In honor of this week's Democratic National Convention—and the parade of feisty Democrats crossing the convention's stage—we are showing a few of our own favorite donkeys, now in-stock at LEO Design. (If your tastes lean towards elephants, click "continue reading" then please click here.)
This fella, a 1950's wooden toy, is composed of articulated limbs, ears and tail. He is painted in red and black—with a watchful eye and a yellow mouth.
I stayed-up way too late last night, watching the first night of the Democratic National Convention. And so it begins. Why am I exhausted already? (In truth, I've been exhausted for eight years.) Perhaps things are more convenient when they are in one's own time zone.
To the rescue! This little bronze donkey can help us get through the next 76 days—and the possibly-contested days to follow. On the bottom of each little hoof you'll find the letters K, I, C & K. He's a Kick Ass kind of guy.
And if, perchance, elephants are more your thing, click here to see something you might prefer.
211 days until Saint Paddy's Day! Thus, what better time to share this handsome Irish ceramic bowl, made in the Sixties. Modernist, indeed, but decorated with fascinatingly ancient (and timeless) Irish Celtic knots. This bowl was made by Wade (an English ceramics company) in its Irish workshop which opened in 1946 (in Ulster, Northern Ireland). The designer was James Borsey (1920-1977). The line, called "Celtic Kells," was comprised of six different pieces and was inspired by decoration in the illuminated manuscript, The Book of Kells (c. 800), which can now be seen in the Trinity College Library, Dublin. This line was made in very limited production runs—and only for a couple of years in the Sixties. Much of the production was...
Autumn will be here in a little over a month—time to start tidying-up for the Winter. In times past, before homes had summertime air conditioning, the semi-annual ritual of swapping window screens for storm windows (and vice versa) was part of the seasonal cycle. But which custom-fitted screen (or storm window) went into which window frame? Brass tacks—like the set shown above—came to the rescue. Each set of tacks was numbered (in this case, 1 through 15). The homeowner would press a numbered tack (let's say #7) into his window frame, a matching tack (another #7) into the the corresponding window screen frame, and a third matching tack (#7) into the proper storm window. This way, screens and storm windows are...
Yesterday we shared some newly-acquired glasses. Here is a sister set—every bit as beautiful, though in a different way. In truth, I prefer this smaller, flared shape (perfect for wine). This little sister, however, only has six glasses (compared to her sibling with ten + one). But the hand-cutting is superb and the finishing terrific. And the all-important "handfeel" is really nice.
I cannot keep myself from buying nice drinking glasses whenever I come across a handsome set. But there are several varying (and competing) factors which must be weighed and compared during my purchase decision. The most important criteria: the shape of the glass (tumblers, please), the quality of the glass (nicely finished), and the "handfeel" (which is hard to define in words). Of secondary importance is the cutting or applied decoration, if any (not too frilly, please; Greek key fretwork is ideal; no applied decoration is fine). Another important factor: how many glasses comprise the set? Two or three glasses? Never. Four glasses? Everything else needs to be perfect. Six glasses? Acceptable. Eight glasses? Now we're talking! Ten...
On this day in 1057, King Macbeth of Scotland was killed at the Battle of Lumphanan. Macbeth, himself, had taken the throne in 1040, when his forces killed King Duncan I (who was attempting to invade Macbeth's northern territory). Upon Macbeth's death, his supporters immediately elevated Macbeth's stepson, Lulach. But Lulach was not long for the throne; he was a weak king and would soon be assassinated by his successor, Malcolm III (son of Duncan I, the king who had been killed by Macbeth). Macbeth (Macbethad mac Findláech) ruled during a period of Scottish history known as The Kingdom of Alba (900-1286 AD). This era ended when England's King Edward I, seized power. Macbeth was called "The Red King," due to...
On this day in 1040 AD, Macbeth's army killed Scots King Duncan I. Macbeth held the Scottish throne for the next 17 years.
Duncan—known in Scots Celtic as Donnchadh mac Crìonain—is represented in Shakespeare's tragic play, Macbeth (1606), as an older man. In fact, King Duncan (1001-1040) was crowned at 33 and died at the tender age of 39. He did have at least two sons, both of whom also appear in the play: Máel Coluim Mac Donnchadh (Malcolm) and Domnall Bán (Donalbain). Macbeth was cousin to King Duncan and a duke, as well.
Hawaiian musical legend, Don Ho, was born on this day in 1930. He is best known for his signature song, Tiny Bubbles, written by Leon Pober in 1966. The song was originally written for Lawrence Welk who turned it down. Ho recorded it and it spent a bit of time on the 1967 pop charts: #54 on the Billboard Pop roster and #14 on the Easy Listening charts. After it became a hit, other artists covered it—and even Lawrence Welk performed it on his television show several times. Don Ho was born in Honolulu (as I was), though his family moved to Kaneohe—on the Windward side of the island of Oahu (as my family did). After a period of service...
On this day in 1851, Isaac Merritt Singer obtained a patent for improvements he created to the sewing machine. Though he did not invent the original sewing machine, his design changes made the machines smaller, more reliable, easier to use, and easier to manufacture. He emulated the mass-production examples of gun makers (like Samuel Colt and Eli Whitney) with their modern production lines and reliance upon interchangeable parts. Prior to this, sewing machines were big, bulky, complicated industrial machines—better suited to cobblers, harness makers and other industrial settings. Singer's smaller, reliable machines could be used in the home. And they were affordable. His mass-production drove-down the price of a new sewing machine from $100 to $10 (equivalent to about $400...
Let's end this week's homage to the "Cat Ladies" with a wistful tribute to the kitty who graced our garden for about a year. Last year, this handsome feline started visiting us, often waiting for us outside our back door. He lived under a yew bush in the protected, fenced corner of our yard. I built him a little cat house (for the bitter winter). While I never saw him go inside his little A-frame, I often saw him leaning-up against it—warming himself in the sun. Twice a day—in the morning and at twilight—we'd find him waiting for us, in our back "courtyard," expecting delivery of his cat food. We fed him on our back porch, though he remained skittish, never approaching his food...
