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The Great Porcelain Trail (part two)

carlamklassen

It is not news to anyone who knows us that we are museum fanatics. We’ve been to many. More than many. We’ve travelled countless kilometres to visit these ultimate collection containers, sometimes driving for hours in a day just to see one special place. But there is an example of a really fine museum that sparked our interest in porcelain just a little more than any others. We have visited this museum multiple times, more than any other in the world (outside of our own city, of course). It is the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. An incredible collection and, I can say with a fair amount of confidence, my favourite museum in the world (thus far). This is the kind of place that will destroy your feet and fill your soul. Perfection. And, on the subject of porcelain, has an astounding café with walls and ceilings covered in Minton fine bone china tiles. This was the first purpose built museum café in the world, and is worth a visit in and of itself (designed, in part, by the great William Morris). The scones and cream are quite good, should you care to indulge whilst resting your feet.


I will never forget the day I discovered something called visible storage in this grand museum. I was flabbergasted. Rooms and rooms of glass cases filled with every imaginable kind of porcelain, ceramic and pottery item. From every corner of the globe. From every era. Not displayed as one expects in a museum, but carefully jammed into shelves that afford a view from all angles. Thousands of pieces. There is reportedly space for all 25,600 pieces in the museum’s collection to be on display. A rarity, as most museums keep the bulk of their holdings in storage to be rotated through public galleries. What the experience of walking through these rooms did was open up the vast world of craft and history that ceramics represents. It is common – as in, many, many cultures have used this material to fulfill both utilitarian and artistic needs. It is also extraordinary – as in, across time, an enormous amount of effort has been spent beautifying these practical items, in all kinds of ways, almost competitively to tell stories, describe life and present beauty to the viewer.


We learn from these kinds of places. And then we seek out whatever it is that has caught our eye. So our pursuit of porcelain continued.


There are a couple of memorable day trips that were inspired by fine china. Odd for some, somehow normal for us. Both were adventures. And both were unforgettable. The first takes us to the great city of Saint Petersburg in Russia. I don’t really know anything about Russian porcelain, but when we began to investigate what we should see on this trip, the obvious museum visit included the Hermitage. This is a massive museum with five separate locations, each dedicated to different parts of the Imperial collections. It is interesting to note that when the revolution took place, these collections were immediately available to the public for viewing. There was much lost during the Communist era, but somehow these treasures remain. I’m not sure people were, in reality, able to visit during the worst of those years, but the collection carries on and now millions visit each year. The portion of the museum dedicated to porcelain, is probably the least visited. In fact, when we went, there were probably only five or six visitors in the entire place. I suspect the main reason for the lack of visitors is that it is located in the actual old factory building, about a 30-40 minute drive away from the centre of Saint Petersburg. Our drive cost a whopping $4 and we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere, feeling as though this might be the end of us, perhaps doomed to wander the industrial outskirts indefinitely. At long last we found the unassuming building, only the smallest of signs (in Cyrillic) indicating we were at the right place. It is not a large museum, but it contains some fantastic pieces, and some of a variety we’d never seen before. Beautiful dishes, teapots and platters with finely detailed flowers and landscapes that, upon closer inspection revealed carefully placed images of Lenin, Stalin and the hammer and sickle. Startling. But, so interesting to see. Imagery of workers, in uniform, en masse. Subject matter we were unaccustomed to seeing on fine china. A highlight of this museum was the beautiful sculptures representing every cultural group in Russia – and there are many – in traditional dress. It was a beautiful thing to see. We acquired a tiny bowl from the Imperial Porcelain Factory, a replica of a traditional Imperial design. Another small reminder of a place visited that was filled with incredible history and memorable adventures.


It would be a rare museum display focused on porcelain that didn’t include some of the beautiful work from Sèvres, France. This small community near Paris was the principal porcelain producer in Europe from the 1750s onward. It has always been, and continues to be, owned by the French monarchy or government. We had talked of visiting several times, but somehow didn’t manage to do so until 2019. What a place. A collection filled with examples of unbelievable items, the most impressive being vases of enormous size. I mean, enormous. Can you imagine a porcelain vase twice the height of an average person? These marvels exist. It is beyond me how they made them, let alone transported them in their glorious perfection. We arrived at the museum shortly before lunch and were only about a quarter of the way through when we were gently, yet firmly, ushered out of the premises. Lunch is sacred, apparently, and all good things must pause in order to eat. We were happy to oblige and found ourselves at a small local brasserie across the street (well, more like a highway, not exactly the quaintest of neighbourhoods). There we had a wonderful meal, as is almost always the case in France, but the real entertainment was when the owner came round to introduce himself. It was obvious that everyone else was a regular, and our pitiful French clearly marked us as tourists. After a brief chat, he magnanimously announced to the entire place that this was his friend Bryan from Ottawa - to which we were greeted with warm applause and welcome. What a lovely experience. The remainder of the museum was a continuation of a marvellous day and one we won’t soon forget. But, back to our collections…did we purchase a small memento in the tiny shop at the museum? Well, I did manage to acquire a print of a pattern. But alas, the teacup I had my eye on turned out to have a price tag of €1500 – an impossible dream.



