FROM THE DESK OF OUR
EDITOR
Here’s the perfect
way to cool off, and enjoy those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer: your Summer edition of CAS Collectors Quarterly! We’ve got
plenty of treats in store for you on every page. There are details on the
upcoming WPA Show and our CAS Collectors Informal Dinner, both on
August 24th. . .a look at that “other” CAS designer, the mysterious
“Rebus”. . .Betty Harrington’s “Gift Show Memories” in “As Betty Intended. . .a
reprint from one of our club’s very first newsletters, focusing on an interview
with Betty. . .and a “Curious Collector” study of a favorite from bygone days,
“Carnival Glass.” Plus, of course, the latest misadventures of our club mascot,
the unforgettable Mr. Mouse. Let the good times begin!
AND THE WINNER WAS.
. .
In the “Spring”
edition of CAS Collectors Quarterly, our “CAS Trivia Contest” posed the
following question:
“The flowers around
my neck keep me smelling sweet. But say goodbye to any coins you drop inside
me. Once I get them, they’re mine for keeps!”
The first correct
answer came from Lori Johnson, who quickly responded “the CAS Skunky Bank!” As
the prize for her detecting efforts, Lori chose the Tile from our 2022
Convention. In her acknowledgement, Lori wrote: “Thank you so much! I always
enjoy the newsletter.” Thank you, Lori – and congrats!
AND THE NEXT CONTEST
IS. . .
This issue’s “CAS
Trivia Contest” strikes a musical note (pun intended). Here are the clues:
“Out of the way,
orchestra kids! You don’t know what real music is, until you’ve heard us play.
We may have blank expressions, but the 6 of us can jam with the best of them.
Who are we?”
Think you know the
answer? Well, of course you do! As always, you’ll find the solution included somewhere within
the articles of this issue. Once you’ve located it,
rush your response to Editor Don Johnson. The lucky winner will receive a
Convention Commemorative of his or her choice. (Check the Classified listings,
to see what’s available.) Who will it be? Maybe you!
FABULOUS FIND
Some folks have all
the luck. Jeffery Grayson recently wrote us, saying,
“I was shopping at a mall near
You’ll see a photo
of Jeffery’s find, a beautiful 6” high vase by early Studio designer William
Hallberg, on the cover of this issue. Studio co-founder Reuben Sand remembered
Hallberg as a “very experienced potter and an excellent thrower, with a trunkful
of formulas for glazes and clay mixtures. He also knew how to make molds and
the like. I hired him, and he was really a skilled guy, but I never saw that
trunk!”
Maybe he didn’t have
a trunk, but what William Hallberg did have was plenty of talent! Thanks
Jeffery, for sharing a beautiful (and hard-to-find) example of the Studio’s
earliest work.
(By the way, we also
appreciated the kind words Jeffery included in a followup
message: “Thanks
for all the Club does to keep Ceramic Arts Studio and Betty Harrington memories
alive!”)
We’ll continue to
give it our best, Jeffery!
EBAY ODDITIES
Well, she certainly looks like Arabesque, with pretty much the
same pose and costume. . . but wait a second. What’s with all that gold trim?
And those gold shoes? And that gold crown?
The eBay seller
played it safe by adding a question mark after “by Ceramic Arts Studio?” in the
listing, but it’s definitely an unmarked Japanese
import, obviously “inspired” by the real thing. And, as “inspirations” go,
she’s very nicely done. So if you run across one,
she’d make an attractive companion for Attitude & Arabesque on your
wall, as part of a dancing trio. (Of course, with that crown, we know who’ll
want to be the star of the show!)
JON-SAN ALSO-RANS
CAS Collectors are undoubtedly
familiar with Jon-San Creations, the metal accessories company that ran
in conjunction with CAS. Founded in 1954 by Reuben Sand, Jon-San’s stated
purpose was to produce “metal pieces that would complement and enhance Ceramic
Arts Studio figurines.” Betty Harrington put it more bluntly: the Jon-San
intent was to “help some of the more difficult pieces sit or perch a little bit
more firmly, so they wouldn’t be falling and breaking.”
Most of the Jon-San
metal pieces we know, from Miss Muffet’s Cobweb to the Artist’s
Palette, were designed by Zona Liberace, CAS Head Decorator (and, in case
you’ve forgotten, stepmother of the famed pianist.) But, since both the Studio
and Jon-San closed in 1955, some ideas never came to fruition. However, thanks
to a booklet of “Jon-San Creations Design Conference Notes,” gifted to us by
Reuben’s daughter, Sarah Sandhill, we have some idea of those unrealized
projects. Here’s what was on the docket according to the September 11, 1954 meeting notes:
“Zona is to work on
the following for presentation upon completion: Jack & Beanstalk; Circus
Wagon; Sun & Rooster; Hen & Chicks; Golfer & Caddy Bag; Bird House;
Windmill; Masks; and Church Window, plus 5 items to go with the Nursery Rhyme
Theme.”
Now, we’ve seen Jack’s
Beanstalk, some of the Nursery Rhyme pieces, and the Church Window, but
as for the rest. . .well, we can dream!
