The Most Beautiful Pottery Ever Appraised on Antiques Roadshow!

I went to one of my favorite shops in Frederick, Maryland, and the intent was to find some natural elements to decorate a house that we are going to be building soon. And I saw this on the shelf, I saw the beautiful little deer on it, so I picked it up and to see how much it was, it was only $25. When did that happen? It had to have been in February, I believe, of this year. Remarkable find. Oh, thank you. Unaware that it was the work of none other than Charles Loloma, one of the most innovative Hopi artists of the 20th century. Created in 1949, not long after Loloma returned from military service, this piece reflects both tradition and experimentation. While Hopi pottery was historically hand-coiled, Loloma explored the potter's wheel and introduced new textures, carving symbols like deer, sun faces, dust devils, and rain, all rooted deeply in Hopi culture. Even the striking blue interior speaks to a distinctly Hopi aesthetic. The signature and date carved into the clay confirm its authenticity. What makes it even more remarkable is its rarity. Loloma only produced pottery for a brief period before shifting his artistic focus to silverwork and jewelry, which would later make him internationally famous. Surviving examples of his early ceramic work are scarce, described by appraisers as like finding hen's teeth. If you were just offered at auction, I would expect you to see between $7,500 and $9,000 for it. Oh, my gosh. That's amazing. It is amazing. I wasn't expecting that. And congratulations on your good eye. Wow. Who knew? Well, thankfully, we knew. This was given to me by my father. He got it from his father, who was an antiques collector. I got it in 1993. It was appraised at that time at $200. $200, okay. I was told that it is a John Bell butter tub, and that's all I know about it. Bell was born in Hagerstown, Maryland, before settling in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, where he carried on the German pottery traditions he learned from his father. Working from the 1830s until his death in 1880, he became known for turning everyday objects into enduring works of craftsmanship. This tub, made in the mid-1800s, was not created as a collectible or heirloom. Its purpose was purely functional, holding great lumps of freshly churned butter at a time when dairy came straight from the farm. The tortoiseshell-style Rockingham glaze gave it a touch of beauty, but it was still meant to be used and eventually discarded. Few survived intact. And that's what makes this piece extraordinary. Not only is it in remarkable condition, but it also carries Bell's name, a detail that transforms it from common kitchenware into a highly prized artifact of American folk pottery. If this were to be sold at auction, it would probably sell for between $3,000 and $5,000. Oh my, I did not expect that. Wow, I'm shocked. We did find an auction record for a nearly identical one with a little different colors that actually sold for $6,000. Wow. I'm from New York City. I came down on the bus. Just to come to Antiques Roadshow? Just to come to Antiques Roadshow. It wasn't easy, but I got here. I love what you bought us. And how did you come about it? I got it as a gift. One of my neighbors that I befriended, I assisted him going to the store, cooking him dinner. That's how I got it. When we see something, this quality, this kind of combination of colors, this scale, this type of glaze, it looks like the work of two brothers who were potters in a place called Nancy in France, called Mougin. The Mougin brothers began their pottery career around 1900, producing Art Nouveau designs, flowing, organic forms full of soft curves and natural motifs. But as styles shifted in the 1920s, they evolved with the times, moving toward the sleek geometry and bold patterns of Art Deco. This vase embodies that transformation perfectly, dating to around 1930, its decoration bursts with exotic inspiration. The bold green foliage and striking blue fruits don't belong to the French countryside, but instead reflect the colonial fascination of the era. In 1931, Paris hosted the Exposition Coloniale, showcasing the animals, plants, and artistry of lands far from Europe. French designers eagerly wove these motifs into their own work, and the Mougin captured that spirit in clay. Crafted through slip casting rather than wheel-thrown pottery, the vase gleams with carefully layered glazes, rich metallic greens, warm browns, and luminous blues, creating a lush tropical effect. Its scale, condition, and artistry make it a striking survivor of early 20th century French design. We put it in an auction. It's going to bring somewhere between, one of my colleagues said, between $1,000 and $2,000. I'm going to say a good estimate at auction would be between $1,200 and $1,600. Wow. That's good. That's good for a gift. That's a nice gift you got right there. Now it's worth that largely because it's perfect. Some antiques aren't just beautiful, they're statements of ambition. That's exactly what this towering vase from the Trenton Potteries represented when it was unveiled at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis. I bought this from a dealer years ago before the internet. It had no mark on it, so nobody knew exactly what it was. I just thought