THE CAPE COAST CASTLE PLATTER
He takes a package from the bench, unwraps it and holds up a large ceramic platter. ‘What do you think of this?’ he asks. The colour strikes me first: a vibrant saturated blue; then the wide border of shells and foliage and suddenly I’m looking into another world [opening spread & Fig 1]. There’s a sailing ship flying American pennants; across the water, there’s a large white building with a Union Jack on a flagpole beside it. My gaze arrives at the sinuous lettering of the title: ‘Cape Coast Castle on the Gold Coast Africa’. That’s when I recognise the world I’m looking into: Cape Coast Castle was the principal British centre for the transatlantic slave trade for nearly 150 years. A small boat in the foreground appears to be ferrying six dark figures towards the sailing ship. Are they enslaved Africans?
I’m in the studio of long-time friend and collaborator, artist Paul Scott. Paul is fluent in the visual language of transfer-printed domestic tablewares, like the Willow pattern and Spode’s Italian – the kind of blueand-white china that you see in so many Welsh parlours. He manipulates their imagery in order to address socio-political issues. Now he has his eye on the ‘Cape Coast Castle’ platter.
Made by the Staffordshire firm of Enoch Wood & Sons, the platter is a striking example of a genre of transfer-printed ceramics that were produced in the first half of the nineteenth century exclusively for the American market. Between 1820 and 1840, they were exported in the tens of thousands. They are illustrated with scenes that celebrate the emergent republic: leading personages in the struggle for independence, new municipal buildings. Hence they are known as American transferprinted earthenwares, or American transferwares.
The colour of American transferware is extraordinary. Improvements in the extraction and refining of mineral cobalt produced a blue that is markedly more intense than the blue that was used for the home market: ‘A tint unexcelled and hardly equalled in modern wares... a never ceasing delight to the eye,’ gushes Alice Morse-Earle, in her 1892 book, China
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