TABLE OF MARKS
(Old Blue-and-white Porcelain Underglaze Painted)
of Painters and Modellers, found usually in conjunction with the Factory Mark of the three blue lines. Painter's mark in blue. Modeller's mark incised.
Mark found on examples of the Bornholm clay period, see Apothecary Jar (illustrated, p. [161]).
On Oval Dish, fine body, and with scale pattern decoration in rich blue. MII (incised). (Illustrated, p. [169]).
Coffee Pot, Bornholm period, ML incised. (Illustrated, p. [161]).
On a Soup Tureen, marked at bottom of vessel inside.
On a Soup Tureen, at bottom of vessel inside, TI on base (incised).
Bornholm period mark. On a Pounce Box, Cup with spout and handle, and other examples.
On a Plate with pierced edge (illustrated, p. [169]).
On a round Inkstand Three lines and cross (in black). K (incised).
On a Pounce Box, at Museum, Royal Copenhagen Manufactory. L (incised).
On a round Tea Caddy, with floral decoration. II (incised).
On a Tea Caddy. Inside rim (in blue). T on base (incised).
On a Small Teapot. Moulded rosebud on lid. Figure 3 (in blue) on rim of lid. Other mark on base (in blue). (Illustrated, p. [167]).
On a Compotier (in blue). At the Museum, Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Factory.
Mark (in blue) on Plate with pierced edge.
On a Soup Tureen and Cover, with lemon and leaves modelled on cover, natural size. Figure 2 (incised).
On a Cup, and other examples.
On a Plate, at Museum, Royal Copenhagen Factory, and other examples.
On Cup, of unusual decoration, with blue banded ornament.
On a Fruit Basket, pierced work, twisted handles, and roses in relief. W2 (incised).
On a Jug at the Dansk Folke Museum, Copenhagen.
On a Dish at the Dansk Folke Museum, Copenhagen. Other numerals are found from 1 to 7.
CHAPTER VII
THE SUCCESSORS
OF MÜLLER
(1820-1880)
THE DECADENCE
CHAPTER VII
THE SUCCESSORS OF MÜLLER
(1820-1880)
THE DECADENCE
Battle of Copenhagen, 1801—Nelson's Letters to Lady Hamilton—The so-called Empire style—The Thorvaldsen period.
The great days of the Müller régime had come to an end. A quarter of a century of brilliant success was followed by twice that length of gloom. The Arctic night of early nineteenth-century years had settled on art. Müller's retirement in 1801 was not the only contributory cause of the decadence of the factory. The French Revolution had shaken Europe from end to end. The Napoleonic Wars following in its wake disturbed serenity and repose in art and letters. The fortunes of States were in the melting-pot, and destiny was "moulding men in plastic circumstance." The storm cyclone had more than once centred around Denmark. The century opened ill for the fortunes of the factory. In April 1801 a British fleet entered the Sound and engaged in a great naval battle with the Danish fleet. "I have been in a hundred and five engagements," said Nelson, "but that of to-day is the most terrible of them all." The genius of Napoleon conceived the idea of "conquering the sea by the land," to quote his own words. Paul I of Russia became Napoleon's ally and tool. Russia brought pressure to bear on Sweden, Denmark, and Prussia, and these Powers were federated as the "League of Armed Neutrality," with the avowed purpose of challenging the maritime supremacy of England. Prussia marched troops into Hanover. Russia seized all British ships in Russian ports, and every port from the North Cape to Gibraltar was closed against the British flag. Behind this combination was the brain of Napoleon.
The story of the battle is well known. The Danes fought stubbornly. The love of the fatherland and the flag, the split flag of old Denmark—the Dannebrog—a white cross on a red field, was stimulated by the poets of the day. Old memories were awakened of the days of Juel, Hvidfeldt, and Tordenskjold. Workmen, peasants from the farms, and merchants from the city hastened to enroll. The students of the university, a thousand strong, enlisted to a man. The Danish ships, supported by the shore batteries, lay in the shallow waters of the Sound. The attacking party had to navigate their ships through narrow and dangerous shoals. On the church towers and roofs hundreds of spectators watched the great fight. There was a dearth of seamen. In some of the vessels there was, so a Danish account narrates, only one sailor in twenty. These raw crews were kept at their drill throughout the night prior to the battle.
LARGE PORCELAIN BOWL.