it was beautiful. And so as time went on, I noticed an article in the Antique Trader. They mentioned these monumental vases made for the 1904 Louisiana Purchase World Fair. So I contacted the museum, sent them a picture, and they said it was one of the vases that had been lost or gone. At the turn of the 20th century, American ceramics were largely practical. Sinks, bathtubs, and sturdy kitchenware. The finest decorative pottery still came from Europe. Limoges in France, Minton in England, porcelain from Germany. But Trenton's Potteries wanted to prove that American craftsmanship could rival the old world. So they joined forces, hired an artistic director named William H. Wigley, and produced a handful of monumental vases that could stand beside Europe's finest. This particular piece, known as the Rose Vase, is signed by Wigley himself. Its hand-painted blossoms, gilded borders, and rich continental style evoke the grandeur of French and Bavarian porcelain. But it was born in New Jersey. An act of pure American optimism. The scale alone was remarkable for the time. And seeing it gleam beneath the fair's lights must have been a revelation for visitors. I think a fair retail price would be $25,000 today. I'm very, very happy with that. And I hope everyone will love it, that sees it, and everything's coming up roses. Ha ha ha. Well, my husband bought it in 2009 online. And we bought it for the glaze. We love the glaze on it. On the bottom, it says that it's Grand Fou, and it has a number. And what did you pay for this? $1,500. Some of the rarest treasures in American pottery history come not from centuries-old traditions, but from short-lived experiments that burned brightly and disappeared almost overnight. That's the case with this dazzling Grand Fou ceramic vase, born in California around 1914. At the turn of the 20th century, California's clay deposits were discovered to be among the finest in America. This sparked a wave of art potteries determined to rival the best of Europe. Grand Fou pottery, named after the French phrase for high fire, was one of the boldest, though its existence was fleeting. From roughly 1912 to 1916, they produced pieces that pushed the boundaries of glaze artistry, creating effects that seemed alive with color and light. This vase embodies the height of their achievement. The glaze is known as the sunray glaze, a flambe of cascading browns and reds flowing into a radiant cobalt blue base. What makes this example extraordinary is the balance. Instead of the cobalt being swallowed by darker tones, it shines through in brilliant contrast, feathered with iridescent drips that look as if the fire of the kiln painted them in motion. It's a living surface, a harmony of accident and intention, and one of the rarest glaze effects ever perfected on American soil. That's his very well-marked Grand Fou pottery in LA, California. It's actually just outside of LA this was made. And the company was run by Brockman, also a mystery. I'm not really sure where he came from or where he went after he was done. He had this brief moment, made some beautiful pots, and then disappeared. Today, only a handful of these sunray-glazed pieces exist, the best of them preserved in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. At auction, I would estimate this for $10,000 to $15,000 on today's market. Yeah, and it could well bring more because it's really that good. This is a beautiful piece to look at whenever you're feeling a little bit down or blue. You look at this and it changes everything. And then you feel cobalt blue. Yes, yes. My wife's grandmother lived next door to an elderly couple in Romania. And they received these as a wedding gift. And then, unfortunately, during the communist times, of course, she had a two-bedroom apartment. They actually took the apartment from her and she had to sell off all her goods. And she gave this to my wife's grandmother, who then gave it to my wife's mom. And when they came to America in 1990, she brought it with her. And then once we got married, she gave it to us. We really don't know much about it. Sometimes the most valuable treasures spend decades hiding in plain sight, used as everyday objects. That was the case with this extraordinary Zolnay Eosinvas and bowl, pieces of Hungarian artistry that once held car keys in a Brooklyn apartment. Their story stretches back far further. Zolnay, founded in Hungary in the mid-19th century, began as a factory producing utilitarian wares. But Vilmos had a vision. He wanted to rival Vienna and Paris with decorative art pottery that could rival glass itself. By the 1890s, he had perfected something astonishing, the Eosin glaze. Named for Eos, the goddess of dawn, it shimmered with iridescent light, as though sunrise had been captured in clay. These particular examples, adorned with apple trees, pine motifs, and wave patterns borrowed from Japanese design, reflect the global influences that inspired Zolnay's Art Nouveau era. They even echoed Tiffany Studios' fascination with glass-like surfaces. Except these glazes were pottery, mastered through a delicate reduction firing process. The effect is breathtaking, a metallic rainbow sheen that shifts with the light. Both pieces bear Zolnay's historic marks, dating them to around 1900 during the company's peak. While one has suffered cracks