Stock – Page 15 – Moorabool Antique Galleries

Posted on 25/02/202028/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

A Victorious Italian Madonna, dated 1619

A fascinating fresh item at Moorabool is this tinglaze plaque – inscribed & dated ‘Della Vittoria / 1619’. It depicts a Madonna and Child, with her arm supporting a spear/staff from which flutters a banner with a cross.

A depiction of a crowned Madonna & Child, set in a wall in the village of Sommana, north of Naples.

These plaques are a common sight in the Mediterranean countries, in shrines on country roads and on building facades in the towns. Private houses have them inside their walls as a sort of ‘private chapel’.
Some where no doubt painted in oils, but the tinglaze pottery panels were the perfect medium for exterior display. They have lasted exposed to the elements for hundreds of years, the clay strong & well fired and the pigments unfading.

A typical Italian roadside shrine with a Madonna image.

Their purpose was a simple dedication of faith. Roadside shrines generally appear at a place of spiritual significance for the locals, and a colourful plaque would act as a vivid reminder of that significance to all who passed. Some are public declarations of perceived miracles, a thank-you for the protection from some tragedy.

In Deruta, the city of potters, the various churches and chapels are full of these plaques, commissioned and dedicated by individuals who were keen to record their own miracles and faith; there’s a builder falling from a building, a horse tipping upside down and throwing his rider, and updated versions incorporating cars crashing!

In Castelli, the Church of San Donato has a roof of dedication plaques from the early 17th century

A unique ceiling filled with tile panels can be seen in the Church of San Donato, Castelli, with a vast variety beginning with many dated examples in the early 17th century. It is in this context our example was made; being dated is a great start, but where was it made – and why?

This title is interesting: ‘Della Vittoria’ translates as ‘Our Lady of Victories’, a title given to the Madonna in the context of a military victory. This image of Mary militarised is quite a rarity – she’s usually shown very differently, a merciful mother rather than a militant one.

The inscription on our plaque; the lower left corner is a restoration, with just the edge of the D surviving; the space at far left may have contained an ‘M’ as an abbreviation of ‘Madonna’.

The famous ‘Madonna della Vittoria’ by Andrea Mantegna, 1495-6, originally in Mantua Italy, but ‘borrowed’ by Napoleon on his rampage in 1797 and never given back….. now in the Louvre, Paris.

Interestingly, ‘Madonna della Vittoria’ is the title of a fabulous work by Andrea Mantegna, now in the Louvre. This was commissioned by Francesco II Gonzaga, the ruler of the city of Mantua and the leader of the Italian League’s resistance to Charles VIII of France’s incursion into Italy in the late 16th century. He had fought to a stand-still victory at the battle of Fornovo in July 1495; one year later, the newly commissioned painting by the court artist Mantegna was carried into the newly built Santa Maria della Vittoria, commemorating Mary’s help in the historic victory. It now hangs in the Louvre, having been souvenired by Napoleon during his domination of Italy in the late 18th century!

Following this train of thought, the plaque in question was perhaps another celebration of a victory; however, while 1619 is within the timeframe of the ’30 years war’, (1618-48) the first decade was a series of conflicts in Northern Europe, not relating to Italy. The plaque is therefore best described as a dedication or shrine image, rather than an example commemorating an event – the date 1619 being the year of dedication.

The inspiration for the unusual image is one of two things; either a creation of an unknown artist on the pottery workshop, direct from his imagination – or perhaps it is a copy of an elegant work depicting a militaristic Madonna which has not survived the tides of war that have swept over Europe ever since this plaque’s creation in 1619; rather ironic!

See this interesting item here >>

Posted on 19/02/202028/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Delft….and delft. What’s the difference?

They are both tinglaze- but did you know there is a difference between ‘Delft’ and ‘delft’…. ?

