The current issue of Yankee magazine (July/August 2011) contains the story “Make-Dos” (seeing the plural term looks Spanish to me) in the Antiques & Collectibles section, featuring pieces from my collection. Photographs by Ira Lippke are used to illustrate the well written article by Catherine Riedel.
Edith Wharton in The Mount library 1905.
Excerpt from Edith Wharton’s “Copy”: A Dialogue, Scribner’s Magazine 27 (June 1900):
VENTNOR. But the time comes when one sends for the china-mender, and has the bits riveted together, and turns the cracked side to the wall –
MRS. DALE. And denies that the article was ever damaged?
VENTNOR. Eh? Well, the great thing, you see, is to keep one’s self out of reach of the housemaid’s brush. (A pause.) If you’re married you can’t — always. (Smiling.) Don’t you hate to be taken down and dusted?
This amusing poem, written by British poet and humorist Thomas Hood, Esq. (1799-1845), first appeared in The Royal Lady’s Magazine (their motto: “Our ambition is to raise the female mind of England to its true level”) London, January 1832.
Photo courtesy of The National Portrait Gallery, London
THE CHINA-MENDER
Good-Morning, Mr. What-d’ye-call! Well! here’s another pretty job!
Lord help my Lady!—what a smash!—if you had only heard her sob!
It was all through Mr. Lambert: but for certain he was winey,
To think for to go to sit down on a table full of Chiney.
“Deuce take your stupid head!” says my Lady to his very face;
But politeness, you know, is nothing when there’s Chiney in the case;
And if ever a woman was fond of Chiney to a passion,
It’s my mistress, and all sorts of it, whether new or old fashion.
Her brother’s a sea-captain, and brings her home shiploads—
Such bronzes, and such dragons, and nasty squatting things like toads;
And great nidnoddin’ mandarins, with palsies in the head:
I declare I’ve often dreamt of them, and had nightmares in my bed.
But the frightfuller they are—lawk! she loves them all the better,
She’d have Old Nick himself made of Chiney if they’d let her.
Lawk-a-mercy! break her Chiney, and it’s breaking her very heart;
If I touched it, she would very soon say, “Mary, we must part.”
To be sure she is unlucky: only Friday comes Master Randall,
And breaks a broken spout, and fresh chips a tea-cup handle:
He’s a dear, sweet little child, but he will so finger and touch,
And that’s why my Lady doesn’t take to children much.
Well, there’s stupid Mr. Lambert, with his two greatcoat flaps.
Must go and sit down on the Dresd’n shepherdesses’ laps,
As if there was no such things as rosewood chairs in the room!
I couldn’t have made a greater sweep with the handle of the broom.
Mercy on us! how my mistress began to rave and tear!
Well, after all, there’s nothing like good ironstone ware for wear.
If ever I marry, that’s flat, I’m sure it won’t be John Dockery—
I should be a wretched woman in a shop full of crockery.
I should never like to wipe it, though I love to be neat and tidy,
And afraid of meat on market-days every Monday and Friday
I’m very much mistook if Mr. Lambert’s will be a catch;
The breaking the Chiney will be the breaking-off of his own match.
Missis wouldn’t have an angel, if he was careless about Chiney;
She never forgives a chip, if it’s ever so small and tiny.
Lawk! I never saw a man in all my life in such a taking;
I could find it in my heart to pity him for all his mischief-making.
To see him stand a-hammering and stammering like a zany;
But what signifies apologies, if they won’t mend old Chaney!
If he sent her up whole crates full, from Wedgwood’s and Mr. Spode’s,
He couldn’t make amends for the crack’d mandarins and smash’d toads.
Well! every one has their tastes, but, for my part, my own self,
I’d rather have the figures on my poor dear grandmother’s old shelf
A nice pea-green poll-parrot, and two reapers with brown ears of corns,
And a shepherd with a crook after a lamb with two gilt horns,
And such a Jemmy Jessamy in top-boots and sky-blue vest,
And a frill and flower’d waistcoat, with a fine bow-pot at the breast.
God help her, poor old soul! I shall come into ‘em at her death;
Though she’s a hearty woman for her years, except her shortness of breath.
Well! you may think the things will mend—if they won’t, Lord mend us all!
My lady will go in fits, and Mr. Lambert won’t need to call;
I’ll be bound in any money, if I had a guinea to give,
He won’t sit down again on Chiney the longest day he has to live.
Poor soul! I only hope it won’t forbid his banns of marriage;
Or he’d better have sat behind on the spikes of my Lady’s carriage.