Painted in colours and richly gilded. Dated 2 April 1801.
With inscription in memory of the brave Danes who fell at the Battle of Copenhagen
(At Dansk Folke Museum, Copenhagen.)
Writing to the Times in 1801, an officer present at the engagement says: "The enemy made a very obstinate resistance and fought like brave men. Most of our ships are very much cut up … and the vessels which have been captured are perfect sieves, there being hardly a single plank in any one of them but has at least ten shot-holes in it. In fact, it was the most dreadfully fought action that ever took place in the annals of history." Of the shattered prizes, only one Danish vessel was fit to be repaired and taken to Portsmouth.
It was at this battle, as every schoolboy knows, that Nelson disregarded Admiral Parker's signal, "I have only one eye," he said, turning to his captain, "and may be allowed to be blind on occasion." Placing the spy-glass to his blind eye he said, "Upon my word, I do not see any signal."
A young Danish officer, a lad of seventeen, Villemoes, commanding a floating battery with twenty-four men, stuck to his post till only four of his men remained. Nelson, after the battle, begged the Crown Prince to introduce the young officer to him. The brave deeds of two great fighting races stand out on that day of awful carnage. Captain Larssen, after the battle, when he appeared in the streets of Copenhagen, was the object of universal homage as the hero of Bloody Maundy Thursday. When he passed Amagertorv, the fishwives would rise and make him a deep curtsy. Yet he passed his days in straitened circumstances and died well-nigh forgotten. No statue commemorates his memory.
But there is a ceramic record of that day of great battle. We illustrate a Copenhagen porcelain bowl, with painted scene, showing the Dannebrog flying and the sea-fight in progress. It was given, painted in colours, to the officers, and uncoloured to the sous-officiers who fought on the 2nd of April 1801. There is one at the Dansk Folke Museum and another at Rosenborg Castle, and the few other bowls in private hands are highly treasured as heirlooms. It is inscribed on a panel:—
Tilegnet
O. Fischer
og alle brave Danske.
Kiöbenhavn 2 April 1801,
af
Roepstorff.
(Dedicated to O. Fischer and all the brave Danes. Copenhagen, 2 April 1801, by Roepstorff.)
It is a sad story—the world-wide-empire dreams of one man had brought devastating ruin to friend and foe alike. There are many memories of the Battle of the Baltic; many links of friendship between the island kingdoms by the sea have been forged since then.
Let us think of them that sleep
Full many a fathom deep
By thy wild and stormy steep,
Elsinore!
Lord Nelson's Letters to Lady Hamilton.—The letters of Lord Nelson at that date have an interesting reference to Copenhagen porcelain. Apart from finding his portrait on Staffordshire earthenware mugs and jugs as a national hero, and commemorative of his victories, he took a considerable pleasure in ceramic art. In 1802 he ordered a Worcester service, pieces of which are found in the cabinets of collectors. His letters frequently contain references to his china, e.g.: "I send by the coach a little parcel containing the keys of the plate-chest and the case of the tea-urn, and there is a case of Colebrook Dale breakfast set and some other things."
CUP (1830-1840).
With view of Kronborg Castle, with shipping on the Sound.
Painted in colours and richly gilded.
(At Dansk Folke Museum, Copenhagen.)
After the Battle of Copenhagen one of his letters to Lady Hamilton is as follows:—
April 14, 1801.
My dear Friend,I was in hopes that I should have got off some Copenhagen china to have sent you by Captain Bligh, who was one of my seconds on the 2nd. He is a steady seaman, and a good and brave man.…
Another letter to Lady Hamilton, written on the following day, runs:—
St. George, April 15, 1801.
My dearest Friend,I can get nothing here worth your acceptance, but as I know you have a valuable collection of china, I send you some of the Copenhagen manufacture. It will bring to your recollection that here your attached friend Nelson fought and conquered. Captain Bligh has promised to take charge of it, and I hope it will reach you safe.…
Ever yours, most faithfully,
Nelson and Bronte.
At this date Müller had not retired from the factory, and Nelson undoubtedly procured some specimens of the best period. It is a matter of conjecture as to whether these examples are now known and in what collection in England they may be found.
