FAHRENHEIT 2300 by Crocker Farm

Grand in its size and decoration, a unique Poughkeepsie, NY stoneware jug will be offered without reserve in our March 5 auction of antique American stoneware and redware. Measuring 21 1/2″ tall, the jug was thrown on the potter’s wheel in two sections to accomodate its monumental size. A seam line near the shoulder reveals that the majority of the jug was thrown as a cylinder, and the remainder of the jug (including its rounded shoulder and squared spout) were affixed and sealed to the vessel. While the height of the jug is extremely rare, its slender form is perhaps equally unusual. The jug’s width is comparable to that of a two-gallon example, but with a height twice that.

The incredible size of the piece suggests it was made to catch one’s attention, and the decoration supports this notion. Extending upward and covering 18″ or so of the jug’s vertical surface is a large slip-trailed cobalt tree with graduated limbs. This tree was lightly incised into the surface of the jug prior to being applied in cobalt slip, a technique which allowed the decorator to map out his design. (Interestingly, the Fenton & Hancock stoneware cooler with decoration of a Civil War general and his wife, which set a record in our November 2006 auction, features similar incising under the decoration.)

Perched near the peak of the tree are four fan-tailed birds with crests, and flanking the tree’s heavily-shaded trunk are a seated dog and a reclining doe with cobalt-spot-decorated bodies. The doe sports an unusually long tail, perhaps more fitting of a dog. Realistic sizing plays no role in the decoration, as the birds appear too large for the tree, and the dog towers over the deer. Other New York State and New England decorators were known to disregard the actual scale of design elements. For example, Norton stoneware from Bennington, Vermont is famous for such folksy discrepancies, featuring fanciful designs, such as an oversized flower basket beside a small deer or a large deer beside a much smaller tree.

The animal scene on the Poughkeepsie jug captures four distinctive designs the pottery was known for: the fan-tailed bird, the dog, the deer, and a tree with graduated limbs. It is these distinctive designs, most notably the bird and the tree, that lead to a strong attribution to the pottery of Philip Riedinger and Adam Caire of Poughkeepsie, NY. A great deal of information is provided on this potting firm in William C. Ketchum’s seminal book, Potters and Potteries of New York State, 1650-1900. According to Ketchum’s research, the partnership of potters, Adam Caire and Philip Riedinger, began in 1857 at a long-standing pottery on Poughkeepsie’s Main Street. Prior to that time, Riedinger had been operating at the same location with another partner, Louis Lehman. Caire, the son of potter, John B. Caire, having finished his six-year apprenticeship in Hartford and Amboy, purchased Lehman’s interest in the operation. Thus, the partnership of Riedinger & Caire was born, a formidable business that would survive until Riedinger’s death in 1878. The operation was known as the Poughkeepsie Pottery, and during its later years, employed sixteen potters, including a prolific artisan named Samuel Brady (Ketchum, p. 118). Brady would operate a pottery in Ellenville, NY with partner, John J. Ryan, between 1881 and about 1897 (Ketchum, p. 143, 466). Numerous examples of Brady & Ryan stoneware from Ellenville show strong Poughkeepsie Pottery influences. Similarities are particularly evident in the partnership’s bird designs.

The eye-catching appeal of the jug suggests it may have sat in the storefront of the Poughkeepsie Pottery to advertise the company’s wares. Oral history of many other large-sized decorative pieces, including one or more coolers produced by J. & E. Norton of Bennington, a Decker jar from Tennessee, and an oversized Perine pitcher from Baltimore, indicate they sat in prominent locations to promote the potteries that made them. Quietly hidden away until recently in a New York State home, this great jug is sure to turn heads once again, just as it surely did over 125 years ago.

Jon Kay, the director of Traditional Arts Indiana, recently launched a great new podcast called Artisan Ancestors. Jon describes it as a “podcast where I explore ways to research and understand the past,” and he does just that, talking to professors, researchers, authors, and scholars about American decorative arts. A couple of weeks ago, Jon interviewed me about Crocker Farm, our stoneware-related research, and the Commeraw project. If you’re at all interested in any of those topics, and you can put up with listening to me talk for twenty minutes or so, you might want to give it a listen. I think you may find it interesting.

(For those completely new to this sort of thing, a podcast is essentially an internet radio broadcast; it just takes a click of the mouse to listen.)

Click here to check it out.

