(Okay, perhaps that’s even ultra-modern.) But that discussion got me thinking about my favorite ornaments and decorations from my childhood, some of which I still have and use. I realized that there’s a certain simplicity in those older designs that’s lost in today’s well-crafted models. No less mass-manufactured than today’s ornaments, the ones from my childhood (the ‘60s and early ‘70s, just for reference), were representations of basic Christmas elements, such as Santa, snowmen, reindeer, and of course the Nativity. These elements are of course seen in modern decorations as well, but they’re often over-stylized or, if I may, overly cutesy. Further, today’s “Christmas” ornaments are very likely to be something from entertainment or pop culture (as the photo of the U.S.S. Reliant above attests), related to Christmas only in their packaging and seasonal arrival on the shelves.
Too Much of a Good Thing, Literally
Here’s an example of the “bland ceramic” school of Christmas ornamentation: an middle-aged couple seated on a park bench; just to the right is a vignette of a deer and fawn drinking in a woodland stream.
Now, neither one is particularly bland; in fact the seated couple is reasonably well-painted, and the bench is designed quite nicely. To be honest, I own many such “Christmas village“ decorations. However, as I was preparing this article, I realized that, around Christmastime, such figurines are the very definition of ubiquitous. You can find these all over the place. I’ve seen them at Dollar Tree, Walgreens, K-mart, Ace Hardware and Lowes. If you want to create a Victorian- or Dickensian-era Christmas village (with the occasional anachronistic ‘40s/’50s-era pickup or family sedan), you have an abundance of choices among figures, buildings and accessories.
It is this ready supply of such decorations that is the problem. It’s as if there were no other era in history during which Christmas was celebrated. The manufacturers of the “Christmas village” items continue to bring out new little people doing different little things each year, which can make for a richly-detailed village layout, but it’s done at the expense of Christmas itself. Many of the figures and accessories are not so much “Christmasy” as they are “wintery”. Further, more and more seem to be simply “person doing a particular task”. For example, two of the shops available at K-mart this year were a bookstore and an art studio, with separate “matching” figures and accessories. They were, respectively, a man examining books on a bookshelf, and a woman gazing at a painting on an easel. By the way, these are designed to be seen, thus they stand outside the shops, as if it’s a Victorian sidewalk sale. While the buildings may have detail to represent snow or even colored lights, these two characters have nothing to do with the holiday beyond being “dressed warmly”. (Another such example, which I own (and like), is a “hayride”, a horse-drawn wagon with several kids playing among the piles of hay in the wagon. Very attractive, but it’s not strictly a Christmas image. In fact, it could be seen as a Fall item, rather than Winter, and could serve for Thanksgiving as well as Christmas.)
As I said, I do own many “Christmas village” figurines and buildings, and I will hang on to certain ones for several more years. However, very many of them have lost their cuteness over time, simply due to the fact that I’ve realized that quaint does not equal Christmas. The large vignette of a woman hailing a ride from a Hansom cab, while attractively sculpted, does not explicitly represent Christmas. It really caught my eyes when I first bought it several years ago, but now I can easily give it away without regret, and in fact would appreciate not having it packed away and taking up space for eleven months out of the year.
Just One Word: Plastics
Full disclosure: As with the ceramic “Christmas village” items above, I own a large number of modern, highly-detailed and/or highly-stylized ornaments and decorations made of high-impact plastic. Each in its turn was sufficiently cool, wicked, awesome or oh-so-darn cute as to warrant purchase. Over time, many have lost my interest because they either don’t represent Christmas, or don’t represent it well enough. (Note to those who are drooling in anticipation: No, I will not be getting rid of my Hallmark Star Trek ship ornaments; they totally rock.)
Here’s a typical Hallmark item -- or maybe American Greetings or Enesco -- that represents the modern detailed plastic ornament. Nicely crafted, lots of detail, and certainly eye-catchingly colorful. There are various textures: the man’s beard, the woman’s hair, and the boughs of the trees. Texturing along the side of the sleigh is actually a series of embossed snowflakes. If you look closely, you can even see individual “pages” of the book upon which the sleigh rests. (Also, the “cover” of the book has debossed holly leaves which are stained to give the look of a fabric covering.)