But you’ll join ‘em all of course, and stand poor Mr. Lambert’s friend,
I’ll look in twice a day, just to see, like, how they mend.
To be sure it is a sight that might draw tears from dogs and cats,
Here’s this pretty little pagoda, now, has lost four of its cocked hats.
Be particular with the pagoda: and then here’s this pretty bowl—
The Chinese Prince is making love to nothing because of this hole;
And here’s another Chinese man, with a face just like a doll,
Do stick his pigtail on again, and just mend his parasol.
But I needn’t tell you what to do, only do it out of hand,
And charge whatever you like to charge—my Lady won’t make a stand.
Well! good-morning, Mr. What-d’ye-call, for it’s time our gossip ended:
And you know the proverb, the less as is said, the sooner the Chiney’s mended.
Second-class citizens no more, “inventive repairs” have been acknowledged in an extensive article in The New York Times. The Fix Is In: Finding Beauty Beyond Repair appeared on the front page of yesterday’s Home section, featuring photos of me and my collection. Andrea Codrington Lippke wrote the wonderful article and Ira Lippke took the beautiful photographs, 11 of which are included in the online slide show.
The response has been overwhelming and I appreciate the over 100 emails and phone calls I received, as well as the many new subscribers to this blog.
Article photos by Ira Lippke for The New York Times
“Another ingenious and effectual method of mending porcelain and all manner of crockery ware is performed by itinerant workmen, who travel about with their workshop on their shoulders, as seen in the cut. By means of minute copper clamps, even the most delicate article of China-ware may be repaired and made to answer the purpose of a new piece: since no cement is used in this style of mending, it has the additional advantage of standing immersion in water.”
From the monthly magazine “The Chinese Repository, Volume Ten”, 1841
“Men of this description are in China termed Fia-Con-Culk-Tziang; they practise every kind of occupation; they mend porcelain, repair locks, and solder pipes. They have a portable forge, anvil, furnace, coal, and all sorts of tools. The whole of this baggage is suspended to a bamboo cane; the anvil alone occupies one side to counterpoise the rest.”
“The china-menders are said to be far superior to our menders of earthen-ware; the reason of this is, that, working on a more valuable material, and making a higher charge, they take more pains with it; their piercer, instead of being iron, like that of our stall gentry, has a diamond point; extremely fine brass wire is passed through the holes, and the vessel, for use, is as good as ever”
For a more detailed account on the art of staple repair, see my blog entry “How did they do that?” from 5/12/10
From the book “China: It’s Costume, Arts, Manufacturers &c, Volume 3″ by Breton (Jean Baptiste Joseph, M.), published in 1812
This photo was sent to me by a Scottish collector of pottery & porcelain who has been most generous in sharing his knowledge and examples from his collection with me. The photo by Alexander Beattie is included in Volume 6 of the series, “Peoples of All Nations”, edited by J.A. Hammerton. The caption reads: “Wandering china-mender camped by the pines of Rothiemurchus (Scotland)”, followed by: “He wends his way through the land, making a trifle at each village where thrifty folk may prefer the sight of a riveted jug to the cost of buying a new one. His push-cart carries house and belongings, and, when evening overtakes him, shelter and fire are soon ready, and while the pungent wood-smoke drifts about him he finishes some job for a local cottager.”
Close up of hand drilling, with jug in need of repair at his feet
Much thanks to Jim Horne for sending me this photo
An article featuring items from my collection appeared in the October 2001 issue of Martha Stewart Living. I was told that Martha appreciates antiques with inventive repairs and was quite pleased with the article. The gorgeous photographs were taken by Maria Robledo; Thomas Hine wrote the text and the story was created by Brian Andriola, Fritz Karch and Alexa Mulvihill. Look closely at the images below to see examples from my collection…
Photos courtesy of Martha Stewart Living
“In this picture he is drilling a hole into which he fixes a small brass rivet, and a cup when mended will often contain a dozen or more of these, and the whole thing is done at the cost of a cent or two”
From the book “Familiar Chinese Faces” by J.C. Carter, published in Shanghai by McTavish & Co. Ltd.
The current issue of Tea Time magazine (May/June 2010) contains an article featuring teapots with inventive repairs from my collection, written by author and tea expert Elizabeth Knight.
Tea Time creative director and photographer Mac Jamieson flew up from Alabama to shoot this story in my NYC apartment. He and editor Lorna Reeves were a pleasure to work with and both exuded southern charm!