This week, we're sharing some of our favorite felines—a tribute to "the cat ladies" who inspire, teach and lead us. Surely this is an authentic cat lady—complete with her kitten, sitting upon her shoulder, snuggling in the crook of her neck. Such hand-carved wooden sculptures are often called Blackforest Carvings, whether or not they are strictly from that specific Bavarian region of Southern Germany. Many carvings of this type were also made in Switzerland or Alpine (Northern) Italy. It seems that mountainous regions, the world over, lend themselves to artistic woodcarving. For one, there are always plenty of trees. Secondly, mountain farmers (or herders) may find themselves forced-indoors during the harshness of winter—giving them plenty of time to create seasonal crafts (and not just...
There is a fine line between a feline's sense of play and her instinct to hunt. Cats—of every size, shape and variety—are known to be stone-cold killers. For this reason, keepers of house cats are strongly encouraged to keep their charges indoors all the time (for the sake of the billions of birds killed by American cats each year). When playing with a cat—with a laser pointer, a string, a paper bag or a retractable mouse—it is clear that her skill as a huntress is tied to her sense of play. Is your cat trying to "kill" her catnip mouse? Or is she only playing with the lizard in the backyard? (And why does she so often drop her "trophy" at...
This week, we're sharing some of our favorite felines—a tribute to "the cat ladies" who inspire, teach and lead us. A cat's arched back. Is it a hiss, a stretch, or an appeal for a friendly scratching? This cast iron kitty, made in the Teens or Twenties, is a doorstop by Hubley. The Hubley Manufacturing Company was founded in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in 1894. Shortly after the Turn-of-the-Twentieth-Century, Hubley began manufacturing cast iron animals—like the doorstop shown here—and other cast iron toys: cars, trucks and "heavy equipment." As the century progressed, Hubley shifted to cast-zinc items and became most well-known for its collectible scale model cars. This heavy, cast iron cat was designed to be a doorstop. It would look great, however,...
Is there any greater luxury than an afternoon nap? Even if you're too busy to indulge in such a pleasure, you might enjoy watching this little kitty, curled-up, enjoying forty winks. He is made of stoneware, finished with a thick and curdled mocha-caramel glaze. He will happily serve as a little paperweight. Or be content to just lie-around, perhaps on the windowsill, making the place even homier.
From Japan we have this wonderful Modernist house cat. Her simple—but sensuous—lines convey much feline energy and attitude. Made of heavy cast brass, hand-chased and polished to a mirror finish. A wonderful paperweight or "whatnot" to keep you company on your desk, windowsill or bedside table.
With so much in the news lately about "cat ladies," we thought that LEO Design was overdue paying tribute to them. Childless? Sometimes. Miserable? Not that I can see. This week we will share some of our favorite little felines, now in-stock at LEO Design. Each of these kittens will wait patiently at home—cheerfully and loyally—until "their special ladies" return home (whether from work, from vacation or from the polls). Here's to the cat ladies!
This little fella is sculpted in brass, finished with a verdigris bronze patina. The sculptor has captured perfectly the hunched, coiled energy of a feline—confident, relaxed, but ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Not unlike some of those cat ladies I know!
Yesterday we presented August's birthstone, the Peridot. Today, let's talk about August's birth flower, the Poppy.
Poppies are thought to have originated in the Eastern Mediterranean and have been cultivated by Western and Central Europeans from about 6,000 BC. Early on, people recognized the analgesic properties of the plant. Ancient Egyptian doctors had their patients chew a mouthful of poppy seeds to relieve pain. Even today, poppies are cultivated as a source of opium, morphine and codeine—powerful narcotics. Recent and reckless use of Oxycodone, which is synthesized from poppies, has caused grave problems for so many. And the illicit drug trade has profited from the poppy—through the sale of heroin, another derivation of the flower's seeds.
Welcome, August, and your birth stone, the brilliant Peridot. Let's begin with the basics: how does one pronounce "Peridot"? In the dictionary, the first (that is, the preferred) pronunciation is "Peri-dot" with a "hard T." The second option is "peri-dough"—which I suspect is the more popular pronunciation amongst fancy jewelers (and others who are trying to sell the gemstone). Peridot is a clear, gemstone-quality variety of Olivine—which is one of the very few gemstones which is formed in the Earth's hot, crushing mantle (most gemstones form at a much shallower depth, in the Earth's Crust). The peridot radiates a brilliant green color—thanks to the presence of iron—and it presents within a fairly tight color range (on either side of lime green). It...
Let's end our week of LEOs in Summer with this little guy—a bronze sculpture of a small, but brave, lion. Spontaneously modeled (perhaps a touch Rodin-ish), this little boy has the letters COURAGE impressed upon his tiny tummy. It's a great sentiment for someone who is setting-out on a new journey. Or, perhaps, someone who is facing a daunting challenge. And, of course, it would be warmly-received by any LEO you know.
This week, we're presenting some of our favorite felines—The LEO in Summer—which can be found in our LEO Design on-line shop.
Here's another Turn-of-the-Century cast iron lion bank—probably first owned by a child who was being encouraged to save his coins. The two halves are separately cast, then screwed together. Whether used to hold coins or not, this handsome LEO has a richly-aged patina. He'll provide good company on a desk, bedside, or windowsill.
Antoine-Louis Bayre (1795-1875) is arguably the world's all-time greatest animalier—that is, a sculptor (or painter) of naturalistic animals. He began his studies as an apprentice jeweler, working under Napoleon's goldsmith. He was admitted into the École des Beaux-Arts, in Paris, and enjoyed spending time sketching the animals in the ménagerie at the Jardin des Plantes (the city's botanical garden which contained a small zoo—housing the animals moved from Versailles during the French Revolution).
Spelter is a metalic alloy—mostly zinc, usually combined with various other metals, like tin, antimony or lead. In the Nineteenth Century, spelter became very popular as a casting alternative to bronze. When cast, it conveys fine detail very well and is lighter and less expensive than bronze. But spelter is also very brittle (subject to cracking, if dropped). All manner of decorative objects—clocks, trophies, candlesticks, bookends—were made of spelter. After casting, the pieces can be patinated, like bronze, or painted, like the lion above. Being economical (and easier to work with, due to its lower melting point), spelter was perfect for making inexpensive toys like soldiers, animals or game board parts. Our lion shown here, standing atop his mountain,...
