I have just returned from visiting South Africa, where I spent the first 26 years of my life. Everyone should emigrate and return decades later. There is no greater thrill! To top it all, my husband and I treated ourselves to time in the bush--or, as Americans would say, we went on safari.  Our time at a luxury private game lodge more than made up for the honeymoon we couldn't afford in 1972.  Before heading back to civilization and our flight home, we took one last early game drive. Were we rewarded!  Feet away from our Land Rover, a splendid female leopard slithered through the long grass, leaped into the air, and caught a pheasant mid-flight. Then she obligingly hopped into the tree right alongside us and devoured her prey, before settling back into the grass and licking her paws meticulously clean.  The wonders of nature never cease to amaze. Even Staffordshire pottery must take a second row seat.....but I am sure that Staffordshire potters too stared in awe at leopards.

Leopards in England? Yes, by the early 1800s the population of larger towns would almost certainly have seen leopards.  The menageries that toured England carried with them all sorts of ferocious felines.  These menageries were educational showcases of sorts. The animals did not perform; their mere presence was entertainment enough. People from far and wide flocked to menageries to see if hitherto mythical beasts really existed.

The little figure group above is one of my collection favorites. It comprises two showmen displaying their leopard, most probably within the confines of a menagerie cage.  The group is really rare. I know of only one other and it is a firm favorite in a particularly large collection. I bought mine from John Howard a few years ago and I am so pleased to have it. It is very colorful and redolent of the fair ground in days gone by--and, as you know, the social history encapsulated in figures fascinates me most of all.

The leopard below is a lovely Sherratt-style figure.  

You can't fault it....but somehow it doesn't push my button. This leopard is a rather ugly looking beast.  Real leopards are such seductively sinuous creatures, their feline power and grace evident in every fluid movement.  But if you find a leopard like this, grab it. Truly a lovely piece of pot.

This leopard, on the other hand, is a monster. It is a  very modern copy of the real thing.  Look at the difference!  I returned from vacation to a flood of emails, most of them asking about figures that are blatant repros of just this sort. Buyer beware--or ask me before you commit.  Happy hunting!

As you may have noticed, I post on this blog every four days.  Wherever I have been in the world, I always manage to keep posting on schedule. Today's posting is a day early because tomorrow I leave for South Africa, where I spent the first 26 years of my life.  Of course, I am incredibly excited, but my itinerary is going to make blog postings almost impossible.  Please don't forget to visit the site on March 1, when I promise to start posting new material.  Meanwhile, there is tons of stuff in the old blog postings and you may want to browse through them.

To those of you who kindly make personal contact with me: rest assured that both Johnny Be Goode and my pottery will have constant company at home. I guarantee that South Africa will yield no early Staffordshire figures, but my photo archive travels with me, so I will have lots to think about on one of the world's longest commercial flights. 

I found a rather unusual figure in the stock of Roger Deville. Roger notes the figure has an impressed number and, I think on that basis, he attributes it to Ralph Wood. Roger is correct in that Ralph Wood used impressed numbers, but so did Enoch Wood. I am pretty certain this is an Enoch Wood figure.  

Isn't it a lovely figure? Roger notes that it depicts St. Anne reading to the Virgin Mary. Is he correct? After all, the figure is untitled.  Hmm...it got me wondering, so I poked around.

The subject of Anne reading to her daughter, the VIrgin Mary, was popularized in mediaeval paintings, but these art works bear little resemblance to our earthenware figure.  

The Fitzwilliam Museum owns this rather similar looking figure--thanks to Stephen Duckworth for telling me about it.  The figure is French, faience, made in Rennes between 1750 and 1799.  And, importantly, it is titled S. ANNE.  Based on this, you may conclude that the Enoch Wood figure is the same subject, and you may well be right.
  

But just when I thought I had nailed the figure as St. Anne, I dug up this Derby figure, 1780-1790, also in the Fitzwilliam Museum.  Derby factory records refered to this figure as The Prudent Mother.  The Prudent Mother is possibly reading to her child from the Bible. I don't think St. Anne entered into the picture at all here. 

Note that the Derby figure more closely resembles Roger's Enoch Wood figure in both the positioning of the mother and child, and in the use of a high-backed chair. Derby paired The Prudent Mother with another figure, which it called Madonna and Child.   

Well, we know what Rennes manufacturers were thinking and we know what Derby intended in the late 1700s--but we do not know what Enoch Wood intended ca. 1825.  The jury is still out, although I must admit a bias toward The Prudent Mother. But if you buy Roger's lovely figure, you can call it what you wish. Ownership has its privileges.

And if you like this figure form, please buy Roger's. Don't buy later versions, such as the one below.

