Why We Love Delft

Every 10 years in the shelter magazine world there seems to be an unabashed groundswell of enthusiasm over blue-and-white china and Delft tile. As if it is a radical new discovery, the design media prattle on about export porcelain’s cheery shot of freshness, and Delft’s clean, classic appeal. Editors wax poetic about its undiscovered elegance. Stylists plop armfuls of peonies in blue-and-white jardinières and transplant crisp sheered boxwoods into export pottery. Architects add dashes of Delft to their modern back splashes and designers heap kilos of blue and white vases onto their groaning consoles as if these assemblages of garniture are the radical left wing of decorating.What is so surprising is that blue-and-white’s effective contribution to decorative bedazzlement is such a surprise!

Each spring, blue-and-white jars filled with yellow daffodils herald the incoming season, as displayed in every florist’s window. Delft’s pretty scenes of ships, windmills and even golfers strut their stuff on the facings of countless fireplaces, and dining tables are spread with export chargers, soup tureens and butter plates, proving an elegant foil for silver flatware. Whether one’s dining table is mahogany, pine, concrete or glass, it seems that blue-and-white Delftware is seen harmonizing within minimalist dwellings or populating maximalist vignettes.

Since blue-and-white pottery has been popular for more than 700 years—and doesn’t seem to be waning—I suppose that we can deem it, “a classic.” Prior to the mid-14th century, white glazed pottery was extant in China and Japan. Glazes were obviously designed to make clay pottery impermeable to liquids. The firing of vitreous porcelains emerged and opened the door to decorative patterns. Persian merchants of the mid-14th century started trading with the Orient, introducing imported dyes (via the Silk Road ) and, in particular, compounds such as cobalt. These compounds were seized upon by the Chinese and Japanese artisans. Though several million Muslims moved to China (under the Mongols) creating a strong merchant class, they were unable to ferret out the Chinese secret for making porcelain. So the Chinese porcelains were exported to Europe by the boatload, or in this case, the camel load. The blue-and-white export China became so popular and ubiquitous that it was used as ballast in the lower hulls of ships crossing the Atlantic.

Last week, while finishing an installation of an 1820s Beacon Hill townhouse, my client began unpacking her enormous collection of blue-and-white china. As she did so, she recounted this story: Her husband’s family actually had come over on the Mayflower and have resided in Boston since that time. As I was to find out, the history of this enormous collection of export China is not that uncommon with older Bostonian families. When the ships arrived in the harbor during the late 18th century and early 19th century, her husband’s ancestors would trundle themselves down to the docks and purchase entire sets of beautiful blue-and-white dinnerware for pennies. Ah … that we could do that today!

The massive onslaught of porcelain during the 15th century literally fired up the kilns and the competitive nature of the Dutch, who, during their golden age, started producing blue-and-white pottery along with blue-and-white glazed tile, famously produced in Delft. The earliest tin-glazed tile and pottery was made in Antwerp, Belgium, by Italian migrants. But once conquered by the zealous Spaniards, these artisans and craftsmen fled to the Netherlands, where they set up factories in Gouda, Rotterdam, Haarlem and Dordecht, with the most skilled craftsmen residing and working in Delft.

Since only the richest noblemen could afford the Chinese and Japanese import porcelain, a more affordable Dutch Delftware pottery and tile industry exploded in popularity. Decorated fireplaces, whose dark and soot besmirched brick interiors were covered in Delft tiles, became symbols of an upwardly mobile middle-class. Delft tiles were also used to clad kitchen walls, bathroom walls, tabletops, floors and the large stoves that heated their stone interiors.

During the 17th and 18th centuries, more than 800 million tiles were fabricated and sold. Large quantities were exported to Germany, Russia, Scandinavia, France, England and throughout the Ottoman Empire. To view the finest examples, one should tour the majestic Dutch National Museum, the Rijksmuseum. Additional collections can be found at the Rembrandt Museum, and of course in the city of Delft.

Actual Delft tiles can be purchased here in New York through Country Floors, renowned for their variety. Mottahedeh still reproduces fine collections of the export porcelain. And to be certain, blue-and-white export porcelain can be found at many of our finer antique purveyors here on the East End.

The popularity of blue-and-white china has certainly never disappeared since its inception. As far as I can see, since it remains 700 years strong, I doubt that it will ever lose its popularity.