Lions have been used in heraldry for millennia. Different poses—called attitudes—would indicate different characteristics. The turn of the head, the lifting of a paw (or paws) were given different names. A Lion Rampant is one who is rearing-up, standing on his two back feet or one back foot. A Lion Sejant is seated, front paws together on the floor (like a house cat). A Lion Couchant is lying on his belly, head raised (like a sphinx). Our cast bronze lion, shown above, was modeled in the American Midwest, thus, I'm not sure if heraldic conventions were being observed. If I were to take-a-stab at identifying his attitude, I would say Lion Statant Guardant Sinister (which means, a lion standing on four...
Wednesday's LEO was stalking. Thursday's LEO was static. Today's LEO is fierce—roaring while he strikes with his left paw. The pair of cast iron bookends, shown above, portrays a ferocious lion as he might appear in a circus—or on a circus poster. Most of the original golden finish remains intact. And the "Cubist" boulder, under foot, reflects the times in which this lion was sculpted—in the Twenties. The sculptor succeeded in creating a model full of energy, action and fury. Indeed, this LEO is a monarch.
Before Venmo or Apple Pay or Zelle, people saved and spent real money—cash dollars and coins. Good savings habits were encouraged in youngsters by giving them a bank into which they could deposit coins—to save-up for a special purchase or to hold-fast for a rainy day.
The cast iron lion bank, shown above, was just such an item. In it, a child could save his or her coins and have a wonderful companion in their bedroom. Traces of the original golden paint remain on the lion which was made at the Turn-of-the-Twentieth-Century.
With all due apologies to Henry II, let us have a look at some of The Lions in Summer—at LEO Design. Over the next few days, we will present some of our favorite felines, currently in-stock in the LEO Design on-line shop.
Shown here, a stalking lion, crouching, creeping, preparing for the strike. Most lion bookends capture the "Majestic Lion"—a regal feline posing for the sculptor. Here we see him in-action. The sculptor has beautifully captured the tense, coiled energy of a big cat—ready to pounce. Our hunting hero is shown atop a jagged rock, perhaps a jutting cliffside or promontory. It's a nice, old-fashioned aesthetic, beautifully sculpted in the early Twentieth Century.
LEO is here, monarch of the zodiac! And, of course, that lucky lion is the namesake of our little shop, LEO Design.
For the next few days, we'll be sharing some of our favorite LEOs—now on-line and available for purchase on our website.
Shown above, a nicely-cast spelter lion. The details are superb and the cold-painting (that is, done after casting) is lovely. It is not marked but I suspect it was made in Austria or Germany.
We're one-third of the way through Summer—two more months to go. Is it too soon to start planning for Fall? Actually, the Platinum Leaves tumblers, shown above, are crisp and clean—perfect for Summer (or Winter, too). Imagine an icy G & T bubbling within these streamlined glasses. Made in the Fifties, this set of eight footed tumblers are decorated with frosted sides and platinum leaves. The top rim of each glass is decorated with platinum—an elegant touch which also helps protect the glass edge. Each glass holds 12 ounces (if filled to the brim).
We're in the final weeks of Cherry Season—that time of the year when domestic cherries are at peak harvest. But you can have cherries all year long—with this handsome brass wall plaque depicting drooping clusters of cherries and the leaves which shelter them. This English Arts & Crafts plaque will enliven "that perfect little spot which needs a little something." It was made around 1900 or shortly thereafter.
Are humans naturally drawn to Authoritarianism? Or, rather, do people yearn to live free? For centuries, historians and philosophers have studied various peoples living under monarchs, dictators and thugs. Why do some people prefer "to just let Daddy take over"? In 2024, we still do not know this answer.
Throughout history, there have been moments of people standing up to overwhelming Authoritarianism. Most of these moments have been bloody, deadly, and have spawned unpredictable results. Ultimately, history will be the judge of whether these revolutionaries are labeled "Patriots" or "Criminals." Remember: the winners write the history.
We've spent the last few days—during the Dog Days of Summer—sharing a few of our favorite dog-related items, now available on the LEO Design website.
Let's end our parade of playful pups with this duo of eager Scotties—a pair of bookends made in the Twenties or Thirties. Beautifully cast—with handsome detail—and patinated with a rich bronze finish. A verdigris bronze patina suggests grass growing around the fence. Who among us wouldn't delight at coming-home to such a joyful, loving pair of loyal friends?
In today's selection, our dog plays a background role in this printed English hunting scene by Sir William Nicholson, R.A. (1872-1949). Nicholson was a wonderful fine artist. His painted portraits and still life pictures are wonderful. But he is most famous for his Late Victorian woodblock prints—which were reproduced in portfolios using the relatively new lithographic technology of the day. The shooter, wearing his natty green hunting coat, was printed as part of An Almanac of Twelve Sports in 1898. It is conservation framed in an equally handsome 19th Century frame—carved to imply rustic wood—which still wears its curdled, well-aged original finish. Print and frame make for a handsome, deluxe "package"—ready to hang in the office, den or sitting room....
This vigilant terrier will stay his post all day long—while also holding-open your door. He was cast in iron and hand-painted by Hubley in the early Twentieth Century. Hubley was founded in 1894 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. They made toys and decorative objects including bookends and cast iron doorstops. In time, they produced cap guns and are best known for making collectible scale models of automobiles after World War II. This terrier can still hold-open a door. He would also look terrific on a mantelpiece, on a desk or guarding a windowsill.
In "The Olde Days," cigarettes and the sporting life went hand-in-hand. Thus we have here a cast brass ashtray of two English birddogs, emerging from the water, in pursuit of their assignment: to gently retrieve their master's (or mistress's) birds. The bas relief sculpting is nice: interesting, detailed, full of energy. And one need not smoke to make use of this English brass tray! At bedside it would make a great place to keep one's rings or cufflinks—or perhaps a supply of collar stays. On the desk, it could hold one's clips or coins. And, at the front door, it's a great place to stash one's keys—from where one will always remember where to retrieve them. And, for those who smoke,...
We're spending a few days—During the Dog Days of Summer—sharing a few of our favorite dog-related items, now available on the LEO Design website.
This little fellow—a cast iron pup—is painted black and trimmed with a red bow. It was probably a child's collectible toy in the Teens or Twenties. His slouchy demeanor and attentive gaze are captivating—and oh, so cute.
Over the years, I've bought and sold hundreds of pairs of bookends. A good percentage of these have featured dogs. And a good number of those dogs have been terriers. And, yet, I have never come across this pair of bookends before.