and restorations, the rarity and size still make it highly desirable. A bowl like this was sold at auction within the last five years for $16,000, probably plus premium. So at auction today, probably $12,000 to $16,000, something like that. In this condition, still at auction, most likely $10,000 to $15,000. Perfect condition, maybe $20,000 because it is very large and super rare. Okay, wow. That's unbelievable. I'm impressed and shocked. That's awesome. Thank you. Two vases, two completely different personalities, yet both tied to one of Europe's most innovative potteries. These pieces were made by Zolnay of Pecs, Hungary, a company founded in 1853 that rose to international fame by the late 19th century for its experimental glazes and bold eclectic designs. I inherited both vases from my parents. My father was born in Hungary. He and his family were forced to leave because of the Nazis. They weren't practicing, but they were all of Jewish descent. The blue vase is unlike almost anything Zolnay collectors have seen. Its surface shimmers with a crystalline glaze, a technique popular in France at the time, where crystals would bloom across the ceramic under high heat. The rim is edged with raised gilding, an expensive, intricate finish, and even carries a touch of Egyptian revival influence, reflecting the cosmopolitan taste of the 1890s. This vase is dated by its impressed number to between 1898 and 1900, making it one of Zolnay's earliest forays into such daring European-inspired styles. The red vase, however, its decoration draws from Islamic and English influences, yet remains distinctly Hungarian in its rich, glowing glaze and exotic pattern. Its impressed number suggests it was made between 1891 and 1895, right as Zolnay perfected the colorful Art Nouveau-inspired look that collectors now associate with the firm. Though different in design, both vases trace the journey of Hungarian artistry at a time when Budapest and Pecs stood at the crossroads of Europe. A retail price on this one might be in the $2,000 to $3,000 range. The red one, however, is almost classic Zolnay design. It's really what collectors are looking for. That one would retail for somewhere between $3,000 and $5,000. So together, we're looking at between $5,000 and $8,000. Wow, that exceeds my expectations greatly. It is a true connection to my Hungarian ancestors. It's a life that's gone forever. I brought three pieces of pottery. I remember them from my early days growing up in Cleveland, Ohio. And after my parents passed away, my siblings and I divided up the pottery, and we each got at least one moon pot, which I think is this form. And then I liked this bowl in the middle, and I just thought it went with it, and so I took it. Few artists blurred the line between craft and fine art as brilliantly as Toshiko Takezu. And this trio of ceramics captures her vision at its most expressive. The first piece is one of her iconic moon pots, rounded, enclosed forms that she considered deeply spiritual. For Takezu, these vessels represented a contained universe, a balance of the outer world and the inner self. Their spherical stillness became her signature, not only as pottery, but as sculpture and philosophy combined. Here has a more typical mark, which is the TT incised into the bottom. The second moon pot, though unsigned, bears all the hallmarks of her clay, glaze, and finish, leaving no doubt of its authenticity. And the final piece, a wide, expressive bowl, may not be what collectors most expect from her, but it demonstrates her gift as an abstract expressionist, turning a ceramic surface into a painter's canvas, blending colors with raw energy and harmony. Born in Hawaii to Japanese immigrant parents, Toshiko studied at Cranbrook under Mija Grotel, taught for decades at Princeton, and earned recognition not just as a potter, but as a woman of color breaking boundaries in American art. By the late 1960s and 70s, her work had become central to redefining ceramics as more than utilitarian craft. It was art equal to painting or sculpture. Values have risen sharply in recent years as museums and collectors recognize her importance. Auctions were selling Toshiko pieces like this one four years ago. This would be estimated for maybe $2,500 to $3,500. Now, this is $6,000 to $9,000, $7,000 to $10,000 at auction. This pot here, even without a mark, I would have estimated this four or five years ago for $1,500 to $2,000. It's now a $4,000 to $6,000 piece. And this bowl, normally bowls this size are in the $1,000 to $1,500 range. Conservatively, either $2,500 to $3,500, maybe $3,000 to $4,000, but I wouldn't be surprised if at auction that brought $5,000. It's just such a very good example. The three of them together are a beautiful presentation of all aspects of Toshiko's work. Thank you. My grandmother worked for the SEGs, the Saturday Evening Girls. That was a group of young immigrant women, and she was one of them. She immigrated from Lithuania when she was about 10 at the turn of the century. And she had these pots and many, many others that I have at home. And this is her right here? Yes, it is. That's right in front of the pottery that moved from the North End to Brighton. Known as the Saturday Evening Girls, this group of young women, many from Jewish and Italian immigrant families, gathered at first to study