Posts tagged ‘art’
For Sale: “The Cockpit / Pit Ticket” – William Hogarth, original print, hand colouring, 1759
Mrs Molly Joyful is flogging off the crown jewels…
THE COCKPIT / PIT TICKET
by William Hogarth
Engraving with hand colouring in watercolour on cream wove paper, 1759. 320×385 mm; 12×15 1/4 inches, wide margins.
Very good condition, minor wear and tear around the border (please click on the picture for hi-resolution version). I do not know if this is the 1822 Cradock & Joy reprint or an earlier 18th century one. The paper is 18th century, though.
Interested? Please contact joyful_molly at yahoo.co.uk for questions and price offers; offers start at £ 280.00/EUR 350.00 (plus p+p, custom fees and possible banking/paypal fees). This is your chance to invite one of Britain’s greatest artist into your house. I hate to see him go, but alas…
Did Napoleon get up your nose? No surprise!
Pardon the pun, but I couldn’t resist when coming across this snuff box on the Antiques Roadshow.
A snuff box in the shape of Napoleon’s hat – now I’ve seen it all! Though not quite up there with Napoleon’s head in a jerry, it’s still a very quirky item. Made of horn in ca. 1812, this commemorative snuff box was made with Napoleon’s doomed Russisa campaign in mind. Prophetic that he looks so sulky, despite his grande armée in the background). The inscription says “Napoléon à Moscou” (Napoleon in Moscow – oh, the dangers of overhasty marketing!) And at a value of £ 300 – £ 400 pounds, it’s not to be sneezed at.
Shake it, Baby! For the 18th Century Bairn who has Everything
I admit I find this item as exciting as a ceremonial sword, and depending on the previous owner, it might have been just as dangerous…!
Here we have a very rare – as it’s still intact! – 18th century baby rattle/teether!
This little piece of art is made from red coral (the teether-part) and silver.
Fitted with a whistle, it offers many opportunities for an adventurous child to drive mum and dad up the wall.
Made in 1793, according to the Antiques Roadshow expert buying this for your baby would set you back £ 1’500 – with all bells and whistles!
Extraordinary 18th Century Sewing Box. Sew Cute!
I have two left hands and ten thumbs, so I admire this item for the art it represents rather than the art you could create with it. And art it is; without a doubt one of the cutest sewing boxes I’ve ever seen! Without further ado: Sewing Cottage!
It’s made of engraved ivory; lined in sandalwood, and was created in Visakhapatnam, India.
The expert of the Antiques Roadshow dated it to the second half of the 18th century and estimated its worth to at least between £ 5’000 and £ 8’000. You’d have to sew and sell quite a few handkerchiefs for that!
Horatio Nelson got a Make-Over
After the finding-royals-under-the-car-park fad, we now have the give-history-a-make-over craze.
Historical hipsters: Shakespeare and Elizabeth I get makeovers from modern artists
I admit, seeing “Elizabeth I” and “hipster” in one sentence is painful; Shakespeare, however…
For Yesterday’s series “Secret Life of…”, historian Dr Suzannah Lipscom and a team of digital artists have given a number of historical portraits a modern make-over. Maybe nothing for purists, but I think it’s a fascinating idea, though the execution is a bit hit and miss. Marie Antoinette looks like Lindsey Lohan. Maria Theresia is nicht amüsiert.
But this – this, dear friends, is priceless:
In case the title of this post wasn’t a give-away:
Genius! I absolutely love the robotic hand! Now I’d like to see modern!Collingwood, wearing dungarees and battling snails in his cabbage patch in Morpeth.
Well, I have a contribution as well. Beat that!
Well, and then there’s this, of course – yes, we’ve had it before, but it’s so amazing, it deserves an encore. Plus, you can never have too much of a good thing.
Gallery of Fashion – Lady’s 18th Century Fashion Guide
After a lengthy drought in all things 18th century, the Antiques Roadshow finally featured something of interest to this blog again. And on one of your most popular topics: fashion!