I love the sculpting on these bookends: the dog is handsome, alert, and inquisitive. The sculptor has captured perfectly the attitude of a terrier. The color is rich and waxy. And the mark on the back—one I have not encountered much—tells us that this pair of bookends were made in New York. There were some foundries in New York City, though most of the country's brass foundries were found in Central Connecticut.
I've always loved the Aesthetic Movement. The crisp, handsome graphics—sometimes with a touch of Asian influence—is the elegant predecessor of both the Art Nouveau and the Art Deco movements. Shown here, a Wedgwood English Aesthetic Movement ceramic plate. The plate "blank" was decorated with a sepia-toned "transfer" pattern—a common manner of applying detailed decoration to ceramics in the Nineteenth Century. It allowed the manufacturer to print the patterns (on paper or film) rather than require each plate to be hand-painted. I have not seen other plates like this one, but I am guessing that the original set of plates may have sported a variety of different dog- (or hunting-) inspired scenes.
We're spending a few days—during the Dog Days of Summer—sharing a few of our favorite dog-related items, now available on the LEO Design website.
When it comes to Hollywood Style, few dogs can beat a Terrier—especially a Scottie. This fabulous pair of American Art Deco bookends are made of "Silverlite"—a proprietary material of the Russel Studios in Chicago. Our Scottie, proudly alert, stands before a magnificent Art Deco architectural backdrop. The bookends—the architecture, the silver color, the Scottie himself—scream "stardom!"
We now find ourselves in "The Dog Days of Summer." This year, the period spans from 3 July through 11 August—the period during which Sirius the star appears on the morning horizon and travels its visible path across the sky.
Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky. Its name comes from the Greek, meaning "glowing" or "scorching." It keeps company with a larger cluster of stars, a constellation, called Canis Major (meaning "The Greater Dog"). For millennia, humans have noticed, studied and tracked this special star—often attributing great power to this celestial fixture.
Happy Independence Day! When ranked lists of American presidents are compiled, Abraham Lincoln is usually found sitting at the top of the list. Less frequently, he earns second place (behind President George Washington). When asked, "Why is Lincoln number one?" the answer is a reflexive, "Well, he saved the country." This answer is good and true. But there is more to Lincoln—the man—that makes him a role model for all Americans, even today. In my view, he possessed several qualities and achieved signal accomplishments (in addition to "saving the nation"). Most importantly, Lincoln expanded liberty and freedom to more Americans. He moved the country one (giant) step forward on its trudge towards "Liberty and Justice for All" (a march still...
In the Hebrew Scriptures, Wednesday is the fourth day of the week. Genesis tells us that God created the Sun, the Moon and the stars on this, the fourth day. The greater orb, The Sun, would rule The Day. The lesser orb, The Moon, would rule The Night. Similarly, most Muslims view Wednesday as the fourth day of the week (which begins on Sunday). In those countries which observe Friday as "the day of rest" (for example, Iran, Somalia or Djibouti), Wednesday is their fifth day. Most modern Christians consider Wednesday the third day. In German, Wednesday is called Mittwoch (that is, "Mid-Week"). Finns say Keskiviikko or "Middle-of-the-Week."
At LEO Design, Hanukkah is coming early this year. I just received my cast bronze Hanukkah Menorah—beautifully-sculpted in the form of a wind-swept cypress tree. As beautiful as it is for Hanukkah, one might just want to keep-it-out all year 'round. Atop a mantelpiece (where one cannot see the candle holes), one might not even realize that it's a menorah. Click on the photo above to learn more about this handsome piece—which is sure to become a treasured family heirloom. An interesting fact: this year, Hanukkah begins on the evening of 25 December—Christmas Day. Of course, Hanukkah falls on different days each year (as it follows the ancient Hebrew calendar which is based on the cycles of the Moon). ...
Welcome, July, and your handsome birthstone, the ruby! Rubies have always been amongst the most precious of "cardinal" gemstones—along with diamonds, emeralds and sapphires. In fact, rubies and sapphires are just different colors of the same stone: Corundum. This clear, hard stone is principally aluminum oxide. Different metallic "impurities" give the stone its different colorations. In the case of rubies, chromium is the impurity which makes it red. Corundum becomes blue (a sapphire) due to iron and titanium impurities. Both rubies and sapphires are very hard (which measure 9 on the Mohs Scale); only diamonds (with a hardness of 10) and moissanite (9.5) are harder. The most beautiful, valuable stones are used for jewelry. Lesser examples are used for watch...
I cannot help but think of the Sun when I look at this cheery, Bavarian Jugendstil porcelain vase. A handsome Art Nouveau floral pattern peeks through the gilt glazing. It was made by Graf & Krippner in Bavarian Selb—in Germany, along the Czech border. Having been created so close to the Austro-Hungarian border helps explain the "Viennese aesthetic attitude" of the vase. The mark indicates it was made in the company's earliest years, 1906 to 1911. Selb is famous for its porcelain manufacture and is the headquarters of the Rosenthal manufactory. While the piece can be used to hold a stem or two, this vase is perfect for standing as punctuation within a collection of gold ceramics or glassware.
Today, at 4:50 pm, Summer will have officially begun. Today is also the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year—that is, in the Northern Hemisphere. It's the shortest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. As every schoolchild learns, the Earth spins on a vertical axis, an axis which tilts back-and-forth over the course of the year. On the day of the Summer Solstice, the North Pole (that is, the Northern axis), is tipped as close to the Sun as it will get. Thus, today, the Northern Hemisphere is receiving maximum Sun exposure (and the maximum number of hours of sunlight). Starting tomorrow, the axis will begin to slowly tip-back, away from the Sun, and the days' periods...
What does "Freedom" mean? Poets, scholars, philosophers and theologians have been arguing the word's meaning for centuries. And it's possible that different people may hold a differing definition of "freedom" in their hearts. Nevertheless, freedom is important to all people, however they may define it.
In one very important way, on this day in 1865, America took another step toward its promise of freedom. Federal troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, to enforce President Lincoln's executive order, The Emancipation Proclamation—which had become effective a year and a half earlier. Texas—one of the Confederate States—deliberately had not informed its slaves that they had been liberated. Union General Gordon Granger rode into Galveston to announce (and enforce) the law.
