I started a ceramics class last week. Since I’m the only designer in my department at work that didn’t go to art school, I’m even more aware of the making-things-by-hand skills I missed out on while I was studying constitutional law and torts, and when a coworker asked if I’d be interested in taking a ceramics class, I said something like hell yes. It seems like the wheel class is more popular than hand-building, either because of Demi Moore or because people are drawn to perfect symmetry, but we signed up for the hand building class for now. I have started a plate and a small pot. It’s pretty great.

For ideas about color and glaze, I started looking my apartment and noticed this lovely tray that belonged to my grandmother:

My grandparents were very active Democrats and had a massive collection of political memorabilia, a small part of which includes a set of Frankoma donkey mugs from each year they were manufactured until the late 1990′s.

While not particularly valuable in monetary terms (the donkeys sell for around $10 – $30 each), I love these mugs for their sentimental meaning, and I think they’re a perfect collectible for someone who likes old things, likes politics (yes, they come in elephants too), and doesn’t have a lot of money to spend. Frankoma is one of those less-common pottery companies that has nothing to do with Ohio, but instead was born in – you guessed it – Oklahoma. John Frank, a ceramic arts professor at the University of Oklahoma, started the company with colleagues from the University in 1933 and soon named it Frankoma Pottery – “Frank” and “Oklahoma” combined. Their goal was to create beautiful everyday dinnerware that would be affordable even for families during the Great Depression. And they are beautiful – their Southwest-inspired glazes look surprisingly modern.

This plate is made from Sapulpa clay, which was used by Frankoma after 1955. All Frankoma pieces made before 1955 were made from Ada clay – clay that was dug from trenches in Ada, Oklahoma. After twenty-some years of being mined, Ada clay became more difficult to get in quality and quantity, and had to be transported 150 miles from Ada to Sapulpa, where the Frankoma factory was by then located. Thus, after 1955, Frankoma was made from local Sapulpa clay, which turned out to work beautifully with their glazes. To determine whether a piece is Ada or Sapulpa clay, look at the unglazed parts – Ada clay is more of a golden tan, and will not change color when lightly dampened, while Sapulpa clay is reddish and will darken if you wet the end of your finger and touch the unglazed clay (although this one doesn’t really change color). Early marks – until about 1934 – use Frank’s initials or his last name (“Frank Pottery” or “Frank Potteries”), and a particularly rare mark from 1938 doesn’t use the Frank name at all, but rather “FIRST KILN SAPULPA”. Early Frankoma marks after 1934 that use the entire name are in some way impressed into the clay, while marks later than the mid-1960s were part of the molds and are raised on the piece like you see with the above plate.

The political mugs started with a white elephant in 1968 for the National Republican Women’s Club, and were so popular that they continued the new tradition the next year with the 1969 Nixon/Agnew mug in Flame orange-red. These two early mugs are slightly more valuable than the rest of the set (with the exception of a specially made 1974 mug marked “Nixon Agnew” which is particularly rare and can run you a few hundred dollars), but none will run you more than $30 – $50. The mugs were made yearly – the Democrats got their own donkey mug starting in 1975 – and were marked with the year as well as, in inaugural years, the names of the newly elected president and vice president on the appropriate party’s mug.

Though the company has changed hands a few times since Frank died in 1973, but they continue to produce their political mugs, including 2008′s Obama Biden mug (which is sort of garish and flecked with blue on white, so I’m not posting a photo here. Keep our weblogs clean, you know?).

So, I was on vacation last week. The man and I went to Palm Springs, which, if I had remembered to take any pictures, is pretty much exactly the right visual substance for my weblog. We stayed at one of those adorable garden hotels with the bungalows arranged around a lovely saltwater pool, and it was great. I forgot to take pictures.

Anyway, I got some pretty wonderful things at Long Beach last weekend. Among them were these two mixing bowls:

These bowls are well-worn but still lovely.

These are vintage Fiesta mixing bowls, sizes 5 and 6.

The ivory bowl's glaze is too thick to read its size, but it fits snugly inside this size 6.

