Muddy Monday: Hagen-Renaker Factory Eras, Part One

This post has to be a two-parter, at least, because there is just too much material to cover, and it's bound to stir up disagreement. It's a subject Hagen-Renaker collectors talk about, but don't talk about. It's the stuff of behind-closed-doors discussions at the CHIN, during BreyerFest. You probably hold fast to your personal taste on this subject, but you only tell your closest collector friends, because you don't want it to affect the values of what you sell and seek. Others may only sniff out your heart's truth by examining the contents of your entire collection, since a show string on any given show day is very subjective. It is an insight into the collecting psyche when someone tells you their favorite Hagen-Renaker factory era. It is like personal, sensitive information; it's like giving competing collectors an informed advantage.

"Susie Creamcheese won't be bidding against me, because she doesn't care for San Marcos models."

"I know Jimbo Perkins LOVES Monrovia models, so I will dangle this carrot in trade!"

Manipulation! Spy versus spy! Wild feats of trading! This is another "opinion piece", and you all will get to know my secret crush. Since I am a happy and laid-back collector, it doesn't worry me that my weakness is made public. Come, play in my sandbox!

We all react, on a visual level, to the styles and colors of each factory era of Hagen-Renaker. There is also a tactile difference: sandy matte to smooth glossy; thin, light castings vs. the heavier, thick casting style of the reissues. Some collectors are particularly interested in what is rare, regardless of appearance or suitability for model horse "Breed" showing. The first thing that trips up the average HR collector and Collectibility judge is the assumption of 

oldest = greatest value.

I would argue that oldest does not mean the rarest, and the era of greatest value on the open market may not be the one with greatest value to you. A model is only worth what someone is willing to pay, or what at least two people have bid up at auction. Consider the previous post, where a Completist collector may be seeking a particular model they are missing from their conga for that era. A Completist will really save up, anticipate, and splurge on that last model needed from X era, because timing is everything. 

So, you say oldest does not mean most valuable... so, to some collectors, my Monrovia is less valuable than my reissue?

This is tricky. Yes, maybe.

Monrovia is the oldest HR factory era. However, it was very successful, and ran for a long time, compared to the other eras. For Maureen Love-designed DW horses, that era begins Spring 1954 (not counting the Mastersons) and ends with the factory closure of 1960. Technically. Although, as you'll see, tri-eyes and other Monrovia traits carried forward a little.

Nothing was numbered, nor account kept of edition size, in Monrovia. Given the choice, I am all about a numbered limited edition reissue, crispy shaded Roan Lady instead of a common white, no-detail, barely shaded Monrovia Roan Lady. Yes, I said it. Age does not trump numbered rarity and beauty, in my opinion. Your feelings may differ.

Monrovia itself is a misunderstood era, because it contains sub-styles that changed over its long life. Two Monrovia horses of the same color, condition, and mold may not be produced the same way. 

Here is an example of two Roughneck Morgan foals from the same sub-era of Monrovia. Both have bi-eyes, both are matte palomino (early Monrovia Roughneck palomino was glossy), and they have the same sticker on the belly.

However, they are so different, that the owner thought they were produced in different factories, until the stickers were examined. 

Models courtesy Jayne Kubas.

One was decorated with brown shading, the other with black. One has very little eye white. One had the pour hole towards the back end, one towards the front. One has softer mold detail.

From pigmented slip batch variations to individual employee styles, there is room for variations within a sub-era. There is a tendency to over simplify, lumping all Monrovia together as most valuable. The oversimplification extends to general identification of DWs: character eyes, tri-eyes, bi-eyes, brown/black eyes, lash-dot eyes, San Marcos brown/black, and reissues. This is not a complete, nor correctly ordered, summary!

***

Early Monrovia

"Character Eyes" is a succinct label for this era. Most experienced collectors know exactly what you mean by these words. At the same time that this was applied to Designer Workshop animals, HR was also producing licensed ware for Disney and the illustrated Cocker Spaniel, Butch. Cartoon embellishment was chic. It gave items "shelf appeal". Also, traditional pottery techniques, like filling pour holes and punching a smaller, unobtrusive vent hole elsewhere, were used in this time. Not all molds' pour holes were filled, but a lot of them. 

Character eyes: white "glints" in pupil and scleras, dark brown eyes, brows, and even lip and nostril liner.

These are all Early, therefore all filled pourholes...

Nope!

If you noticed the matte Monrovia palomino Roughnecks did not have filled pour holes, but this old guy does.

I have not seen a single Clover nor Scamper casting with a filled pour hole, in any era. 

