There was a time when I was a younger woman, maybe still a teen and even a young adult, when I had no interest whatsoever in the few old antique type things my parents had in their home. Like the antique cabinet that I do have (but I’ll save that story for another day), or particularly all of the mix and match fancy plates my mother used now and then. Only on holidays were the plates removed from the cupboards in the dining room to grace the table for a holiday meal. My mother must have sold one group of plates – she didn’t even remember them from my recollection – so maybe they were a figment of my imagination. They were the only dinner sized plates my mother used for these sit-down-at-the-dining-room-table special occasions. They had cut work around the outside edge, and I recall having an occasional pea or something fall through the kind of lattice-like edge.
After my paternal grandparents died, my dad saved a few things from their house – likely my mother had something to do with the plates – like a big gnarled bed and dresser, a 5-foot high mirror on a stand, the music cabinet I now have, one painting that has an interesting story (another day also). Oh yes, there was also a rather ornate silver (plated) tea service, which I finally gave away some years ago because it was completely and solidly black from improper storage. I tried numerous times to clean it up, and never was able to make a dent (ha, so to speak) in the black tarnish. If I’d paid to have it dipped, am certain it would have lost all its plate. At the time I had no place to display it. Nor funds to have it re-plated. Never, likely, would have used it. I kind of wanted to make a lamp out of the cream pitcher – thought that would be a clever use of it. But the solid black tarnish kept me from pursuing that idea. I hope somebody else was able to do something with it.
But, let’s get back to the plates. My paternal grandmother, as I have mentioned here before, enjoyed baking and regularly entertained some of her lady friends on an afternoon, for some tea, coffee and a cake of some kind. I remember looking at her loose-leaf recipe book after she passed away. It contained only desserts, all clipped from magazines. Very elaborate affairs they were, layers of cake, meringues, frosting, fillings, etc. (a King or Queen would have approved, I’m sure.) There weren’t any recipes for salads, or meat dishes. Or vegetables. She died when I was still quite young, so I don’t have many memories of her. But, what did eventually get handed down to me were all of her dessert plates.
Sometime after I reached adulthood, I began to like dishes, plates, serving pieces. That kind of thing. I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was nothing more than realizing I liked entertaining, and at the time I had nothing except my 1962 wedding dishes. It wasn’t until my parents moved into a retirement home that some of the dishes finally came to live with me. The furniture piece became mine a long time ago because it didn’t really fit with my parents’ style or décor. I never did want the huge bedroom set (a double bed . . . who sleeps in a double bed anymore? . . . we certainly don’t). The large mirror was mine for some years too, but without the stand. It got lost somewhere along the way. So it leaned onto a wall, but finally it didn’t fit with my décor either.
What brought this subject to mind was an article by Sarah B. Coffin in Martha Stewart Living magazine. It was a monthly feature called “Object Lesson,” and subtitled “dessert plates bedecked with blooms bring the fanciful forms and vibrant colors of spring right to the table.” A lovely sage-green painted wall in Martha’s house was decorated with a randomly placed group of about 18 plates. Every one different. Some color rimmed. Some medium sized, others larger. A real conglomeration of color and style. I studied the photo. None were even similar to my collection of dessert plates, but then, hers were mostly current designs by Vera Wang and Kate Spade. They’re not antiques at all. A second photo with a rosy pink background showed a similar collection of plates. All with pink in them. This looked much like my collection, which all contain some pink, various flowers. According to the article, in studying the history of dessert plates, in the late 18th century, an array of desserts was reserved for honored guests of monarchs, aristocrats, and later, wealthy merchants. Large dessert arrangements connoted power and wealth. Porcelain finally found its way to European tables (from China) in the 17th century, but was rare and costly. But revered because porcelain allowed the use of color and naturalistic decoration (flowers, leaves) and were considered appropriate for dessert.
According to the article, in 1742, Meissen, the German porcelain manufacturer, originated the idea of special dessert plates and produced small pierced plates. They were accompanied by compotes and other centerpieces and figurines. I have one small compote (see picture). Most of my plates are Haviland from France. In reading about this, I came across a really interesting online history of Haviland in Limoges. The Haviland family is American, and after years of trying to work with the French artisans, the family established their own factory in Limoges, France. It rocked the industry there, because Haviland had specific ideas about what would be manufactured and exported to America. Altogether new and different designs. Very interesting reading, if you happen to be intrigued by it. I have a new perspective and appreciation for my Haviland ware, made in Limoges. Over the years they created nearly 60,000 patterns. Can you imagine?
kate
said on April 23rd, 2008:
I have a thing for antique tea cups and saucers, especially in bone china (of course, the most expensive, and fragile, kind to love) so I get itchy fingers when I spot them in antique stores or at a garage sale. Last summer I came across three of them at a garage sale, and the owner sold them all to me for $15.00. I about dropped over in delight.
I love the look of your plates, they really are lovely.