A lady brought along four 18th century fashion guides, dated 1795. Illustrated with 174 of the most stunning fashion plates, these guides gave highly detailed information on all things chic. What to wear, where when, how and in what manner – the “Vogue” of the Age of Enlightenment, of sorts, only without the intent to make everybody look like clowns. Bonnets, morning dresses, gloves, even how to style your ringlets. The complete guide to beauty.
How I’d love to flip through those pages… I did flip something else, though, when the expert stated that the value of those guides was in the fashion plates (about £100 per plate), and what some would do was to cut the books to sell them.
Pray tell, what did I just hear? Cut the books? Cut the books?!
How about pointing out the historic value, which is in the context? How about selling prints instead? I hope to the Gods nobody ever comes along and has a long-lost portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds valued by her, she might advice to cut it down to fit the frame.
Luckily, the owner of the books immediately said that she had no intention to cut the books. Brava, brava!
Edit for clarification: the expert didn’t say “go forth and cut ye olde bookes”. But she said, as I wrote above, that the value was only in the fashion plates, made no mention of the historical value and context at all, and gave the impression that cutting the books wouldn’t be a big deal. Antiques Roadshow experts always put emphasis on context and historical value as soon as an item dates back to WWI or WWII. However, history is more than wars. I don’t think a comment along the lines of “…some would cut the books to sell them, which would be a real shame/remove the historical context etc.” would have been too much to ask of an expert.
Here are some of the plates – please note that I had to do a bit of “cut and paste” work to show them as complete as possible, but due to ratio issues during capping, you can sometimes see where I patched the individual pictures together. Nevermind, I hope you will enjoy them, anyway.
“Watering Place” – needless to say, this was my favourite of the plates shown on telly!
What fascinated me was the date of these guides – 1795. It’s very much Regency – which was still 16 years away! Fashion is faster than politics, it seems!
Happy Birthday, Admiral Collingwood! Cake for you, and a Freebie for your Friends!
In honour of Admiral Collingwood’s 264th birthday, Emma Collingwood (not related) offers the story “Last Service”, an excerpt from the book “The Radiant Boy – Four Ghost Stories in the Age of Sail”, for free download over at her website.
The beautiful illustrations were done by the amazing Amandine de Villeneuve.
Old Cuddy, Horatio Nelson and the Victory in one tale, who could ask for more? Have fun!
The Doodling Queen in 1789: some Things never Change
Forgive me for lingering in 18th century Prussia a little longer; I’ll return soon to Englands mountains green, but this is just too charming…
Remember back in the early days of your youth, when you escaped math by doodling in your exercise book? Eyes, swirls, patterns, lips, faces, doodles of a slightly indecent nature and random scribblings were of much more interest than the rule of three and algebra. It was like blogging, in a way.
So you can imagine my delight when I came across the following page of Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz’s (wife of Frederick Wilhelm of Prussia, she of the maternity gown, dental hygiene kit and cute pink pointed shoes) exercise book from 1789:
Ladies wearing hats! Bewigged gentlemen! Flower baskets! Some things never change – thanks the Gods; it’s those little tidbits which connect the past with the present (she did have a thing for noses, didn’t she…?)
Oh what big teeth you have, Louise of Prussia! Dental Set, 1810.
Duchess Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (1776-1810), wife of Frederick William III. of Prussia, was one of the most famous beauties of her time. Even Napoleon, so the legend goes, melted into a (small) puddle of sap upon meeting the lovely Louise in 1806. She also had a good head on her shoulders; when she died, Napoleon commented that Frederick William had lost his “best minister”. It’s easy to see why she was celebrated:
Louise was a style icon, always ahead of the latest fashion trends. Remember her maternity gown (ca. 1800)?
Quite naturally, Louise took great care of her appearance. She was praised for her complexion and her big blue eyes, and her smile was often mentioned as being particularly lovely. Such loveliness doesn’t come without effort, as this picture of Louise’s dental set proves. It dates back to the year of her death, but we can assume that she had owned a similar one previously.
Now that’s some thorough dental health care!
Here are Louise and Frederick William. Politically, her husband wasn’t one to write home about, underestimating the French threat until it was far too late. But at least they made a rather dashing couple, if I may say so.
(Look at her cute pink pointed shoes! Wheee!)
Joyful Molly 