Details
The following history is almost identical to the other Papier Mache boxes found on C&K. For product-specific details, please scroll down to the paragraph break. Also, please forgive the apparent shade of some of the photos... I fear some of them have come out a bit too dim. The brighter examples are more true to the real shade of the item (as well as the video), although I fear no photos can truly do this piece justice...
Some of you might be familiar with these stunning Russian boxes, but few know the story of their origins. It actually began over 200 years ago...
It began in a town called Fedoskino. They began developing the techniques that would spawn Russian lacquer boxes in the late 1600s. Fedoskino was the center of the art of creating religious icons (highly-sought-after paintings of religious symbols and characters). Having developed some truly breathtaking painting techniques (including using liquified precious metals such as gold and silver and painting with a single hair follicle for some of the most spectacular detail I've ever come across), it was the natural birthplace of these stunningly intricate boxes. Starting in the 1800s, they were made specifically of a papier-mâché base. This would take approximately 6 weeks to complete and would include a base of linseed oil, rendering it impervious to moisture. This ensured a stable base that would not warp and does not change size due to temperature changes. Then, the painting process would begin. First, it passes through the hands of an apprentice who ensures a smooth base of colour - the interior is painted bright red and the exterior a deep black. When the masters get their hands on these pieces is when the magic begins. Using a magnifying glass, in many cases, and the richest and brightest pigments available, the master painter applied the stunning colours and textures you see here. The borders and signature along the bottom are the most obvious places, but you can see the application of precious metals throughout the piece. The crescent moon and stars are golden, while the filigree border, so obsessively painted with a single hair, is made of liquid silver. The detail is just staggering. However, the piece you see here wasn't made in Fedoskino. In the 1800s, 4 towns emerged as the leaders of papier-mâché lacquer boxes, each of which specializing in their own methods and styles. As such, one can tell apart the pieces based on their colours and textures, as well as the methods of applying these magnificent pigments. Kholui, Palekh, Fedoskino and Mstyora are the 4 towns in question and they still produce these stunning pieces, although after the fall of the USSR in 1991, their quality waned. The popularity of these boxes skyrocketed with international recognition and, naturally and most-unfortunately, resulted a ton of counterfeits and fakes. Luckily, manufacturers of fake pieces are not patient, so the box itself doesn't go through the rigours of proper papier-mâché manufacture. The fakes are made of plastic or resin, so they're easily identified. Firstly, one could find a slight grid pattern on the base, indicating a machine-made box. The linseed oil base would start to settle after 6 months or so, releasing a distinct odour, so the interior has a definite 'antique' smell to it, nearly impossible to replicate with a resin box. The weight of these fake boxes would be significantly heavier, as well. Papier-mâché was very light. The texture of the box would easily reveal the content, as well. One must simply tap or flick the bottom of the box. If there's a sharp sound or a click, it's not the genuine article. Papier-mâché boxes sound muted, almost soft, when tapped. Lastly and most-importantly, we must examine the image itself. Does it look like a sticker? Is there the depth that comes with layers of meticulous application of lacquer? A magnifying glass is very useful in finding these imperfections and identifying a fake. Luckily, our box checks all the right boxes and their originality is not in question. These pieces (of which C&K is lucky to have 2) were imported by my family over 30 years ago, brought to this country by my grandfather's own hands, from the original artisan. The quality of these pieces are as varied as the designs. The artists range from apprentices to masters and everything in between. Many, you'll find, are of lower quality - the colours not as deep or diverse, the detail, in many cases, sadly wanting. The boxes, as well, are as varied as the images. However, you'll notice that C&K pieces are only of the utmost quality and crafted by true masters of their art. Luckily, my grandfather ensured as much.
The artistic merit of the piece is no longer in question, nor is the origins of this stunning box, but who's that lady? Why is there a palace behind her? Why is she wearing a crown?
Snegurchka (Snow Maiden, in English) has been a part of Russian folklore for centuries, but only in the late-1800s did she get her own fairy tale. There are 2 versions, the first of which was published in 1869 by Alexander Afanasyev. I warn you, these Slavic fairy tales are no Mother Goose rhymes. Like Hansel and Gretel (the real Scandinavian story is terrifying), these fairy tales usually result in death or some sort of tragedy. In Afanasyev's version, two childless peasants, Mariya and Ivan are desperate for a child. They make a small child out of snow and it magically comes to life. They call her Snegurochka and she grows very quickly. One day, a group of girls invite her into the woods to play. They build a small fire and take turns jumping over it. When it's Snegurochka's turn, she leaps, but is instantly turned into a puff of steam when she breaches the fire. Sad, no? The second version is a little more cheerful and is the version I grew up with, but the change was for a reason. At the end of the Russian Empire, Snegurochka was part of Christmas celebrations. She would adorn the fir tree and there were figurines of her likeness gifted to children all over the country. But when Russia became the USSR, Christmas was banned, as were any other Christian traditions. However, Russians were allowed to celebrate the New Year, starting in 1935. There is a long-standing traditional character called 'Ded Moroz' (translated to Father Frost) who has been a character of Russian folklore for centuries. Snegurochka was adopted as his granddaughter, allowing her image to be celebrated once more.
In our piece, Snegurochka is presented in all her ethereal beauty. Her pale skin and and ice-blue eyes shine in stark contrast to the black background. Her father's palace peeks from behind the beautiful deep green-blue foliage surrounding her. Although the plants are gorgeous and detailed, their intricacy pales in comparison to Snegurochka. If only these photos could do her justice... Her hair is impossibly detailed, the snowflakes adorning her flowing coat, even the barely-discernible detail on her cuffs - it's evident the master responsible for this piece was gifted in the use of a single-follicle brush. Even with a loupe, I'm staggered at the painstaking detail. As with all Fedoskino masterpieces, gold is used liberally throughout the image. Not just the collar and bottom details of her flowing coat, but even among the white, fur edges, showing its lush fullness. The border has been spared no detail, with real silver flakes scattered among the 24 kt gold border. Along the bottom, the details of the piece are written in gold - 'Snegurochka,' 'Blinova T,' and 'Artist No. 283.' The lower portion of this beautiful piece contains a simple dotted line that follows around the entire box. As well, it is not simply a rectangular box, with a slightly protruding lip along the opening edge and a slight bulge along the bottom body of the box. It measures 9cm in width, 14cm in depth and 3cm tall.
In terms of condition, unfortunately, moisture has permeated the lacquer, on the surface (for further details on this, please refer to some of the descriptions of the other papier mache boxes on C&K... I am intimately familiar with their formation). As a result, there are several slight cracks along the surface of the clear coat. However, they have not affected the pigment underneath and the image is, for lack of a better word, perfect. he structure of the piece is equally unaffected by these surface imperfections. The very bottom has a couple of exceedingly tiny cracks, barely worth the mention (however, I insist on revealing any imperfections to these masterpieces). I have taken lengthy steps to avoid any further degradation to the quality of the piece and preserve the remaining integrity of the lacquer.
It is a simply staggering example of the true mastery of the artistic genius of Fedoskino papier mache lacquer boxes.
As always, should you have any questions or comments, I'm always happy to respond, almost immediately, to any queries.
Thank you for visiting C&K!