Hardly had the echoes of the booming guns died away when Copenhagen was again bombarded by a British fleet in 1807, and the Danish fleet captured to prevent it falling into the hands of Napoleon. A fire had consumed a quarter of the city in 1795, and, succeeded by these later calamities, produced a condition of considerable distress and misery. The porcelain factory had its share of disaster. Falling bombs did irreparable damage: thousands of pounds' worth of porcelain and moulds were destroyed. This last blow was indeed a terrible one for the factory, and helped to complete its ruin.
PLATE.
Painted with flower subject in natural colours overglaze by Jensen. Date 1827 Rich gilding at border with apparently experimental designs.
Mark three lines and | in blue.
(At Museum, Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Factory.)
The so-called Empire Style.—But there came another Continental movement inimical to art in no less degree than war—the great inventive spirit which produced the age of machinery. Art grew impoverished and unfertile. Genius seemed to have descended on the workshop and the loom. The painter, the designer, the creator of forms, and the artist in colours lived in a nightmare of banalities. In regard to England, this industrial revolution has been a most powerful factor in stifling art. In Denmark, happily, this problem has not even yet come with overwhelming force, as there are no mines, no copper, iron, or coal, and the shadowy side of scientific invention and deadening commerce has not darkened the artistic horizon.
In considering the ceramics of Denmark, it should be borne in mind that, owing to an isolated northern position, artistic movements affecting the great European centres were slower in obtaining a foothold in Copenhagen. This in a great measure explains the steady growth of national art on its own lines. It was not until 1824, when G. Hetch became director, that the Copenhagen factory commenced to produce designs, then almost disappearing in other parts of Europe, in the Empire style.
Count Caylus in France and Winckelmann in Germany in middle eighteenth-century days had heralded the oncoming classic movement which had its furore of simplicity under the Empire.
Sir William Hamilton and Wedgwood had carried on the traditions in England. The Copenhagen factory at this date followed the decoration of Berlin and Vienna.
A Cup of this period (1830-1840) is illustrated (p. [185]). This cup is heavily gilded in the prevalent atrocious style. It is finely painted in natural colours, having a marine scene representing the Castle of Kronborg, with the Sound, and a vessel in full sail. It was here on the ramparts that Hamlet met the ghost of his father. To-day the Danish soldiers in blue uniform keep sentry-go on the platform of the bastion. The bugle-call echoes across the Sound, and the grey frowning walls hold the mystery of the poet's dream.
One recalls Hamlet's vigil here, with his "The air bites shrewdly, it is very cold," and Horatio's reply, "It is a nipping and an eager air," and the angry waves beating below and the gathering storm from the north complete the picture.
We recollect the words—
The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,
Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.
And remembering, fall in a muse, to be aroused by the note of the bugle and the clash of arms of the guard.
FIGURE OF MERCURY.
After Thorvaldsen. White porcelain unglazed.
It was here that Charles XII of Sweden came with an army to lay siege, and the place where the manacled prisoners sat in the chapel is yet another link between yesterday and to-day. Here, too, is the tiny room, the prison of the young Queen Caroline Matilda, with barred window, overlooking the stormy sea.
The picture of Kronborg Castle on a cup conjures up a list of tragic memories. It is meet that it should find a record in Copenhagen porcelain. It is a page from Danish history.
Plates of this period show the heavy style that had descended on the factory. Deep gold bands enclose a circular picture, painted in a warm brown colour by Garmein about 1820-1825. They are mainly topographical in character. A plate painted by Jensen is signed with his initial, together with the three blue lines as a factory mark (illustrated, p. [189]). It is a fine flower-subject in natural colours, representing primula, blue flowers, and daffodil. The border is richly gilded and has three distinct patterns; it evidently has been used as an experimental piece. It is now in the Museum at the royal factory. There are other plates painted in colours by L. Lyngbe, in 1831 and 1833 respectively, bearing his initial L. They are decorated in rich gilding by Brandstrup. One represents Söroe (with title on medallion), the Eton of Denmark. The other is of Prince's Palace, Christiansborg, Copenhagen.
The Thorvaldsen Period.—In 1867 the factory came under the control of A. Falck, and the director Holm, although not capable of raising the artistic output to its old level, introduced a new feature in a number of biscuit figures after Thorvaldsen, the great Danish sculptor.