‘Tinglaze’ describes the pottery products with a thick lead glaze containing an opaque white made from the oxide of tin. The result is the body of coarse buff-coloured pottery is covered with a pleasing glossy white, similar to porcelain. When decorated with colours, the results could be spectacular – but unlike the enamels on porcelain, the colours on tinglaze embed themselves into the thick tin oxide /lead glaze, giving them a distinct appearance we sometimes refer to as ‘inglaze’. This is a quick, single-pass process, as the colours soak into the chalk-like surface, with no room for correction; this is the basis for the ‘painterly’ spontaneous style seen in the decoration of tinglaze Delftwares.
The above print shows the glazing process, with a pile of biscuit-fired plates being dipped into a huge vat of lead & tin oxide glaze…. off to the right the men are probably putting decoration onto the results. From here it would go into a kiln for a second time, fixing the glaze and the decoration into a glass-like surface over the pottery body – often very obvious in an antique piece as it is prone to chipping and revealing the body beneath.
*Illustration from a 1794 Dutch publication on trades by Gerrit Paape.*

The blue & white decorated pottery with tinglaze surface is a familiar sight in the Antiques world, instantly recognisable as ‘Delft’. This name comes from the city in Holland where vast quantities were made and exported from the 17th century.

Dutch Delft vases, once display pieces in groups like this;
Circa 1730-60. see them here >>

One of the export markets was England. The fashion in England for the blue & white had been well established by the importing of Chinese porcelains, and this is obvious when you look at the styles produced; some are direct copies of Chinese patterns.

Left is English Pottery, right is Chinese Porcelain, all mid 18th century
Left is English Pottery, right is Chinese Porcelain, all mid 18th century

Chinese Porcelain c.1690 | Dutch Delft Pottery c.1730 | Liverpool Porcelain c.1760 | Bow Porcelain c.1760 |

But England of course already had a long history of pottery manufacturing, with ample clay to make their own. While the imported Dutch Delft was a less expensive option to imported Chinese Porcelain, it was only natural that the enterprising English potters imitated the Dutch, and produced their own tin-glazed pottery.

A large London Delft charger, circa 1760
see on website >>

Attribution is difficult at times – we find a number of manufacturers which are virtually impossible to separate – the esteemed Victoria & Albert Museum in London itself constantly describes pieces as ‘London or Bristol’….. We can’t just go by the decoration, as movement of artists to different firms is well documented – including to & from from Holland. The body can be a help – although once again, there is much trade in clays both in England and even across the channel! At times, an attribution can only be made to a country: English or Dutch? And this leads to a problem, with the name ‘Delft’ describing a pottery type, not an origin. The main division needed is the Dutch from the English, and so a subtle method has been devised:

We us ‘Delft’ with a capital D for Dutch –
and ‘delft’ in lowercase for English products!

1695 ‘Queen Mary’ Dutch Delft charger in the Rosenberg Reference Collection, Geelong.

Of course England not only imported Dutch Delft – they imported their new King & Queen with the regents William & Mary (1689-1702). These Dutch monarchs brought with them close connections with Holland, and it is no coincidence that the English delft productions start appearing in volume in this late 17th century period. This was a time of great prosperity for the English, and while the Continent had Holland to supply their tin-glaze needs, the English delft works were kept very busy supplying local needs – and found a ready market in the distant American colonies. London was an early producer, followed by Bristol, Liverpool, Belfast and Glasgow. All of these were trading ports eager for the overseas market, and English delft is often found in American archaeological sites of the period. It was written at the time that in Liverpool, ‘every merchant was concerned in a pot house made of delf’.

A late piece of English delft, this vessel is London – or Liverpool (!) – and an example can be dated to post-1800 by the name of the Soy merchant who had their name promoted on it – which also gives evidence of its usage; a soy vessel! The shape in an earlier 18th or 17th century context would be a drinking mug at a tavern.
See this item here >>

Delftware found a perfect niche market in the lower-middle strata of society of the time; while Chinese porcelain was superior, it was also expensive. Local porcelain had not yet commenced, and while the Germans and French were producing porcelain from the early 18th century, it was only for those of ‘great means’ – out of reach for most people. Delft had the same look for a fraction the price. The age of English delft lasts from the late-17th century until the mid-18th, when a combination of local porcelain production (Bow, Chelsea, Worcester….) and over the next few decades, the increasing volume/decreasing price of imported Chinese porcelain reduces the demand for the cheaper local products, and all manufacturers quickly disappear by the start of the 19th century.

