Good E-Nef. . . .

A nef is an ornate table decoration in the shape of a ship. Often made of precious metal and adorned with gems or enamel, a nef was not just a fancy centerpiece, but also could hold condiments, utensils, or napkins. Sometimes the nef was on wheels, so it could be rolled to the next person who needed a little salt or a clean spoon, but often the ship was stationary, supported by some denizen of the sea, including, of course, a curvaceous mermaid. Originally dating back to the 13th century, the nef saw a new rise in popularity with the invention of electroplating base metals with silver in the 1840s, coinciding with the Victorian love of elaborate ornaments.

This leads to my newest mermaid mystery, a 21-inch tall lamp featuring a silver-plated siren rising from roiling waves as she supports a sailing vessel (being very considerate mythical maiden, she carries a life preserver, just in case any sailors fall overboard). This lamp meets all my collecting criteria for weird and wonderful.

When switched on, a soft light shines through the seashells wired onto a metal grid that serves as the ship's deck.

Although the silver plating is worn in areas, the sculpting is superb, from the swirling waters and spiraling scaled tail to her ample supple curves.

However, I do not think this lovely lady started out as a lamp. Looking underneath, it is clear that someone drilled a hole and rigged the wiring.

In fact the lamp seems to have been creatively, if not always carefully, jimmy-rigged. The upper portion of the boat lifts off, but is now screwed into place; however, for some reason, the heads of the screws were sunk into the upper deck, leaving the unsightly ends sticking out from the boat's bottom. It was a simple matter to reverse the screws, so that the heads were now flush with the hull and the ends tucked in under the shells. The shells are thin and frail, so I did not want to poke around to much, but it looks like the light itself is a short string of tiny white fairy lights, which indicates that the lighting is much newer than the base (and I sure hope that they are LEDs, because replacing them would be a nightmare). 

There are no marks, other than a small diamond-shaped paper label that reads, "M. Vernis 13." I could find no company or business by that name, and I suspect that it may refer to an address.

So, back to our word of the day, "nef." My theory is that this lamp started life as a Victorian revival of a nef, and that originally the ship offered guests sweetmeats or salt, which would explain why the upper deck once lifted off for filling and cleaning. But I am open to any other suggestions as well.

 

Go Fish!

Anne Harriet Fish (1890-1964), although born in Britain became a renown artist, illustrator, and cartoonist on both sides of the "pond." Her work appeared in Condé Nast's Vanity Fair, Vogue, and Tatler. Fish also created designs for Fulper Pottery of Flemington, New Jersey, and Hubley Manufacturing Company, which made cast iron toys and novelties, such as doorstops.  This lamp base is an Anne Fish design for Fulper.  It features two very stylized flapper bathing belles sitting back to back.  These colorful cuties are 6.25 inches high.

The egg-shaped heads, heart-shaped lips, and large half-circle eyes with long lower lashes are typical of Fish's frolicsome females.

Her signature appears by the hole that would have held the lamp stem.  She signed her drawings and illustrations with only her last name.

The oval ink mark dates this piece between 1917 to 1934.

Fish's illustrations for Vanity Fair, first published in 1913, captured the essence of the new woman, youthful, slender, and always ready for a little flirtation or fun. Over a roughly 15-year period, Fish created some 30 covers for the magazine, as well as many inside illustrations.  Two covers in particular portray similar dual bathing belles. This one dates from February 1916.

Fish returned to the theme with this June 1923 cover. Condé Nast has an online store where you can view a collection of Fish covers, as well as order a print of your favorite.

This pair of bathers perching on a perfume bottle appeared earlier on this blog.  The bottle is stamped underneath “Bavaria” and is incised “X.F. 269,” “Dep,” and with the William Goebel crown mark.  It is clear that this Goebel piece was inspired by the work of this popular illustrator of the period.

Midnight at the Oasis. . . .

Send your camel to bed

Shadows painting our faces

Traces of romance in our heads

Heaven's holding a half-moon

Shining just for us

Let's slip off to a sand dune, real soon

And kick up a little dust

1973, written by David Nichtern, sung by Maria Muldaur

Completing the theme of erotic bronzes from fin de siècle Austria is this Middle Eastern maiden posing provocatively under a palm tree.  The palm fronds conceal a lightbulb and this lovely lamp is part of a series featuring various Arabic-inspired scenes under a sheltering palm.  Of cold painted bronze, it is unmarked, but is no doubt from one of the many Austrian foundries that produced finely sculpted and cast bronzes in the late 1800s through the 1930s.  A significant number of these bronzes engaged in Orientalism, with fanciful depictions of a mysterious, seductive, and decadent Middle East.  The lamp is 11 inches tall.

A close up of the barely-robed water bearer.  The cold painted patina is susceptible to wear, especially at any protruding edges, revealing glimpses of the gleaming bronze underneath