literature and practice English. But by 1908, their circle gave rise to the Paul Revere Pottery, a progressive workplace that combined education, artistry, and a chance for dignity in labor. These two vases date to around 1925 to 1930, a time when the pottery was shifting its style to meet changing tastes. Traditionally, Paul Revere pieces are recognized for their hand-decorated landscapes, flowers, or whimsical motifs. But these vases are strikingly different. One recalls the romantic designs of England's pre-Raphaelites. The other leans toward the sleek modernism seen in Germany and Belgium between the wars. Their bold green and black glazes are unmistakably Paul Revere. Yet their forms show how even this socially-driven workshop adapted to international trends to stay alive in the marketplace. Originally priced at $75 each, a significant sum for working-class women in the 1920s, these were not just decorative objects, but symbols of progress, of women carving a place for themselves in American culture. So in terms of value, vases in and of themselves are difficult enough to find. To find them decorated like this, this is unprecedented. So I would say at auction, I would estimate this piece for between $5,000 and $7,000. And I think also at auction, I would have to say the same, $5,000 to $7,000. It's not what people look for, but if this had a landscape design going around it, which is what they're known for, this would be maybe a six-figure piece. Well, that's great. That's amazing. These are things I just played with, so put dried flowers in them. So that's wonderful. Thank you. My mom and dad bought these in either the late 60s or early 70s. And she told me they paid about $700 back then that she thought was expensive. That was a lot of money. It was a lot of money. And I asked her, what exactly are they used for? And like most in her generation said, oh, they're just to look pretty. No, you don't want to put anything on them. So they sat and looked pretty dusty rather than pretty. Right, right. These stands were crafted by the Meissen Porcelain Factory near Dresden, Germany, Europe's very first and perhaps most prestigious hard-paste porcelain manufacturer, founded in the early 18th century. Their hallmark, the famous crossed swords, is one of the most recognizable maker's marks in the world of ceramics. The tiny dots at the ends of the swords help date these pieces. After 1850, but before 1924, putting them squarely in the late 19th century. The design, known as Blue Onion, is one of Meissen's most enduring patterns. First created in 1739, the stylized floral motifs, meant to resemble pomegranates, peaches, and bamboo, though Europeans mistook them for onions, became a symbol of elegance on both sides of the Atlantic. These dessert stands were meant to hold small cakes or pastries at the center of a dining table, adding refinement to the ritual of entertaining. So what are they worth? Well, actually, there's a lot of this out there. But I would say a retail price on these days would probably be around $1,000 to $2,000 for the pair. Okay, great. So they're fine. Well, I know what to use them for. I found it in an antique shop right here in West Des Moines. The lady had just unwrapped it. I thought, wow. And I purchased it at that time. That's been about 25 years ago, maybe 30. And what'd you pay for it? I think around $100 to $150 or something like that. At first glance, it looks like ordinary spongeware, the kind of everyday earthenware used in kitchens across America. But the bold lettering across the top, Ottumwa, July 27, 1910, immediately reveals a story far larger than a kitchen table. This was no mere household jug. It was created as a commemorative piece for the Democratic State Convention of 1910, held in Ottumwa, Iowa. The pitcher welcomes delegates with a lucky horseshoe, carefully stenciled and spattered in vivid blue. But the real reveal is on the reverse side, a proudly painted donkey, the enduring emblem of the Democratic Party. That simple folk art flourish transforms what would have been a $200 utilitarian pot into a powerful piece of political Americana. The craftsmanship is remarkable. The sponge-spattered glaze creates a vibrant ground, while hand-brushed details on the donkey and horseshoe give it character. It speaks to both artistry and history. One part pottery, one part campaign badge. But as with many large stoneware pieces, the handle hides hairline cracks, a reminder never to lift such heavy vessels by the handle alone. If this pitcher bore no decoration, it might fetch a few hundred dollars. But with its historic inscription, political imagery, and unique survival, it commands far more. With the history and the decoration, and it's beautifully done, beautifully crafted, I would say, no problem, $3,000 to $4,000 retail. That's good. My wife, she's in the Democratic Party, Okay, where does it sit in your house? It sits in the living room. Okay. And she says, you're not selling that. This is a really colorful, interesting vase. Tell me about it. Sunday, which was Mother's Day, my daughter gave it to me. And it came from her husband's grandmother's grandmother. Okay. And came down through the family. That's all I know. I don't know anything else about it. And so what did your family think about it? My granddaughter wanted to make mud pies