A rare English delft ‘Puzzle Jug’ – the puzzle being how on earth do you drink from it with those holes! (hint: there is a hole halfway down the inside of the handle visible here also…. a future blog post will explain all!)
This has proven to be a difficult piece to date – the style picks up elements of 17th/early 18th century Chinoiserie pieces, and they are known from that period – but another example in the collection of Mr & Mrs Morgan, illustrated in ‘Dated English Delftware’ (Lipski & Archer 1985, p231, #108) is the same decoration, and dated 1729. A large number of English delft pieces bear dates, allowing a terrifically useful chronology to be put together. When the name of an individual, or an event commemoration is included, it also allows a place of manufacture to be established. This piece doesn’t, and so it is ‘London or Liverpool’ and circa 1730.
See this item here >>

Moorabool has some superb pieces of delft – and Delft – in stock at the moment – as well as the other Continental equivalent products of Faience (France), Fayence (Germany) and Maiolica (Italy) – all basically the same soft earthenware body hidden beneath a thick glaze filled with white tin oxide… but they’re a good topic for another post!

See our latest Delft and delft here >>
See our total stock of tinglaze wares here>>

These, plus more to come, were part of our Premium Fresh Stock in February 2020 >>

Posted on 05/02/202028/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

17th Century Cutlery

Solid silver miniature sculptures…..

Rarely seen, these solid silver handles are sculptural works of art. They are Dutch, date to the mid-17th century, and have a fascinating lineage we can trace back to Renaissance Italy and the collections of the Dutch master Rembrandt himself.

St George & the Dragon… see it here>>

“Fingers were made before Forks” is an old English saying often used to justify eating with one’s fingers. It’s also the truth – for most people. When you look at the art of the middle ages, you’ll often see the peasants in a Brugel tavern scene just shoving the food in.

Detail from painting by PIETER BRUEGHEL III (1589-1634) – knives, but no forks…..

The rich, however, had an advantage: knives. These expensive accessories were a luxury item, and allowed one to keep ones fingers unsoiled while eating…. simply chop it, then stab the morsel with the pointy end, and use this handy device to get it to your mouth. Revolutionary!
Even more luxurious and high-tech was the fork.

English silver handled fork, William & Mary period, circa 1695.
See it here >>

St. Peter Damian, an 11th century Benedictine monk, criticized a Byzantine-born Venetian princess for her extravagance :
“…such was the luxury of her habits … she deigned not to touch her food with her fingers, but would command her eunuchs to cut it up into small pieces, which she would impale on a certain golden instrument with two prongs and thus carry to her mouth.”
Shocking indeed!

English Silver knife & fork,
curiously by a cutler named ‘SPOON’ – circa 1700. See them here>>

A fork, when used with a knife, allowed a rhythm to eating, with both hands occupied – very civilised indeed, but only for those with the means. It wasn’t until the 18th and 19th centuries, and the age of mass production, that cutlery as we know it becomes an everyday item for all society.

Dating to the ‘privilege period’ is the collection of solid-silver handled cutlery pieces we recently discovered in a Melbourne collection. Examine the photos – when no blade is visible, they are nothing short of sculpture. Small-scale 360-degree sculptures in the Baroque manner, and obviously intended to impress. There were perfectly functional cutlery shapes, also in luxurious materials such as ivory available at the same time- but to have your knife and fork with St George slaying the Dragon on it was a whole other level…..

Moorabool’s 17th century Dutch silver ‘figural’ cutlery handles.

‘Charity’ handle, Dutch 17th century
See it here >>

Their design is ancient looking, medieval or Middle Ages. The figure of ‘Charity’ could well be a Roman goddess from 2,000 years ago! So where does their design originate?