A SELFIE WITH YOUR
“FAV”: DON & “M’AMSELLE”
For “A Selfie With Your Fav,” we’ve made it through the rest of the CAS
Collectors Board members, and now it’s your Editor’s turn. Although I have
many favorites in my CAS collection, one figurine tops the list, and here’s
why.
In 1996, I was lucky
enough to attend the first CAS Convention. I’d just recently begun collecting, and was not yet familiar enough with the group
to have pre-ordered one of Betty Harrington’s limited Commemoratives, M’amselle. When I arrived at the Convention, I had
the wonderful opportunity to meet Betty, and learn of her limited edition.
After that, there was nothing I wanted more than my very own M’amselle. . .but all 100 were spoken for.
Fast forward to some
years later, when Tim (Holthaus), Jim (Petzold) and I were working on our CAS
book. On a
The car made a quick
turn, and instead of reaching the hotel, we were soon back at Tim and Jim’s
home. “Wait here,” they said. So I waited, and it
wasn’t long before the two were back with a box. “Open it,” said Jim. I did,
and inside the box was a M’amselle. “It’s the
last one,” said Tim. “Betty told us to keep it safe, and that one day we’d know
just the right person to give it to.”
And that’s why M’amselle is, and always will be, my favorite
creation from the mind of Betty Harrington. Thanks, Tim and Jim (and, of
course, Betty!)
FROM A DECORATOR’S
KITCHEN
A highlight of CAS
Collectors Quarterly has always been a mouthwatering recipe from one of our
favorite CAS decorators, Marlys Wilkinson!
During their years
at CAS, Marlys and her co-workers exchanged many recipes, which we’ve included
in previous newsletters. After awhile, those ran out
– but Marlys was kind enough to provide us with additional delicious recipes
from her own kitchen, plus tried-and-true recipes from favorite cookbooks and
magazines. For this issue, we’ve selected an updated “retro recipe” that’s just
the thing for summertime snacking!
MICROWAVE
BREAD-AND-BUTTER PICKLES
1/2 tsp. turmeric
1 tsp. salt
1 heaping tsp.
mustard seed
1-1/2 tsp. celery
seed
1-1/2 cups cider
vinegar
1-1/2 cups white
sugar
5 to 6 medium
cucumbers with skin intact, sliced thin
3 to 4 medium
onions, sliced thin
Put the first 6
ingredients into a large, microwave-safe bowl, and cook on high for 3 minutes.
Add the vegetables, and stir to coat. Cook on high for
another 3 minutes; stir again. If the veggies aren’t tender-crisp, cook a
little longer. (Don’t cook them too long, or they will be soft — they taste
much better crunchy!) If you immediately seal them in sterilized jars, your can store them on the shelf.
Otherwise, it’s better to refrigerate them.
Can’t wait to try
them! And now. . .let the CAS summertime fun begin!
Donald-Brian Johnson
Editor
REMEMBERING REUBEN
By Donald-Brian Johnson
Reuben Sand,
founder of Ceramic Arts Studio, died on October 21, 2005
of double pneumonia. As per his wishes, Mr. Sand’s ashes were distributed in
Half Moon Bay, near his San Mateo, California home. On November 4th,
Reuben Sand would have celebrated his 90th birthday.
The
story of Mr. Sand and the Studio has, over the years, been told so many times
that it has assumed the status of familiar legend. How, in 1940,
Reuben and potter Lawrence Rabbitt teamed up to turn a deserted lean-to on
Madison’s Blount Street into the loftily-named
“Ceramic Arts Studio”. How the Studio’s early hand-thrown pots met with little
success (and how many of them leaked!) How a chance meeting in 1941
with the amazing designer Betty Harrington led Reuben and the Studio in an
entirely new direction—the creation of figural ceramics. And how,
thanks to Betty’s talent for design, and Reuben’s talent for production and
marketing, the little lean-to in Madison soon became the nation’s top supplier
of decorative ceramics.
What’s
often forgotten is just how young Reuben Sand was when he
embarked on his CAS venture—only 25. And, while collectors see the
Studio years—from 1940 until 1955—as an endless source of study and enjoyment,
for Reuben Sand this was just one stop along the way, in a long and successful
life and career.
That may
be why, for many years, Mr. Sand resisted the urge to reminisce about Studio
days—he had, after all, done so much more! Collectors were overjoyed
when, in 1993, Reuben agreed to travel to Madison for the first-ever
comprehensive Ceramic Arts Studio exhibit, sponsored by the Wisconsin Pottery
Association. A touching, final reunion between entrepreneur Reuben and designer
Betty was a highlight of the occasion. Then it was back to
California, and on with life.
When it
came time to begin work on our book Ceramic Arts Studio: The Legacy of
Betty Harrington, my co-authors and I felt it was extremely important
to include current commentary by the man who started it all—Reuben
Sand. We already had, thanks to Betty Harrington’s diligence, and
the generosity of her family, extensive materials documenting her part of the
story. Thanks to CAS researcher Roseann Lindner, we also had detailed
recollections by Lawrence Rabbitt. We’d spoken with many past Studio
workers. What we needed was Reuben.
