
Photo by Antoine Bootz courtesy Mottahedeh
Ceramics are the Pantone chips of centuries past. Textiles may fade. Paint pigments deteriorate and varnishes yellow, but enameled and glazed ceramics, be they porcelain or pottery, through the magic and mystery of the kiln really encapsulate the colors of history, to illustrate a vibrant past.
—Angelika Kuettner, curator of ceramics and glass, Colonial Williamsburg
In the 1920s, Mildred and Rafi Mottahedeh were unique among their peers, traveling the world to find fine porcelains, fabrics, furniture, brass and more for their business as wholesale antique dealers, says Wendy Kvalheim, CEO and co-owner of Mottahedeh porcelains.
“They would go to different parts of the world, and they would buy things that people wanted to sell them but didn’t consider very valuable because they were common things,” she says. “They started in the ’20s, and then during the Second World War, all these antiques dried up because the Germans were hiding them, taking them and hiding them. ... So, they had to come up with another way of doing their business. The factories were without work and half blown up around Europe, [the Mottahedehs] had one of the best porcelain collections around, and they just decided that they would start making reproductions at these factories.”
At the time, “it was really controversial; people thought it was a bastardization of the ... antiques. ... But because they had such an extensive background [in] porcelain in particular, [the reproductions] could be authentic, and the museums appreciated that. So that’s how they moved into working with museums,” says Kvalheim, who was in Williamsburg this September to introduce her new coffee table book, “Splendid Settings: 100 Years of Mottahedeh Design.”
Although it’s been more than three decades since Kvalheim took the helm at Mottahedeh, the family and their love for art and design have been part of her life as long as she can remember; her family had ties to the couple through their shared Bahá’i faith. “I received a legacy from Mildred Mottahedeh, who was not a ‘blood’ but a ‘spiritual’ relative. Knowing her since I was a child, she was my role model for a strong, intelligent woman who owned a business. … She gave me the idea to study the technical and artistic aspects of her craft and to put my skill to practice as a freelance artist and mold maker.”
Rather than recite a history of the company, in the book Kvalheim celebrates the art, people, museums and historic properties pivotal to its success, sharing thoughts from key partners including Colonial Williamsburg and Mount Vernon, designers, and collectors, along with an intimate look at her own private world. Lavish photography throughout the book illustrates the origin stories of many of Mottahedeh’s most popular porcelain patterns, including Historic Charleston’s Blue Canton, Colonial Williamsburg’s Duke of Gloucester, the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Tobacco Leaf, designer Tony Duquette’s Barriera Corallina and more. It also takes you into the homes of collectors, including well-known author and editor Suzanne Slesin, to explore the versatility and depth of the Mottahedeh porcelains they collect.
As always, “our intention is to retain the quality that made the original so special that it has withstood the test of time and is appreciated today as it was centuries ago,” Kvalheim says. “This search is the pursuit of beauty. ‘Make Thy beauty to be my food,’ as said in the Baha’i writings.”