I HAVE TO ADMIT that I was
one of those who had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the San Francisco
Bay Area during the height of the first dot-com boom. It’s not that I hated San
Francisco (and there were certainly many reasons to hate it then) but it was
because we really loved Chicago. We had a beautiful apartment in Oak Park near
the Frank Lloyd Wright houses, and we spent almost every weekend in the city or
out and about hunting for “our stuff”. Chicago, at that time, boasted some of
the best flea markets every weekend— from the giant one in Kane County, to the
smaller ones in Grays Lake and DuPage. Our favorite was the flea market set in
the bucolic farmlands of Sandwich, Illinois. It was here on a cool autumn day,
as we wandered through the rows of vintage country treasures, that we found our
first set of Monmouth Western Stoneware plates. Cream glazed with blue stamped
decorations and impossibly thin for stoneware, we were mesmerized.
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Monmouth Western Stoneware had a line of bird-shaped serving pieces (above top: teapot, lidded sugar bowl, and creamer) as well as more traditional shapes (above bottom: sugar bowl, coffee pot, stick-handled creamer, and teapot) |
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Our
fascination must have showed on our faces as the seller came forward and said,
“They’re nice, huh? I just sold a huge set of these to a dealer in Nauvoo.
Can’t remember the guy’s name, but he runs a hardware store there and sells
antiques in the back.”
OK, if this happened today,
I would whip out my iPhone, go to Google maps to find Nauvoo, and get the
directions pronto. But this was 1997 and the fastest computer we had was at
home with dial-up to AOL. Even there, we found nothing. I naturally turned to
the Yellow Pages and started ringing up hardware stores in Nauvoo. With no clues
other than the unusual hardware/antique store combo, I was able to track the
dealer down. “Yup,” he said. He had a set for sale—plates, cups, and some weird
duck-shaped bowls. $300 for all of them, he said, as I blanched on the other
end of the line. Yes, he would hold them for us but we would have to come right
away. I was able to convince Brad (my partner in crime) to come with me after
teaching his class the next day, and off we went on a 270-mile trek to the Iowa
border.
As luck would have it, we
would pass through the town of Monmouth on the way to Nauvoo. It’s always a
thrill to “go to the source”, and although the factory was long gone, we were
able to hit a couple of antique stores, one of which yielded a beautiful
duck-shaped covered dish with a hand-painted multi-color decoration.
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Bird-shaped casseroles, tureens, and shakers. The duck-headed ladle for the soup bowl was a lucky find. |
By late afternoon, we reached Nauvoo and promptly
found the hardware/antique store. The set was HUGE. Chop plates, luncheon/salad
plates, cups, saucers, butter pats and serving pieces in the most charming decorations, from dots to scrolls, prancing
horses and barnyard chickens. There were dinner plates with fishes, tadpoles,
snowflakes and funny turnip-like creatures.
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Butter pats or coasters with whimsical motifs |
Most fascinating were the bird-shaped bowls, covered casseroles, tea
set, and cruets with
bird heads for stoppers. There
was also one odd piece that he brought up from the basement. “You can have this
one for free,” he said. “I can’t figure out what it is.” (The odd piece turned
out to be the main body of a soup bowl.
We later bought the bird head-shaped ladle from none other than Schiffer Books
author, Jo Cunningham.) (see photo 3 top
center) With the loot stowed safely in the backseat, we started our journey
back to Chicago as the evening was setting in.
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Dinner plates with tadpoles, ponies, and polka dots |
I need to be honest at this
point and let you know that I am not the best car owner. It actually took me a
year before I realized that I had to change the oil in my GMC Tracker. Even
then, I had no idea where the oil dipstick was located. So my poor 10-year-old car,
which had already endured several cross-continent treks and was now being used
for impromptu weekend foraging trips to far flung Milwaukee, Madison, and
Minneapolis, was probably not in the best of shape. As we climbed a hill
toward the town of Galesburg, the engine began to sputter. We slowed to a
crawl as a couple of pick-up trucks full of teenagers passed and threw McDonald’s
bags at us. We reached the top just as the engine died and, by pure luck, we
rolled right into a gas station. Unfortunately, the shop was closed and we
would have to spend the night at a nearby motel. The next day, the mechanics
declared that they could not repair the car, so we had to arrange for a rental
and a tow truck to take us back to Chicago.
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Salad plates with some very rare decorations |
Our little adventure ended
up costing us about $500 (dishes included). It was a lot of money back then for
a young couple living on an associate professor’s salary—but it is a story that
we have told time and time again with much laughter and love. These pieces of
Monmouth Western Stoneware have now come to represent for us a time when we
were happiest—when we were optimistic enough to follow a whispered lead and young
enough to throw caution to the wind and just go.
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Stoppered cruets with a bud vase that can also serve as a candleholder. |
A bit about Eva Zeisel Fine Stoneware from Monmouth
Pottery
I really can’t improve upon
the scholarly work done by Scott Vermillion on this subject that is included in
the book, “Eva Zeisel: Life, Design, and
Beauty”. Designed in 1953, the stoneware line included conventional and
unconventional shapes, the bird-shaped dishes being the most unconventional.
Eva’s design was daringly modern because it pushed traditional stoneware into
the realm of fine china, yet unabashedly sentimental in its use of folk
decorations similar to those from her native Hungary. When production ceased at
Monmouth, several molds were transferred to the Hollydale Factory in
California, which introduced a short-lived line called Eva Zeisel Hi-Fi
Stoneware in 1957. The next evolution of this design
came from Schmid International in 1964. Although made from ironstone and a
completely new set of molds, the Schmid line retained the playfulness and
whimsy of the original Monmouth line, albeit more formal in silhouette and
sophisticated in presentation. Some pieces from this line have recently been revived by World of
Ceramics/Orange Chicken and Eva Zeisel Originals.