Little People boosted Wedgwood business

Press, 6 March 1984, Page 16

Little People boosted Wedgwood business

Collecting with Myrtle Duff

All businesses have their ups and downs, even the most famous, and their salvation sometimes originates in quite unexpected places. Royal Worcester was once saved by a timely infusion of capital resulting from the popularity of a certain Worcester sauce, and in the early days of this century the Wedgwood factory just emerging from a period of financial difficulty received welcome assistance along the road to recovery from a less prosaic source — the Little People of Fairyland who frolicked, leap-frogged and skipped across the fanciful bridge between the real world and their fantasy home on the surface of thousands of brightly coloured, lustrous creations now known as Wedgwood Fairyland Lustre.

The technique of lustring porcelain was known to the Islamic potters of Mesopotamia as early as the ninth century. An Arab geographer in the year 1154 wrote of “the gold-coloured pottery which is exported to all countries” so it had probably arrived in Europe by that time. It was much later that it became known in England but there, as elsewhere, its iridescent beauty brought an instant demand for the product and potters everywhere experimented with ways of producing the desired effects. It is now generally conceded that the credit for the introduction of the techniques which produced the popular English lustreware of the nineteenth century should be given to John Hancock who, at the age of 89 in the year 1846, wrote of having carried out such decoration for the Spode Works.

The Wedgwoods, always eager to compete in meeting popular demand, began experimenting about 1769 and were probably producing some lustre from that time, but few pieces were marked and it is seldom possible to date an early example. There are some,, however, which bear the date February 2, 1805, clearly impressed and these, being so unusual, are thought to have some special significance.

An American Wedgwood specialist, Mrs Jean Gorely, believes that it was on this day that Josiah Wedgwood II succeeded in achieving a long-sought improvement in the method of recording kiln temperatures; not an event which appeals greatly to the imagination today but no doubt of importance in a technique where degrees of temperature can have a bearing on quality and depth of colour. Nearly 76 years later at Wath-upon-Deame, a mining village six miles north of Rotherham, an event occurred of even more im-

portance to the fortunes of the Wedgwood firm, Daisy Makeig-Jones, the first of her parents’ seven children, was born. Like most older sisters she was frequently required to entertain younger members of the family and found herself fascinated by the Colour Fairy Books edited by Andrew Lang which were favourite reading matter at the time.

This experience together with a moderate but not outstanding gift for drawing and painting, influenced the whole course of her life and contributed to some extent to the increasing profitability of the Wedgwood firm. Eager to earn her own living and develop a talent which had been nurtured by tuition received from an art master at nearby Rugby school for boys, and a later brief period at a London art school, Daisy sought the assistance of a relative to make contact with Cecil Wedgwood, great-great-grandson of the first Josiah Wedgwood, and arrangements were eventually made for her to become a trainee ceramic designer in which position she was required to spend time working on the factory floor together with other trainees to learn and understand the procedures of ceramic manufacture and also to work in the hand-painting department. After two years she became a member of the staff of the art director and in 1914 was given her own studio adjacent to that of the chief designer, James Hodgkiss who was to become a firm friend and supporter. Most Makeig-Jones lustres are frequently referred to as Wedgwood Fairyland though strictly speaking the title should be reserved for those pieces featuring the little people themselves.. The first 10 lustres produced were actually decorated with butterflies, dragons, Chinese tigers and other oriental motifs and small animals; another series with tiny humming birds, all on the traditional Fairy lustre grounds of orange, green, blue, ruby and mother of pearl. In spite of World War I or perhaps because of it, these vividly coloured, shimmering, ceramic fantasies were enthusiastically received and were soon to be found

in most shops. Queen Mary set the final seal of approval on the ware by buying some.

Everything has its season and even Fairyland is no exception. Other companies in the traditional manner of potteries, had begun to copy the lustreware and the Depression of the 1930 s brought retrenchment. Younger members of the family had succeeded those who had befriended Daisy. They did not think so highly of the lustres, discontinued many patterns and finally asked Daisy to retire.

After 20 years’ association with the firm she resented this treatment and, following what has been described as “a blazing row” with the Josiah of the day, she departed after having given orders that all the remaining sample lustre and other pieces in her studio be removed and smashed.

The final blow came during World War II when, during a “Saucepans for Spitfires” campaign in the drive for scrap metal, Wedgwood’s contribution to the thousands of tons of culinary utensils, bedsteads and iron railings was hundreds of engraved copper plates considered to be of no further use, among them some, but fortunately not all, Fairyland designs.

When the Etruria works were abandoned in 1966 the engraving store was moved to Barlaston and the surviving Fairyland copper plates, not being then in production, were stacked at the back of storage racks where they were soon concealed by a later accumulation of copper, and forgotten. They were later rediscovered quite by chance by Una des Fontaines, author of the book, Wedgwood Fairyland Lustre, when doing research on another topic.

Fairyland Lustre bowls and other pieces in Britain today fetch anything from £ 300 to about £lOOO. In New Zealand, they are very hard to come by but do turn up from time to time.

This week, I discovered one small bowl at Morris Antiques in Victoria Street which is believed to be Wedgwood, most attractive with outlined dragons on a blue background round the outside and brightly coloured fruit inside, and one 10-inch plate at Shand’s Emporium in Hereford Street. This is definitely Wedgwood Fairyland with the traditional bridge design complete with elves, pixies and other Fairy folk. It is priced at more than $5OO.

The pieces illustrated are from a private collection, the tall vase, nine inches high, has a background of orange, black, blue and green lustre on which black elves with purple wings and other little purple people are descending the fairy bridge. The design continues inside the lip of the vase.

The smaller dish is dark purple outside with butterflies and oriental designs outlined in gold. The inside is an opalescent pale green with a golden butterfly at the bottom. Just inside at the top is a border in purple and gold which includes further oriental designs.

Such pieces are rare but it is just possible that there may be some still undiscovered .at the back of cupboards in local homes. If you should find a Wedgwood dish or vase, luminously coloured with birds, leapfrogging elves, dragons or butterflies, do treasure it. I am sure nobody needs to be reminded that it should not be washed in detergent or submitted to the rigours of that otherwise wonderful invention, the automatic dishwasher. If it does no't appeal to your taste there are many admirers ready to snap it up.