(Once there, simply click the play button or the “Play in new window” link on the left-hand side of the page to start listening.)

Today I posted the following on my website, www.commeraw.com, but I just wanted to share this with everyone here, as well:

I could not be happier to see Thomas Commeraw’s name, and true identity, in a New York newspaper for the first time in almost two hundred years. He and the Commeraw Project were both part of today’s issue of The New York Times, in Eve Kahn’s article on Americana Week. Click here to read it.

When I announced this project almost ten months ago, I could not have hoped for a better response. Many of you have been kind enough to share photographs of Commeraw’s work, and have even welcomed me into your homes to see and photograph your pottery. Without this generosity, I would not have the understanding of Commeraw’s career that I do now.

I am dedicated to finishing the book as soon as possible, and have a tentative completion date of Spring 2011 for my first draft. It covers a broad and (I hope) fascinating range from Commeraw himself to his fellow Manhattan potters to the black community at large to New York itself and, finally, to Commeraw’s amazing fate.

The vast majority of my time over the last several years, in working on this project, has been spent in research–in both primary documentary sources and modern scholarship. If I do the material justice, and I truly hope (and believe) that I am, this book will be a major contribution not only to the field of American ceramics but, I believe, American history in general. This has been a labor of love for me and I hope, before all is said and done, to see Thomas Commeraw restored as an important American historical figure.

Thank you for visiting and please feel free to drop me a line. I am still seeking photos of any examples of Thomas Commeraw’s stoneware, so please do not hesitate to contact me if you would like to participate.

I wanted to briefly update those interested in my Thomas Commeraw project on its status and what has happened since I first announced it back on March 31. First, although I have already done so privately, I want to publicly thank those of you who have been so helpful in providing photographs of Commeraw’s work (and David Morgan’s pieces) for use in my book. I am very grateful for your willingness to participate in what I think is an important endeavor for the study of not just American stoneware but American decorative arts in general. I understand that it is no small favor that you have done me in trusting me with handling images of your pieces. Secondly, I want to thank everyone for their encouragement as I come down the home stretch of my writing and putting the book together. Whether providing me with pictures or simply offering kind words of support, the response I have received since announcing this undertaking has meant a lot to me.

As for the status of this project, I have dedicated a significant amount of time over the past few months to writing, and I am pleased with the progress I have made. I expect and hope to have a rough draft finished quite soon, and am very dedicated to making that happen. Since Commeraw’s surviving work is naturally an important part of the book, I just wanted to once again invite anyone in possession of either his pottery or other Corlears Hook stoneware to participate in this project. Anonymity and discretion are extremely important to me, and while when possible I would love to photograph your pieces myself, that is not necessary. In many cases I am able to use photos taken by you, and submitting them is as simple as emailing them to me. I have a fairly large, representative number of photographs of various pieces of Commeraw’s pottery right now, but I would love to expand it. Even pictures of common pieces are useful to me, but I am of course particularly seeking any unusual stoneware made in Corlears Hook―this includes the quite rare vessels stamped “COERLEARS HOOK” (note the alternate spelling) and often decorated with incised floral decorations, canning jars (and really any type of stoneware) made in the typical Commeraw style but stamped with merchant marks, and anything that would be considered different from the norm. Click here to see some photos of Commeraw’s stoneware; the canning jars and Ashmore’s Genuine Cordials jug are a couple of examples of the more unusual pieces I am seeking. As I said, even typical pieces are of value to me, but if you are curious if something you have falls into the category of rare or strange―or even if you have something that you think was made by Commeraw but aren’t sure―please do not hesitate to contact me.

Thank you all again for your much appreciated support and I will continue to keep everyone updated as the summer wears on. If you ever want to contact me about photos or anything else at all, the easiest way to do so is through the following web page: http://www.commeraw.com/contact.

The stoneware of Thomas Commeraw, made in Corlears Hook, on the East River in New York City, has been valued by historians and collectors for about as long as any stoneware made in the United States. The work of the early Manhattan potters was some of the first to be recognized as important American material culture, way back around the turn of the twentieth century. At that time, authors and students had it pretty easy–a lot of the potters we now write about and spend a great deal of time trying to research were actually alive back then. But the work of the Croliuses, the Remmeys, Thomas Commeraw, and David Morgan in New York all caught the eye of people interested in decorative arts, early on. A lot has been written about their work, and about the men themselves. One of my favorite books on American stoneware, William Ketchum’s Potters and Potteries of New York State, 1650-1900, has been the definitive work on the Manhattan potters, and the entirety of what we have known about Thomas Commeraw, in particular, is encompassed in that work. Not at all a criticism of Ketchum and his near-exhaustive work, but there was something he and the scores of other authors who have written about Commeraw missed.

