Another Sale, More China, and Thoughts on Stewardship

The Collection of Keith and Chippy Irvine Sale

Today's essay was intended to be a "Winning Bid" post about Reggie's successful bidding on a number of lots at the recent auction of "The Collection of Keith and Chippy Irvine" held at Stair Galleries in Hudson, New York.  It has evolved into being yet another of his posts about collecting ceramics, and it includes one of his favorite tips for carefully storing the same.  It also includes his ramblings about the concept of stewardship.

So, Dear Reader, be forewarned!

For those of us who are as obsessed as Reggie is with pretty things and the appurtenances of refined living—at least as it was narrowly defined among a tiny minority of Anglophilic East Coasters here in the United States in the latter half of the 20th century—last weekend was a sale bonanza in the little city of Hudson, New York.  As readers of this blog well know, on October 5th Stair Galleries auctioned there nearly 300 lots of "Property of a Lady," universally understood to be that of the late Brooke Astor.

Cover of the promotional brochure for the Irvine sale
held at Stair Galleries on October 6th

The very next day Stair Galleries also held a sale of the "Collection of Keith and Chippy Irvine."  Mr. Irvine, the noted decorator, died last year, much to the sadness of those who knew and loved him.  His wife, the noted author Chippy Irvine, is very much alive and decided to sell a treasure-trove of objects that she and her husband collected over their long and happy marriage.  Stair was the fortunate auction house to be selected for this extravaganza.

We—and a number of our friends—were fortunate to come away from the Irvine sale with a pretty thing or two for our own collections.  Which brings to mind one of the reasons that I enjoy collecting antiques (or "previously owned" things): namely, that I appreciate owning objects that someone else (and, dependng on the age of the object, possibly many people) owned and enjoyed before me, and which I shall pass on to someone else to own and enjoy in the future.  We are but stewards of our possessions, Dear Reader, and it is up to us to appropriately care for them while enjoying them, so that those who come after us may do so as well.  Collecting and living with antiques (whether they be objects or houses), is the original definition of being green in my book.

But I digress . . .

We attended the Irvine sale from the first rap of the auctioneer's gavel at eleven o'clock in the morning through the late afternoon.  We did so because the lots that we and our friends desired were spread throughout the day, and also because it was all rather interesting.  Bidding in the auction was spirited, and was enlivened by an intense rivalry between two tastemakers in the room who bid determinedly for the same lots over and over again.  There was also one very active phone bidder amidst the fray.

One of the lots in the Irvine sale from which we
dropped out of the bidding, long before the final hammer
Image courtesy of Stair Galleries

Although there were any number of lots in the sale that we were interested in bidding on, we quickly decided to refrain from doing so on those that the two tastemakers were vying for . . .

Nope.  Didn't get this one, either!
Image courtesy of Stair Galleries

. . . since, given their determination and seemingly endless resources, there was no point!  Besides, we knew one of them and didn't want to bid against him, as he is a friend of many years standing.

The Irvine wall clock that we were able to buy,
 as it appeared in the Stair Galleries online catalogue
Image courtesy of same

Boy and I did come away with two lots from the sale.  One, a pretty and decorative tôle peinte Regency-style pocket watch-form wall clock (clearly not first period—it was most likely made in the 1950s or 1960s), and the second a set of prettily painted Wedgwood creamware plates.  Some of the plates in the set were made in the first period, around 1800, and others were made later, possibly as many as one hundred years later, to fill out the set.  Fortunately Wedgwood kept its early molds and had painters on staff throughout who could perfectly copy the earlier decoration.

The Irvine wall clock, photographed hanging
from a doorknob at Darlington House

Boy has rather a thing for early creamware and was excited by the opportunity to acquire a substantial stack of plates at the Irvine sale to add to our cupboards.  Fortunately the two tastemakers at the sale had their sights on furniture and pictures, so Boy was able to reasonably win the plates and bring them home at the end of the day.

The creamware plates Boy bought, as shown in Stair's online catalogue
Image courtesy of same

But the story doesn't end there, Dear Reader.  No, there's more.  For when one acquires pretty things, it requires (or at least it should) that they be cared for appropriately, so that they can be passed on to others in the future in the best condition possible.

The creamware plates, now that they have come
to exist with us at Darlington House

Once we got our pretty plates home to Darlington House, the two of us spent an hour or so tending to them.  First we removed every sticky label (auction lots get covered with identifying paper labels during the sale process), and then we removed the residue left behind (thank goodness one has discovered Goo-Gone™ for such purposes).  We then followed this by a sudsy wash in warm water and a thorough drying with a soft cloth.