in it, but... Oh, well, sounds fun to me. Do you like it? Were you happy with it? No, it's ugly. It's ugly. Okay, why do you say that? It looks cheap. That's a perfectly fair thing to say. The vessel itself is humble, a mass-produced 19th century pottery blank. But what transforms it into something remarkable is the hand-painted decoration and the poetic inscription. Delicate wild roses, butterflies, a bumblebee and a dragonfly swirl across its surface, painted with surprising vibrancy. The lines of the poem read, O cup of the wild rose curved close to hold odorous ado, what thought do you hide in your heart? Oh, would that I knew. Beneath the lines is a name, Celia Thaxter, 1880. Celia Thaxter was no ordinary amateur decorator. She was one of the most celebrated American poets of her day, a woman whose circle included Emerson, Thoreau and Longfellow. Raised along the rugged New England coast, she became famous for her nature-inspired verse and her vivid paintings on pottery and porcelain, placing her firmly in the early arts and crafts movement. This piece combines her two great talents, poetry and painting, making it rarer than her typical floral ceramics. Few of her known works include original verse and fewer still survive with this level of detail. I think a retail price would probably be somewhere in the $3,000 to $5,000 range. It's not so ugly anymore. Yeah, well, you know, you still don't have to like it. It can grow on you. It could bring more than that. Wow, I never would have thought. Who would have thought? This ugly vase. My grandfather had seven sisters and one of them was a fairly renowned antiques dealer in Joplin, Missouri. Visited her house one time and was just jammed with stuff. So she gave this set to my mother and it was a wedding present. And my mom would always say, Mae said this was one of the finest examples of this type of work that she'd ever seen. The set is complete. One elevated cake stand and eight matching plates, remarkably preserved in near pristine condition, suggesting it was admired more than used. Each plate is hand-painted with exquisite detail, depicting birds not of faraway jungles, but of the English countryside. Thrushes, finches, and garden birds familiar to Victorian eyes. That choice itself is unusual, as ornithological services of the time more often showcased exotic species. The exception in this collection is the fruit stand, adorned with a parrot, a fittingly exotic touch for the centerpiece of a dessert service, symbolizing the allure of imported fruits in Victorian Britain. Though unmarked, the porcelain was almost certainly produced in Staffordshire, the heart of England's ceramics industry. Its style places it in the mid-Victorian era, circa 1860 to 1870, when hand-painted porcelain reached a peak of artistry and refinement. At a retail price, it's going to be at least $1,000, and possibly a dealer would price it at $1,500 or $1,600. Okay, great. My grandmother purchased this, I think sometime in the 50s. I liked the puppy dog face, I thought it was cute, and it made me smile, so I hung on to it. The vase was crafted by Weller Pottery of Zanesville, Ohio, one of the giants of American art pottery in the early 20th century. Around 1905, Weller was producing richly decorated wares using a technique known as incising, where designs were carved into the surface before glazing. While the specific artist behind this portrait remains unknown, the vase isn't signed, the quality of the work is undeniable. The soft shading, the lifelike detail, and above all, the expression on George's face revealed the skill of Weller's decorators at the time. This was a period when Weller was competing with other major potteries like Rookwood and Roseville to bring fine art into everyday homes. The sad part is this market has taken a big hit since 2008 when the economy took a dive. 30, 40 years ago, this piece might have been worth $2,000 to $3,000 because of an animal portrait. Today, it's more likely in the $500 to $700 range. George will be very happy knowing where he's from. I found this in an antique store in Santa Cruz, New Mexico, and it was right at the pandemic, and I make ceramics myself, and I teach ceramics, so I knew at the time that it was very hard and took a lot of time to make something like this, and then when I saw after looking closer that it was probably all handmade and then wasn't signed, I became really intrigued because usually I know a lot about these things and I had no idea where this came from. What did you pay for it, do you remember? It was under $20. At first glance, its style recalls the famed Japanese Satsuma tradition, known for rich enamel work and intricate surface decoration. But in truth, this is American Satsuma, crafted on Japanese porcelain blanks that were imported to the United States during a turbulent moment in history. With World War I cutting off access to German and French porcelain, American decorators turned to Japan for their blanks, then applied their own elaborate designs at home. It is an enamel painting. The way this is painted, all those black lines would have most likely been delineated with a mix of wax and manganese. And in the firing, the wax will burn off and just leave that black line. I would think that the initials in the medallion are most likely for the person who would be