Clearly this ornament at least actually represents Christmas. Further, the “cover” of the book says Jingle Bells. So here we not only have a literal Christmas connection; there’s also an element of Christmas fantasy, as the “one-horse open sleigh” rises up out of the pages.
Yet, as I look at this item, there’s a certain lack of liveliness to it, despite the “action pose” of the horse. There’s a dullness to the colors. The man’s hands, though fully sculpted with distinct fingers and thumbs, aren’t even designed to hold the reigns. (Maybe his hands are frozen, and all he can do is press the reigns against his lap?) Finally, while the woman’s face is sculpted with a pleasant-enough appearance, the man looks like a Tellarite from the old Star Trek series.
Therein lies the problem with the modern plastic Christmas ornament: For all its rich detail and often vibrant colors, there’s a lifelessness, a coldness in the modern ornament that belies the intended festive spirit of the design. Better designed -- dare I say better engineered? -- than the ornaments from my youth, and certainly made with higher-quality materials; yet it’s the simplicity -- dare I suggest cheapness? -- of those older ornaments that make them so endearing.
By the way, I’m keeping the sleigh ornament above. It’s dated 1999, so this is its 10-year anniversary. Also, turns out it’s not from any of the companies I mentioned above -- an eye loupe revealed that it’s Eckerd branded. So, I’m keeping it because it’s also a reminder of an element lost from the fabric of Americana.
Ring in the Old
The biggest problem with the old ornaments is of course survivability. Aside from normal wear and tear, as well as the occasional accident, some of the older materials simply don’t age well. Here’s one that’s several decades old.
Santa himself doesn’t look too bad; aside from worn, faded paint, he’s in good physical shape, and has reasonable detail. But look at the jumbled white mess to his lower left. That’s all that’s left of his sleigh. It was an attractive design, looking as if it were made of lace. It’s simply a soft plastic, or maybe an early vinyl, and was simply a flat piece that was folded up into an open-face box. I had an idea of flattening out the sleigh and gluing it to some clear plastic sheeting of some sort to provide support, then scoring the sheeting so I could fold the sleigh back into shape. However, when I took it out of storage this year and tried to adjust the sleigh on the tree, an entire side came of in my hand. Santa is still reusable, but after the decorations are taken down I’ll have to separate the sleigh from him and just throw it away.
Since I’ve rediscovered the simple joy inherent in the older ornaments, I’ve been collecting them -- or perhaps rescuing them -- from garage sales, thrift stores and the like. However, having gone crazy with various collections over the years, I‘ve learned my lesson. Thus, I do not buy an old Christmas ornament simply because it‘s old. It has to be in decent shape, reasonably priced and, most importantly, have that indefinable something that gives it the right “retro” or “classic” feel I’m looking for. At a church White Elephant sale a couple of years ago I found two such ornaments. Here’s the blue one, employed on my tree:
A simple yet very effective Christmas cameo.
So what goes into the making of such an ornament? It starts with a simple geometric shell. The front half is colored translucent plastic, with cutouts. The back half has a vacuum-metallized coating similar in color to the front half, with a debossed star detail.
At least, I think it’s vacuum-metallized. Such a coating tends to fade or even peel over time, yet this one is still in very good condition. So, maybe it’s a different process.
The cameo is a marvel of simplicity. A simple, nearly flat representation of a deer, with two pieces of foliage which represent pine are attached to a post jutting forward from the interior of the back section. Hmm… That interior is still really, really reflective. I’m suspecting that’s a higher-grade process than vacuum metallization.
Here’s a close-up of the deer. As you can see, it’s barely more than a silhouette, yet it does the trick very nicely.
And here’s the ornament, reassembled. Only five simple pieces, of modest materials. Yet all together they make what is in my opinion an incredibly attractive, and very Christmasy, traditional ornament. Yes, I have many very modern Christmas ornaments, and yes, I’ll be keeping many of those many for, um, many years. But I will also continue to appreciate -- and gather, as I can -- the classic and retro ornaments that seem to do a much better job of making spirits bright. I hope to revisit this subject in future posts. But for now, let me wish you a happy and healthy 2010, and may Yeshua bless you and yours mightily this year. And to my fellow collectors -- Happy Hunting!
No comments:
Post a Comment