We reproduce the well-known figure of the god Mercury, as indicating the beauty of these productions. Interesting as they are, and undoubtedly possessing great delicacy as replicas of masterpieces of another art, the decadent note is still present in denoting that the modellers had to seek inspiration elsewhere. It is pleasurable to be able to collect a miniature gallery of Thorvaldsen's work in porcelain, but the potting and modelling of them added nothing to the creative faculty of the artists at the factory.
The only productions of importance now conducted were an occasional jubilee or presentation vase made from Hetch's old moulds, decorated with a view of some villa or some edifice associated with the person who ordered the vase. They were usually covered with lilac or purple ground and profusely gilded.
The flame had not gone out, but it was flickering fitfully, and the artistic impulses in painting, and the poetry that had never died in Denmark, were stirring to kindle the fire into renewed life.
Since Höyen, the historian, delivered his lecture in 1844 On the Conditions for the Development of a National Scandinavian Art, artists had turned homewards. There was the national spirit of the northern people, the peasants and the fisher-folk, to make the Danish genre picture. There was nothing northern to be found in Rome. Eckersberg had indicated the way, and with the study of man came the study of nature. Johann Thomas Lunbye, with his cattle and his forest landscapes, caught the somnolent air of cattle before Troyon had set the fashion in France. Peter Christian Skovgaad interpreted the spiritual beauty of the Danish beech-woods; his favourite light was the cold pale day of the northern sky with its sober blue. Kroyer, with his Skagen Fishers at Sunset, and his Fishermen setting out by Night, surrounds the Dansk Folke with mystery and poetry.
To these days belong the rejuvenation of Danish art, and what the painter was doing on his canvas the ceramic artist was shortly to do on his vase and on his placque. The dawn of the Renaissance was at hand.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MODERN
RENAISSANCE
CHAPTER VIII
THE MODERN RENAISSANCE
The after-effects of war—Philip Schou, Councillor of State, rebuilds the factory—Arnold Krog appointed art director—A new technique developed—Triumph of modern Copenhagen porcelain—The new impulses stimulate other European potters—A new note added to European ceramic art—The avoidance of classic or stereotyped styles—The idiosyncrasies of Copenhagen—Intense national sentiment of Copenhagen—Marks of leading painters and modellers.
On the threshold of the great Renaissance of art which re-established the name and fame of the Royal Copenhagen Factory, it is necessary to look at the subject from more than one point of view. The fire which Müller had lit had been burning dimly; indeed, save for the blue-and-white utilitarian ware, it had almost gone out. The Copenhagen factory was a century old in the seventies. Most of our English porcelain factories had put out their furnaces for ever. Chelsea, Derby, Plymouth, Bristol, and Bow had entered that ghostly realm where collectors snatch at the body of the potters and posterity portions out the inheritance of the departed great.
The years of the English porcelain factories, with their triumphs and their decadence, were compassed within the span of a man's life. Plymouth and Bristol, the only hard-paste factories, together ran less than twenty years. Bow succumbed in less than half a century. Chelsea existed only thirty-nine years, and Derby, with all its vicissitudes of fortune, changing hands many times, never reached a century old. The Worcester factory is the only English porcelain factory in existence to-day with a history which goes back to the middle years of the eighteenth century.
PLACQUE. WILD GEESE ON ICE.
Painted in underglaze colours by Arnold Krog. Period 1891-1895.
The half-century from 1825 to 1875, not only in Copenhagen but in every part of Europe, represents a dead level of banality in art. Sporadic attempts to awaken enthusiasm or to stimulate public interest fell on stony ground. Genius unrequited, and hardly recognized, consumed its life energy in solitary grandeur in many a lonely furrow. The period is bounded on the one side by the Napoleonic Wars, and on the other by the Crimean War and by the Franco-Prussian War. In England, artistic impulses were stifled by the rapid progress of the age of machinery, led by the Manchester school of thought—Ricardo and John Stuart Mill. A soil so sterile as this was incapable of producing the highest artistic results. The treasuries of many of the great European Powers had been drained almost to depletion by vital wars, and the little kingdom of Denmark had her share of political troubles. The war-cloud had settled on the isthmus of Schleswig-Holstein. Prussia and Austria and Denmark were whirled in a maelstrom of incessant warfare concerning the duchies of Schleswig-Holstein. All the Great Powers became involved. For forty years the struggle in one form or another broke out anew like a smouldering fire. It was not until 1866 that the Treaty of Vienna definitely assigned the future of the duchies to the Powers. This is not the place to discuss the rights and wrongs of a prolonged struggle by Denmark against more powerful neighbours, but in consequence of the widespread arena of conflict, from Missunde to Jutland, and the large war indemnity paid, it is manifest that the fine arts came very near extinction in such troublous times, when blow upon blow was rained upon the kingdom of Denmark.
