Just back from a little research trip into Rococo and Hepplewhite (late 18th Cen. English), applied arts as it applied to frames and furniture. George Hepplewhite was a contemporary of Chippendale. As Chippendale focused on a more “Oriental” flavor in his stew of furniture, Hepplewhite had a more “conventional” bent toward the Rococo as well as the lacey French look in the Louie XV furniture.
Both were still designs that are best enclosed in the term “English Rococo”, even though there was much deviation from the pure structures and forms. But the hallmark asymmetrical “C”s and “S”s, are still apparent in the top caps of their furniture and frames.
One of the interesting parts that was of interest to me, and would have bored my wife to tears, (and I won’t bore you with the four hours of discussion here), was the advanced use of English foliage in place of the more traditional forms and features. (Like I said; interesting to me)
But within the discussion of holly, ivy, berries, and oak leaves was another topic of restoration, cleaning, and care along with the decades of miss-care that have led to scouring, succumbing of details, patina in wrong places, and in some humble opinions “the creation of expensive fire starter”.
One of the most exquisite, but least understood steps in fine finishes of the applied arts was and is the final finish. First, it is the combination of two simple products (wax and dust), that is not “seen” or “noticed” by the general public; and yet when a frame lacks these two as they do more often than not these days in a world of “Paint it, and slap some hard coat of urethane on it so they can’t ruin it”; the textural conversation in the details is lacking most verbs and a fair portion of the verbs and adjectives.
Paint will never replace the look of dust that accumulates in nooks, crannies and bellybuttons. (See, that’s why you paint your fingernails, toenails, and face but not your . . .. ) Which is especially true for paint and finishes that are applied by machines as picture frame moulding goes whizzing through at 92mph; I don’t care how smart or talented the computer is that’s driving the machine; just not going to happen.
The process that has been the trade for hundreds of years, is warm soft-ish wax; applied and allowed to start to set up, then pumice stone in the form of a grey powder, or rotten stone (pumice powder colored by a clay of red, green or blue) or talc called “whiting” which are applied with sometimes large brushes, medium brushes, or small brushes, along with gauche for different colors. Once the mass of the stone is dusted over all of where it needs to be, it is carefully removed with rags, papers, brushes, and polishing bags that contain cotton linter. Each finisher has their favorites. Personally, I’m a big fan of “get it done, have fun with it, and make it look good.”
I have been known to spend many hours with a final wax finish, and I have had some finishers laugh at all the time I “wasted”, and others who chuckled knowingly and offered that they had been known to spend more than a day or two to get it to look “just right”.
So what has this all got to do with the price of tea in China….. it’s “no matter how long it took to painstakingly achieve that special look, whether it was the master Hepplewhite himself, or myself spending half a day or even John Peeler taking two weeks to get the look just right on his reproduction of a Jacobin Rawlins lower Norman Rococo finish”: It only takes one housewife, a torn up pair of her husband’s old Tighty-Whiteys and a can of Pledge, twelve and a half seconds to undo all of that work.
There was a reason Turkey feather dusters have been used for hundreds of years.
