For many, "modernism" and "minimalism" are synonyms. The mid-century aesthetic of simplicity bears with it an overwhelming predisposition for unadorned surfaces. This is particularly true in the dinnerware world. Eva Zeisel's "Museum White" is the paragon: sculptural forms in a glossy, creamy white, revealing the sculptural forms of the dinnerware in a pure, sublime way. It's hard to argue with Eva at her finest.
Pattern, when applied, only rarely meets with approval from modern-day modernists. Pattern is seen as a concession to mass-market tastes, a cheap gimmick to catch the eye of unsophisticated homemakers who really didn't deserve such well-designed china in the first place. Perhaps that is because only rarely did the dinnerware designer design the pattern. None of the patterns that Castleton China used to adorn the Museum shape were Eva's, though they did have the good sense to contract notable artists of the day. Hall China issued more than a dozen patterns for Zeisel's "Tomorrow's Classic," but only two ("Buckingham" and "Dawn") had input from Zeisel.
In our never-ending move to our new house, I have been packing and unpacking more dinnerware than I remembered having. When, I ask you, did I ever acquire three sets of Russel Wright's "Home Decorators" melmac (in three different patterns, of course)? I have a vivid memory of finding the huge set of "Gay Time" (aka "Bow Knot"), which was my first encounter with Wright's plastics. But the other two sets? I only have a dim recollection of thinking, "this would be fun for outdoor barbeques" and "how charming for a breakfast set."
But in handwashing vast quantities of melamine, I paid considerable attention to the way Wright applied pattern to these shapes. Each shape has a different treatment. Look at the example I have photographed above - the set with a turquoise ground and white and blue leaves and branches. The dinner plate has a bold branch across the middle; the salad plate, smaller swooping branches on the top and bottom; the saucer, the flourish of a single leaf. It makes each piece in a setting a little bit surprising. The tabletop becomes a visual playground.
Wright was quite elaborate in all of his patterns. From his first use of incised pattern with "White Clover" for Harker, through his applied pattern to the late run of Casual China for Iroquois, he distinguished each piece in the line with a distinctive variation on a theme. His meticulous designs reached their zenith with "Esquire" for Knowles, adding subtle gilding to several of the patterns. Of course, he achieved something truly unique with the "Ming Lace" pattern for the "Flair" line of melamine - embedding real, tinted leaves into the plastic. No two pieces are the same.
As I fastidiously towel-dried the melmac and tucked it away in the new house, I had a new appreciation for Wright's imaginative use of pattern. Would I rather have a complete set of "Residential" in the solid "Copper Penny" color (which has actual copper flakes in it)?
Hmm.
I'm not sure I understand the either/or proposition.