Antique Collecting articles Battie by Nature

Battie by Nature David Battie’s eye is turned by a pair of ivory figures, carved in post-war Japan, whose beauty belies a disturbing past I SUPPOSE THAT WE, IN THE world of antiques, are lucky because we rarely get bored. There is always something new (actually old) to amuse, edify or stretch us. Once in a while there comes an object that makes the hair on the back of our necks stand up. Such is the figure of the small girl illustrated above. She stands, head bowed, in a smock dress and bobby socks, pregnant both in life as well as meaning, considering her, say, fourteen years. At first glance she appeared so obviously a mass-produced, plastic souvenir of the 1950s that I am surprised I gave her a second look when I skimmed past her on a dealer’s internet site. The inscription on the base, ‘Kilroy was here’, has an interesting etymology. It was scrawled over everything during the Second World War wherever an American GI found himself, rather akin to a dog marking its territory. Then the Brits copied it. So ubiquitous was it, it was chalked on the bricks of our school playground wall, often accompanied by a goofy face and hands. The figure is only 9.5cm high, but the American dealer swore it was ivory, so I bought it – although I was fully prepared to find it was celluloid when it arrived. There was also a pedigree: the figure had been brought back from Japan by a GI in 1946/7 following the Occupation. And then came the problem. Not that the price was steep (£120, with the dealer chucking in a broken one for £50) but the stumbling block was CITES, the Convention on International Trades in Endangered Species, which prevented the dealer from posting overseas. I arranged with my brother-in-law (a professor of cats in Texas) to take delivery while I sorted out the export/import. Years went by, letters were exchanged, forms were filled in, but the bureaucracy defeated me. I asked my b-in-law just to post them with a customs declaration on the box. 56 Actually, they were carved just before the cut-off implementation deadline of 1947 and were legal anyway, but I was being over-law-abiding. The rules have since become much more stringent. I regularly play games with myself, automatically clicking the payment boxes on auction internet sites without checking to see what they relate to, so that when the boxes are delivered – it’s Christmas! I have to confess, on some occasions when ghastly mistakes are made, it turns out to be Halloween. Anyway, the girls arrived and I was hooked. They were ivory, very well carved and were signed. Now to disentangle the back-story. After the war, Japan was without food and without pride. Nothing could be more unimaginable to the Japanese than surrender. For some, seppuku, ritual suicide, was preferable. Japan had been famed in the USA for its ivory carvings of which most were exported, but now there were no tusks. Trade did revive, but it was in pieces smaller than earlier carvings and in pieces made for the GI market and in contemporary taste. For a ‘run’ of identical objects, plastic is the material of choice, but plastic demands chemicals and these were unavailable. The skilled craftsmen who survived the war, turned their hand to carving pieces like this one. Sweet though the image may seem, it conveys a darker side. Here is an adolescent girl who is very obviously pregnant. She appears to be American, but is she? Her eyes are those of an oriental. And who had left his mark where he should not have done? Kilroy, in the form of a GI. The GI who commissioned the girl was about as insensitive as one can imagine. And what of the carver? Bitter must have been his tears. In this tiny figure, a whole period of Japanese/ American relations is epitomised. Two Japanese ivory pregnant young girls, engraved ‘Kilroy was Here’, signed Masayuki, 9.5cm, c.1946/7