French cooks in the early 1800s were far more adept than I!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

§%@&{#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!…

2010-12-15T04:31:00.001-08:00

The Scream by Edvard Munch (1863-1944)

§%@&{#!!!!!!!!!!….That’s exactly what I screamed Monday morning when I went to upload the second posting to my brand new blog. In fact, I’m sure I looked exactly like the central figure in Edvard Munch’s famous Expressionist painting

After working perfectly fine the day before, when I went to turn on our computer, it wouldn’t start…no amount of cajoling or fiddling was going to get it to open and believe me, we tried everything. The hard drive has been officially pronounced as being deader than a door nail and with it went four future postings that I had jealously hoarded.

So now it’s back to square one. This spare computer is not much more than a door stop and isn’t capable of accessing much of anything…so any photo processing is on hold…but with any luck, I’ll be up and running by next week!

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com

Oh, Darling…wherever did you find it?

2010-12-10T09:57:00.001-08:00

We are often asked that very question…a client sees one of our treasures and wants to know how or where we found it.

We sell unique and unusual vintage items and, thus, the answer is not always what the client would suppose.

Case in point:

We’re exhibiting at a lah-dee-dah antiques show in a chi-chi area and the question comes up about a gorgeous French wall cabinet we are offering…hand-carved walnut from the 1880s with original glass and provinçal fabric lining. It’s a beauty.

The facts:

We were in the Brittany region of northwestern France, searching for a brocante market that I had seen advertised on a light post…a typical scenario as small country markets are generally promoted in church bulletins, on light posts, and other such low-key manners. At least I was pretty sure the notice was about a brocante market. The unprofessional, hand-written sign said truc et puce. The word “puce” in French means “flea”…but has come to mean “flea market” in antiquing circles, and “truc” is slang for “truck” or “thingamajig” or “barter”.

I wasn’t really sure exactly what was in store, but it wasn’t too far of a journey…so off we went!

It wasn’t long before we came across a road barrier…men working…along with signs indicating that we needed to take a detour. What the signs failed to mention was that the detour was going to take us kilometer after kilometer out into the countryside…so far that we became hopelessly lost and well beyond the area shown on our trusty map…

…this is in the pre-GPS days, and even if we had it at the time, I suspect GPS would not have been very useful in this particular situation.

Finally after a couple of hours, we arrived at the designated site of the truc et puce. At first, I’m dismayed to see nothing but trucks. Oh no, we drove all this way only to find one of those impromptu used vehicle lots…a possibility that had lurked in the deep recesses of my brain as I knew that, tax-wise, selling a used vehicle in France involved some creativity. How frustrating to have driven all this way and there’s no antiques market!

Hours wasted…we don’t have a truck with which we want to barter and, worse yet, I have to pee.

But wait…one of us is quite tall and he spots a distant field way out between a row of trees. It’s a hay field that had been freshly mowed and with joy, we realize that spread out in the field are blankets strewn with unique treasures that the locals have put out to sell.

To get to those blankets, we have to flog our way through veil after veil of webs spun by the newly-displaced spiders that had just hours before been residing in the field and the only rest room “facility” is an old, abandoned car fender…in plain view of the market participants and showing obvious signs of having been well-frequented.

So…the question was “Wherever did you find it?”

The answer: Brittany

Stay tuned for more behind the scenes adventures of The Meadows Collection…or check out the results at www.meadowscollection.com