Unsurprisingly, there’s a link to the Classical world, as the Italian Renaissance artists drew much inspiration from the classical past that surrounded them. Of note here is Francesco de’Rossi, il Salviati (1510-1563), an Italian artist of great merit. His designs for luxury goods are well known due to original sketches being treasured and replicated extensively, engraved and copied and used as inspiration by artisans ever since.

Salvati’s knife handle designs of the mid-16th century, engraved by Cherubino Alberti in the early 17th century.

Rembrandt’s version of Salviati’s original, done while in his possession circa 1620

The Dutch connection comes through the fascination the Low Countries had with the Classical past. Italy was a destination for anyone seeking Culture, and back in Holland, designs seen abroad were appreciated and incorporated. Artists often did the ‘Grand Tour’, and collections contained drawings and paintings of the results. Over time, these were assimilated by artists back in Holland, even if they never went to Italy themselves…..
One such artist was Rembrandt – and amongst his drawings are a remarkable series of Designs for Knife Handles. When we consider where & when he operated, we have an intriguing link to the Dutch great master – he had seen such handles, and owned some Salviati sketches of them, and created his own studies in pen & wash. This shows the great interest in these luxurious Baroque pieces from Italy – and naturally the Dutch craftsmen were able to create something to satisfy this curiosity, in the form of Ivory and Silver handles.

The series of handles we have at Moorabool are complete with their original fittings – three with knife blades and one with a fork. These are very helpful in dating the pieces.
First, the fork is the early 2-prong form. This appears in the earliest examples of the 15th century, and disappears in the early 18th century.

The shape of the knife is quite distinctive, having a straight blade and a tip with a sudden taper at the end. While this is a very early Continental form, appearing in Italian pieces from the 15th century, it also appears in Dutch examples of the 17th century, before other styles take hold.

These rarities are the feature pieces of our current collection of mostly English cutlery, beginning in the 17th century and continuing into the 18th and 19th. But none have the flamboyance of these silver handles…. imagine the interesting person they must have belonged to!

See our Cutlery Collection here >>

Posted on 21/01/202028/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Zangzhou Ceramics, Ming Dynasty

Formerly known as Swatow Wares….

A selection of Zangzhou pieces, either from the Binh Thuan wreck (1608) or of the exact type recovered from it in 2002.

Zangzhou (Changchow) is a major production centre for this type of distinct porcelain body, and appears to have been focused on the export market to South-East Asia in the 16th-17th century. Older literature discusses them as ‘Swatow’ or ‘Provincial’ Ming, but excavations in the 1950’s in Fujian Provence located numerous ceramic production centres, with Zangzhou on the Jiulong River giving the name to this category of ceramics.

The wares are varied, with blue & white, celadon, and polychrome enamels all appearing. The best way to examine the product is through the Binh Thuan Shipwreck, which was filled with tens of thousands of pieces from this source. This ship went down in circa 1608, and contained a large number of blue & white pieces, as well as enamelled wares and pieces with blue underglaze and enamelled colours overglaze. This rarely survives in good condition as it is vulnerable to wear, especially in the context of a shipwreck….

Fragile onlgaze colours on Zangzhou porcelain – the bowls at the back were once decorated like the rare example in the foreground, all from the Binh Thuan Shipwreck (1608), but seawater wears it off…. the example at the right has never been under the sea.

Sharp pebbles on the base of Zangzhou wares were to stop it sticking to the kiln during firing. Very dangerous on polished surfaces!

One way to recognise this product is through the firing technique; dishes & bowls were placed onto rough granitic sand, which allowed the pot to be safely removed from the kiln without sticking. In the shipwreck examples, this still survives in its original extent; in pieces that made it to market, this has been carefully removed prior to sale as it is extremely sharp!

See our Ming Ceramics here >>

Posted on 28/05/201928/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Machin & Potts… a detective tale

There are two pottery jugs in this week’s ‘Fresh’, sourced from the same amazing collection of early 19th Century pottery & porcelain as all the similar pieces we have released recently. Our research team had been working overtime (thanks John!) and poured through every book in the library to help identify the vast number of items that have come in.