receiving this, as opposed to the artist. It would be so very elaborate. Though unsigned, the craftsmanship here is exceptional, with its glowing enamel colors and rhythmic organic design. And while the buyer thought of it simply as a beautiful handmade object, the box is also an artifact of how American artisans adapted and innovated during a global crisis. I was discussing this with my colleagues at the pottery and porcelain table, and we were agreeing that at auction, probably at four to six hundred dollars. Okay. So you did well. Thank you. I just wish the artist who made it could get the credit, because I'm always in awe of it. It's just kind of amazing. Sometimes, what looks like just an old family keepsake turns out to be a cornerstone of American art history. This picture, once tucked away with nothing more than a scrap of paper marked old, is actually an early treasure from Rookwood Pottery, one of the most influential names in American ceramics. The company started in 1880. It was in Cincinnati, Ohio. This line was referred to as Limoges or Limoges style. Limoges is a city outside of Paris that was a huge center for mostly porcelain. The French makers would have been shown at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. In 1876. And the women who ended up starting Rookwood Pottery, and the American art pottery movement in general, would all have been at that exhibition, and they would have been impressed to see how the Japanese aesthetic was being interpreted by the French. On this vessel, we see bamboo stalks, swallows in flight that nearly resemble bats, and cloud veils drifting across the surface. Nature refracted through both Japanese and French lenses, then reinterpreted in Cincinnati clay. There's a slightly clumsy, earnest quality to the painting, but that's exactly what makes it so important. It represents the very beginnings of American art pottery. The picture bears the Rookwood mark and the date 1883. And though the artist's signature is difficult to read, it may even have been decorated by Mariah herself. Every major American museum with a ceramics collection considers early Rookwood pieces essential. And this is precisely why. They embody the birth of a movement that would soon define an era of American decorative arts. A pre-auction estimate these days would probably be $1,000 to $1,500. Wow, I was thinking like $200 first. That's great. I love it. It's not as popular as it would have been 20 and 30 and 40 years ago, but it is a really important piece of America. Well, that's great. Thank you so much. My pleasure. Yay, I'm very happy. My big question is, is this a child's tea set? Or what was this used for? I'm thinking it was a child's tea set because it's so tiny, but then why would you give this to a child to play with? My brother got it for me 14 years ago, so I want to pass it down to my niece. There are such things as child sets. This is not a child set. And by the way, it's not a tea set. It's a coffee? It's a coffee set. Coffee pots tend to be taller with a more extended spout. The porcelain itself was crafted in Limoges, France, a region that for centuries has been synonymous with some of the world's finest porcelain. Each piece bears the Limoges, France mark, a stamp of authenticity that collectors instantly recognize. But what makes this particular set stand out is not just its French origin. It's the decoration. Rather than the grandmotherly floral motifs that were common in China painting of the era, this set bursts with art deco flair. Its bold modern strokes suggest the hand of a young woman in tune with the jazz age, the flapper spirit, and the sleek sophistication of the roaring 20s. This was not your typical parlor room painting. This was forward-looking design, stylish, chic, and alive with the optimism of the modern world. You say your brother bought it for you? My brother did, yes. He lived in Denver and saw this in just a little antique store. How much did he pay for it in that antique shop? Do you know? 300, I think he said. The set consists of six demitasse cups and saucers along with the coffee pot, each piece beautifully executed and remarkably well preserved. Today, with its elegant design and fine condition, a set like this would be priced far higher. As far as the value, he paid a fair price for it back then, but I think if it was in a good antique shop today, I could see it priced at twice that, five, six, or even $700. Oh, nice, nice, nice. It is so pretty, so exquisite, so delicate. I love it. It's just, it's so cute. Yeah, it's a treasure. Yes, it is. It was from my great-aunt's estate who was a real world traveler, but also collected things in the United States. I got it. I saw it in a museum about five years later in San Francisco. Not this identical piece, but one extremely similar to it. So when I got home, I looked it up online, and it said at that time it was from a prestigious Eastern pottery school, and the artist was well-known, but the piece was only worth $215 to $250. And that was all I knew about it, and it's been packed away ever since. Made in Zanesville, Ohio, around 1905, it belongs to the Weller-Sicard line, one of the most coveted chapters in American ceramics. The name comes from Jacques Sicard, a French ceramicist hired by Sam Weller to bring his knowledge of metallic luster glazes, known