The fortunes of the factory were at a low ebb, as we have seen in dealing with the decadent period. But in 1883 the models, stores, and other effects of the factory were sold to the limited company "Aluminia." From this date a new future commenced for the factory.
Philip Schou rebuilds the Factory.—The hour demanded the man, and the man was Philip Schou, who came as the pioneer of modernity. In the outskirts of the capital, close to the park of the Castle of Frederiksberg, large buildings were erected, containing workshops provided with the latest improvements in machines and kilns of the newest designs. The ovens were much larger than the older type, and designed to hold about 15,000 pieces of average size. These drastic changes at the dawn of the Renaissance, entirely due to the foresight of Schou, necessitated the expenditure of a considerable amount of money. It is not surprising to find that during the first years the undertaking, from a financial point of view, did not prove successful. This, at the time, except to Schou, may not have been recognized as the happiest omen, but it is a postulate that art and commercialism do not usually thrive together. It was the same in Müller's day; it has always been an admitted fact, and it always will be acknowledged that the cloven hoof of commercialism has marked the oncoming of a decadent period. But Philip Schou had ambitions and desires which no reverses could thwart. His practical grasp of the situation and his perspicacious conception of future possibilities, which have now been realized, stamp him as a man possessed of that rare combination of poetry and practicability which marks the pioneer of any great enterprise.
PLACQUE.
With autumnal scene painted in underglaze colours. By Arnold Krog. Period 1896-1900.
There are triumphs of great business organization which compel our admiration in no less degree than artistic achievements won in equally adverse conditions. To build up the decayed fortunes of a moribund art, to combat financial disaster and impending ruin, require indomitable courage and intensity of application which cannot be classed other than as genius.
The great period of Müller and the great triumphs were sinking into oblivion. Of the once famous factory it seemed as though little might be left but the name. The old models of beautiful symmetry had long been set aside or even destroyed. The favourite blue-and-white service, the national pattern treasured as the remaining heirloom, had lost all its style and harmony. Haphazard conditions prevailed and slovenly results predominated. Originality had taken wing and deserted the old factory. The old mussel design was painted on any form that found its way into Denmark from other factories. Copenhagen was content to follow, and leave art and prestige to take care of themselves. Now and again artistic productions, such as a wedding or a jubilee vase made from the old moulds, like milestones, marked the road. With this material, with its poverty of art and paucity of ideas, the new director, shrewd and energetic, saw that no headway could be made. A demand for artistic and original decoration of articles of domestic use and luxury was just making itself felt, and there was some talk of creating a national Christian VI style. But the factory has accomplished something greater—it has created a European style.
The early days of the factory, with its new impulses and its youthful spirit of modernity, are reflected at once in the first attempts to inaugurate something of artistic and permanent value. The comparison between Schou and Müller holds good in many respects. They both were men in advance of their day. They were builders, not only in the sense of being pioneers of an artistic industry, but in the practical sense of laying down ovens and expending money on valuable plant as a means to the great end they had in view. The struggle against adversity, the accumulating cloud of financial losses, the want of outside support, are common factors in both these men's sturdy fight against failure. Müller had to combat the inheritance of failure left by Fournier, and Philip Schou had to overcome the deathly inertia that had paralysed the factory during the decadence. It is not easy to find co-operation in face of a general tendency in an opposite direction. Mediocre minds find it more congenial to float unconcernedly with the stream. Schou was the strong swimmer fighting against the current.
There is one other point where he claims kinship with Müller; he was felicitous in the selection of his lieutenants, and his choice of artistic assistance to further his ambitions was as wise as it was phenomenally prescient.
PLACQUES.
Painted in underglaze colours. Diameter 9 inches.
Kestrel by V. Th. Fischer.
Meadow with farmhouse by C. F. Liisberg.
Arnold Krog appointed Art Director.—In 1885 Arnold Krog became an artist at the factory. Trained as an architect and a painter, he had already spent five years in the restoration of Frederiksborg Castle, and like those old Italian craftsmen who made all art their domain, he came to the decoration of porcelain with instinctive appreciation of its qualities.