Thomas Commeraw was not another potter of European descent working beside the Croliuses and Remmeys. He was a free African American. I discovered this fact some time ago by chance and at the time I was so shocked by this revelation that I wondered if there were two different Thomas Commeraws running around Manhattan during the time period. But there were not, and since then I have spent a lot of time trying to flesh out the life of this man whom history forgot. I believe Commeraw’s story demands nothing less than a book on his life and work, and I will be finished writing this book soon. I have launched a website, www.commeraw.com, to keep those interested in my project updated on its progress, and to enable people to easily contact me. At this time, I am asking for your help. I have many photographs of Commeraw’s work, but I am trying to amass as large of a photographic record of his pottery as possible. I am also looking for pieces by David Morgan, his fellow potter in Corlears Hook, and the fairly well-known pieces stamped “COERLEARS HOOK” and incised with elaborate floral decorations. In many cases I can travel to you, and in some cases I will ask for you to mail or email me photos. If you attend our regular auctions in York, Pennsylvania, or would like to in the future, I can have your pieces photographed conveniently there, as well. I of course promise complete discretion and anonymity. If you are interested in helping me by providing photographs, please feel free to contact me: http://www.commeraw.com/contact.

I invite you to visit my website, www.commeraw.com, and thank you in advance for your interest and for helping me restore Commeraw’s deserved place in American history.

The pottery form known as a gemel, also gemel jug or gemel bottle, is one of the rarest forms in American stoneware. The word is derived from the Latin word “geminus,” meaning twin, double, paired, or half-and-half. The plural of this same word, “gemini,” is used to refer to the constellation composed of  twin brothers, Castor and Pollux, of Greek mythology. The words “twin” or “double” definitely come to mind when one thinks of a pottery gemel, which is composed of two wheel-thrown jugs, joined together with clay between the two. A single handle is applied to carry and pour the paired jugs, though the positioning of this handle can vary from potter to potter. Variations of the form were also produced by American glass makers. Occasionally, the form is taken one step further, involving four connected jugs. Such pieces are referred to as “double gemels.”

The purpose of a gemel was to hold two liquids that were frequently used together in individual chambers. The form obviously made using such liquids more convenient than carrying two separate jugs. It is believed that many gemels were designed to hold oil and vinegar, which were commonly used in foods together, but needed to be kept separate. In other instances, a gemel may have held two different types of liquor.

While many gemels exist bearing little or no decoration, some are known with wonderful brushed or incised designs, indicating they were likely made as specially-ordered or presentation items. Most signed or attributed stoneware examples were produced in New Haven, CT, by Absolom Stedman, or during Stedman’s partnership with one of the Seymours, around the year 1831 (Ketchum, American Stoneware, p. 58). Several are known bearing maker’s marks from this pottery, including some with distinctive incised bird designs accented with impressed circles.

Redware examples are also known from elsewhere in the country, including a few produced in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, which are pictured in H.E. Comstock’s The Pottery of the Shenandoah Valley Region. A small example by the highly-regarded potter, Anthony Bacher, who worked in Adams County, PA, Winchester, VA, and Thurmont, MD, circa 1850 to 1885, is glazed in cream and brown and features a horizontal handle. A gemel by Winchester and Strasburg, VA potter, Solomon Bell, consists of two molded male figures holding mugs. Clay hats serve as the containers’ lids. Gemels were no doubt produced in nearly every region of 19th century American utilitarian pottery production, though few have survived.

We have been consigned an exceptional stoneware example for our October 31 auction, which was given as a gift to an early Hanover, PA antiques dealer in the first half of the 20th century, and has never been offered for public sale. Measuring 6 1/4″ tall, the double jug is decorated with two incised birds filled with bright cobalt slip. Both birds are embellished with incised crests and ringed necks, and their wings are outlined in unusual incised wavy lines. Each are perched on a scallop-edged leaf or stem, connecting at the center with a three-petaled flower resembling a bow. In this way, the connected design mimics the conjoined structure of the jugs.