Several days after our adventure in Sèvres, we went to the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen, the largest antiques market in Europe. This is not a good place for collectors to go. I will state this right from the start. And yet, it may be the best place we’ve ever been. There are fifteen separate markets – each specialising in a specific category of wares. There is the for real antique furniture market (as in, the stuff you see in palaces), the regular antique market (as in, old furniture), and the vintage antique market (as in, really expensive furniture from the first half of the 20th century). There is the objet d’art market – you know, the likes of Lalique, Gallé and Tiffany. There are books and records, cheap junk, clothes – vintage and not. I imagine a patient hunter could find almost anything here. We spent about six hours wandering and managed to cover four of the fifteen markets. We picked through mountains of silver and china, glass and ironwork. We were strict, and didn’t lose our minds (although came very close to buying a couple of Lalique pieces priced similarly to our old used car). We resisted many a temptation. And then, in amongst a jumble of items, in a locked cabinet, I spied two tiny porcelain pots de créme cups. And they were from Sèvres. And all willpower disappeared. We ate at home that night for dinner. But, we were in Paris, so bread and water is not much of a hardship.


Not all of our porcelain collection has come from our travels. There are a few special pieces that have been gifts. They tell stories that are meaningful, some with controversy, some with a bit of sadness, some with gratitude – all with fondness. The first of these gifts are four very translucent bowls. They come from my sister and her former husband from a trip to Japan. I cannot read the markings on the back, but they are lovely delicate things that one can almost see through they are so fine. I don’t know anything about them, but they are precious. A reminder of another time, and two of my favourite people.


Another special gift is a cream and sugar bowl from my dear friend Marion. Marion is a wonder. A woman who will remember every word you say, and turn up with something out of the blue that represents how much she listens, really listens, to the briefest of comments or shortest of conversations. A few years ago, we happened upon a set of four demitasses made by Crown Staffordshire, another English china company. We liked the pattern, they were inexpensive so we bought them impulsively. Photos were posted on Facebook, and that was the end of it. Bryan continues to use them for his Sunday afternoon espressos. More than a year later, a gift was received with a sugar bowl – in the exact pattern. Another time the creamer arrived. I didn’t even remember the pattern name, and yet here was our dear Marion, searching these things out and adding to our collection. This is an extraordinary example of thoughtfulness – and of listening. It inspires me. This kind of person is as rare as the treasures we collect.


The last story is complicated. But it is still one of my favourite stories. As some will know, there has recently been a great deal of controversy surrounding Canada’s most recent Governor General. I don’t wish to comment on that, but will say that I am aware that personal experiences with a person may or may not always match those of others. What I wish to share is the story of my plates. A few years ago, the choir I sing with welcomed a new member of some significant prestige. She was the Governor General of Canada, a former astronaut, and an avid singer and musician. While she lived in Ottawa she was looking for a choir to sing with, and joined us as she was able. As a result, we had several post-concert parties at Rideau Hall, the official residence. At one of these events, I mentioned to Bryan that I’d really like to steal (maybe that’s too strong a word. Snatch? Borrow?) one of the plates. He suggested that the security guys might not appreciate that, so I refrained. Later that evening I mentioned this scenario to the Governor General directly (always go to the top...) and she smiled, asked me to wait a minute and wandered off. A few minutes later, she handed me a plastic bag. Inside were two plates. Both were custom made for the residence, and both were damaged and had been put on the reject shelf as no longer being suitable for use. I was thrilled. Who knows who ate off these plates? They hang on my wall as a reminder of many things, more now than then. A reminder of exciting times, interesting friendships, the fragility and complications of human relationships and the reality that nothing is permanent.

When I look at our various pieces of porcelain, I marvel at the skill it took to create them. The process that involves the right mix of ingredients – bits of the earth that when combined and exposed to a fire of change inducing heat, turn into something wholly new and unexpected. Passing through this fire to emerge smooth and refined and translucent. Decorated with a vision that cannot really see its end until the process is complete. Concrete examples of memory evoking souvenirs that remind me of places I’ve been and people I’ve known, appreciated and loved. Another way that things can enrich our lives when we look beyond their obvious purpose and into their stories. Stories both rich and complicated. Stories that make up what it is to be alive.

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