On this day in 1917, the first Pulitzer Prizes were awarded—in three categories: Biography, History and Journalism. They were awarded by Columbia University in New York, thanks to an endowment by Hungarian immigrant, József Pulitzer (1847-1911), who had made a fortune in American publishing. It was Pulitzer's bequest which had established the Columbia School of Journalism in the first place. Pulitzer was born to a Jewish family in Southern Hungary, near Romania. His father was a successful merchant and eventually moved the family to Pest (along the Danube River, the eastern portion of Budapest). The Pulitzer children were privately tutored, learning French and German. When Pulitzer's father died, however, the family went bankrupt, forcing the young József to find work....
Despite the wisdom of the Carpenters, neither rainy days nor Mondays "really get me down." Not when I have such a handsome English Arts & Crafts "stick stand." A variety of woodworking techniques—piercing, turning, chamfering, crenelation—create a most handsome and useful piece. And the brass drip bowl is well-darkened with years of hard-earned patination.
On this day in 1946, the people of Italy voted to abolish their monarchy (54% to 46%) and the Republic of Italy was born. From this point, by law, no male heir to the crown (or queen consort) was allowed to set foot on Italian soil. Within 11 days, King Umberto II left Italy peacefully, never to return. He lived most of his final 37 years in Cascais, along the "Portuguese Riviera." This last Italian monarch, Umberto Nicola Tommaso Giovanni Maria di Savoia, had only been king for about five weeks. His father, Vittorio Emanuele III (who had ruled since 1900), stepped-down and let his son succeed him. The former king, Vittorio Emanuele III, was exiled to Egypt and died...
June is here—with her flower, the Rose.
Roses have grown in the wild for tens of millions of years. 50-million-year-old rose fossils from the Eocene Period (which means, roughly, "The New Dawn") have been uncovered by archaeologists in Colorado. Roses are depicted in Minoan art (circa 1400 BC) and in Egyptian tomb paintings shortly thereafter. And ornamental roses are known to have been cultivated by the Chinese, Persians and Mediterraneans from about 500 BC. There are over 300 different species of natural roses and tens-of-thousands of man-made "cultivars" (that is, special varieties of roses purposely bred to accentuate selected traits like color, size, fragrance, form or hardiness).
The capstone of my trip to England was to see my husband's production of The Marriage of Figaro at Garsington Opera, nestled in the Getty Estate at Wormsley—half-way between London and Oxford. Bob designed the scenery and costumes. The Garsington Opera was founded by Leonard Ingrams, a financier and operaphile. The operas were performed on the stone terrace of Leonard & Rosalind's home—Garsington Manor which was built in the 1630's and added-to every century since. A temporary, tented auditorium provided about 500 seats. The Ingrams's living room became the domain of light boards, electrical panels and stage management. The kitchen became a make-up room. The bedrooms, dressing rooms. After Leonard died in 2012, the Garsington Opera company found a new patron—Mark...
Cardinal Thomas Wolsey—the highest-ranking official in the English Catholic Church and the closest, most-trusted advisor to King Henry VIII—began building Hampton Court Palace in 1514, on the grounds of a Catholic religious order, about 12 miles outside of London. It would soon become the grandest palace in all of England—built to compete with the finest Renaissance palaces of Europe (an intentional political statement). The powerful cardinal—with his connection to Rome—was able to bring-to-England the energy of Italian Renaissance design, then the cutting edge of style. When Wolsey fell from the king's approval, the cardinal offered the palace to Henry as a token of submission (in 1529)—an act which did not spare Henry's wrath and revenge. Henry did, however, love the palace...
I've already stated my admiration (my adoration?) of John Singer Sargent. In my book, he is the finest artist of the Modern Era. What I admire most about him is the bravado, spontaneity and confidence of his brushstrokes. He tells us so much with a single squiggle of his brush. And, although he was the finest of portraitists, one can only know him when they see a fuller representation of his work—especially the pictures he painted "for fun." Right or wrong, I feel that I know Sargent. I believe I can tell (within reason) what he was feeling when he was painting a particular portrait. My conclusion: he loved being with (and painting) fun, larger-than life women. And he really...
This morning we took the train from Oxford into London. We went into town to see the ravishing exhibit at The Tate Britain: Sargent and Fashion. My husband and I both would rank John Singer Sargent as the finest of Modern Era artists (where "Modern" is defined as "from the Industrial Age onwards"). We had hoped to see the same show in Boston, where it originated, but were unable to make that trip before it closed at the Museum of Fine Arts. So here we are—in London, where Sargent lived for a time and did a good bit of his work.
Perhaps the most famous college at Oxford—with one of the largest financial endowments—is Christ Church College. Its founding began with Cardinal Wolsey who began building Cardinal College in 1525. Thomas Wolsey, a Catholic priest and cardinal, was extremely powerful—sometimes referred to as Alter Rex ("The Other King"). As cardinal, he was the highest ecclesiastical authority in England (that is, until Henry VIII, his benefactor, took that position for himself). As England's Lord High Chancellor, he was the most important advisor to the king. And Wolsey's fingers seemed to be in every pie: managing religious matters, reforming the tax and judicial systems, collecting art, and driving one of England's biggest building booms in its history (unsurpassed by most British kings). As a churchman...
Elias Ashmole (1617-1692) was an English naturalist, politician and "collector of curiosities." Although he had aristocratic ancestors, his family had fallen into "a less exalted position" by the time he was born. Through good marriages (and his support of the monarchy during the English Civil War), he re-established the Ashmolean fortune. After Charles II was restored to the throne, a series of important appointments helped fund his incessant collecting of art and antiquities. He was especially interested in the sciences—which were advancing greatly during the Age of Enlightenment.
In Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited, Charles Ryder (played by Jeremy Irons in the television series) seeks a place for him and Lord Sebastian Flyte to reside together during their final term at Oxford. Charles relates, "The weeks went by; we looked for lodgings for the coming term and found them in Merton Street, a secluded, expensive little house near the tennis court." Money wouldn't be a problem; Sebastian was very wealthy. But the strength of their love affair would be tested: by Sebastian's alcoholism and the social disapproval of the times. Brideshead's author, Evelyn Waugh, was at Hertford College. His friend, Hugh Lygon, was at Pembroke College. The two did live together for a time on Merton Street in the...
