Day 201 - Petits objets

December 31, 2019

I came to the museum today for the first time in well over a month, not having wanted to venture out to a crowded place after my two eye surgeries.  Both on the crosstown bus and approaching the building, I felt a happy sense of anticipation, and despite my occluded left-eye vision and the fact that the dim lighting in these galleries makes seeing clearly all the more difficult,  I'm very glad to be back.

Upon arrival, I was frustrated to discover that my destination, gallery 541, was closed for the day because of insufficient staff. At first I was at a bit of a loss for what to do. I could, of course, see one of the special exhibitions, but I really wanted to continue with this project. Then I realized I could check the Notes section of my IPad to see where I had left off, and this brought me to gallery 545, a space through which I'd walked many times en route to other galleries and where I'd been arrested by the sight of many beautiful snuffboxes and other small objects. So I was delighted to return to the gallery for a closer look.

I realize that the ornateness that I find such a turnoff in 18th century French furniture is an utter delight when it comes to these small objects; I can understand their appeal to Jayne Wrightsman and absolutely anyone else. Snuffboxes were, I read, an object of conspicuous consumption; it must have given their wealthy owners great pleasure to take them out, look at them, and hold them in their hands - all the while showing off their own affluence and taste. And since I assume that snuff, a form of tobacco, was at least mildly addictive, they must have taken out their snuffboxes quite often.

It's hard to select among them, but I find three objects on display especially beautiful. The first is a fold-up reading  glass, about 3 1/2 inches long, made in France of gold, glass, and enamel in about 1780. I'm struck by the perfection of its proportions, the delicacy of the inlay work in the two flowers surrounded by spiraling leaves (which I took to be mother-of-pearl but are instead glass), and the fresh color of the green enamel- like a breath of spring air. It's nice to imagine a lady reading a novel or a billet-doux using this glass.

The second object is a gold-and-diamond rectangular snuffbox, about 3 inches long, 2 inches wide, and an inch high, made in Paris in 1734-1735. As you move your head, the diamonds refract the light, so the object twinkles with tiny gleaming dots of red, blue, green, and white.  If you held the snuffbox, you could move it back and forth and look at it forever. I've never particularly liked diamonds, but this object makes it clear why I might.

The last item is an oval snuffbox,  perhaps 3 1/2 inches long and 1 1/2 inches high, made of gold and enamel in 1756-1757, also in Paris. The white and pink flowers stand out against the chased gold background. It's simply lovely - I can't think of a better description.  Or maybe it's lovely in part because it's so luxuriously simple.

It's interesting to note that the makers of these two snuffboxes were known and their wares presumably highly sought-after.

I have seen so many pieces of 18h century furniture that I would never want,  but I would love to own any of these objects.