Collecting Addiction

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • March 18, 2013

I must confess, I have an addiction.


I like to...


...collect.


Not so surprising for a historic house museum curator. My “addiction” encompasses several specific areas. I am not a hoarder, I do not collect junk in my backyard and the basement is not filled with “things.” Some people might find what I collect useless, but sometimes the simple everyday item, from a nail to an old railroad spike, intrigues me for its simplicity and its beauty.


If you know me, or if you have read the “Portrait of the Curator as Darth Vader” entry for this blog, then you realize that I don’t preen in front of the mirror. Given the fact that mostly just the books and archives see me all winter, my hair typically looks like it needs a good combing (since I am pulling goggles and respirator on and off all day) unless I have a meeting or I am out in public.

But I do have a thing for a good “kitchen” mirror. Typically a mirror of the mid to late 19th century, it is rectangular in shape with rounded corners and hopefully some nice grain painting on the wood frame. Oftentimes, you will find crazing in the glass and black marks or missing “mirrored” areas caused by the loss of the silver painted onto the back of the glass. I like these mirrors for the simpler time they speak of and for the simplicity of their style, but also for their patina of time. In the Mitchell House, we have a mirror of a similar age and shape used by Peleg Mitchell Jr. for shaving.

 

Enamel is another fascination of mine. Enamelware could be found throughout kitchens in many parts of the world. Enamelware took off in popularity in the United States in the latter half of the nineteenth century – all shapes and sizes, all sorts of domestic uses from slotted spoons to cups, pitchers, strainers, plates, or basins. Think of it as 19th century Tupperware and the child of tinware. You might even be familiar with the enamel numbers for homes or streets. Enamelware can be plain, mottled, or marbled – the marbled being much harder to find and thus more prized. In my collection, I have one cup that was once part of a four piece set that belonged to my grandmother’s family. They used it when they went camping. I guess when family camping stopped, the cups got used for other purposes until only one was left. This one had become a birdseed scoop until it was given to me by my Mother who knows of my enamelware fetish. But even as a scoop, it was still being used and thus memories of family camping persisted and memories of those who used it were an everyday thought. Now on the top of an old jelly cupboard, it is still a daily memory of my grandmother, her parents, and her brother as I see it each day in the kitchen.


Depression-era glass (Depression Glass), 18th and 19th century pottery shards – yes, I have been known to dig in dirt piles – old bottles that I have unearthed in same named piles or at the ̓Sconset dump, seaglass, and historic postcards specifically of the Mitchell House are also some things I collect. (When my husband found out the price I paid for a vintage postcard of Mitchell House on eBay, I thought he would faint.) I also collect other images of Mitchell House, such as paintings and old photographs – I myself am a photographer of historic architecture with a focus on forgotten buildings especially those facing demolition by neglect – and McCoy wear. Since I am also a gardener, one can never have too many pots for plants and McCoy made many styles of pots including those with attached saucers! And then, I also love a good mid to late 19th century simple wood chair...



All of these items are used in a myriad of ways and continue to function as they were meant to be used or in new ways. Each item has some personal memory for me or my family depending on whether it was something I found while on a walk along the beach, digging in the dump, or a shop in New Orleans or something that belonged to my grandmother, great-grandmother, or a great-great aunt. These pieces connect us to the past and connect us to family members who may not be with us any more – but they are with us each time you use that cup or look into that mirror, they are there and you think of them. The past and the people of the past continue to live on.


JNLF

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I’m sure you’ve seen it as you trek about the island – near the beaches and ponds. This image is of the swamp or marsh mallow that we have on Vestal Street in our garden out front of the Observatory. It can grow in drier places – though it’s not as lush as at Capaum Pond or out in Quaise. It’s in the Hibiscus family – and is fairly tropical looking and always a delight to see.  “When in bloom, one of the most showy plants of the Island, for a mass of the magnificent, large flowers on the edge of a blue pond causes one’s heart to thrill at the wealth of deep pink colour . . .” from Nantucket Wild Flowers, Alice O. Albertson (cousin of Maria Mitchell), 1921. JNLF
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I have always wanted to find a piece of a clay pipe. I know – weird – but if you have ever read any of my blogs here for the MMA then you know I have a thing for pottery shards. I sort of figured I would not find a piece of a clay pipe – not even a piece of a stem. But the other day, walking in a place where I have found quite a few shards, I found a piece of clay pipe! Now, I’m not talking about water pipes – I am talking about tobacco pipes. And I know very little about clay pipes. Yes, I am a curator of a historic house museum, but this family did not smoke. They were Quaker and among the many things they abstained from, tobacco was one of them. Therefore, I am not up on clay pipes so I am doing a bit more research.  For one, age can be determined by the width of the hole inside the pipe. So based on this one, I would say it’s fairly late. Since they were so fragile, and those holes pretty small, if it got filled with tobacco, the person just broke off the stem creating a shorter pipe and one that was not clogged with tobacco. Apparently, stems could be recycled – in fact, 15,000 broken stem pieces were uncovered at a historic walkway at Colonial Williamsburg – they were used as fill! And pipes were made into the early twentieth century – falling out of favor around World War One. It makes sense – they were cheap, easy to make, and affordable. Typically, one could last a few years – unless you dropped it of course. An,d pipes were used by men, women, and (eh, em) yes, children. I can see that Nantucket may not have had a lot of tobacco smoking residents – not just that some were Quaker – but because of the Quaker influence. I t does not mean people here do not smoke – I just think there may have been fewer smokers on the island in the nineteenth century and earlier. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger August 17, 2026
August 19 {1857}. There are four great men whose haunts I mean to seek, and on whose footsteps I mean to stand: Newton, Shakespeare, Milton, and Johnson. To-day I told the driver to take me to St. Martin’s, where the guide-book says that Newton lived. He put me down at the Newton Hotel, but I looked in vain to its top to see anything like an observatory. I went into a wine-shop near, and asked a girl, who was pouring out a dram, in which house Newton lived. She pointed, not to the hotel, but to the house next to a church, and said, “that’s it – don’t you see a place on the top? That’s where he used to study nights.” It is a little, oblong-shaped observatory, built apparently of wood, and blackened by age . . . .” Blackened no doubt by the wood ash and soot found in the air throughout over-crowded nineteenth century London. We always think about London being very foggy in the nineteenth century but frankly a lot of it was wood and coal ash as the nineteenth century grew older, particularly as factories developed and belched all of that into the air – think Sherlock Holmes in the 1880s. But Maria Mitchell, while starting in Europe as a young woman’s chaperone, also knew that this tour of Europe was a great learning experience – the equivalent of a college education she could not have. Doors were thrown open to her around Europe – in particular at all of the observatories that dotted the continent. She was not just well-known – she was famous. JNLF
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