Oxford's architectural grandeur should not distract one from the smaller details—the exquisite handcraft—which adorn this medieval city. The University is comprised of numerous colleges—each secreted behind well-fortified walls. Mystery abounds; what beauty lies behind each protective barrier? Luckily, there are abundant little teases which we, the General Public, are permitted to see. Little gems of sculpture decorate Oxford. Shown above, one of several carved stone lion gargoyles along the Western exterior wall of Saint John's College. The college, founded in 1555, is arranged around seven interior quadrangles. It was all-male until 1979 when the school became co-educational. Because of its lucrative real estate holdings (it owns the land beneath many 19th Century Oxford homes), Saint John's College is the wealthiest...
When I travel to England, I typically shoot straight into Central London. On this trip, however, I collected my rental car at Heathrow and drove-up to Oxford. My husband, Bob Perdziola, is working at the Garsington Opera (half-way between London and Oxford). We are staying with good friends in Oxford. Oxford University was established in 1096—making it the second-oldest university in the world (behind the University of Bologna, established in 1088). Oxford consists on 43 self-governing colleges, each of which admits its own students and manages its faculties and premises. The University's most-iconic building, shown above, is the Radcliffe Camera ("camera" is from the Latin for "room" or "chamber"). It was built between 1737 and 1749 (with funds left by physician...
Richard Wagner was born on this day in 1813, the ninth child in his family. His father died when Richard was six months old and the boy grew-up believing that his stepfather, Ludwig Geyer (a playwright and actor), was his biological father. Young Richard took music lessons and was enchanted with the theatre. He participated in Ludwig's stage productions. While he struggled with the technical rigors of piano exercises, he was able to write music and reproduce opera scores by ear. He also pursued playwriting. At 13, he began writing a tragedy which he hoped to musicalize. The next year, after he first heard Beethoven, he wrote a piano transcript of the composer's Ninth Symphony. Mozart inspired him, too. Wagner...
This week we're sharing some of our favorite Springtime cufflinks—like the smart and handsome pair shown above. Bold stripes of lime green and bright white enameling add fresh Springtime energy to this pair of English Art Deco sterling silver cufflinks. They're sporty, clean, and perfect for Spring and Summer.
Cornflower blue—with its blush of purple—has always been a favorite color of mine. As it was for Dutch Master Johannes Vermeer. The cornflower is the national flower of Estonia. And the "Cornflower Blue Sapphire" is the most valuable of all sapphires.
This pair of Art Deco enameled cufflinks juxtaposes most-satisfying cornflower with the crisp contrast of bright white. Perfect for Spring—and into the Summer, as well.
Spring, glorious Spring! New growth. Fleeting flowers. Getting dirty with Winter clean-up, early weeding and fresh plantings.
One of the most beautiful parts of Spring—aside from the longer and warmer days—is the soft Springtime colors. So, this week, we will be sharing some of our nicest "Spring Beauties": cufflinks which capture the soft beauty of the season.
Shown above, a pair of sterling silver Art Deco cufflinks with soft celadon green enameling. Swirls of machine-turned guilloché provide subtle, radiant energy.
When I was a boy, I remember the Fuller Brush Man coming to the house every couple of months. His range of items on-offer seemed endless, a brush for every conceivable household purpose. There were toothbrushes, toilet brushes, hair brushes, scrub brushes—even brushes to clean other brushes. My mother usually placed a little order with each visit. We don't seem to use as many brushes today. Or as often. In the past, many households—working or middle class—had a "hall butler" near the door: a hanging mirror with hooks or a shelf to hold a few brushes, It was customary to take a quick look in the mirror before leaving the house. And one could brush-off any lint or dandruff...
In the 1990's the City of Pittsburgh built a shiny-new airport for its homegrown airline, US Airways. The city spent $1 billion dollars, satisfying US Airways's wishlist of cutting-edge requests. Completed in 1992, the New York Times called the new Pittsburgh Airport "The Airport of the Future." US Airways was founded, as "All-American Aviation" in Pittsburgh, in 1937 as a mail delivery service. Before long, the airline began carrying regional passengers and, in 1953, it renamed itself Allegheny Airlines. The airline changed its name again, to USAir, in 1979. After acquiring a handful of other regional airlines, it operated an extensive national and international network of routes. In 1997, they changed their name, once again, to US Airways. The carrier flew...
Heraldry is "the system by which coats-of-arms and other armorial bearings (that is, "military symbols") are devised, described and regulated." To some, the study of heraldry may seem like a frivolous pursuit. But the "art and science" of heraldry is deadly serious to those who employ it: monarchies, militaries, religious denominations, aristocratic families, and hierarchical societies. The use and regulation of heraldry is all about propriety and rules. Different institutions—sometimes over centuries—have developed heraldic customs and subtleties that must be complied with, monitored and enforced.
This is a French lemonade pitcher with a twist. The porcelain form—jug, spout, handle—was made in Limoges, France, fired with the classic, smoothly-finished porcelain surface. Then it was shipped to Chicago, USA, as a "blank," to be hand-decorated by American artisans. The piece was made by Tressemanes & Vogt (in Limoges) and hand-painted by the Jacob Stouffer Company (in Chicago). This arrangement was sometimes orchestrated by ceramics makers in order to create variety of the end product—to create products which would appeal best to the end consumer. It also allowed a company like Stouffer (which specialized in excellent ceramic painters) to avoid having to manufacture their own blanks (a whole separate area of expertise). Stouffer could purchase (more economically) higher-quality...
Mayo, Maypo, Maypole, Maple. Some days the puns flow more easily. Today's not that day.
Day-in and day-out, regardless of the month, this maple "dish" remains handsome and moderately useful. It is cast of pewter and finished with a brassy wash. The dip in the center makes it perfect for holding a few small objects: paperclips, cufflinks, rings or house keys. It would also "present" a small stack of business cards with "North-of-the-Border" style.
Here is a trio of bowls to give your next dinner party a lift! These three bowls, "squeezed" into their triangular shapes while the glass was still hot and pliable, are finished with a heavy "mirror fade" silver rim. They were made by Dorothy Thorpe in the Sixties—who would purchase quality glass "blanks" from other manufacturers and decorate them with her signature silver trim. These three bowls are great for nuts, candy, or assorted trimmings on a sundae bar.