This jug has a very similar example illustrated in the book ‘British Jugs’, marked for a Staffordshire company called Goodwin. Bridgewood & Harris. Case closed, maker identified…? not so fast!

There’s another example, in our collection, which bears an uncanny resemblance, although in porcelain rather than in pottery. Many manufacturers made the same shape in both bodies, the pottery being much cheaper to make, and therefore to sell, than the porcelain. This other example is from the small firm of Machin & Potts, which has until recently had very little documentation. Fortunately two collectors, Bill Thom and Phillip Miller, spent a good deal of time collecting and researching the firm, and published the definitive book in 2008. This exact same porcelain jug is in the book, identified by the unique dedication to a certain ‘R.W. KIRKBY of THRENTHAM HALL’.

This leads to an interesting detective trail of identification, involving a ladder, a beehive, a basket, several farm implements and a hen & rooster!

In the above image, you see the first clue; the porcelain jug. The illustration above reveals it to be the exact same piece of marked Machin. Below this (hidden by our jug) is another example with a pattern no. that conforms with known Machin teawares. You can see the tip of the handle though the handle-hole of our jug – it is an exact version of the smaller jug we have, shown to the right in the above photo. This jug has the amazing ‘scrap’ printed decoration, and a distinct pink lustre rim – both appear on the illustrated jug, giving us a close linkage; the small jug we have is also now attributable to Machin.

Then comes the ‘big one’ – the large jug with ‘scrap’ decoration. Its form is the ‘Dutch shape’ , a perfectly normal & popular shape that is very difficult to identify… usually. In this case, we have the prints, and a side-by-side comparison of the same items proves most interesting…. basically, they’re not just ‘similar’, they are identical, right down to the little flaws in the printing plate that have been replicated. Note- in the photos there is some distortion due to the curved surface of the jugs.

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The person who printed the smaller jug used the exact same printing plate as the larger jug, therefore most probably worked at the same factory:

Machin!

Footnote: Thom & Miller note “other makers including Goodwin, Bridgwood and Harris … made very close versions to this shape” – we trust the above identification of the prints used justifies our attribution!

See all our Machin offerings, including these jugs, here >>

Posted on 02/05/201822/08/2020 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Sir John Franklin portrait discovery, c.1828

An exciting find at Moorabool is this portrait silhouette of Sir John Franklin.

His name is very familiar in Tasmania; as stated on the back of this newly discovered portrait, he was Governor there 1837-43, and his name appears across the state with a town on the Huon River, and a major river which narrowly avoided being dammed, an electorate, plus his splendid statue in the middle of a fountain in Hobart.

This silhouette is a majorly important piece, being a very personal depiction for which he would have had to sit; a frontal painted portrait could be mocked up from a printed image, and often was of famous people (for example Napoleon). However, a profile must be drawn from life, and this portrait has a secret beneath the image in the form of an original ‘trade card’ for the artist; in this case, George Atkinson, ‘Profilist to His Majesty’ (George III) at no. 40 Old Steine, Brighton. What is exciting about finding the trade card is it allows us to date the piece to 1822 -1828, the years he operated out of that address.
During this time, Sir John must have visited and sat for his profile to be taken. Not for long – George Atkinson prided himself in his speed, advertising a sitting took ‘less than one minute’. One can imagine Sir John dropping in, dressed in his Navy uniform, before striding out a minute later to take the airs on the promenade at Brighton!
These portraits were the equivalent of a studio photograph today. Atkinson charged 10s 6d for a detailed profile, a not so insignificant amount. So who did he have a portrait done for – to whom was this portrait gifted?
A look at his activities 1822-28 provide the most likely answer. He was quite an active Navy officer, spending some time exploring the Arctic reaches above Canada, but still found time to marry in 1823 to a Romantic poet named Eleanor Porden. They had a child in 1824; she died in 1825. He was off on another Arctic expedition shortly after, returning to England in 1827. Was it at this time he visited Brighton, for a little R&R? Perhaps having a portrait done to give to a special friend of his late wife, Jane Griffin…. and perhaps it worked, as they were soon married, in November 1828. She was the fascinating strong-willed ‘Lady Franklin’, who came to Tasmania in 1836 and is considered by some to have been the driving force behind Franklin’s time as Governor. This portrait came from a local Victorian source, and perhaps came to Australia with The Franklins in 1836, only to be left behind in 1843 when they returned to England.