Before I get too into these bowls in particular, here’s a super quick introduction to Fiestaware. The Homer Laughlin company introduced the bright, art deco Fiesta line in 1936, after much careful thought and planning of everything from the overall shape (thank you Fredrick Rhead) to the first set of colors (red was a must, and the others followed to complete and complement it) to the glaze (not too dull to make cleaning difficult and imperfections obvious, but not too shiny – just a pleasant, soft sheen). I collect Fiesta ware (in spite of the fact that a lot of other people do) because my grandmother did, and so does my mother, but because a lot of people collect it, prices at antique malls and flea markets can be inflated simply because it’s marked Fiesta. So it always helps to know whether a piece you’re looking at is rare and whether it’s actually vintage: Homer Laughlin reintroduced Fiesta in 1986, and many of the original shapes and some approximations of the original colors were and are being made. Look at color, shape, and what’s on the underside – pin marks, backstamps, and indented marks will help you age a piece. The first line introduced in 1936 included (cobalt) blue, yellow, (old) ivory, (light) green, and the aforementioned (orange) red. Turquoise followed in 1937.

My everyday Fiesta collection.

The vintage Fiesta red has a bright orange cast to it, as opposed to the newer Scarlet color, which is closer to a true red. In 1943 the government decided it needed to use the uranium that was used in making the red glaze, so Fiesta sent its red color to war, and from 1943 to 1959, no red was made. In 1951 new colors were added: rose, gray, chartreuse, and forest green – very modern indeed. Medium green was introduced in 1959, a mere 10 years before all of the above was discontinued – hence its scarcity and high price tags. The only medium green pieces I have are saucers; one is Fiesta and one is Harlequin (a less-expensive Homer Laughlin line sold through Woolworth’s that shared many of the same colors).

So now you know what colors are vintage, but there’s a slight problem – some colors, like turquoise, cobalt blue, ivory, and yellow – were reproduced after 1986 and can look very similar to the vintage colors even side by side:

The saucer in front is from my mother’s collection and was made in the early 90′s, while the one in back is from my grandmother’s collection, probably from the early 40′s. The vintage turquoise is slightly more bluish, while the new turquoise is a little on the greener side, but very, very slightly. In these situations, shape, weight, and most importantly, the marks on the bottom, tell us which is which.

When a Fiesta piece is marked with an ink backstamp, it will either say “FIESTA” in all capital letters, as shown on the right, or “fiesta” in all lowercase letters, as on the left. Aside from simply looking like a newer stamp, the capital letters and the words “LEAD-FREE” always indicate it was made after the reissue in 1986. Always. The lower case, as on the saucer on the left, indicate vintage Fiesta. The mark may differ from the one shown, but the letters will always be in lower case. Note that this is only true for ink backstamps, and not for indented marks.

A piece may very well not be marked – many vintage plates weren’t marked, and some items such as salt and pepper shakers were never meant to be marked and are rare when they are found with one. As you can see in the above photo, vintage Fiesta plates bear three tiny marks from where they were held up during firing. New Fiesta will have an unglazed foot like you see above – the old method of firing held up by pins simply isn’t done anymore (but some vintage pieces, like mugs, will as well. I know. Confusing.). You’re also more likely to see imperfections in the glazes of vintage Fiesta – the newer methods provide a consistent, even glaze. Holding these saucers in different hands, the new one feels weightier, has a slightly less refined shape and feel, and just looks newer. So is that it? No, of course not! There are also indented marks, which you’ll find on contemporary cereal bowls and disk pitchers as well as vintage ones. Color, size, glazed feet (see the saucers above), and overall feel will be your guide here. It helps to know your colors. I once bought a post 86 creamer at a flea market knowing it was post 86 because it was apricot, a newer color only, and because the handle was a D-shape instead of an O-shape – and I knew not to pay too much for it even though the dealer told me she thought it was from the 60′s. I don’t think she was trying to cheat me, she just didn’t know. The bottom line is that you buy what you like, whatever colors and shapes appeal to you, and knowing just a little about what you’re looking at can help you make informed decisions on how much a piece is worth to you.

