If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know that I have an elementary knowledge of books from the last century, especially those of Vincent Starrett. I feel pretty confident writing about Starrett’s work.

I have to admit that I’m wholly out of my depth when it comes to the black lacquer Chinese box that we’re going to talk about today. I’ll try to be as clear as possible when it comes to those things that are obvious (at least to me), those that are surmise and those I simply have no reference for discussing.

Let me also make this request: If you have expertise in this arena, can add or correct anything here, please get in touch with me at Studiesinstarrett@gmail.com. Many thanks.

Now on with the show.

Let’s start with what I know:

The box came into my possession hours before the 75th anniversary dinner of the Hounds of the Baskerville (sic) in 2017. Jennifer Wright, a member of Starrett’s extended family, was one of my guests at the dinner and surprised me by giving me the box. Family history says Starrett sent it back to the United States when he and his second wife, Rachel, were in China in the mid-1930s. The family had kept it since Starrett’s death, passing it down and then generously handing it to me. It was an incredible gift and I can’t thank her enough.

The image on the cover of the box is reproduced here. The box is roughly the size of a sheet of typing paper, 8.5 X 11 inches. I am guessing that there’s some symbolism to the imagery on the cover. What’s clear to even me is that this is a seaside scene, with a single figure in the lower left corner, and a second figure in the center of the lid. You can see the rest as clearly as I. It’s a handsome piece of art.

The four sides each add small items to the larger picture. There isn’t a lot of detail on the sides, and at least one has a splotch of white paint that isn’t original. Nonetheless, I’ll reproduce them here in case you would like to see them.

As awesome as the outside is, it’s the inside that is striking.

Let’s take a close look at the handsome interior, with that sunset red color on the inside of the box and on the matching board. As impressive as this is overall, it’s the inkwell cover that I’ve fallen in love with. Take a look at the detail in the the dragon on the top.

The dragon is breathtaking. Despite the years, it seems largely unchanged from the day it was set into place. There’s a bit of patina on the dragon tail under his chin, but except for some very old ink stains, it remains a handsome and impressive piece of the artist’s work. I’m guessing that the dragon lid was supposed to come off at one point, but it’s solidly fused in place now. I don’t know what I’m doing, and would hate to damage the piece trying to pry it open.

I have less to say about the pad, since I know so little about the artist’s process and how it would have been used. What I can say is that the pad’s surface is very smooth.

You can think of it as a kind of miniature swimming pool, with the deeper end at the top, and the base rising slowly until it’s almost even with at the bottom.

As you can see, it’s border is painted gold to match the gold border on the lid of the box.

Both the inkwell and the brush pool can easily be lifted out. The board that both pieces sit in also comes out of the box, with no distinguishing marks or images on the base of the box.

So that’s it for the box. I wish it could tell us more of its story: Where was it made and by whom? When and where was it purchased? Did Vincent or Ray ever fill up the inkwell and try their hands at using it as it was intended? So many questions. We will likely never know the answers, but it is pleasant to dream.

I have only a slight bit of additional information which might bear on the box, and that comes from a rare letter by Ray sent back to the United States to an old friend, Fridolf Johnson. (Don’t be confused by Ray addressing him as “Dear Lester.” Johnson’s first name was Lester, but he used Fridolf in his work, much as Starrett’s close friends and family called him Charlie, rather than Vincent.)

The paper is feathery light and splitting at the folds. The letter is undated, but I’m guessing it was sent at Christmas in 1936.

In the letter, Ray says she and Vincent are sending a brush holder to Fridolf.

The faint image that is printed on the paper shows the cylindrical holder, which is adorned with a dragon much like the one on the inkwell.

The relationship between the gift for Fridolph and the Starrett box is tangential, but it seems to me that the Starretts spent part of their time in China learning about the uses of brushes in writing and art. Both the gift to Fridolf and the box were mementos of their exploration and discoveries.

I am indebted to Baker Street Irregular Ira Matetsky for the letter, and to Irregulars Peggy Purdue and Terry Hunt for their observations, which have proven invaluable.

Again, if you have any thoughts about the box, please feel free to get in touch with me at StudiesinStarrett@gmail.com.

Be well.