Internationally, Franklin has recently been of increasing interest due to his exploits after he left his position in Tasmania. This interest stems from the tragedy of his final adventure, his quest for a North-West passage through the Arctic ice above the American continent, a short-cut to the Pacific ocean that would have had great consequences for trade – if it had existed at the time. Ironically, with ‘global warming’ ships have recently been able to pioneer this northern route between the oceans – but when Sir John attempted it in 1845, he found no way forward. No way back either… surrounded by thick sea ice, he and his two ships on the expedition, Erebus and Terror were stuck. They were well equipped for such an incident, but a decision was made to try and walk out; all men and their commander disappeared in the Arctic wilderness, along with the ships. They had three years worth of provisions, but once that time was up the British Admiralty offered a £20,000 reward for resolution. Expeditions were mounted, but only a few graves and cryptic clues were found; Sir John Franklin and his 128 men had perished.

The recent interest came as a result of the excited announcement from Parks Canada in 2014 – they had discovered the wreck of Erebus. Two years later, their search revealed the Terror. Both are in relatively shallow and accessible waters, and dives on them have been nothing short of sensational; the state of preservation in the low temperatures is superb.

An announcement in April 2018 by the British Government has resulted in the British ‘gifting’ the remains to Canada; an exciting future awaits as plans are proposed to recover items from these incredibly important ships – indeed, perhaps even the ships themselves!

We are thrilled to have discovered this previously unknown silhouette portrait of Rear-Admiral Sir John Franklin.

POA

See the item in our stock here >>

Posted on 24/04/2018 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Lest We Forget: Anzac memories

Today is an important one in Australia; the 25th of April 1915 was a ‘coming of age’, the first military action as an independent dominion. While the troops of the young nation didn’t achieve what they set out to do, and 8,709 didn’t return, it resulted in a sense of pride in those who did return with tales of valor and mateship. Even in the midst of the military disaster it turned out to be, a sense of being ‘Australian’ arose. Although the last of the troops who served at Gallipoli have passed on, all around Australia the younger generations gather at dawn, remembering the sacrifice and bravery of past generations.

Dyson Anzac Print 1927 — Will Dyson ‘A Voice from Anzac’ Print 1927 -see it here>

This image by Will Dyson, the first official War Artist for Australia, illustrates the sentiment 12 years later; two soldiers in full kit sit by the sea, but are just ghosts on closer examination with the coastline visible through their bodies. The caption reads “Funny thing Bill- I keep thinking I hear men marching!” – the memories of those who didn’t return are still sharp. This cartoon appeared in the Herald on Anzac day in 1927, and proved to be so popular another print run was ordered, on better quality paper and in a limited number. These ended up in various RSL clubs around the country, and it was perhaps in one of these that the collection of signatures along the lower edge were collected. While it has Dyson’s own pencilled signature, the others are unexpected and remarkable: they are all winners of the Victoria Cross in WWI, with one exception: Lieutenant General Sir John Monash. It is an apparently unique tribute to the Gallipoli spirit, put together by soldiers who were there.

Dyson Anzac Print signatures – Will Dyson, A Jacka W Dunstan

Will Dyson was born in 1880 near Ballarat, and was self-taught as an artist. He obtained work with various magazines as a satyrical illustrator, and became good friends with Norman Lindsay, marrying his sister Ruby. He spent the war years in England, and volunteered his skills to the Australian Imperial Forces “to interpret in a series of drawings, for national preservation, the sentiments and special Australian characteristics of our Army”. In this capacity he travelled to the Western Front in 1916, and was appointed the first official war artist in 1917. He was wounded twice as he proceeded with the troops, recording a very human side of the great conflict. He returned to Melbourne in 1925 where he worked at the Herald. During this time he produced the following print (1927) , and returned to London in 1930 where in died in 1938.