A happier combination than this could not have been desired. Schou, the business head, the man of strength of purpose, tenacity of will, battling with stern facts and figures, and Arnold Krog, the artist and dreamer, inventing new forms, wrestling with technical problems with a practical skill wedded to poetic impulses.
The days of early Renaissance were filled with eager incessant work, and whatever difficulties surged up to the doors of the factory, Schou resisted them bravely. He believed in the future of the factory, he believed in the work of the artists. It was this great proud belief of a great man in his life's work that created the second great period in the history of the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Factory. This quotation from a fellow-worker of that date shows how lovingly his memory is still cherished: "Optimistic and broad-minded man as he was, he firmly believed that the factory would succeed in spite of all difficulties. He did not look for immediate profit, but left us to work in peace, undisturbed by all the anxieties and pecuniary difficulties with which he, as managing director, must have had to contend."
A New Technique developed.—In regard to the direction in decoration which the new porcelain took, it is interesting to realize how distinct a departure this was from contemporary art. The moment that Arnold Krog awakened to the fact that the body of the porcelain is smooth, white, hard, and of surpassing beauty, that moment determined its future. To cover it with colours or with gold in the overglaze style, as his predecessors had done, was at once to extinguish its innate loveliness. If blue dots and lines could be painted on plates, surely, thought the new art director, other artistic designs could be produced in the same manner. From these premises the principle of underglaze painting was accepted, and has been since followed so successfully.
The determination of the method employed immediately led to the inquiry as to the exact definition such painting was to take. The difficulty now was to decide what to paint. It was obvious that mere ornamentation would lead to nothing new. Could Europe teach Copenhagen anything? It apparently could, at that stage. Accordingly, Philip Schou and Arnold Krog made a tour of Holland, Belgium, France, and England, and visited many of the leading factories. At the Antwerp Exhibition they saw many beautiful things from Sèvres and the other great European factories, but they had to admit that their journey was in a great measure fruitless, as they did not discover what they sought—new impulses for original work.
It was not enough that all traditional arabesques and scrolls should be discarded: the plain white resplendent surface of the ware demanded its place in the scheme of decoration.
At Paris, Arnold Krog visited the collection of M. S. Bing, who had just returned with rich treasures of Oriental art from China and Japan. These masterpieces in bronze, earthenware, porcelain, and ivory, together with drawings and colour-prints with endless variety of composition, brought with them an atmosphere of ancient culture, artistic genius, and unerring instinct, and to the mind capable of unlocking the mysteries of the old unexplored East they revealed their secret.
The immediate results indicate clearly enough that Copenhagen had not "jumped a claim" and found treasure-trove upon which she could live till others gained the secret. There was no slavish imitation of the designs of the Oriental potter, as was the case with Sèvres and with Worcester. With true vision, the results of the East were traced to the original source of inspiration, and henceforth Nature in all her forms, in all her varying phases and moods, became the mirror into which Copenhagen looked to see herself reflected.
With such an ideal before the factory there was work enough for all and much to be accomplished. The records of this period show the incessant labours of all concerned in building anew the fortunes of the factory. Liisberg the sculptor was appointed modeller, and a young apprentice, Hallin, was made his assistant. The extreme difficulty of the technique offered frequent disappointments. The tone is determined by the exact thickness of the layer of pigment applied, and it is impossible to distinguish between the different shades before the firing has taken place. The only guide in this work is a fine instinct. But the enthusiasm of the little band of workers, modellers and artists, was not damped by the vagaries of the furnace. With little enough by way of precedent to guide them, they attained a sure and unerring technique and a complete mastery over the idiosyncrasies of the medium in which they worked. These early years of intense application have created traditions for the factory, and the days of Philip Schou stand as never to be forgotten in the strenuous outburst of initiative industry which has raised a monument to Danish handicraft and culture. In 1902 Philip Schou resigned his position as managing director, and it is pleasurable to record that in a full and complete life he has seen his early dreams realized. He received decoration at the hands of foreign Governments, and in 1888 was made a knight-commander of the Legion of Honour. Copenhagen porcelain had won European distinction, being acclaimed as adding new impulses and teaching a new technique to the older factories.
PLACQUES.
Painted in underglaze colours. Diameter 9 inches.
Bird subject by V. Th. Fischer.