The cobalt-highlighted letters M and B are impressed below the spout. According to the consignor, this piece originally descended in a New York State family by the name of Brewster. The two letters, therefore, may be the initials of its original owner, with the “B” referring to Brewster. However, it seems more likely that the letters refer to the contents of each jug. The best hypothesis on the meaning of these letters is that they refer to madeira and brandy. Madeira, a wine produced since the 16th century on the Portuguese island of Madeira, gained much popularity in 18th century America. It was favored by many of the founding fathers, including George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin, and was used to toast the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Madeira’s flavors and uses varied, largely depending upon the aging process and varieties of grapes used. Interestingly,  the wine’s long travels on ships exposed to the sun’s heat created a taste many found pleasing, and this accidental method of aging was later replicated on the island’s sun-drenched beaches. Brandy, whose name is derived from the Dutch word “brandewijn,” meaning “burnt wine,” was originally created from wine distilled in oak casks prior to shipment. The distillation was designed as a method of preservation and to reduce costs by concentrating the liquid; the product was diluted with water upon reaching its destination by ship. Consumers soon realized, however, that the undiluted wine had a robust and pleasing flavor, which was chemically altered by the distillation process,  and soon began drinking it without adding water. Most of us are aware of 18th and 19th century stoneware jugs and coolers bearing the impressed or incised inscription “BRANDY,” indicating its popularity in early America.

An interesting link can be found between madeira and brandy. Both have been frequently used together in cooking as a base for meat glazes, sauces, and marinades. I have also found a 19th century recipe for a cake made with both madeira and brandy. It is possible that this gemel saw more use as a kitchen accessory than as someone’s personal flask.

As far as its maker is concerned, the fat-bodied birds that adorn the front most closely resemble the work of the Crolius and Remmey family of Manhattan, NY. The  style of decoration on this example is so far unlike the bird designs of the potters of New Haven, CT, who produced most incised gemels known, that we can safely rule them out. Furthermore, the age does not strike me as early 1830′s, but much earlier, perhaps sometime around 1800. The motif of two facing birds may be an early predecessor to later paired bird designs used in Baltimore and Philadelphia by Henry Remmey, Henry Harrison Remmey, and Richard Remmey.

From the very beginning, we have always endeavored to add excitement to the collecting community and offer fresh-to-the-market examples of exceptional quality. 2009 has been a year that has fulfilled this hope of ours. This gemel follows in the wake of two other remarkable incised stoneware pieces we have offered this year, the first being an Albany, New York, cooler with fish and bird decoration, which set a stoneware specialty auction record at $103,500, and the second a Connecticut flask with bird and flowering urn decoration, which sold on July 11 for $40,250. Like these two other pieces, I believe this newly-surfaced gem will further support the claim that ceramics are the hottest commodity in American decorative arts today.

The question of a potter’s intent as he made a particular piece is a central one in the field of ceramic study. Even on the most straight-forward example, such as a plain, unadorned jar or jug, questions that can often never be answered conclusively rear their heads: What was it made for? Did it have one specific use, or many? What tools were used, and why? What level of standardization was expected within any given pottery during a specific time period? Was it made for a particular client? Who made it?

When decoration or other more elaborate attributes are added to the equation, the line of questioning extends itself that much more. What is the decoration supposed to represent? Was the decoration part of some kind of standardized design theme produced by the pottery? If so, was this an attempt at “branding” by the pottery owner, was it simply a mass production technique, or was it both? If the decoration is a variation on a theme by another pottery, was this done as a way to capitalize on someone else’s successful brand?

The large number of questions that can accumulate for even some of the seemingly simplest pots highlights the complexity in evaluating American stoneware and redware, and all art, for that matter. One important aspect of American stoneware production that factors into our evaluation of it is the business side of this decorative art form. The Thomas Commeraw jug we recently received for our July 11, 2009 auction is a good example of a piece that seems to have been made with commerce heavily in mind.

The Commeraw jug is one of the most finely made of any of his extant vessels. The contrast between the rich, dark cobalt blue against a very light gray colored body must have been at or very near the ideal appearance Commeraw sought as he fired it. The clay itself looks like it was specifically chosen or refined to be low in impurities and iron oxide, which contributes to the brown look of some stoneware. Each impressed letter and decorative element was applied deeply and with great care, to make them extraordinarily legible. The vessel itself is very well-thrown–a large, bulbous shape culminating in a pronounced, tooled spout. All of these attributes beg the question, why was this particular vessel so extraordinarily well-made?

