The Art of Porcelain Restoraiton — or Cry for Help and a New Hobby

My wife Luba works with art dealers, museums, and private collectors, as well as regular citizens like you and me who prefer finer things in life. You might think she’s a dope peddler or a real estate agent. You would be wrong. She’s a ceramic restorer who helps folks all over the world bring their valuable and sentimental pieces back to life. Plates, vases, figurines, sculptures, dolls… Lots of dolls, but more about dolls later.

Luba is good at what she does. Very good.

This is what the vase looked like when Luba and her assistant put all the pieces together with tape. A large piece is missing, and there are a few cracks. The next steps are sculpting the missing piece(s), gluing and bonding them, filling in the cracks, matching and replicating the design and color, airbrushing, and finally, glazing. I might have listed the steps out of order a little, but you get the picture.
Normally, restoration takes around four to six weeks. But the glaze on this beauty refused to dry, so the client had to wait longer. Like a few weeks longer. It rarely happens, but it does happen. The client was super-patient, and that was much appreciated.

Luba has been on this restoration mission for almost 30 years, and she takes great pride in her role as New York City’s Antique Repair Ambassador. This endearing title was bestowed upon her by a devoted client who, over the past seven years, entrusted her with the restoration of seven Meissen figures, one for each year. So why in the world would Luba even think of contemplating retirement before the pandemic struck?

Well, there’s arthritis, which has been playing a game of speed checkers with her hands (all that scrubbing, sculpting, and cleaning). Then there are noxious fumes from airbrushing and glazing (expensive masks notwithstanding) that have been silently taking a toll behind the scenes. There might be a third, or even a fourth reason… but that’s between Luba and her imaginary shrink. Another topic for another time.

Then came the pandemic, engulfing the city. Luba’s initial thought was, “Well, it seems the virus from Wuhan has made the decision for me.” However, that was before a hot-shot divorce attorney from Manhattan contacted her. Referred to LRS by a former client, he was teetering on the edge of despair. During a heated argument, he had impulsively thrown a 100-year-old bisque doll at his wife. Forced to work from home, he had been stuck with his other half in their Lexington penthouse for over three weeks, which was way too long for him. “The man couldn’t handle the heat,” as my paternal grandfather Lyova used to say. The doll was a gift from the attorney’s wife’s grandmother who had passed a year ago. Off-the-charts sentimental value.


Shelter in place, my ass! Fix my doll, or I’m taking you to the cleaners!

                            Money is no object. I just need to get that f…..g doll fixed.

Done. The head attached to the body, and the wig attached to the head.

Five weeks later, flipping the bird to Andrew Cuomo’s lockdown rule, the said attorney got in his limo and went to Brooklyn to pick up the restored doll. It wasn’t the first time I saw a grown man cry, but it was the first time I wanted to hug a weeping stranger (I managed to control myself).

Hugging a weeping stranger. An AI generated image.

That day Luba retired her plans for retirement. If she could ease the suffering of a single human being, she thought (albeit someone with a bad temper), she had a moral obligation to continue working.

Now, on to dolls. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe that weeping lawyer had a secret key to the stars of new trends, but from that day on, Luel Restoration Studio started getting doll restoration requests like requests were going out of style. Restringing limbs, fixing bodies, making wigs, cutting and sewing new clothes, restoring badly damaged heads, sculpting fingers and toes, you name it. The trend started way before Barbie’s pink revolution. But it continues to this day.

Oh, Luba still restores plenty of plates, vases (see above), figurines, and sculptures. But the dolls take the cake. And if you think only women collect dolls, you’d be wrong. Again. A recent client is a truck-driving farmer from Nebraska who has a closet full of antique porcelain dolls.

Those of you who wonder why grown people collect dolls might want to read this and this. And maybe watch this.

According to a child psychiatrist and Luel Restoration Studio client, Dr. Ludwig R., “Collecting dolls is similar to other forms of collecting, such as model trains or stamps, or pincushions. Collecting dolls can be a form of relaxation and stress relief. The act of carefully arranging and displaying a collection can help some individuals cope with stress, anxiety, or other emotional challenges.”

There you have it, folks. If you don’t have a hobby, I recommend collecting dolls.

As for Luba, she will retire at some point. But for now, she’s happy making other people happy.

Thanks for reading.

ak

If you’re interested in photography, self-development, and many other things that make life worth living, check out my Substack newsletter:
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