Cow in meadow at edge of lake by G. Rode.
The early successes of the porcelain were as surprising to the leading experts of Europe as they were gratifying to the pioneers of the Copenhagen Renaissance. It is an interesting fact that the first piece painted in underglaze colours was bought in September 1885 by the Duke of Sutherland, whose yacht was lying in the Sound. The Duke paid a visit to the royal factory, and although at that time only three pieces were finished, he carried off a specimen decorated with a stork flying over a lake. Such an historic piece as this is now worth a considerable sum.
Triumph of Modern Copenhagen Porcelain.—At the great International Exposition at Paris in 1889, the Royal Copenhagen exhibit attracted unusual attention. Although the factory was not then in a position to make a grand show of large or costly pieces, French collectors and connoisseurs besieged the show-cases, and the demand far exceeded the supply, ten times the price asked being offered in many instances by disappointed collectors. Within fourteen days of the opening of the Exhibition everything of any artistic value was sold. Coupled with this commercial success came the award of the Grand Prix d'honneur, a rare distinction at that time, especially for so small an undertaking.
At this Exhibition the coloured crystalline glazes were shown for the first time. These, now so well known in the adoption by most of the leading factories of the world, were discovered in 1886 by Clement, the chemist at the Royal Copenhagen Factory, and perfected by his successor, Hr. Engelhardt. (This crystalline ware is dealt with separately in Chapter X.)
The days of the early Renaissance were full of promise—a promise that has not been unfulfilled. The old factories, with traditions of a century and a half, threw off their lethargy at the trumpet-blast of modernity. The Copenhagen factory was like the fairy prince of the romantic tale who blew the magic horn and awakened the sleeping princesses.
The New Impulses stimulate other European Potters.—Art criticism of this period abounds in glowing tribute. M. Edouard Garnier, one of the directors of the Sèvres factory, wrote in the Gazette des Beaux Arts in 1889: "Not one of the foreign porcelain factories which in 1878 threatened to become dangerous rivals to us seems to have made any progress; on the other hand, the beautiful exhibits of the Royal Porcelain Factory of Copenhagen are quite a revelation to us: they show quite a new spirit in the art of porcelain-making."
Among the varied developments at this time considerable attention was given to the form of the blue-and-white "mussel"-painted ware, and a wonderful variety of shapes followed each other in quick succession. All the old artificial and oftentimes meaningless designs which had crept in during the decadent period were discarded, and were replaced by tasteful and natural designs which were conceived with a view to the characteristic lines in their decoration. The great and wonderful inventiveness and rich variety of this table ware in its thousand forms are therefore the consummation of the incessant search for truth and symmetry and beauty which characterized the early Renaissance period.
PLACQUE.
Painted in underglaze colours, by C. Liisberg. Diameter 12 inches.
If proof be needed of the great influence Copenhagen art exercised on contemporary ceramics, the proof is ready to hand. Just eleven years after the Paris Exposition of 1889 came the great Exposition of 1900, and an examination of the grand-feu specimens of the Sèvres factory shows to what extent the delicate tones of the new Copenhagen technique in underglaze painting had affected the French potters. Crystalline glazes had by this time been developed. In 1894 M. Edouard Garnier, of the National factory at Sèvres, in again passing judgment upon the work of Copenhagen, refers to the fact that two specimens exhibiting "marvellous skill in the execution"—the Flight of the Sparrows and the Lilacs—were bought for inclusion in the modern collection of ceramic art of the Sèvres Museum, and to this museum Hr. Philip Schou sent the first specimens of varied colorations "au grand feu" and the experiments made by Hr. Engelhardt of full or partial crystallized glazes.
In regard to the general atmosphere of the grand-feu ceramics, the Sèvres factory had by 1900, the year of the Exhibition, turned with such fond eyes to Copenhagen that the results then offered, triumphs though they were, reflected something more than usual of the Northern spirit. For instance, one remembers the two great biscuit groups in hard porcelain for table decoration at the Élysée, by Frémiet, the master sculptor. These were 4 feet 8 inches in height, and were marvels of fabrication. The one was the Athenian Minerva, and the other the Scandinavian Diana standing in her chariot, with a hound at her feet and driving two reindeer. These were the first pieces of so great a size ever made in biscuit at Sèvres. Figures of Northern animals followed the success of the factory by the Baltic, and there was one, a Wolf tracing human steps in the snow, by M. Valton, which won commendation. Nor was this all. The grey tones were successfully reproduced in the Danish Dogs, by Gardet.
