Having collected modernist dinnerware for almost two decades now, it's rare that an item comes along to stir my soul and thrill me, like the old days. I just acquired a "Country Gardens" platter designed by Mary Wright in 1946 that did just that. At first blush, it's hard to grasp that something as simple as a platter could produce such a rush. Here, though, is a piece that shows Mary's great skill as both a homemaking guru and as a sculptor.
This is a practical piece. At each end of the 13" platter, the rim rolls into an ergonomic grip for the hostess. It is comfortable to hold in front of you as you carry it to the table. Moreover, the depth of the well guarantees that juices won't overflow and peas won't roll onto the table. Your presentation will be flawless.
Beyond these utilitarian concerns, though, the platter is a functional piece of art. Let's start with the glaze, a gorgeous, two-toned beige/brown. The darker hue peeks out in the ridges of the rim and the grips, and the lighter tone has a subtle mottling to it that doesn't show well in photographs. "Country Gardens" was legendarily a flop -- never making it out of sample production -- and it's probably because these glaze effects were both difficult to produce and under-appreciated by department store buyers at the time.
The form itself is brazenly sculptural for a houseware. Its undulating, organic shape reminds me of Mary's husband Russel's "Oceana" wooden ware. In profile, the platter has surprising peaks and valleys, reminiscent of undersea topography. It also has a surrealist flavor, like the molten clocks in a Dali dreamscape. Each view is different than the next. In many ways, this shape reminds me of the art pottery designs that Charles Murphy created for Red Wing nearly a decade later. Mary's dinnerware line may have been one of the Wrights' great commercial disappointments, but I adore it for its advanced and adventurous beauty.