Like the candlesticks we shared earlier this week, this elegant pair of American Arts & Crafts candlesticks have a botanical inspiration. The "cups" resemble tulip buds, just ready to open. The shafts reflect tapered, tightly-bundled tulip stems. And the "bobeches" are cut into a scalloped, petal-form shape. The entire candlestick is hand-hammered and silver-plated. They were made in Meriden, Connecticut around 1910.
These Eighties Modernist slab-footed glasses are not very old, more vintage than antique, but they are good quality crystal and have a nice handfeel. The gently-curved vessels sit atop a chunky, foot.
One of my favorite finds of the last few months: a pair of English Arts & Crafts turned mahogany candlesticks. The "cup" at the top has a tulip blossom or poppy pod floral-form. And "knuckles" at the top and bottom of the reed-thin shaft give visual weight to the turning. Truly elegant! And much more impressive in-person.
Perfect for a bowl of ice—on a Fifties Modernist bar cart—this footed glass bowl is simple, elegant and just the right size. It also could be used to serve nuts or candies. The 22 karat gold band around the top rim adds a confident measure of glamour. It measures six inches across and holds 24 fluid ounces. Click on the photo above to learn more about it. Though our Greenwich Village store is now permanently closed, LEO Design is still alive and well! Please visit our on-line store where we continue to sell Handsome Gifts (www.LEOdesignNYC.com). We also can be found in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania, at The Antique Center of Strabane (www.antiquecenterofstrabane.com). Or call to arrange to visit our Pittsburgh showroom (by...
Exercise clubs are believed to have been developed first in Persia, called "meels," which were used in individual and group exercise routines. They later became popular in India where Colonial British soldiers discovered and adapted them for their military fitness regimens. It was at this point that they began to be called "Indian Clubs." English Commonwealth and American civilians embraced them during the Late Victorian age. The clubs range in weight from about a pound (for use in calisthenics) to very heavy (up to 100 pounds, for resistance training). After World War II, and the advent of more sophisticated exercise equipment, Indian Clubs lost their popularity. Today they are most often used as a decorative accent for a clubby, athletic...
Though the Modernist graphics on these glasses are somewhat ambiguous—are they Greek Key Labyrinths? Tribal shields? Chinese chop marks?—they do add Mid-Century punch to this set of four Sixties highball tumblers. One row of graphics are applied in 22 karat gold. The other two rows are executed in white and black enameling. Each glass holds 12 fluid ounces.
On 5 May 1862, Mexican troops successfully defended the forts of Loreto and Guadalupe from the larger, better-equipped French forces of Napoleon III. The two forts sit atop a hill overlooking the city of Puebla (about 75 miles Southeast of Mexico City). Although the French came back the following year—and took Puebla—the 5 May event served as a motivating rallying cry for Mexican troops.
Today, Cinco de Mayo is more-widely celebrated in the United States (as a celebration of pan-Mexican culture) than it is in Mexico. However, in Puebla, the day remains important and one can visit two forts which are now history museums.
It's "Star Wars Day"! May the Fourth be with You!
I have always been attracted to otherworldly, "planetary" ceramics glazes—dappled, lunar, extraterrestrial finishes, reminiscent of foreign planets (real or imagined). What they lack in bright color, they provide amply in texture and sophistication. I keep a collection of them displayed together (most to be found in the LEO Design on-line store) and enjoy the bold impact of contrasting shapes and organic surface patterns.
The German Modernist vase shown above, made in the Sixties or Seventies by Emons & Söhne, wears a dappled grey glaze over a chocolate brown under-color. It reminds me of the planet Mercury or some yet-to-be-discovered moon.
Hawaiian Green Sea Turtles, called Honu, have always been found living in and around the Hawaiian Islands, where I grew up. When I was a boy, most people thought of them as cute, nothing more. Other people hunted them, mounting their lacquered shells on their walls as trophies. But, since I left the islands for college in the early Eighties, Hawaiian Green Sea Turtles seem to have crawled back, regaining their ancient, iconic status as native, indigenous creatures—as symbols of Hawaii and its people.
As a LEO, I am fond of cats reflexively. (I also love dogs and have one, Benji.) Alas, I remain unaware of any non-shedding cat breeds. Therefore, my appreciation for cats remains at a distance, for now. The cast iron cat doorstop, shown above, was made by Hubley (in Lancaster, PA) in the Teens or Twenties. It leaves no scattered fur, it scratches no upholstered furniture, it requires no litter box. It is, though, beautifully sculpted—the artist capturing the arched-back energy of a stretching cat (which appears to be smiling—or, perhaps, scowling).
In many parts of the world, May First is "May Day"—a day to honor laborers, those people who make their livings with their hands and bodies. Strangely, the notion of celebrating workers strikes some Americans with suspicion. Are these people afraid that workers will take over the government? Form unions? Ask for a raise? I have great respect for workers because they are (usually) craftsmen—people who have learned to build or fix things with their hands. Is a woodcarver's artful creation any more beautiful than the best work of a master cabinet maker? A superb painter? An exacting boiler installer? What about a tailor? A cook? A barber? Technical skills, fastidiousness and good taste serve all the trades (and craftsmen)...
Here's a little place to safekeep your little treasures. Modeled after a traditional Nineteenth Century British money box, this little steel trunk is painted with the classic English black and gold. It's a great place to stash a couple of cufflinks, save a collection of baby teeth or present that special piece of jewelry.
Three charming monkeys remind us to "mind our P's and Q's." Nicely modeled bas relief primates pose within an architectural proscenium arch. These cast iron bookends were made by Bradley & Hubbard in the Twenties or Thirties. They still have their original golden finish.
Waiting at the airport is rarely an enjoyable experience. At least, at the Honolulu International Airport, there is an Asian garden to enjoy—a bit of peace and nature amidst the hustle of passengers and the smell of jet fuel. A lagoon, stocked with koi, adds another measure of zen before we board our flight for home.
It's our last day in Hawaii. So we're heading-out, cloudy or not. The sun is up there, trying to break-through. All we need is a little finishing-touch to our tans—which, as usual, seem to crack, peel and fall-away during the long, dry flight home.
On Oahu—where I was born, went to high school, and completed my first two years of college—we'll be catching-up with several boyhood friends. And going to the beach. One of my favorite beaches on the island is called Lanikai. It is in Kailua, which is right next to my hometown of Kaneohe. Lanikai Beach is gorgeous. It's popular, and it's not very big, so there's usually a crowd (and very little parking). But the water is perfect: gentle, shallow and turquoise blue (more like the Mediterranean than the North Pacific). It's perfect for children and those grown-ups who are not interested in extreme water sports. It's just beautiful.
