Plate 1755 - 1765

Editor: So, here we have a "Plate," made sometime between 1755 and 1765 by the Nymphenburg Porcelain Manufactory. It’s ceramic porcelain, a piece of decorative art now hanging out at the Met. I’m struck by how delicate and slightly off-kilter it is; those hand-painted flowers aren't perfect, and the wavy edge feels kind of charmingly imperfect. How does it strike you? Curator: Oh, it's more than just charming, it's practically a whispered conversation from a bygone era! It's Rococo doing its domestic thing, isn't it? These plates weren't meant for museum cases, darling, but for laden tables, sparkling wine, gossip and flirtation, you can almost smell the jasmine! Don't you think? Editor: Totally! I get that sense of lived-in luxury, and a good old gossip, maybe! The single color scheme seems subdued, though, considering Rococo’s reputation. Why do you think they kept it so monochrome? Curator: Ah, now, perhaps because it's trying to whisper rather than shout, right? The monochrome helps to soften those slightly asymmetric details – this aesthetic might suggest the coming transition from Rococo towards Neoclassicism, where forms became more severe, right? Although here the form of the plate has got a character, a playfulness I don’t usually associate with tableware, I think! Does that ring true with your intuition about it? Editor: That tension between playfulness and restraint is really interesting. So, while being all pretty, this plate quietly heralds an aesthetic shift. I guess even a dish can be revolutionary, in its own small way! Curator: Precisely! Every bloom and carefully placed leaf speaks of larger movements in taste and style. It is delightful isn't it to listen for it, hidden in the silent objects?