Aesop’s Fables have long been an inspiration for carvers and “The Fox and the Grapes” can be found carved on furniture, frames and decorative panels. It offers the carver the opportunity to carve round grapes, grape leaves moving in a breeze, knotty trees and a fox with a bushy tail. In this example, on an 18th-century Philadelphia high chest, foliate swirls curl around the scene creating a frame.
The High Chest of Drawers & Dressing Table
The Philadelphia Museum of Art had the high chest of drawers in their collection from 1957, but the museum did not know of the dressing table until years later. The set is dated 1765-1775 and the maker is unknown. The chest would have been used to store textiles and the dressing table would likely be used in a ladies bedroom. The notes for the set identify the work as American because “the raised space underneath the high chest distinguishes it as a confection of North America since the British had abandoned that design by the 1730s.”
The high chest is certainly a bonbon of woodwork with an abundance of ornamentation from the carved urn at the top, a cascade of blooms along the front rails down to the claw and ball feet.
Dimensions of the high chest are: 8 ft.-3/4 in. x 46-1/2 in. x 25-3/4 in. (245.7 x 118.1 x 65.4 cm). Dressing table dimmensions are: 29-7/8 in. x 35 in. x 23-1/4 in. (79.9 x 88.9 x 59.1 cm).
Both pieces are made of mahogany, tulip poplar, white cedar and yellow pine. The drawer pulls and keyhole escutcheons are brass.
Why That Carving on This Chest and Dressing Table?
The museum notes, “Aesop’s moralistic tales were the only fiction Quakers were allowed to read.” The tale of “The Fox and the Grapes” features a fox trying its best to reach grapes hanging high above, but he cannot reach them. In William Caxton’s book, the disappoined fox turns away and complains the grapes are probably as sour as crabs. He dismisses what he can’t have. The high chest and the dressing table are the opposite: an expression of wanting, and having, it all. The two pieces were made with mahogany brought from the Caribbean and a skilled cabinetmaker and carvers put in long hours to complete the work. Each extra detail added to the expense of the set.
It was common to include designs inspired by the natural world on 18th-century furniture. The museum has similar profusely-ornamented high chests in their collection, with lower central panels carved with large scallop shells. A carved panel with a lesson is different. There is a dissonance between the carved panel and the luxury on display on each piece of the set. Was the person who commissioned the set sending a message to the recipient, as in, be thankful for what you have?
Who Was the Carver?
The fox and grapes panel sits above an elaborately-carved cartouche. Although the maker of the chest is unknown, it is thought the panel and cartouche were done by Martin Jugiez. A much-needed conservation and restoration of the high chest began in 2007.
Christopher Storb, then conservator for furniture and woodwork at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, wrote an article about the restoration of the high chest for the Spring 2008 issue of Antiques & Fine Art magazine. His article includes background information on Martin Jugiez and some surprising details concerning the cartouche. You can find the article here.
The gallery below shows a few more views of the high chest and dressing table. The last photo, from the article in Antiques & Fine Art magazine, shows the carved panel during restoration.
–Suzanne Ellison
How did you ever come across this dusty, over 15 years old article? Time flies, it is almost 20 years since I began the study of the high chest prior to its conservation.
A correction and a note: The Philadelphia Museum of Art, and everyone else in the trade, knew of the existence of the dressing table when it was first published in 1935 in William Macpherson Hornor, Jr.’s “Blue Book Philadelphia Furniture William Penn to George Washington.” It was owned at that time by Miss Eliza Davids. As with many of the objects illustrated in Hornor’s book, it was purchased sometime in the following years by the American antique dealer Joe Kindig Jr. of York, Pennsylvania.
As I say in the article, the high chest was first loaned to the museum by at least 1924. The museum followed the ownership of the dressing table since 1935 and the dressing table was on loan to the museum since 1976. It was ultimately purchased by the museum from the Kindig family in 2012.
Note: Since the publication of the article, more information about the carving partnership of (Claude) Nicholas Bernard and Martin Jugiez has come to light. An apprenticeship document was found in the French National Archives for a Martin Jugeiz dated 1741. At 11 years old Jugeiz was apprenticed to François Germain Suppligeaux, master sculptor, for 5 years. Whether this is the Jugiez who immigrated to Philadelphia is hard to know with certainty, but the name, trade, and dates match up. That his partner had a manifestly French name adds weight to this possibility.
Happy Holidays,
Chris
Chris, thank you for the clarification and notes! It was a nice surprise to see your name come through in the comments. The additional information on Martin Jugiez is fascinating. Now I really want to read more about him. As for finding your old article (anything over 5 years is now old), you know as well as I do that if you look long enough something will turn up.
What’s interesting about the carving is that looks like the fox easily reaches, and is actively eating, the grapes. I wonder if there’s some kind of message there that the person who commissioned this piece has attained their goals and is outwardly showing the world their “mastery,” or some such nonsense. I think it would line up with the general ornate style of the work.
I can see your point. We can never know the full intentions of the person commissioning a work or the craftsman. I do think the decorative flourishes limited the area available to depict the fox straining to reach the grapes. The fox can touch a grape, but not eat it. That would certainly cause sour grapes, so to speak.
“Catch the little foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vine” is a reference from the Song of Solomon in the Bible (ch 2, v 15). This book is about love and relationships, so my take on the meaning is “resolve the small issues before they become big ones.”
If the high chest and dressing table were made for a woman, one to hold textiles and the other to hold a lady’s combs and such, than the Song of Solomon verse would make more sense, at least to me. It would solve the disconnect I see between the expensive and lavishly ornamented furniture and the moral of the fable. It may be the carved image of a fox reaching for grapes was automatically assumed to be from Aesop’s Fables. Thanks Don for bringing this forward.