in France as reflets metalliques, to the American market. What made these vases so special was their iridescent jewel-like surfaces, created by firing metallic oxides into the glaze. But Sicard guarded his formula with near-paranoid secrecy. He worked alone, in locked rooms, even after discovering holes drilled in the walls by Weller's men, desperate to steal his techniques. The line started appearing in 1903, and Sicard was back in France in 1907, so it would have been made within those years. I had no idea it was that old, actually. I assumed it was from the 1930s. Weller was onto very, very different kind of production by the 30s, much more commercial. The example here glows with swirling Art Nouveau patterns, and deep metallic reflections, an unmistakable hallmark of Sicard's hand. Once dismissed as worth only a few hundred dollars, today collectors recognize its rarity. This lovely piece of Weller Sicard, which is signed down here. Oh my gosh, I didn't even see it. It's usually in camo, is worth these days, at auction, around a thousand dollars. Wonderful. I got them from an antique dealer 50 years ago, or my mother did. I'd gone to this dealer to buy cups and saucers for my mother at her birthday, or Christmas, or something. And she had this set, and she wouldn't sell it. And finally, she called my mother in 51, and said she was ready to part with it. And then my mother gave it to us for Christmas the following year. My mother paid $100 for it. Made around 1780 at the Colley Porcelain Factory in Shropshire, England, this charming little service is more than just a toy. In the 18th century, sets like these were created not only for play, but as a way to teach young girls refinement. How to serve, how to care for porcelain, and how to behave properly at the table. The Colley Works, sometimes called Silopian Ware after the old name for Shropshire, was a small factory compared to giants like Worcester or Darby. Yet its pieces are beloved for their delicacy and their hand-painted designs inspired by Chinese porcelain. This set features a tiny coffee pot, saucers, and cups, painted in the chinoiserie style so popular at the time. For insurance valuation, this little group would be valued up to $3,000. Wow, thank you. A large part of the value of that is actually in the coffee pot. The coffee pot is one of the sweetest little pieces of Carfley porcelain any collector could ever wish to have. At first glance, this looks like the kind of wash set you'd expect to find in a Victorian bedroom. Utilitarian, sturdy, made to be used and eventually discarded. But this particular set is no ordinary survivor. Made by Royal Doulton around 1905, it belongs to a rare pattern known as Moreland. You inherited this from your family? Several pieces, and then I was at a country auction years ago and I bought another dozen pieces. I've never seen this size in this pattern. Pitcher and bowl sets were once essential in households before indoor plumbing. But because they were so heavily used, few have survived intact in good condition. Many were chipped, cracked, or simply discarded as plumbing modernized. That's what makes this set stand out. Its scale, detail, and craftsmanship set it apart from the typical examples. Where most are plain and practical, this one is richly decorated, far more ornate than the everyday versions. While the broader market for pitcher and bowl sets has cooled compared to their popularity decades ago, rarity still matters. This is probably a 1 in 500 bowl and pitcher set, and for that it's worth between $1,000 and $1,500. This will not change my lifestyle. When I got into the business almost 40 years ago, bowl and pitcher sets were a hot deal, and they've since cooled off quite a bit. Gary, why did you start collecting art pottery? My doctor told me to get a hobby. How long have you been collecting pottery? About 10 years. And you told me you came across these in unusual fashion. I'm in the roofing business. A gentleman had a bed and breakfast near where I live, so I told him I'd do his roof for $12,000, and he didn't have that much money, so he said he'd give me $6,000 cash and some art pottery. The pieces he brought in reveal a perfect, good, better, best progression. The first is a large production vase, molded rather than hand-thrown, with embossed decoration and the classic Rookwood mark. Then comes something more refined, a standard glaze vase from 1899, decorated with clover blossoms by Edith Felton. This brown-glazed line is what many people picture when they think of Rookwood. Crisp, elegant, and unmistakably late Victorian. But the star of the group is a much smaller vessel dated 1901, signed by Amelia B. Sprague. It belongs to Rookwood's elusive painted mat line, a technique requiring extraordinary skill to achieve soft, flowing lines and delicate tones. Sprague's mistletoe design glows with quiet artistry, and collectors know just how rare these are. This production vase, which is taller than most, you would find it at auction or estimate it for auction. It'd be about $200 to $300. The standard glaze piece, top auction estimate would be about $350 to $450, maybe some of them would say $500, but that's about as far as anybody would estimate that. But this sweet pot here, which is smaller than that one, and in some ways not as showy, a reasonable auction