Do you have one?

This sub-era went the extra mile. My best guess, going by character eyes on Sespe and other DW horses, is that this sub-era ended at 1954-55.

Middle Monrovia

Probably the best sub-set in this era. A time of pretty, named stickers and expressive tri-eyes on some ware. Oddly enough, we collectors often assume the older pieces all had tri-eyes, but bi-eyes happened in this era, too. 

The DW Swaps mold will be our illustration. 

Here's an Early-Middle guy with bi-eyes, maybe the oldest Swaps I've seen. 

What makes him so old? His belly.

I have seen other examples of bi-eyes on filled-pour-hole models.

Bi-eyes is not necessarily only for "younger" models.

I am guessing that this Swaps dates to the dawn of the Swaps mold, 1957, because he has the belly filled. Castings of the 9" DW Arabian family, Amir, Zara, and Zilla, that date to this sub-era, likewise exhibit the filled pour hole. In later years, they do not, until the revival of this practice in the reissues. You may note that few Swaps have a smoothed-over pour hole and a chest vent, and I've yet to see it on the other famous racehorse DW molds that followed him. However, the earlier Pay-Day (1954-57) has a filled, smooth pour hole. It does make one consider that filled bellies in Monrovia mean the oldest... not to be confused with filled bellies of reissues.

Note that Early Middle Monrovia (on the far right) has a filled pour hole and punched chest vent.

Late Monrovia

The eye decoration may have to be considered on a mold-by-mold basis. The tri-eyes were still in production as late as Fall 1962 (as seen on the DW Thoroughbred and Jockey). At the same time, more models show reduced eye decoration. Combined with plain bi-eyes or lash-dot eyes, the blue rectangle sticker can indicate a late Monrovia model. Simple dot eyes can also carry this sticker. You'll notice open pour holes start to creep in with this subset.

<  Late Monrovia, Middle, Early Middle >

Middle has a sticker that dates him 1959-63.

Late is almost purple in overspray, with a shading technique seen on San Dimas models.

But he's not San Dimas hued, nor 'eyed.

Transition Pieces

Easily, the rarest subset of all. These are pieces made during the months of transitioning from Monrovia to San Dimas, including changes to staff. They are very tricky to identify. It helps to compare side-by-side with Late Monrovia and early San Dimas and note eyes, mold quality, mold lines, pour holes or lack thereof, and leg stance. 

The guy in the middle, for all his San Dimas color, star marking, and features, has tri-eyes!

< San Dimas                             Monrovia>

One of the crispest Monrovia Swaps shows how much was changed between it and San Dimas version mold.

Monrovia-ish eyes on a transition Ferseyn, sporting San Dimas pink-nose and a Monrovia sticker.

***

Early San Dimas

Satin sheen matte, not quite as dry as Monrovia, starts to appear in this era. Open pour holes are a defining trait. Filling pour holes and punching a new hole (for gas exchange during kiln firing) required added labor. Painting tri-eyes means more materials and labor. More labor is added expense, at the end of the day. Simplified eye decoration of brown/black bi-eyes meant less materials (reduced by 1 color: white), less room for error, and less time spent per unit. San Dimas was a time of cutting the unnecessary, and competing with the imports that were choking the market.

That being said, this is my second-favorite sub-era. The improved mold details and the alterations (like the mane of Sun Cortez, for example) have such sharpness and flow. 


Late San Dimas

Some very dry matte (not enough glaze dip) finishes are known from this sub-era, like on the 6" "stoneware" doeskin Arabians. Eye decoration further simplified to black dot eyes. A proliferation of rarer colors, like the dun and the "red pinto" on the DW Mustang family. Not shown here is the Late San Dimas extremely-high-whites and red-head Swaps variations.

<Late San Dimas            Transition Horse>

Late SD model courtesy Jayne Kubas.

Left to right: Late SD no snip, Middle SD, Transition, Late Mon, Middle Mon, Early-Middle Mon

***

Early San Marcos

Harkening back to Monrovia's "golden age" of tri-eyes and filled pour holes, the factory really put its best foot forward.

<Early San Marcos palomino gloss       test liver chestnut>

More about why these are two different mold versions, but both finished in San Marcos.

Middle San Marcos

A flurry of new molds appeared in this sub-era. Eye decoration simplified to brown/black bi-eyes, much like San Dimas. This is probably my favorite, and not just because I root for an underdog, nor because I spent many hours riding real horses in the same city. I love the molds that were only available at this time, like the charming, genial DW Mule. As a potter, I love the decoration variations, especially on tougher-to-produce models, like the white-legged bay Clydesdales. This sub-era, in many ways, "feels like home", to me.

