HALOS OF ANGELS

Ernst F. Tonsing, Ph.D.

Thousand Oaks, California
November 17, 2005

For Scandinavians, the kitchen is as close to heaven one can get on earth—except
for church, of course. As proof of this, besides the delicious smells and tempting goodies
there, one has only to look up to see where angels store their halos when they are busy
doing the things that angels are supposed to do. These disks take up the flicker of candles
or glow of incandescent bulbs and reflect them back down into the room with their glass-
like surfaces. In southern latitudes such halos are gold in color, but in the northern climes
angels’ heads are wreathed for formal occasions in a vibrant, deep blue.

There must be lots of Nordic angels, since nearly every Scandinavian kitchen or
dining room has racks of these halos containing from several pieces to dozens. These
objects to mere mortals—or non-Scandinavians—are just dishes. (But, even they have to
admit their beauty and miraculous qualities.) The ceramics began to appear in Danish
homes in 1895, when the Bing and Grøndahl firm began to make porcelain Christmas
plates. Then, in 1908, the Royal Copenhagen Porcelain factory began to issue their own
designs.

The Jule After, or “Christmas” plates produced by both of these companies are of
luminous blue, the result of a complex process in which the design is painted by the artist.
Then dipped into a glaze, the decoration disappears until the pieces are fired and the
images reappear. While the two companies make plates that are similar in size and color,
the B&G have a border that contains the date, and the RC contains a scene that continues
from the center to the rim uninterrupted. Each year, artists submit their designs for
consideration, but only one is chosen. Then, on Christmas Eve, the mold for the plate is
broken so that the design will never be reissued.

The scenes depicted in these disks are as wondrous as the glistening surfaces upon
which they are drawn—sledges pulled by dogs towards a distant village, an owl resting
on a tree limb under a winter moon, a rabbit sitting in the snow alongside a farm gate,
three pheasants in the snow while in the background, beneath the gentle radiance of the
Christmas star, light glows from the windows of a farmhouse. Other plates show horses
and riders beneath the gnarled branches of a great oak, the rocks of an ancient dolmen
(prehistoric burial place) under a full moon, and a fishing ship arriving at a dock with
people running out to greet the sailors. The plates with Christmas themes show a family
carrying a pine tree into their house for the holiday, a snow-covered churchyard, the
interior of a church with the congregation sitting in pews that are lighted at each end by
candles, or a family gathered to sing carols as the mother plays an upright piano.
 Favorites among the plates are ones with scenes from the capital city. Besides the
public buildings and fine churches, of course, there is the lovely, lonely Mermaid sitting
on her rock by the harbor, gazing wistfully out to sea. During the dark years of World
War II and the occupation of the country, a subtle political message was revealed in the
depiction on a B&G plate in 1944 of the Sorgenfri Castle near Copenhagen just outside
the commercial center of Lyngby, where King Christian X was being held prisoner by the
Nazis.

It is thought that such Christmas plates originated centuries ago. Prosperous

families would heap special foods on wood platters to give to their servants at
Christmastime. While these dishes were usually of wood, they were kept and treasured
for their special decorations. Hung on the walls or placed in racks, they gave a bit of
elegance to the otherwise poor dwellings. Gradually, the designs of the plates became
more beautiful, and dates were carved or drawn on them. They became treasured objects
in themselves, and it was a matter of prestige to have the most beautiful and largest
collection of them. In some old homes, rail after rail of plates extend upward to the peak
of the roof in a grand pyramid.

This is what most people believe. Real Scandinavians, however, know that the
blue disks on the kitchen walls are the halos of angels, and that they are placed there
while these heavenly beings are engaged in the important things that angels are supposed
to do—like bake Christmas cookies.