Review by Anton Gabszewicz
The Origin and Development of Bow Porcelain, 1730–1747, Including the Participation of the Royal Society, Andrew Duché, and the American Contribution

Pat Daniels. The Origin and Development of Bow Porcelain, 1730–1747, Including the Participation of the Royal Society, Andrew Duché, and the American Contribution. Faringdon, Oxon, U.K.: Resurgat Publishers, 2007. 343 pp.; 91 illus. (some color). £50.00 (hardcover).

There can be no doubt that the library of every connoisseur and collector of English porcelain should contain this attractive and scholarly volume, but by no stretch of the imagination is it an easy read, nor can it be glossed over. Much of what Pat Daniels has to say is both thought provoking and innovative, but her prose style can be dense and difficult to follow.

The text is presented in sixteen chapters, setting the scene with an excellent historical introduction and concluding with “Let the Porcelain Speak.” This last chapter has the most controversial content. However, before considering this, Daniels has gone to great pains to discuss the American side of the story, placing the events in the Carolinas and contemporaneous events in London into historical context.

I greatly welcomed the opportunity to review this book so that I could consolidate my thoughts on the way in which the author has handled her subject. Clearly, this may be considered on two levels. From the historical aspect, on which she is extremely thorough, she writes too contortedly; not only are her sentences of heroic length, but also, by the time she reaches the end of these involved and complicated chapters, the thread has been completely lost in verbiage. For example, even after several concentrated attempts and with careful note-taking I found the important chapter 3, “John Campbell’s Letter to Arthur Dobbs,” to be unintelligible. However, this is not to say that the content is either inaccurate or erroneous; the author simply lacks the ability of straightforward communication. I have no doubt that an editor would have been a great asset here. I feel mean in saying this, yet she is making a subject of great relevance and importance to the ceramic historian all but inaccessible. It is a shame that the first time anyone has tackled this subject from both the historical and the ceramic angle that the author has managed, probably through no fault of her own, to alienate the one group of readers she would most wish to attract.

We ceramic enthusiasts have to wait until the latter part of this book for the chapter of greatest interest: “Let the Porcelain Speak.” Although this topic is indeed the essence of connoisseurship and expertise, I again was dismayed on reading this chapter. Not only is Daniels putting forward a suggestion that at first seems preposterous, she also relies heavily on weak scientific evidence, namely that Bow was using soaprock and therefore making a steatitic porcelain. Through this assumption an entire tranche of early porcelain formerly attributed to Worcester production is now tentatively suggested as Bow. Reading through this chapter again, I have no argument with the author’s assessment of continuity of design between the “A”-marked class and the early Bow mainstream production, but why try to make these Bow pieces as early as 1744? This is where it comes unstuck; it simply does not add up. From time to time many of us wish we could adjust available facts to fit a specific scenario, but wishing does not make it work. The total reliance on science is, I believe, fatal. I have stated before the importance of science in a supporting role, but here Daniels takes the evidence as being the last word and it simply is not. Ceramic scholars have accepted the rectangular tea canister in the National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne, long considered Chinese, as belonging to the “A”-marked class; this is possibly true, but it does not mean that pieces of this pattern can be attributed to Bow if they happen to be steatitic (figs. 30, 31). Illustrated in the text are small baluster cream jugs (figs. 36a–b, 40–43), mugs (figs. 44a–b, 45) and a blue-and-white coffee cup (fig. 45)—all traditionally attributed to Worcester and now put forward as possibly from Bow. I understand if this is the author’s way of inviting comment, but it is a dangerous practice, as a suggestion in print so readily becomes fact in the hands of a manipulative future author.

Not content with this, the author continues, later in the chapter, to reassign to Bow the fine busts of George II and their elaborate wall brackets—as well as related pieces, including a plaque of Susannah and the Elders—on the grounds that they are made of steatitic porcelain, and Bow was the only factory during the mid-1740s to have used soapstone, referring to the Melbourne tea canister as supporting evidence. She reinforces her argument with the statement that the subjects under discussion relate to the mid-1740s, particularly that the busts were made following the king’s victory at Dettingen in 1743. She suggests that the subjects depicted are too early to have been made at Chaffers’s Liverpool factory. Another aspect of the Bow production that she discusses is that of the early commedia dell’arte figures. She particularly refers to two early white figures of Harlequin and Pantaloon (figs. 88, 89) that, she suggests, might belong to the late 1730s, stating that bone ash was being supplied by Lacy in Savannah as early as 1743/44. Daniels continues with this statement: “Unquestionably, they were on sale in London well prior to the Meissen models designed by Kändler and Reinicke for the Duke of Weissenfels circa 1744–5” (p. 292). Why? I cannot see that the author provides any factual evidence for this assertion.

Another matter that comes to mind is whether the author has seen and handled the pieces she discusses. This is the whole crux of the matter: Connoisseurship is gained through experience and expertise, through handling the pieces, discussing them with other enthusiasts, and forming a balanced opinion, even if that opinion is not necessarily the correct one. It is not found by taking a scientific fact and making the objects fit your scheme as a matter of convenience. Even so, The Origin and Development of Bow Porcelain, 1730–1747 is certainly a remarkable and thought-provoking book that deserves careful consideration. In this short review, I have mentioned a few of the intriguing matters Pat Daniels has raised, and they are not to be rejected out of hand. She presents some intriguing possibilities, but provides few answers.

Anton Gabszewicz, Pimlico

Ceramics in America 2008

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