There is no greater tribute to pay to the inspiring genius behind the Royal Copenhagen Factory than to enumerate these instances of old factories with the prestige of Sèvres and Meissen hailing the newly awakened spirit of a younger factory. On every side, in these days, came the tribute of praise generously given by masters of technique and by rival workers in art. The Renaissance was something more than a name—it had become an accomplished fact.
The great achievement of the modern Renaissance period is the creation of a new technique in underglaze decoration, which has added something to modern European ceramic art. The underglaze blue, employed at the old royal factory by Müller, was familiar from early Meissen days. But the revelation that underglaze painting of landscape had become something more romantic than Chinese prototypes was a fact only realized after Copenhagen had made successful experiment. The landscape of the Oriental potter, at the best, had something of formality and followed a convention alien to Western laws of perspective. Differing essentially from the enamel colours of the overglaze Continental work, and not less so from the glost-kiln colours of the English factories in their underglaze work, the grand-feu colours, with their scheme of harmonies imparted something fresh and original to the art of the modern potter.
It is, therefore, of great interest, commingled with considerable speculation, to contemplate the various stages of evolution of this characteristic style, and to await the future phases of its development.
In reviewing the work of this Renaissance period, an attempt has been made by the writer to arrive at some conclusion as to that exact point of time at which the genius of the factory reaches its whitest heat during a brilliant quarter of a century of work. In a rich field of design which exhibits so much character and freshness, when new surprises may come forth from the oven at any moment, no inconsiderable difficulty presents itself in selecting any period where the work is more excellent.
Happily, in contemplating the underglaze productions of Copenhagen, there is an extended period which may be passed in review. It is perhaps natural, when making tests of the general output of work, to select the middle years as productive of ceramic art of the highest order. There is the advantage in point of date of being able to apply a standard to it, either side by side with earlier work, or in comparison with later creations in the same style of decoration by the same band of artists and modellers.
The number and character of the decorative pieces produced at the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain Factory during the ten years from 1896 to 1905, to which the highest praise has been given, seem to indicate that a close investigation of the details of the work of the individual modellers and artists might with advantage be pursued by those cosmopolitan collectors intent on acquiring masterpieces representative of the highest modern ceramic art.
PLACQUE. SNOW SCENE WITH SETTING SUN.
Painted in underglaze colours. Signed A. Smidth.
Personal tastes and predilections are not unimportant factors in passing judgment upon the present-day work of the factory, but the authorities of museums in various parts of the world, whose standard is a high one, have not hesitated in selecting modern examples of Royal Copenhagen porcelain. In following the trend of the development of the porcelain since the great outburst in 1900, when at the Paris Exhibition by general acclamation Copenhagen was acknowledged to be ahead of all other European factories, disinterested critics and less disinterested competitors have eagerly watched the progress of the Danish ware. Art requires no passport to cross international barriers, and foreign experts have enthusiastically admitted that the work of Copenhagen is of surprising beauty. At successive exhibitions, when nation has stood in friendly rivalry with nation, the ceramic record of Copenhagen has not been dimmed by equal work. So far it is still in advance of every one in Europe. Imitators it has, and, as the old adage puts it, "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."
The question is always asked of factories "with a past," whether it be Sèvres or Meissen, Wedgwood or Worcester—Is the work of to-day an echo of past glories, has the lamp burned dim, is the sacred fire still alight? In regard to other factories this is not the place to make any pronouncement, nor is it impossible to say that at any moment the spirit of the presiding genius of these great factories with great traditions may awaken to inspire anew the modern potters upon whom the mantle of succession has fallen. To cover European factories in a survey is often to come upon silent and deserted temples with decrepit worshippers offering sacrifices to a dim and distant past. But the oracle may yet speak.
It is here that Copenhagen, with its great period of overglaze work, under the Müller régime, holding equality with the great factories of its day, as we have shown in earlier chapters, now comes forward with a second great period of underglaze work, bearing no immediate relationship with the first. Holger Danske has awakened to give magic potency to the Danish art.
The following are the chief characteristics of Royal Copenhagen porcelain. It is always hard fired au grand feu, and the various classes of the underglaze decorated ware may be summarized as follows:—