Our time on Kauai has come to an end. Today we head for Honolulu—to spend a few days with friends before returning to Pittsburgh. Our Hawaiian Airlines jet awaits us on the ramp. See you on Oahu!
The storm has (mostly) passed. A nice morning view from my brother's front deck. The top of Mount Waialeale—called "the wettest spot on Earth"—is capped in fluffy white clouds. It should be a nice day at the beach.
Poipu, on the Southern coast of Kauai, has the most consistently sunny beaches on the island. There are no guarantees, but the leeward (Southern) shores in Hawaii typically are warmer, drier and sunnier. For this reason, many of the island's resorts are clustered here.
My favorite hotel on the island is the Grand Hyatt Kauai in Poipu. While it is, indeed, a big resort, it is also designed and decorated in very good taste (at least within the common areas I have seen—I have never needed to rent a room). What makes the hotel most attractive is the sensitive way in which such a large property is incorporated within the local topography.
Tropical storm or not, today looks great. True, lots of clouds in the sky—but they're big, soft and fluffy. It will be a good day for the beach (especially at the start of vacation, when my winter white skin can use a bit of shade).
But, before the beach, a walk around my dad's acre of heaven. He's an avid gardener and he has many new plantings to show me. Shown above, a skywards view from his front yard: palms, sky, and (lots of) clouds.
What a reassuring sight: our tropical-livery airplane already was parked at the gate marked "Lihue." After a long, cold and busy winter, we've been looking forward to our Hawaii getaway. My father's celebrating 89 years this year—and my nieces and nephews are a foot taller each time I see them. The jolly aircraft, being prepared for departure in sunny Denver (shown above), was nearly ready for boarding. I love the United flight from Denver to Lihue. If you can snag an upgrade, that route has lie-flat seats (which the flights from LAX and SFO do not).
Benji—shop dog extraordinaire and beloved friend—is good at reading the writing on the wall. He quickly senses when "something's up." When he sees me packing my lunch for work or sees us gathering items for a short excursion, he will post himself near the door—unwilling to be left out of the action. And when we really start packing (like suitcases), his anxiety begins to rise. (For this reason, I keep the suitcases stashed in the attic until the last possible hour.)
Among the first Arts & Crafts antique pieces I purchased for my store was a piece of matte green ceramics. It was an extra-large jardiniere and it sold right away—in the first couple of days of business. Since then, I've had a particular fondness for matte green pottery. It has such a wonderful, natural, organic look. When displayed on wood, it is reminiscent of the leaves on a branch. I find the color and the finish restful.
We have been taught, "A prophet is never accepted in his home town." It seems this was the case for Charles Rennie Mackintosh, the foremost designer of the Scottish Arts & Crafts movement. His influence, during his lifetime, was more eagerly embraced outside of Scotland than it was at home. Many of his Scottish architectural designs were never built. He eventually abandoned architecture and focussed his later years on watercolor painting. Naturally, once he had died in 1928, his work became increasingly popular in Glasgow and his legacy has now been firm established. Today, one cannot walk five steps in Glasgow without seeing some kind of Mackintosh-inspired graphic or souvenir.
Italian Count Ugolino of Pisa was involved in the political struggles which ravaged Medieval Tuscan society. Like Dante Alighieri, the Florentine, Ugolino found himself on the wrong side of the political fight. As a result, in 1289, he was imprisoned in the Muda, a Pisan tower, along with two sons and two grandsons. The tower keys were flung into the Arno and the five family members were cruelly starved to death. Dante (then exiled in Ravenna) featured Ugolino in his Divine Comedy. As the count lays starving in the tower, his sons and grandsons beg their beloved father to eat them—thus preserving his own life. While Dante illustrates the complex anxiety of a man pondering the canabilism of his offspring,...
Some painters seek to flatter their subjects. Others work very hard to do just the opposite. I suppose it comes down to this: Is the painter working for the sitter or is the sitter working for the painter? In the American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I came across this charming scene, pictured above. A father kneels besides his son, perhaps explaining the painting to the lad, Washington Crossing the Delaware by the German-American painter, Emanuel Leutze (1851). I had never been drawn to the painting. It always seemed so staged, so theatrically heroic. It has always seemed (to me) to be a "highly-inventive portrayal"—though it does chronicle an actual moment in America's early years (Christmas Day, 1776)....
I was standing before my (likely) all-time favorite picture in the Metropolitan Museum of Art when I heard the rumble. It was more of a sound (and a vibration) than a shaking. "Do you hear that?" I asked Bob. It sounded like a slow-speed freight train passing-by on railway tracks—perhaps half a mile away. The only problem: there are no freight rail tracks in Central Park. And the New York City Subway System has spared Fifth Avenue any tracks buried below it. Moments later, the mobile phones of gallery guards began to ping. Husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends began to text their loved ones to report the 4.8 magnitude earthquake which could be felt in the city. Some twenty-six minutes...
Standing near the Eastern edge of Central Park, just behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is the Ancient Egyptian obelisk known as Cleopatra's Needle. It is over 3,000 years old. During a visit to Egypt eleven years ago, our guide in Alexandria left us with this exhortation: "Please ask your government to send-back the obelisk." Actually, there had been a pair of obelisks in Alexandria: one which went to London and its mate which went to New York. In 1819, Muhammad Ali Pasha, the Ottoman Viceroy of Egypt, presented the two monuments as gifts—one to the Brits, the other to the Americans. At that time, one obelisk was still standing; the other had toppled-over (probably during the Crete Earthquake...
After a brutal, nine hour drive through a torrential (and continuous) Spring storm, we finally arrived at the Emerald City. It never fails: each and every time I exit the Holland Tunnel into Lower Manhattan, I exclaim, "Civilization! I'm back!" We came to New York City for a few days to see our accountant, visit friends, attend other events, and have a little fun. I also was delivering a customer's purchase—something a bit too delicate to ship easily. After arriving at our hotel—later than planned—we unpacked and took a little pre-show nap. We had tickets that evening for the Metropolitan Opera: Franco Zeffirelli's Turandot. Any evening in the Metropolitan Opera House is an event. The enormous proscenium arch, the rising chandeliers, even...
