' Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.'
Sunday, 6 November 2011
The Teapot that Came Home
Here's my latest Ebay acquisition which has caused me much excitement. I narrowly missed the opportunity to acquire an identical one from a charity stall at the school fair back in July and was even willing to pay the fifteen pounds asking price. But whilst I dithered over buying it someone pipped me to the post. So I set up a saved search on the auction site and was notified by email every time a teapot by the now defunct maker 'Devonmoor' was listed. Four months on, my desired match became available and it's now mine, all mine for the bargain price of just over seven pounds including postage!
The reason why I wanted this little Art Deco inspired piece, besides the fact that I find it quite aesthetically pleasing, is that it was made in my own village. What's more, even though the pottery ceased production in the early 1980s the building it was housed in remains standing. The workship has been converted into homes and this bottle shaped kiln has been preserved as a pleasing feature in the development. Although my teapot is plain, lots of the items produced here were the familiar blue and white seaside souvenirs with resort names embossed into them that were so popular in the post war period. And horror of horrors Devonmoor also produced Toby jugs, some of the most grotesque examples of the ceramicist's art known to mankind. They'd never grace Lovelygrey villas however local their provenance may be!
Those who know me will ascertain that the term 'accident prone' might have been coined for me personally. But fear not these pieces of blue pottery are not the remains of my teapot after I'd dropped it in the garden just after it was delivered. Thankfully, it remains intact, at least for the time-being. No, coincidentally, on my morning walk yesterday, I tied another string to my bow and became an industrial archaelogist. For on the footpath across the fields that runs behind the old village I looked down and discovered that there were loads of these shards scattered about which bear testament to the working life of the village in the 'olden days'.