Late San Marcos

Bi-eyes. Solid "black" dot-eyes. The last two months of factory operation featured the blue and silver oval sticker. Just because it was "Late", doesn't mean all mold detail was weak. Extremely crispy mold detail can be found in this sub-era, right up to the end.

These bi-eyes are actually brown, not black, with white.

***

Early Reissues

These were often less realistic, more artsy colourways, like white bodies with blue translucent manes and tails. Eye and face detail gave a nod to the character eyes of Early Monrovia, including the nostril and mouth liner. A fanciful reduction of King Cortez became a Unicorn. With the exception of the laying foals, pour holes have been filled.

Middle Reissues

This sub-era got into its groove with fresh reissue DW molds each season, available in several colors. There were quick turn-around times from placing an order, to receiving the item in hand. This era is punctuated with the factory tackling the more complex decoration challenges of the tacked Sespe Violette, and DW Thoroughbred and Jockey. Special Runs (small editions) of DW foals with hand-painted white markings were made available. The factory transitioned from hand-lettering the edition information on the bases, to issuing paper certificates with each model. For example, in 2007, starting with #197, the Ferseyn edition received certificates. Production flaws, in clay and glaze, are widely acknowledged speed bumps in this otherwise fierce sub-era.

Current Reissues

I think these are the best of the reissues. Modified face decoration, more color options, many molds to choose from, brilliant mold detail... there are good things to say about the reissues you can order today. I'm pretty excited about reissues, as this is the first time in my collecting life that not only can I buy DWs new, but I also can have my choice of colors!

What is rare, when you can't access any records of numbers produced for most of the earlier factory eras?

That's a big question. What would the smallest single batch of a color on a mold be, in a for-profit production facility? Less than twenty? And remember when we thought Peggy Lou was rare, because the mold was only sold for one year, 1959?

When things are numbered, what is considered a low number, and thus added value?

The value of number order is sometimes just opinion or speculation. I have seen a limited edition model numbered under ten that had poor mold detail, while others of higher numbers, in the same run and color, were sharp. When in full production on a mold, it is difficult or seldom done to keep each casting drying, decorated, bisqued, and glazed in the exact order in which it was demolded. Add to this mixing of body order the fact that not all pieces will be perfect, so seconds will be pulled out of numerical order and destroyed. I speak from personal experience, as a small studio potter. I can't imagine having employees and a large scale production, and still keeping each casting in the order it popped out of the mold! It's not impossible, but highly unlikely in a business setting. Seconds happen.

Beyond that, weird accidents sometimes get included in the count! Like this odd rose gray Ferseyn, with black legs. He was shipped to fill an order for a normal rose gray, and his mate Sheba was normal rose gray, in the same order. This means that even a numbered edition may not be exactly composed of the colors that were advertised to order.

< Oddity                Normal>

If one considers that production is an evolving process, the models are going to change, as the numbers go higher. Consider the case of reissue rose gray Maverick. This white-sock bearing example is #8 in the edition. 

Now, they come in solid black legs.

Do you have a single favorite era? It's OK. You don't have to tell, if you don't want to.

I would like to hear if you have conflicting examples, or further observations within sub-eras!


Big thank-you to Jayne Kubas for sharing models for photos, and the normal Ferseyn; another shout-out to Susan Sackett for the abnormal Ferseyn.




References:


Alcorn, Ed and Falzone, Nancy. Hagen Renaker Stickers and Other Markings. Web page.
http://hagenrenakerhorses.com/WebPageStickers.html

Roller, Gayle. Hagen-Renaker: A Charlton Standard Catalogue. Third Edition. Pp. vi-xiii, 69, 86. The Charlton Press: Palm Harbor, FL, 2003.

Sackett, Susan. Ferseyn certificate. Pers. comm. 4/23/2014

Muddy Monday: No Wrong Answers on the Collector Achievement Test

A collector friend stopped by for a chat, and the subject of styles of collecting really struck me. When getting into collecting anything, it is easy to get the impression that there is only one way to "win" at collecting. The weird thing about this is, there is no scorekeeper. You can't go by ribbons from judged shows, either, because one may have an amazing collection at home, and never show but one or two horses, ever! It isn't a contest, and there is no one way to "do it right". You have your own reasons for collecting what you do; there are just as many ways of collecting as there are ambitions or needs to do it. I touched on this subject in this post, but the recent conversation brought to light a perspective I had not considered.

