For the Birds

For the Birds

Why some little birds make us look twice.

You see a little porcelain bird. You know it's a chickadee. And the curious thing is, you have absolutely no idea why you know it's a chickadee. Birdwatching has never been your thing.

Yet somehow, you recognize it.

Goebel CV 72 porcelain sparrow, upward-looking, side profile, 1960's West Germany

Plenty of decorative birds are perfectly capable of filling an empty space. This one makes you look twice. Chef's kiss.

 

Perhaps it's the little black cap, the round body or that unmistakable attitude. Somehow, the sculptor captured something you recognize instinctively, even if you couldn't begin to describe it.

Pick it up and turn it toward the light. Notice the subtle variations in its hand-painted feathers, the tilt of its head and the way its body has been sculpted. Move it from a bookshelf to a windowsill, and it seems to take on a slightly different personality.

It almost feels alive.

Goebel CV 74 porcelain sparrow, downward-looking, head tilted, 1970s West Germany

That little bird is a Goebel.

The German porcelain company has been making decorative objects since 1871. You might recognize the name from Hummel figurines, those rosy-cheeked children that once seemed to live in everyone's grandmother's house.

Hummel means bumblebee in German. Beginning in 1950, a little bee appeared in Goebel's trademark. Turn over an older bird and you might find one tucked into the maker's mark. You might also discover "W. Germany" stamped underneath, a reminder that your bird was made when Germany was still divided.

Goebel CV 72 base, blue Stylized Bee mark, West Germany

Then turn the bird right side up again.

 

Truthfully, I'm not sure it's a chickadee. Image search says chickadee. Most sellers call it a sparrow. The bird doesn't seem to mind. Someone had to sculpt it, not simply reproduce its feathers, but capture the posture and personality that make you recognize it. Even two little songbirds sitting together can have entirely different expressions.

Pair of Goebel porcelain sparrows, CV 72 and CV 74, West Germany, facing each other.

And then there's the white cardinal. Without colorful feathers to catch your eye, its sculpted form and texture do all the work. 

Goebel CV 111 white bisque porcelain cardinal, 1970's West Germany

These birds weren't made for museums or grand estates. They were made for everyday homes, at a time when even an ordinary decorative object could involve considerable work by human hands.

 

They weren't particularly rare or especially fussy, just well-made things intended to be enjoyed.

Not everything worth keeping needs to be rare. 

Sometimes, it just needs to be made well and make us smile. 

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