The Flying Turkey

Let me just lay it all out on the table and fully admit that I am a product of my Mother. I come from a distinguished line of garage-sale junkies, antique-shop hounds, and collectors-cum-pack rats. My Grandmother, Aunt, and Mother all had (have) the knack to hone in on beautiful pieces at great prices and bring them home (much to the chagrin of their husbands). As a child I could recite their collections by name, like a mysterious code passed down from Mother to Daughter: Ironstone. Spatterware. Transferware. Blue Flow. Depression Glass. Salt Glaze. Cranberry Glass. Hobnail. Petalware.  I didn't necessarily know why they were named as such, but I understood that they were all beloved by generations of women in my family.

The passing of my Mother and Grandmother led to my acquisition of several sets of beautiful and unique dishes. While my pieces aren't perfect and worth a mint on eBay, they are special and important to me. Even chips, crazing, a poor transfer, or yellow residue from an ancient price tag don't matter; they're part of each collection's history and identity. And it certainly doesn't stop me from using them as often as I can!

I collect Ironstone, Spatterware, Salt Glaze, and Petalware, but my curiosity was piqued when my Aunt asked if I wanted a set of blue and white "Flow" dishes. She couldn't remember the name or the size of the collection, but I readily agreed. Some of my best childhood memories from my Grandma's house centered around her extensive Blue Willow collection, and I knew these dishes would have a similar look and feel. 

Opening up the large storage tote of dishes, I was pleasantly surprised. I came face to face with blue flow dishes of large birds intertwined with flowers and vines. Most of them had "Made in Japan", "Japan", or an "M" encircled by a wreath stamp on their base. I had no clue how old these dishes were, but I guessed that they were produced before the War. I went straight to my computer, and a few Google phrase searches later, I had solved the mystery. 

It turns out that the bird is a Phoenix, and that the pattern is more commonly known as "Flying Turkey". The Phoenix is a very common motif in Japanese and Chinese art, and the legend of the Phoenix is known the world over. Further research showed that my pieces do date from around 1920 to 1950. Before 1920 many Japanese porcelain producers used the name "Nippon" (Japan) in their stamps; therefore, "Japan" is a more contemporary mark. The M encircled by a wreath turned out to be a mark of Morimura Brothers, the predecessor to the now-famous Noritake brand. Because many production facilities were destroyed by the Allies during the War, and between 1945 and 1953 most porcelain was stamped with "Made in Occupied Japan", I'm confident that most of my collection dates before 1945. 

The dishes are now drying in my dish rack, awaiting their placement in the china cabinet. It's amazing to think I was able to uncover more information about these dishes in a few minutes via the internet than prior generations could in their lifetimes. These dishes are another connection to the past, and, more importantly, another connection to the women of my family. Now all I need to do is plan a tea party centered around this pretty addition to my cabinet....