And a note about worth: the values you see in books or price lists indicate value for mint condition pieces. Wear marks, cracks, chips – these diminish value significantly and make a rare piece a candidate for everyday use. Speaking of wear, let’s get back to my mixing bowls. The nested mixing bowl sets, in sizes #1 (5″ diameter) to #7 (11.5″ diameter), were made between 1936 until about 1943, in each of the original six colors. The largest and smallest size are the most rare, with the largest taking that top honor. Mixing bowls are being made today, but they are much more limited in size, and they have a little foot or base that the older bowls do not have. The oldest mixing bowls, made before 1939, have an additional set of rings on the inside bottom of the bowl:

The rings are also present in the ivory bowl.

For an idea of what vintage Fiesta in mint condition is worth, I highly recommend Happy Heidi’s guide and pieces for sale. The bowls she has for sale put the number 5′s around $200 and the number 6′s around $300. As you can see, my bowls are nowhere near mint, so I feel pretty pleased about my $60 investment: not only do I get two great mixing bowls for a reasonable price, but I get to continue using something that’s been used for 75 years, whisking and stirring and making pies and cookies. I completely understand collectors’ desire to have pristine examples of this or that, but for me, the real value of something is the sum of the work that went into its creation plus the work it’s done before me, and I hope I can only add to it.

By far the most popular post on the blog that I recently lost was the one about Georges Briard, the nom de design of a brilliant mid-century housewares designer. Briard designs were so numerous and were produced for so many years that it’s difficult to get through an entire flea market without seeing something he designed, which makes them great entry-level collectibles. The “he” here refers to Jascha Brojdo, a man of means and impeccable taste. After coming to the United States in 1937, he studied at the Art Institute of Chicago where he earned his MFA, had a brief acting stint as a Polish prince, and served in World War II as a Russian interpreter. In 1947, he was discharged from the Army and started working in New York with Max Wille, whom he had met in art school. Brojdo began painting metal serving trays for sale, and evidently Wille came up with the name Georges Briard to mark commercial pieces – Brodjo was also a painter and would use his real name on his art pieces, but Georges Briard became his signature as a designer of these commercial articles, which were wildly popular and numerous. In fact, Georges Briard designs graced everything from bent glass dishes to toleware trays to towels to … basically any houseware used in kitchen, dining, or bar (and beyond). He could take inexpensive and common items and assign to them a lovely and innovative design and create something entirely new, and his name was – deservedly so – one of the most sought-after additions to a housewife’s cabinet. There are more companies he designed for and patterns than I could go over here, but I’ll outline a few. One of the designs you’ll see often is the Ambrosia pattern (below), typically on white enamelware:

These are pretty common, and run about $15-$35.

As far as I know, almost all Georges Briard pieces are signed. Early signatures include an M and W for Max Wille. Briard designs are loosely gridded, integrating organic shapes with geometric patterns. They have a wonderful sense of proportion and balance, like in this common Coq D’or pattern tray I found at PCC several years ago:

I think I paid around $15 for this tray several years ago.

Some wonderful things on etsy right now:

Hyalyn pieces like this, identified by a solid porcelain or bisque with gold façade, are a bit more rare and thus valuable than the more common glass or mosaic pieces.

Forbidden Fruit (below) is another common pattern, often produced on bent glass plates like this one:

$8 on etsy.

Which brings me to one of my favorite pieces:

Georges Briard bent glass tray in blue

I found this at the Long Beach flea market a few years ago for about $25. The pattern here is Seascape, and is frequently found on handmade bent glass plates like this one. Glass Guild started selling these lovely plates in about 1957, and they are typically found in opal or clear glass, which is why this blue business caught my eye. In Leslie Piña’s book Designed & Signed, she includes an example of a bent glass plate in “robin’s egg blue” like mine but a quarter of the size, with the notation “made by Glass Guild as a sample and most likely one-of-a-kind.” I haven’t been able to find any other corroborating information about this, and I’ve never seen anything else in this light blue glass. Was this really a sample and not commercially produced, as she suggests? I’m really curious to know if any other blue glass pieces like this exist out there.

Generally, Georges Briard collectibles remain in the realm of very affordable midcentury accessories. They were meant as beautiful but utilitarian objects, so go ahead and use and enjoy them.