That perspective is that of displaying one's collection as a showcase of acquisitions, for an unspecified but anticipated viewership (i.e., house guests, office clients). 

In this style, the displays are arranged by collectibility or ease of recognition by other knowledgeable collectors. The message is, "Look how hard I have worked to assemble this group", and it is meant to impress. Like a museum display, it focuses on the anticipated audience, and evoking awe from them.

There's nothing wrong with this. It is one of several collecting philosophies or drives in the pantheon. 

Until my friend verbalized it, it did not occur to me that she sees everyone's cabinets as speaking to her this way. I'm on the other end of the spectrum. This is no gallery show. My cabinets are not kept spotless. I dust once every couple years, as shelves need maintenance. I arrange things by art reference for my own visual learning, and by what-fits-where. It is an uncreative, practical approach. It probably makes little sense to collectibility-minded visitors. I've got mixed sizes and all manufacturers sharing the same shelves, realistic in with fantasy, glazed right next to bisques. Broken or dismembered pieces are right in with mint ones. Family sets are divided. The only obvious strategy is pieces arranged by mold or breed subject, even if the manufacturers are random. Almost all of them stand side-by-side, like books in a library's stacks. It makes sense to me, but I run my cabinets like an intern in the back of a museum, not like the exhibits in the front. Everything gets an ID number, cataloged, and set on its shelf, whether it has legs to stand on, or not. I used to even have information typed out and tagged with some items, in the cabinet. Each sherd is important for study, and I do have some sherds. When I learn new things about a piece, that data gets added to the catalog. I blogged about keeping inventory, here.

An utter mishmash of factories, finishes, sizes, and ceramic media.

The only order is by mold!

My cabinet is also like a barn. It is housing for sculptures to keep them safe and reasonably clean, yet readily accessible as reference. The Kentucky Horse Park, it is not. No photos for public posting. No pastoral shelves of foals at their dams' sides. Perhaps, I am missing something with my pragmatic approach: static display showmanship. From my perspective, I look at other folks' cabinets as if they are barns, too. When I see family groupings and full-body lateral displays, these strike me as unusual. At the same time, I never questioned why they do this, nor why I do not. 

I have been lax in not considering potential viewers when I arranged these cabinets. It is becoming a concern because, more and more, we do have visitors. I am hosting a show late this Fall, and there will be visitors with this specialized interest, curious to see the collection. Maybe it is time to let my collection have a dual purpose, and present it as exhibits, as well as my research archives. I realize this sounds odd to those collectors who already showcase their collectibles with flair. It was never something I considered for myself, before. My goal with this blog has been to make the trivia of ceramic animal collecting and production more accessible. I surely can think of ways to make my cabinet reflect the same.

Then, I started thinking about the other styles of collecting. Can the approaches to the universal facets of collecting be charted? 

Style	Completist	Archivist	Gallery	Casual	Competing Exhibitor
Collection Process	Defined by being complete; challenged by new discoveries or lost rarities	Thoroughly tagged, cataloged, and pieces seldom leave	In constant flux, as new pieces are added and others are pulled out for fresh groupings	As available, no order to acquisition	In constant flux, as new pieces are added and old pieces are retired from the show string
Composition & Goal	A finite, achievable set number serves as checklist	Infinite variations, factory tests, goofs	A finite and highly selective checklist comprising the most important pieces	Interconnected web of others’ collections make up the known whole (being a fellow collector is the only aim)	Selective checklist comprising the most competitive or newest pieces
Housing	Cabinet displays, as well as stored items, due to sheer quantity	Cabinets are practical use of space	Displays designed to impress others; items “off exhibit” are stored	Minimal organization, cabinet displays are to please self only	Large percentage of collection is in boxes for show transport, or campaigning with proxies

The Completist Collector

I have a problem with the Google definition of "completist":

n. an obsessive, typically indiscriminate fan or collector


The completists I knew and know were very discriminating; they were the first to teach me about "upgrading". This is just as it sounds, purchasing a duplicate and comparing it with the current collection, with the intent of improving by replacement. The lesser item, whether new or old to the collection, is then culled.

I much prefer the Merriam-Webster:

n.  one who wants to make something (as a collection) complete

Who is a completist? You might have been one, at the start. Or, maybe you are in a position to become one, with a change in space, employment, or finances? Completists typically have at least two out of three things that make this possible:

1. display space and storage
2. funds to devote to the collection
3. time to devote to finding the items 

Time and funds are similar enough in their yields that they are almost the same plus for a collector.

