Many of the British ceramics in Chipstone’s depict images of kings, queens, and other influential figures. One lovely exception is this 1720 delftware mug that depicts the Thames waterman John Giles. Records of the Company of Watermen and Lightermen indicate that Giles fulfilled his apprenticeship in 1697 and by 1707 was living in Queenhithe ward, where he sits in his “wherry” or canal boat in this pastoral scene.
Giles is portrayed leaning forward with his visible oar poised above the water. The shadows over the dappled water suggest it is a sunny summer day, as does the dense foliage of the trees, represented by the potter’s skillfully rendered green and blue sponge painting. The oarsman sits near the bank as another waterman rows past in the background. Perhaps to enhance the theme of water, the potter of this mug added a wavelike ornamental band around the bottom. While the trees in this scene look plausible for Giles’ locale, the oversized foliage and rocks are imaginative decorative motifs that the potter borrowed from imported Chinese ceramics.
Heightening the decorative merging of East and West on this mug is the careful depiction of Queenhithe in the background. Even in 1720, Queenhithe or “Queen’s Harbor” was an ancient site characterized by centuries of commercial activity. Established in 899, the dock soon became the main port for domestic trade between London and the countryside, and by the 16th century the surrounding area was a thriving working-class neighborhood. As an access point to the river, Queenhithe also became a center for watermen like Giles, who transported people rather than goods along the river. The “Waterman’s Stairs” can be seen in the background of this image, and they lead our eyes up to the ward’s church towers, which signaled home to Giles and his colleagues as they plied the river.
In certain respects, this carefully composed scene of activity on the Thames contrasts the harsh reality of life of watermen, who have been distinguished throughout British history for their toughness, expert knowledge of the river’s tides and currents, and colorful language. Like essential workers today, their job also brought great risks. The diarist Samuel Pepys described how in a 1665 plague outbreak, watermen were afraid to take passengers, and his waterman “buried a child and is dying himself.” Perhaps, then, John Giles especially enjoyed this happier representation of his life’s work, his river, boat, and home setting in Queenhithe.
Above images and text from Chipstone Foundation Facebook page.
The mission of The Chipstone Foundation is to promote and enhance appreciation and knowledge of American material culture (emphasizing the decorative arts) by scholars, students and the general public.
Below are excerpts from an article by Cath Pound, June 24, 2020 for the BBC.
Link here to read full article and see more images: https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20200623-delftware-porcelain-the-global-story-of-a-dutch-icon
Chinese potters in Jingdezhen, a kiln city in the inland province of Jiangxi, first developed the technology to fire true porcelain in the 14th Century. Its production requires kiln temperatures of 1,300C, high enough to turn the glazing mixture to glassy transparency and fuse it with the clay body, after which designs are trapped between the two layers. The blue and white aesthetic the Dutch would later make their own was itself created to appeal to the Persian market who decorated their own ceramics with cobalt blue designs but could not match the whiteness of Chinese porcelain.
Dutch traders were forbidden to travel inland to Jingdezhen so that the ceramicists could protect their secret. Instead they were required to order from intermediaries, and then Chinese ships would deliver them to Batavia (now Jakarta), the trading outpost the Dutch established in 1619, which would eventually become the capital of the Dutch East Indies.
The popularity of Chinese porcelain meant that almost immediately ceramicists throughout Europe started to imitate it. The most successful of these imitators were, of course, those from Delft. But this was far from a uniquely Dutch triumph. “The tin-glazed technique used for it came from the Middle East to Islamic Spain through the island of Majorca, where the name majolica came from,” explains Lambooy. “In the 16th Century it then went to Faenza, where faience pottery comes from, and then to France.” A lot of Huguenots (French Protestants) then fled to Antwerp to escape persecution but following the fall of Antwerp to Spanish Catholic forces in 1585 these refugees were forced to flee further north. “Potters with Italian roots moved everywhere,” says Lambooy, “although it’s unknown why Delft exploded to become the centre”.
One theory is that beer breweries fell into disuse, allowing potters to take them over, and the fact that Delft was a major centre of the Dutch East India Company meant that there were plenty of Chinese originals for them to imitate. Whatever the case, after a period of experimentation the potters of Delft were producing pieces with all the characteristics of tin-glazed Delftware as we know it by 1620.
Although Delftware was created as a cheaper alternative to Chinese porcelain, which remained in great demand throughout the 17th Century, the ceramics produced were still the finest in Europe. Elites from across the continent, including the Sun King himself, Louis XIV, would order pieces.
Connect with colonialism:
Smaller Delftware items such as pots for exotic spices, including cloves, mace, cinnamon and pepper are an indication of the Dutch Republic’s colonial expansion, no doubt a source of pride for William and Mary. But the monopoly the Dutch East India Company had on the spice trade had a devastating impact on indigenous populations. A more explicit indication of the impact of colonialism can be found in a number of unusual Delft vases which are Chinese-influenced in every way – except for their depiction of black slaves. Although there is no evidence that enslaved people worked in the Delft potteries, whoever designed the vases was more than aware that slavery was part of Dutch culture, both at home and in the colonies.