The original drawing in the Australian War Memorial, Canberra. Moorabool is pleased to offer the above work.

Simpsom & his Donkey - Peter Corlett 1988 — Simpson & his Donkey – Peter Corlett 1988

Also in the Australian War Museum is another dramatic depiction of Australian Anzac spirit, the life-size bronze ‘Simpson and his donkey’, by ‘Peter Corlett (1944 -). This work was commissioned by the Government, and installed on Anzac Day 1988 at the front of the War Memorial in Canberra. At the same time, 12 smaller versions were made & sold, and Moorabool currently has one of these.

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John Simpson Kirkpatrick was actually a British merchant sailor who jumped ship to enlisted in Fremantle, using his middle name. On the first day of his arrival at Gallipoli as a stretcher bearer, he found an abandoned donkey he named

Duffy. The donkey helped Simpson carry the wounded who were still able to ride. This grainy photo was the inspiration for the legend, showing a wounded soldier being assisted by Simson down to the beach for evacuation to the hospital ships moored offshore.

We are honoured to have these reminders of the struggles that helped form Australia. I’ll finish with a group of prints that give a unique ‘Australian’ image to the warfare of WWI 100 years ago:

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Posted on 24/04/2018 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

A Ming Dynasty Dragon roof tile, 16th – 17th century

A fresh item to Moorabool is this quirky Ming Dynasty roof tile figure. As the name suggests, these were part of the roof decoration on Chinese buildings.

Many different ‘characters’ appear as roof tile figures, each with a symbolic purpose. Our Dragon is actually a water dragon, and he would have been the chief character in a whole line of little figures down the crest of the roof junction. He was given this position due to his ‘wet’ nature: he would ensure protection from fire for the wooden building beneath.

A very familiar installation of a similar dragon is in the Forbidden City in Beijing. On the roof of the Hall of Supreme Harmony (circa 1406) you will see 10 small figures (the more figures, the more important the building) – and at their top, a larger dragon – complete with the same toothy grin as our example. He’s done a good job as fire warden, protecting the structure for the past 400 years…. Scattered around the acres of other buildings in the complex are numerous other examples of the same.

What’s interesting are their intact ‘horns’, missing from ours. Examine our head and you will see the two holes they were once inserted into.

Another pair reside in the Victoria & Albert Museum, SouthKensington (London). Their pair entered the collection in 1912, and could well be from the same building as ours – all the moulded details are identical, as is the glaze, the only differences being due to the inscribing of details.

One of a pair in the Victoria & Albert Museum, London

See our toothy character here >>

Posted on 15/04/201819/04/2018 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

A scroll with a tale; an Ethiopian Coptic Scroll brought back from the Abyssinia Expedition, 1868

An interesting recent arrival at Moorabool is literally Magic…..

EthiopianScroll — The Ethiopian Magic Scroll, 19th century or earlier

This curious artefact came from an elderly local lady, who challenged me: ‘I bet you don’t know what this is’ and was amazed at my guess of an Ethiopian magic scroll. I had never held one, but knew of them. She went on to explain how an ancestor had taken part in the Abyssinia Expedition and brought it back with him in a tin. The family had kept it as a curio; now she was the last of her family, with no-one to pass it on to.

The ancestor was a British Army captain, and was one of the 13,000 British and Indian soldiers involved in a campaign to Ethiopia in the 1860’s. Ethiopia, then known as Abyssinia, was a mythical place, the home of the Queen of Sheba from biblical days, and the mythical Prester John in the middle ages. Legend tells of a son being born from the meeting of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, Menelik. Certainly Christianity spread there very early, by the 4th century AD. Their first bishop was consecrated in Alexandria, and it is the Egyptian Coptic version of Christianity which survived until the present day in the remote highlands, despite waves of Muslim settlers along the coasts.