Every
several weeks, I called and left a message at the contact number I’d been
given. For months there was no response. Then one morning, the phone rang. I
picked it up, and a deep, somewhat gravelly voice said, “This is Reuben Sand.
Why do you keep calling me?”
I
explained who I was, and the project I was working on. There was a pause, then
Reuben began to express his doubts. He’d “been interviewed before”; they “always got it wrong”; they “never asked
the right questions” and “never let him read it first”.
This
went on for awhile. When there was a lull, I
assured him that we had something different in mind. We planned on using his
comments in the first person, just as he conveyed them, editing only for length
or repetition. He would see the material before it went to print,
and would have the right to correct (or delete) anything inaccurate.
Another
pause. I could tell he was considering the idea. Then he continued: “What if my
comments don’t agree with what other people say?”
“Well,”
I replied, “folks will have the opportunity to read both, and can make up their
own minds.”
Whether that
did the trick (or whether he was just tired of talking to me), Mr. Sand
agreed. I was to send him a list of the questions I would be asking.
He would call me at a set date and time, and answer those (and only those)
questions. “And I want a transcript.”
“No
problem,”, I said, (instantly hoping to avail myself of Roseann Lindner’s
transcription talents).
And so it began. On the set day, at the set time, the
phone rang. I switched on the recorder. “Hello. This is Reuben
Sand. Question number one---Donald-Brian Johnson asks. . . . Question number one---Reuben Sand replies. . . .”
Oh boy,
I thought. Is this going to be tedious. But I’d put
together what I felt were some pretty good questions, and at least we’d have
those first-person responses, even if they were being read from a carefully
prepared script.
I tuned
back in, just as Reuben was intoning a very lengthy explanation of how he met Larry Rabbitt, and determined to start a business. “We found
an empty lean-to at 12 North Blount Street that was 50 feet long by
25 feet wide, and at the time was used for storing rebars. . .”
“What
are rebars?” I interrupted, in spite of myself.
“That’s
not on the question list,” said Reuben, and continued: “Lawrence wanted
the name of the pottery to be called the ‘Ceramic Arts Studio’. . .”
“Why?”
“I
answer that in question number 5.”
“Oh”.
There
was a pause. “But I suppose I might as well talk about it now. Larry had been making a few items such as ashtrays and bowls and
little pots, and fashioned himself to be working in a ‘studio’—had sort of a
nice ring to it—an ‘arts studio’. I simply said, ‘if you think that is a good
name, OK’. Later on, people wondered how this ‘arts
studio’ was kicking out thousands of pieces—there must have been a lot of
artists hard at work!”
He
chuckled, off script, and enjoying the recollection. From that moment on, the
question-and answer list was forgotten, and the
memories poured forth fast and furious.
This was
just the first of many wonderful phone conversations I had with Reuben Sand.
Over the next several years, we’d talk on a regular basis. Sometimes I’d call,
to make sure I was explaining a particular facet of Studio life correctly.
Sometimes he’d call, to clarify or expand on a previous response, or to tell me
to look for “a package on its way” (thanks to Reuben, original Studio catalogs,
copyrights, photos, and the like soon added to our treasure trove of research
material.)
Sometimes,
one or the other of us would call “just to talk”. And, true to my
word, I always kept a transcript.
When our
book was ready for print, I sent Reuben’s sections to him, as promised, for his
approval. He was effusive in his praise, offering few corrections, and asking
only for the elimination of one brief anecdote. (An early CAS worker
had an unhealthy fondness for knives and other sharp objects. Reuben had found
the story amusing when he first told it to me, but now thought it might be best
removed. “Who knows?”, he said, “that girl may still be
around. And she may still have those knives!”)
Basking
in Mr. Sand’s praise, I couldn’t resist adding, “and your words are just as you
said them—I’m sure you checked the transcripts.”
“Oh”,
replied Reuben, “I never read those. I just wanted to see if you would keep
your promise.”
Reuben
Sand was easily one of the most fascinating, entertaining people I’ve met in my
life—and I never even had the opportunity to meet him in
person! Imagine the response he must have evoked in those who knew
him and worked with him first-hand. Over and over in my research for
our book, I would encounter former Studio workers who would describe Reuben as
“the best boss”, and CAS as “the best job ever”. Somebody
was doing something right—and that somebody was Reuben Sand.
I once
asked Reuben if he ever gave much thought to the Studio “legacy”. A moment or
two went by, and then he said, “You know, one of my biggest worries used to be
that two thousand years from now some geologist would be digging, and nothing
could be found but Ceramic Arts Studio figurines. And the pundits of the time
would say, ‘in the years 1940-1960 or so, this was the state of the
civilization that existed.’ A pretty good state though. Better than a lot of
things they could be digging up. You know, I have so many fond memories of
Ceramic Arts Studio and those I worked with. They were all solid, wonderful
people. I guess I am just one of the luckiest guys in the world.”
We were
the lucky ones, Reuben. Our thanks, for a life
well-lived.
