The “WIPA” is open. For two years the philatelic world has staggered under an avalanche of “Wipa” literature. One prospectus has followed another – Werbeschrift they call them here, and I will not attempt the German plural so give you the word in the singular – forms by the dozen, some to keep, some to fill in and return; propaganda labels, still more forms, and so the merry game has gone on – all leading up to the great day, a day which is in progress as I write these hurried notes on the Terrace of my hotel in Vienna. On this occasion I must discard the editorial ”we” from this page. I have come here to write a personal account of this great Exhibition, and intend to keep it as informal as possible. My older readers will remember that it has been my practice to write fairly detailed reports of the more important exhibitions in order to provide a more critical permanent record than could be found in the exhibition catalogue. Hence my presence here. So far, I seem to be the only representative of a British stamp paper, so it may be that my readers will be getting an “exclusive” account (a tempting excuse for my publishers to put up the subscription rate). And now for the Exhibition.
It is Saturday, the 24th June, and at 10 o’clock this morning the Exhibition was declared open by the President of the Austrian Republic. This ceremony took place, not in the Exhibition building, but in the adjoining concert hall. It was a most imposing ceremony, and the audience must have numbered a thousand. The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra (of about seventy-five players) opened the proceedings with some suitably classic Beethoven, after which followed the speeches. The President of the “Wipa” spoke first, and invited the President of the Republic to declare the Exhibition open. This done, other speeches followed from the Minister of Finance and from the Burgermeister of Vienna. The serious part over, the orchestra played the “Blue Danube” waltz. It was an exceptional experience to hear this grand old dance tune plaved by a full philharmonic orchestra – and they did it magnificently. Another speech or two, the end part of Brahms’ No. 1 Symphony by the orchestra, and then we all trooped over the road to the main exhibition building.
It is a grand show of stamps; this is a lovely city; the weather has turned beautiful, and so everyone should be happy. I might except those who are issuing (or buying) the special government postage stamps issued for the Exhibition. On previous occasions I have given my opinion in no unmeasured terms of these “special” stamps. Personally I havn’t seen one of the Vienna ones yet, but saw some excited scrambling to secure these much-prized atrocities. I have just said that this is a charming city, I must not forget to say that the people are equally charming, all cheerful, all smiling – but that is the character of the place. In contrasting Berlin with Vienna, it is said that the Germans say that “things are serious but not hopeless,” while the Austrians say “things are hopeless, but not serious” – and after all, in this extraordinary muddled world that we are living in, that isn’t such a bad philosophy, as the text-book ones don’t seem to work.
To-morrow I start on my intensive tour of the Exhibits – my account of them must wait till our next number, as it is only by getting off these few notes of the opening ceremony by 8 o’clock to-night that I can get them to England in time for the June issue. I arrived here two days ago in order to arrange the display stand for the P.J. of G.B. that we had ordered. Alas, it had not materialised by this morning, though I had optimistically been paying visits every two hours or so to the Exhibition office. However, I am told it will eventually appear, so the old journal will get an airing in these pleasant climes.
I must warn my readers that my promised report upon the exhibits depends upon two unpleasant bogeys: Mr. Arthritis and Mr. Neuritis. Since my arrival I have presented a pathetic picture to the natives of an overworked philatelic editor tottering around on two sticks – and very literally, I am sorry to say; also, about nine hours sleep in four days is not exactly helpful to a proper appreciation of another fellow’s minor varieties. Still, I will do my best.
To-night there is to be a “beer” evening. Undaunted by the fact that I am only allowed water, I hope to go. It is all very pleasant and our hosts, who are slowly extracting themselves from the orgy of forms and printed matter, are delightful companions. Following the usual continental fashion, one is always shaking hands. However many times you may meet the same people in a short space of time – all shake hands. A very pleasant custom, doubtless, but at first difficult of dignified achievement when balanced on a stick with one hand and holding a hat and exhibition catalogue (latter in three languages) in the other. Going to my bath, complete with stick and large sponge, I experienced at first a slight difficulty in executing the hand-shaking operation with all those philatelists I met in the corridor, with quite that aplomb that I felt was necessary to uphold the prestige of the Old Country. But I have got it now, and d’Artagnan never swept off his hat with more grace than that with which I transfer my sponge from my right hand to the crook of the stick in my left, drying my right in the one same operation on my dressing gown. My best bag, so far, is four handshakes in the fifteen yards between iny room and the bath-room, two of them forming a perfect fast “right and left” immediately I emerged this morning.
To return to stamps. An important feature of this Exhibition is the British Government exhibit – the first Great Britain has contributed to a foreign philatelic exhibition. I have no time to describe this exhibit to-day, but, as this is such an important innovation, I give below the description as it appears in English in the official catalogue.
“The original die of the Penny black with the portrait head of Queen Victoria. From this die 204 Penny plates were made. Towards the end of 1854 consequent on the increasing weakness of the impressions, a copy of the original die was made which was retouched by William Humphreys. (Ph.) The original die, when taken out of use, was inscribed with the words ‘OLD ORIGINAL’ (Ph.). Humphreys’ retouched die, which was used for the preparation of the 1d. and 2d. plates made after 1854, is inscribed ‘NEW 3’. (Ph.). Furthermore, the 2d. die adapted from the One Penny retouched die of 1854 and first used in 1858 for 2d. plate 7, is being shown, as well as the original die of the Halfpenny stamp of 1870, engraved by Frederick Heath. The following proofs are being shown: a proof sheet, in black, on India paper, of the first plate of the One Penny stamp before insertion of the check letters and marginal inscriptions. This unique sheet of plate 1 in its original state, is in full black and shows the as yet quite unworn plate. Furthermore, a set of One Penny stamps cut from the imprimatur sheets registered at Somerset House. These sheets were never perforated or gummed. Of the 1d. black the plates A (V R Official) 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, are shown, also: 1d. red, original die 1, alphabet 1, plates 12-131, alphabet 2, plates 132-204; 1d. red original die 2, alphabet 2, plates 1-21, alphabet 3, plates 22-49 and 52-68 alphabet 4, plates 50, 51; 1d. red, new issue with four check letters, plates 71-225; 1d. Venetian Red, De la Rue, plates 1-33; 1d. lilac 14 dots, plates 1-8, 16 dots, plates 9-80. Of the Mulready Design for envelopes and letter sheets there is one plate proof before insertion of value and ‘POSTAGE’, signed by Rowland Hill, also a finished proof. Lastly the imprimatur impression of the One Penny Mulready letter sheet, on Dickinson silk-thread paper, registered April 7th, 1840, is also shown.”
Leave A Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.