The Abyssinia Expedition has been described as “one of the most expensive affairs of honour in history”. The honor of course was the British Empire’s. They were caught up in a difficult situation in a far-off foreign land; a local ruler, Tewodro, had sought help from the powers of the day to consolidate his power over present-day Ethiopia – in particular, he was after technology, realising that modern weapons would swiftly defeat his tribal competitors. He tried Russia, Prussia, Austria, the French, and the English. Queen Victoria sent

him a silver pistol, but no help. Disgruntled by lack of interest in his campaign, he snatched a visiting missionary; when a party set out to seek his release, they were captured as well, and imprisoned in his fortress of Magdala, deep in the Ethiopian highlands. Anyone sent to negotiate was added to his hostages, including the British consul: he ended up with dozens of prisoners.

Queen Victoria had had enough; the British Empire had been mocked! She announced the decision to rescue the hostages on 21st August 1867. While similar hostage rescues in our present age often include helicopters and quick extractions from hostile lands, for the Victorians it was a massive effort. Sir Robert Napier led the expedition, which landed in the Gulf of Zula in December 1867. Magdala was only 640km away, but it was a waterless hostile badland, and took 3 months of marching. Imagine, 13,000 soldiers with 26,000 helpers to look after them using 40,000 animals…. including 44 Indian elephants to carry the large cannon!

Once there, action was swiftly over. Tewodro’s troops caught the British by surprise on a platteau, and swarmed down from their hilltop positions; the well trained British quickly responded, with the inevitable massacre of the tribal attackers, many with just spears agains the superior British guns. A few days later they were able to bombard the fortress, blow the gates, and swiftly took over. On entering the last stronghold, they found Tewodro had taken his own life – with the silver pistol given as a gift by Queen Victoria!

The soldiers destroyed the stronghold, setting it on fire. The Christian Coptic church was looted, with large gold & silver crosses being taken along with many religious works – including scrolls such as the one we are discussing. They were regarded by the Victorians as ‘magic scrolls’, evidence of superstition and ‘whitchcraft’, and therefore worthy of a place in any Cabinet of Curios.

For the Ethiopians, they were believed to hold protective and healing powers, and were carried by the owner at all times. These were inscribed in ‘Geez’, the liturgical language of the church, with prayers, spells and/or charms which offered protection to their specific owner – to undo spells, restore health, combat sterility and even ward off demons. The text was often taken from sacred books such as Gospels and because of this, the scrolls were tolerated by the Ethiopian Church in spite of their connection to magical practices.

The process would begin with the selection and sacrifice of a particular animal. The owner would bashed in the animals’ blood as part of the process of purification. Three strips of parchment were then made from the skin of the animal and stitched together to form a single scroll equal in length to the height of its owner – ours is 135cm.

During crisis, these scrolls were carried on one’s person, and were kept close when sleeping to ensure protection. When the British Soldier acquired this 140 years ago, he protected it in a airtight tin, meaning this fascinating artefact has survived in remarkable condition.

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Posted on 10/04/201828/09/2023 by Paul Rosenberg — Leave a comment

Samuel Alcock

There’s a certain style that defines the late Regency and early Victorian era, when the designers looked beyond the classically inspired Regency designs and re-visited the curves and flourishes of the Rococo. One manufacturer who excelled at this was Samuel Alcock.

He began his own production of pottery in 1828 at Cobridge, and opened another works at the Hill Top Works in Burslem, which he took over from Riley. Some time in the 1830’s he began to manufacture porcelain as well as pottery, and went on to produce a wide variety of pieces decorated by printing, painting, and elaborately applied 3d flowers.

The porcelain is a beautiful bone china mixture which is distinctive enough to be identified on its own when compared to contemporaries such as Daniels or Minton. Decoration included bold ground colours, well painted fruit & flowers, and finely detailed scenes, embellished with good gilding. Marks are rare (on porcelain in particular) but a pattern number will usually be evident. These numbers quickly increased, and a fractional pattern number was introduced, ie. 1/1234.
Samuel died in 1848, having built up a reputation as one of the better manufacturers of the Staffordshire Potteries. His firm closed the following decade.

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