Tray (probably for a teapot) 1780 - 1805

Editor: So, we are looking at what's likely a porcelain tray, made sometime between 1780 and 1805. It’s currently held at The Met. It's delicate; it has tiny, whimsical floral and butterfly paintings that almost float on the surface. What springs to your mind when you look at it? Curator: Well, isn’t it charming? It whispers of tea ceremonies and whispered conversations. Think of a Rococo salon, all silk and powdered wigs. It feels as though a swarm of butterflies landed right on the potter’s wheel and decided to stay, didn't it? I wonder what secrets this little tray holds, what gossip it overheard as teacups clinked and cakes were devoured? Editor: Absolutely! You mentioned the Rococo era, but beyond the aesthetic, were there specific influences that shaped this kind of piece? Curator: Indeed. The craze for all things Asian was still simmering. Porcelain itself was like alchemic gold to Europeans at the time, they prized it, and they loved imitating Chinese and Japanese designs while adding their flourishes. How delightfully Western, this blend of yearning and adaptation! Does it strike you as more successful here or derivative? Editor: Hmm, interesting. I’d say it strikes me as less about imitating and more about reinterpreting. It has its own…lightness. I was so fixated on butterflies! They embody the short nature of beauty. Curator: You’ve pinned down that flutter of beauty yourself! The ephemeral quality that reflects both the delicacy of the porcelain, and the transient, fashionable lives lived around it. Makes one a little nostalgic, doesn’t it? It’s funny how objects outlive us and end up carrying bits of our lives for centuries to come.