This later figure was made well after Enoch Wood's demise, although it is derived directly from Enoch Wood's figure. Alas, (and I just can't help feeling rather smug) note how quality deteriorated in later years.  Need I point out the obvious differences?  I think not. The picture speaks for itself.  Wouldn't we all rather have the earlier figure, whatever it's name?

Looking around the web today, a couple of interesting things caught my eye. Firstly, this little showman in the stock of Martyn Edgell.

So what's so special here?" you are thinking.  Note the showman holds two horns, both original. In my blog posting at the end of January, I observed that my large photo archive didn't contain a single example of a showman holding both original horns--the raised horn was invariably restored.  Now things have changed as I have added this picture to my collection.

I know you have noted that the bocage is broken. Yes, and I hope it stays that way. An unrestored figure has a certain integrity. I do wish the market place would stop insisting on cosmetic perfection!

Next, I found this sweet little figure at Frost Antiques. This lady with the barrel (sometimes it has ALE painted on it) debuted on the pottery scene circa 1790, made by Ralph Wood.  Other potters adapted the mold in subsequent decades but I can't recall seeing this version, with her very different face.

Note the puddle of blue glaze in the hollow of her apron. Delicious.

Lastly, I love this little reading boy, in the stock of Aurea Carter. A very modestly priced delight, he oozes charm.   Importantly, there is no restoration to the figure. On reading children, I want the hands and book to be original because that is where my eye travels first.

A friend said to me recently that he has difficulty finding small pieces that are interesting.  Well, here one is. I have a comprehensive Dealer List under the SHOWCASE tab on this page.  Use it to shop around.  You never know what you may find.

Today is my husband’s birthday, and among his gifts he will find a naked lady—or at least a topless one. She is pottery, of course.  This rare figure portrays Ophelia, the tragic heroine of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Loved by Hamlet, Ophelia climbed into a willow tree…but a branch broke, and Ophelia plunged into the brook beneath and drowned. Appropriately, our Staffordshire Ophelia has a willow branch wrapped around her.

The figure is rare and even most dealers do not know her identity. The willow is, of course, the clue.  I will be sticking her name on a sticker underneath so future owners know who she is. BTW, doesn't Ophelia look awfully happy for someone who is drowning?  But that's part of the daftness of Staffordshire!

Ophelia was made decorated in color glazes, ca 1780, in the Ralph Wood style. In Early English Figure Pottery by Sir Harold Macintosh, BT (please tell me what BT stands for),  Ophelia is illustrated, height 13-1/2”.  

You can see Macintosh's Ophelia on the left . Macintosh notes the figure is unique and attributes it to Ralph Wood. He also illustrates a colored glaze Hamlet. Of course, Hamlet has a willow branch slung across his shoulder in sympathy with his lost love.  

The figures were also made in creamware decorated with colored glazes. I believe two creamware pairs have been recorded. The pair illustrated on the left is from one of Jonathan Horne’s famed exhibitions. Jonathan noted the figures were possibly made in Leeds. 

I am always searching for enamel-painted figures, and the first example of Ophelia that I saw was striking. Alas, her condition didn’t measure up to my picky standards, so I passed.  Note that this example has the hollow area around the head and torso filled in. This possibly-later modification made the figure less vulnerable to damage in production.

The second example of Ophelia I found was at the Potteries Musuem. She had once been attached to a base, now lost. Somehow this one doesn't push my button. Her face is not pretty and is the willow is too slimy, perhaps?  Academic concern anyway—the figure was not for sale!

Third time lucky.  I walked into our Ophelia on Marytyn Edgell’s stand at the NY Ceramics Fair last month.  I simply fell in love with everything about her. I am into whacky figures and this one fits the bill. To top it, isn’t the base pretty? Aren't the enamels gorgeous?  The figure has had  a clean partial break through the back repaired--it doesn't go all the way around. I don’t mind repairs like this because all the original material is in place.  My figure measures 14-1/4”, the additional height is because of the oh-so-pretty base.  Who made it?  I simply don’t know.  But, looking at her face, I can see why the creamware Ophelia and Hamlet are attributed to Leeds. Our Ophelia has a very Leeds-looking face, long with a receeding chin,

I bought Martyn’s figure quite quickly, almost impulsively, without the usual soul searching I do. Yes, I am a dealer’s nightmare. I lugged her home in my hand luggage and kept her wrapped up for a few days when I got home, wanting to savor the moment after I had caught up with the work on my desk.  Yesterday, I opened her with trepidation, wondering if I would regret my impulse purchase. Not at all. Ophelia is even more beautiful than I had recalled.  Maybe one day I will find her a Hamlet.

PS
Thanks to my friend Stephen Smith--yes, THE Stephen Smith of the fabulous site www.matesoundthepump.com--for telling me that BT stands for Baronet. 
You can read all about Sir Harold Macintosh here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harold_Mackintosh,_1st_Viscount_Mackintosh_of_Halifax