The fourth plus would be a network of fellow collectors to help you with your goal, but this takes time to build. Thus, you must have #3 time to invest, just to acquire #4.

A person may experience a whole range of these collecting directions, housing, and processes over their lifetime... some may have elements of several styles going, at one time. Many collectors change their interests from decade to decade, or year to year. There is now so much more available to ceramic animal collectors than ever before, such that changes in fancy come with the territory. Some collectors swap out ceramics for the latest offering on a monthly basis.

I know several friends with a sampling of traits across the board, not fitting into one column. 

I have visited several private film memorabilia collections, over the years. In some collections, whether vast or modest, nothing was organized, just space being the limiting and arranging factor. I have had to step or hop over props to just reach a vantage point to see others. This might be one small spare bedroom, or an enormous house. It can't be termed "warehousing", because that implies inventory lists, shelves, and maybe crates or boxes. Ultimately, such a lack of organization is antithetical to the goal of the Completist. How can one possibly know where one is on the road to completion, if you can't access an inventory of what you already have?



The Advanced Collector

The use of this word feels inappropriate regarding a collector of anything, because it is so hard to quantify. A brand-new beginner is pretty easy to identify, but the lines beyond that are a haze. A written test of the molds and colors would separate the beginners from the vets, but there is no standardized Collector Achievement Test. If you go by quantity in a collection, it does not give one a reliable assessment. I had one of the smallest collections when I was already a year into this blog. I was doing research and active in the model hobby, even a show hostess. As few pieces as I had, the percentage of unusual or hard-to-find was high. If the measurement was by a number alone, I would have been classified a "beginner" or intermediate.

If time is the measurement, well, I know of collectors who have amassed significant collections (in size and rarity) in less than a year. Time is certainly an advantage to meeting one's goals, but it is not the only factor. For this reason, the synonym "seasoned" doesn't work.

Monetary investment is not a true indicator. There are collectors who are original owners, having purchased their rare, mid-century models at retailers when they were new... for around three to five dollars, each. Even today, some collectors make it a personal goal to only bargain-hunt for their ceramics, electing to restore them, and thus collect models for pennies on the dollar. The dawn of eBay brought its share of such bargains, as well as overpayment for common models by virtue of bidders competing.

Still, there are some solid achievement markers that can indicate the advanced status of a collector:

1. retailed a Special Run
2. wrote a book on the subject
3. collaborated in some productive way with the factory 
4. collaborated in a productive way with author(s) on the subject

There are more, I just haven't thought of them by print time. Collaborating may include submitting models for photography in the related books, interviews, illustrations, editing and proofreading, or any number of collecting-knowledge-required tasks.



Dialing Back

This is a very interesting phase to the observer of human nature, and it may occur more than once in a collector's life. It's not the same as having your collection lost in a situation outside your control; this is a careful, measured, grand-scale change. A handful of friends are going through this, as I type, for their own varied reasons. One similarity between all of them is that they have their finger on the pulse of the factors that trigger their personal happiness or discomfort. They know themselves well, and they are making collecting decisions acknowledging that. This is a pretty big thing, self-awareness. 

Downsizing may be done in advance of a complete shift to collecting something else. It looks to me more like a streamlining of collection focus. Some collectors do completely "get out", it's true. It seems more frequently, two or three items are held back because of those first heartstrings they pulled: the ones that started the whole symphony.


Getting Serious

Returning to the opening of this post, I'm thinking seriously about how to improve the showmanship of my collection before Clinky Classic, this Fall. I'm window-shopping professional cabinets online, and clicking through the many different cabinet hardware options. This link is a great starting point for anyone looking for an upgrade in hardware. Uniform display is one of those things that really adds the "wow factor". It's not lost on me, I dig it. Lighting is another part of the static display that I don't think of until the cabinet is loaded, and then I notice how suddenly dark it has become! 

Of course, now that I've thought on this, the memories of visitors having trouble seeing certain things, all leap to mind. It further spurs me on to do a better job in displaying, because the point is to learn from these past artworks. It's hard to grasp (literally!) if you can't see it clearly. I want to keep my collecting goal to share and emphasize the handmade nature of the ceramics. Since I am not a completist, there is a lot less pressure for me. Staying on track with what I love about collecting and sharing is completely achievable, it is just evolving. 


Where are you in the chart? Have you been "serious" and now casual? When did your "beginner" status pupate into an advanced state? 


Thank you to Maggie Barkovitz for twisting my arm into a Lippitt conga; Jenn Dodd for the initial conversation; Kim Bjorgo for the hardware link!