In an Oct. 29, 1930 letter to a friend and former employer, Albert Solon, founder of San Jose, Calif., tile maker Solon & Schemmel, wrote: "There is no more market for old tiles than for diseased tonsils."
Collectors weren’t always clamoring for California tiles. But today a growing and enthusiastic audience of admirers is embracing the supremely functional regional art form.
Wells Antiques in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Echo Park counts such luminaries as actors Brad Pitt and Patricia Arquette, director Joel Schumacher and designer Michael Smith on its customer list. The shop supplied such rare finds as decorative bears from Hillside Pottery for Diane Keaton’s 1920s home in Bel Air.
Wells opened in 1992, just as appreciation for California tiles was heating up, stocking its shelves with tiles and decorative objects bought at auctions, estate sales and flea markets, as well as unopened cartons of tiles that had sat in garages for decades.
“Because they were so abundant, people are still finding boxes of tiles in basements, warehouses all kinds of places,” said Riley Doty, who became smitten with California tiles after moving to the Bay Area in 1985. “You’ll see vintage installations in parks, lobbies of public buildings, your neighbor’s bathroom.”
A historian and a tilesetter for more than 25 years, he is a contributor to an essential guide for collectors, California Tile: The Golden Era 1910-1940 (Schiffer, 2004).
Doty talks about tiles in language that might describe wine, another California obsession. His favorite vintage is S&S, headed by Solon, an Englishman who came to San Jose in 1908 to teach ceramics. The company crafted tiles depicting fanciful fish for the Steinhart Aquarium in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park and the fabled California landmark in San Simeon, Hearst Castle.
“They were a little-known treasure in the (San Francisco) Bay Area, with a full-bodied range of glazes, moody and expressive,” he said.
As an aficionado of tiles, he treks neighborhoods on foot or by bicycle, the better to spot tile risers on a garden staircase or the flash of tile wainscoting still brightening the foyer of an Art Deco apartment building.
As an artisan, Doty luxuriates in the feel of tiles handmade with wet clay, each piece with its own unique personality.
“They’re warped and undulating,” he said. “It’s part of the aesthetic.”
Between 1915 and the early 1930s, when the population of Los Angeles grew tenfold from 23,000 to 230,000, more than 100 tile factories fired up throughout the state, including such powerhouses as Malibu Potteries, Taylor Tilery, Catalina Pottery, Batchelder, California Clay Products Co. (CalCo), Gladding, McBean; and California Faience Co. of Berkeley.
Claycraft and Batchelder tiles were a perfect match for Arts & Crafts architecture, with muted hues and an earthy aesthetic that complements the dark woods of the interiors.
“The Batchelders and many of the Claycrafts are matte-glazed, very dry to the touch, difficult to keep clean,” said Mary McDonough, a collector and gifted potter, ceramic artist and tile maker from Blackbird, Del. “I like the Malibus’ glossiness. I'm a functional potter, and I like my tiles functional, too.”
Inspired by Moorish, Mediterranean and Spanish colonial designs, Malibu Potteries flourished briefly but brilliantly, from 1926-1932, fueled by abundant red clay, water from Sweetwater Canyon and the imagination of artisans and artists who flocked to California.
“Creative people had a very long leash at the potteries because everybody was making money,” Doty said.
Malibu Potteries burned in 1931 and was never rebuilt as America toppled into the Great Depression. But Adamson House, the home of the Adamson and Rindge families who established the business, is now operated by the State of California. Miraculously, the structure was spared as this fall’s Malibu fires raged only a few hundred yards away.
Ironically, the original owners’ misfortune has proved a boon for visitors today. Because the family never regained its wealth, the sisters who lived on in the house didn’t update it. In addition to glorious tiles, still lustrous and richly hued, the original furnishings have been retained, down to fragile linen draperies imported from Belgium.
There’s a Persian-style “rug” – complete with “fringe” etched into the tiles – in the foyer. The living room floor is paved in a Moorish basket-weave pattern. Vivid marine-blue tiles form wainscoting in the kitchen.
Tiles were originally designed as architectural elements to be installed on floors, walls, window casings and rooftops. But collectors also are buying individual tiles and treating them as portable works of art.
“Very often, when I go into people’s houses to work, I’ll see a few beautiful tiles displayed on the mantel along with vases and hammered copper work,” Doty said.
McDonough, who displays her favorite tiles around the house on racks in an ever-changing tableau, bought most of her California pieces on eBay, dealing with sellers from all over North America.
Despite their West Coast roots, plenty of tiles made their way east, said Joe Taylor, founder of the Tile Heritage Foundation in Healdsburg, Calif.
At the top of that list is the work of the exuberantly prolific Ernest Batchelder, who crafted tiles in his backyard in Pasadena, Calif., in 1909 before opening potteries that operated from 1910-1930. In 2001, developers unearthed seven tons of Batchelder field stones, pavers, decorative tiles and fireplace surrounds, tucked in barrels and abandoned in an oak grove.
“He had major dealers in New York and Philadelphia,” Taylor said. “He was a marvelous marketer who put out a catalog in 1912.”
Batchelder tiles are the personal favorite of Suzanne Perrault of Perrault-Rago Galleries in Lambertville, N.J. She admires their muted colors and dynamic interpretations of life, ranging from stylized trees to a saber-swinging buccaneer to murals of Dutch life designed for a Los Angeles chocolate shop.
“The designs are spectacular, true art,” she said.
Tile makers were inspired by many cultures. Malibu’s geometric flowers have their roots in Islamic tradition. Artisans depicted such diverse subjects as Native Americans, sailing ships and airplanes. Spanish colonial and Moorish designs are reflected in Balboa Park in San Diego, where the domed tower on the Museum of Man is decorated with polychrome tiles set in a star pattern.
“You also can see the influence of the Mediterranean, Portugal, southern France in California tiles,” noted Perrault. “There’s an awful lot of borrowing of patterns.”
Of all vintage tiles made in California, those produced by Catalina command the highest prices, with some retailers asking $500 or more for a single 6-inch decorative tile. Known for hand-glazed, vividly colored depictions of tropical birds and flowers, the pottery on scenic Catalina Island operated in the 1920s and ’30s. (According to legend, a potter declared the island was the ideal place to make tiles after his car became mired in heavy clay soil.)
At auction, Perrault describes prices for California tiles in general as being “up, down and sideways. When prices go up, a lot more examples come out because people see an opportunity to sell their tiles,” she explained. “Then, prices sometimes go down simply because the supply is nearly equal to the demand.”