Our bolt of brown felt, on hand for cutting rounds

The next and final bit of tending one does under such circumstances, at least that we do at Darlington House, is to cut out felt rounds to place between each plate so acquired.  Doing so protects the plates from scratching and chipping when picked up by a careless housekeeper and ensures their stacked safety for as long as one owns them.  Although one can buy pre-made rounds to layer between one's plates, making them oneself is easy and (by far more) economical.  Furthermore, in doing so one is able to choose the color of one's rounds.  Our current favorite color of felt is chocolate brown, although we have also used grey in years past.

The felt, as marked for cutting plate rounds

Tending to such things is a satisfying, relaxing, and nonverbal activity, and a decidedly pleasant way to pass happy and productive time with one's like-minded spouse.

The plates, cushioned by layers of felt

Dear Reader, should you be so fortunate to buy, be given, or inherit pretty and fine antique dishes, I encourage you to secure a bolt of felt and cut rounds from it to protect them.  Not only will you be assured of coddling the plates for as long as you own them, but you will also be confident that when you pass them on, either directly or when your effects are auctioned after you move into the Big China Closet Beyond, whoever receives your plates will find them to have been properly—and appreciatively—cared for.

All photographs, except where noted, by Boy Fenwick

The Great Staffordshire Leaf Bleach

Today's essay is a "before" and "after" story.

As you may recall from an earlier post, Dear Reader, this past Boxing Day Boy and I bestirred ourselves for an annual post-Christmas visit to a large (and admittedly rather dismal) antiques groupe shoppe across the river in pursuit of sale-priced vintage Christmas ornaments and any other flotsam and jetsam we might serendipitously find at suitably bargain-basement prices.

Our little leaf-shape dish
in its "as found" discolored state

While in said shoppe, in addition to finding a well-priced box of vintage ornaments, Boy spied and bought an early nineteenth-century green feather-edge creamware leaf-shape dish similar to several already in our collection at Darlington House.

One uses common hydrogen peroxide,
readily and inexpensively found at any drug store

As was shared in the earlier essay, the "new" creamware dish that Boy found was dirty and discolored, almost brown.  He ultimately decided to buy it, after a little dithering, because he suspected the dish would benefit from a hydrogen peroxide bath to restore it to its original intended whitness.  As readers of this blog may know, hydrogen peroxide is the preferred medium for benignly removing discolorations from china.  One must never use chlorine bleach for such purpose, Dear Reader, as it is far too harsh and can irreparably damage the china.

Don't you find Boy's rendition of a
skull and crossbones suitably frightening?

One must fully submerge the discolored piece in hydrogen peroxide (full strength, right out of the bottle) in a covered plastic container for a minimum of twenty-four hours, and up to a week or more, in order to allow the liquid sufficient time to extract the discoloration out of the body of the piece.

One week later, the peroxide has absorbed
much of the leaf's discoloration

If the piece is rather discolored, as our little leaf dish was, it will turn the clear liquid yellow, as can be observed in the preceding photograph.

After its bath, the china is then
heated in a warmed electric oven

Once the piece has been soaked, place it for ten minutes in an electric oven (but not a gas oven, as that supposedly can lead to an explosion) that has been pre-heated to two hundred degrees Fahrenheit (and not higher).  Warming the piece at that temperature and length of time will bring the remaining discoloration to the surface of the piece in the form of tiny brown crystals.  Once the piece has cooled to room temperature, you can easily wash away the crystals with soapy water and a soft brush.

Our little leaf-shape dish, now white as snow

If the piece of china one is seeking to clean is particularly discolored—as was the case with our little dish—it may require repeating the soaking/heating/washing process several times before the china's discoloration entirely vanishes.

See!  The little leaf dish in the foreground is
now as white as its companions in our collection

So, Dear Reader, when you are out and about at yard sales or antiques malls and come across a piece of pretty, albeit discolored or crazed, bit of china, do not reject it out of hand.  For, with but a little bit of planning and effort, you can usually restore it to its original "as new" condition.

Of course this doesn't apply to all pieces of discolored or crazed china one finds, Dear Reader.  No, some of it (or much of it) may be too far gone or simply not of a quality worth the effort to attempt to clean it.  But out-of-the-way places can yield special finds, such as the leaf dish that Boy found on Boxing Day, on which such an investment of time and effort is indeed well spent.

All photographs by Boy Fenwick