Most other surviving Commeraw examples are a brown or tan color, though some achieve an attractive blue-on-gray that comes close to, but falls short of, that seen on this example. The crescent and tassel designs are often stamped in a more haphazard manner and can be harder to make out than in this case; the same goes for the maker’s stamps. In fact, the maker’s mark itself was very carefully applied to apparently communicate a specific message: “N. YORK” is impressed directly below the spout, giving a prominent place to declare the jug’s city of origin. Beneath that, encompassed by the striking, blue-highlighted decorative stamps, is the maker’s brand name, “COMMERAWS STONEWARE,” displayed with the confidence that the viewer will be impressed with the artist’s work. Finally, “CORLEARS / HOOK” lists the section of Manhattan on the East River where Commeraw potted.

Throughout his work, Commeraw made use of the many different combinations of words available within the repertoire of his maker’s stamps, which this jug displays in its entirety. “COMMERAWS” on one side of a vessel with “STONEWARE” on the other, simply “COMMERAWS / STONEWARE” or “CORLEARS / HOOK,” the name “COMMERAWS” alone–all sorts of variations of these marks were used by this prolific potter. Sometimes little import is apparent within the particular chosen combination, but in other cases the specific wording seems carefully selected. For instance, pieces stamped with “CORLEARS HOOK” but not “N. YORK” may have been made specifically for a local New York clientele.

Here, the prominent placement of “N. YORK” beneath the spout may indicate that the jug was made for customers far away from Manhattan. If so, Commeraw probably meant not only to communicate its city of origin, but to conjure into a potential customer’s mind the implications a New York hallmark carried with it.

New York stoneware seems to have been generally regarded as a standard-bearer of American stoneware production. The stoneware potteries of the Manhattan Crolius and Remmey families were some of the first firmly established in the United States, and carried a reputation not only as venerated, established companies but as part of the larger, extremely well-respected network of New York craftsmen. In 1812, when prominent Baltimore merchant William Myers hired New York stoneware potter Henry Remmey, Sr. to manage his Baltimore Stone Ware Manufactory, he bragged in local papers that he had “engaged Mr. Remmey, of New York, to superintend the Factory.” Subsequent ads by the Myers family over the next decade continued to stress Remmey’s New York heritage. The names of specific New York stoneware makers were probably known up and down the east coast, as well. For instance, in 1828, J.B. Cross, a Portland, Maine, merchant advertised “a large assortment of ‘Croliu’s’ [sic] New York painted, superior ware” in his local paper. In the same ad, which included many different consumer goods ranging from mustard to rat traps to toy soldiers, he boasted that he was “agent for several extensive New York manufactories.”

This claim is important in trying to ascertain the relationship between local pottery shops and distant merchant stores, and may help explain Commeraw’s intentions as he made this particularly fine example of his work. The jug was found in a barn in North Carolina, where it had apparently been kept hidden away for a long time. While pieces frequently migrated throughout the country over the past 200 years, items discovered in the manner this one was are often “native” antiques–objects resident in their current locale since around the time they were made. All of the notable attributes of this jug–the large size, exceptional craftsmanship, emphasis of its New York origin, and brilliantly emblazoned maker’s name–lead me to believe that it was made for a local Southern U.S. market to advertise the kind of high-quality, New York ware a particular merchant had to offer.

As I said at the beginning of this article, the question of what the potter had in mind as he produced a particular piece is usually one we can never completely answer. In the case of the Commeraw jug, any attempt to explain its specialness certainly falls into the category of conjecture. But I believe the circumstantial evidence is strong that this jug was made with the intent of advertising Commeraw’s New York-manufactured stoneware, to show a Southern market what he was capable of. In fact, in not just this case but also that of his entire body of work, Commeraw’s use of “CORLEARS HOOK” in his maker’s mark seems like an attempt at furthering his brand name and separating himself from the venerated Crolius and Remmey potteries located in lower Manhattan. Also, the backwards “N” in “N YORK,” not seen on other examples, may indicate that this jug was made earlier in the potter’s career than most other extant pieces, when he was still establishing himself as a pottery owner.

The relationship between stoneware potteries, local merchants, and distant merchant-agents is one that has not been explored as much as it could be. I believe the more we come to understand about this commercial side of stoneware production, the better we will be able to evaluate the surviving objects these artist-businessmen produced.