estimate would be $2,500 to $3,500, and maybe as much as $3,000 to $4,000. It's that lovely. GUEST Great. APPRAISER I'm not sure if it's great. You said you took it for $6,000 and traded it for Rookwood. GUEST Well, I traded about 10 pieces all together of different pots. APPRAISER Oh, so this isn't all that you got for the $6,000? GUEST No. APPRAISER Okay, so you're probably safe there. GUEST They came from my father's family, and I'm not 100% sure where they came from. APPRAISER Now, somebody wrote a note about them here. GUEST My grandma wrote that, and she must have done some research on it to try to find out what they are. APPRAISER She wrote here that these are rare, they're Worcester, they're in scale blue, she says, and she puts the dates there of the Dr. Wall period of Worcester. But a closer look revealed a different story. True first-period Worcester is soft-paste porcelain with a slightly creamy tone, often decorated with the famous scale blue glaze. These vases, while striking, were made of hard-paste porcelain, bright white and glassy, and their ornate handles didn't quite fit Worcester's style. Instead, the appraiser identified them as French porcelain, likely from the 1850s or 1860s. They were still beautifully hand-painted, finely detailed, and in excellent condition, just not the English masterpieces their grandmother had imagined. That difference in origin made a world of difference in value. GUEST In terms of value, I would say, in a good antique shop today, they'd be priced at at least $1,200 and maybe $1,500 for the pair. If they were Worcester of the first period, they could be $7,000 to $8,000, something like that or more. But they are great vases in their own right. Thank you very much for coming. APPRAISER Thank you. GUEST We call it the ugly thing or the ugly vase. I bought it about 15 years ago. I'm never sure if it's a pregnant woman, if she's getting to topple over. It's a weird little piece. I liked it when I saw it. It comes from a Dutch dealer. APPRAISER And do you remember how much you paid? GUEST Yes, $580. The surprise came in the appraisal. This wasn't just an eccentric oddity, but a rare ceramic by Jean Cocteau, one of France's great 20th century artists. Cocteau was a poet, painter, filmmaker, and designer, a true modernist who rubbed shoulders with legends like Picasso. In fact, it was Picasso who inspired Cocteau to try ceramics after discovering the joy of clay work in Valois, France. Between 1957 and his death in 1963, Cocteau created about 300 ceramic designs, often in very small editions. This piece, marked Original Edition from Jean Cocteau, Studio Madeleine Jolly, was produced in collaboration with French artists Marie Madeleine and Philippe Jolly. The edition is tiny. Only ten examples were made, and this was number six. What makes it even more unusual are its detachable horns, deliberately designed to be loose, adding to its playful, surreal character. It's the kind of bizarre creativity that makes Cocteau's ceramics so sought after today. Prints and editions are very frothy right now. If we were to put this at auction, though it is an edition, easily we would put this in at $10,000 to $15,000. Sorry. That's fun. For an ugly vase. Perfect. Wonderful. Thank you. Very good. These belong to my grandmother. They're actually a set of six. My sister has the other three. And I've recently rediscovered them in a closet in my home during a remodel. And I've had them since my grandmother passed away in 1999. These always sat in a special cabinet. We were not allowed to touch them. We never got to eat out of them. Okay. But she did eat out of them. Oh, yes. These were her special dinner dessert for people that came to her home. What kind of dessert did she serve? Knowing my grandma, probably ice cream. She was from Texas, too. And she never had less than three kinds of ice cream in the freezer. Marked with a tiny lamb beneath the word Dresden, these cups were decorated by the celebrated firm Ambrosius Lamb, one of the finest porcelain workshops of late 19th and early 20th century Germany. Dresden wasn't a manufacturer at all, but rather the artistic hub where companies like Lamb transformed plain porcelain blanks into richly hand-painted treasures. Each cup tells its own story through Watteau-style scenes. Graceful couples in garden landscapes, chatting or playing music, framed by lavish raised gilding. And to make them even more desirable, every piece was done in a different jewel-toned color, part of a wide rainbow palette sought after by collectors. Originally produced in sets of 12, today even a single example can be more valuable than an intact set, because collectors worldwide are eager to hunt down missing colors. And these were probably made around 1900. And my grandmother would have probably bought them in the early 1950s. Okay, and then they would have, so they would have been old or secondhand at that point. They were still, they were always a luxury object. So in today's market, when they're sold at a retail price, they usually sell for between $1,500 and $2,000 each. Each? Each. That certainly is a big surprise. I can assure you my grandmother didn't pay that. So the combined value for your three would be between $4,500 and $6,000 retail price. I'm shocked. I really, I'm truly shocked. I think it's a little shocking myself.