In the mid 1880s, a middle-aged czar was looking for the perfect Easter gift for his wife of twenty years. An egg was the obvious choice. In addition to being the Easter gift in vogue among Russian aristocracy, an egg would also have nostalgic value for his wife, who admired them growing up as a princess of Denmark. The czar approached a renowned goldsmith with the idea, and the product of their efforts so delighted the czarina that fifty eggs were eventually created, each bearing a different treasure inside.
The first Fabergé egg was made in 1885 by Carl Fabergé for Czar Alexander III, who gave it to his wife Maria Feodorovna, who loved it. The outer egg is gold with white enamel. It opens to a gold 'yolk,' which also opens to reveal a tiny adorable chicken, as shown. The chicken also opens, but its hidden surprise, a ruby crown attached to a pendant, has been lost to time. Pic from Link of Times.
Today, the glittering baubles which so charmed Russian royalty are hoarded by a new generation of magnates. They are incredibly valuable. Even though a single three-to-six-inch Fabergé egg can buy one of the nicer mansions in Beverly Hills, some can afford to keep several of these valuable eggs, locking them in a private gallery, much as Russia's last czars must have done.
Where are they now, and can I see one?
The eggs have been scattered around the world, so yes, you can probably see one. Russia started with 50 imperial eggs (There are other Fabergé masterpieces out there, but only 50 eggs made for the czars).
- 32 of those were eaten up by art dealers, foreign royalty, and industrial magnates at the close of the Russian Revolution
- The Soviets kept 10 for themselves
- 5 eggs have vanished, most likely for good
- 2 are presumed extant but missing
- And 1...
1 egg was found this last March by a lucky Midwestern scrap dealer, who paid $14,000 for it at a flea market. The egg, pictured below, is just over three inches high, not counting its base. For a mere four days, it was put on display in London by Wartski, the antique dealers who verified its authenticity. If you couldn't make it to the exhibition, Wartski posted some really nice pics here.
It could easily fit in the palm of your hand. The egg and stand are solid gold. The big center diamond functions as a button that pops open the egg's top half, revealing a watch. This egg has not been seen in public since 1902, when Nicholas II finally revealed his imperial egg collection to the public.
The man who discovered this lion-footed fortune received some undisclosed millions of dollars. We can only guess at his payment, since the last Fabergé egg--and it wasn't even an imperial egg--sold for $18 million. Did I mention that 2 eggs are still missing? It really boosts the appeal of garage sales.
Those of us who can't afford to buy an island can still catch sight of an egg or two, though it's no easy task. The Kremlin Armory Museum in Russia has 10 Fabergé eggs. Their website is shockingly dated, but you can find good pictures and descriptions of their clutch at moscowkremlin.ru. The Trans-Siberian egg is considered the jewel of the collection.
The Trans-Siberian egg, made in 1900, celebrated the rapid progress of the Trans-Siberian Railway across Russia. The silver middle of the egg depicts a map of Russia with the rail line, and the green enameled cap opens to reveal a tiny train set, pictured here outside the egg. The coaches are labeled, including 'Ladies Only' and 'Nonsmoking,' and this tiny train is wound up with a tiny golden key.
There are 3 in England's Royal Collection, but they are not often on display. This is quite a shame given the beauty of their Mosaic Egg.
The Mosaic egg, created in 1914 and currently a part of the Royal Collection. The egg's surprise, pictured here, is a tiny portrait of Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna's five children, the supposed future of Russian royalty. The egg is formed with a golden inner ribbing covered over with a platinum web, which has been studded with gemstones. Its construction allows light to pass through, giving it a radiance ill-captured in photographs. The inside of the egg is also quite beautiful.
The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts has 5 imperial eggs, the lucky product of donation, and they are far more willing to share them than most. The 5 eggs travel around the world in a roaming exhibition called Fabergé Revealed. At the moment, the exhibition is at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, where it will remain until October 19, 2014. Their Pelican egg unfolds into a set of eight pictures, and the Peter the Great egg is a whole miniature diorama.
This is the Peter the Great egg made for Easter 1903, currently owned by the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. As you can see, there is a ridiculous amount of gold, diamonds, and tiny bitty details all over this egg. I cannot even handle it. Look at how tiny that horse is! I cannot even handle this egg.
If you don't want to go to Canada, you may be able to see an imperial Fabergé egg on the East Coast. New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art has 3 on loan from the Matilda Geddings Gray Foundation, but only until November 2016. While lacking the Met's range and fame, Hillwood Museum in Washington, D.C. is a stately mansion-cum-museum that is packed with Russian art, including 2 imperial eggs. In my opinion, Hillwood is the better option for Fabergé hunters.
In 1896, the recently crowned Nicholas II gave this egg, the Twelve Monogram egg, to Maria Feodorovna, in honor of the recently deceased Alexander III, his father and her husband. Although the inner treasure is missing, the egg probably held twelve miniature paintings of the Alexander III. The egg is covered in diamonds, gold, diamonds, blue enamel, diamonds, and diamonds. There might also be some diamonds on there.
This egg was also made for Maria Feodorovna. Called the Catherine the Great or grisaille egg, it was delivered in 1914 and originally contained a wind-up toy. The toy, described in a letter at the time, consisted of a tiny Catherine the Great seated in a sedan chair held aloft by two North African men. When wound, the toy would move as though being carried forward. The egg itself is covered in elaborate goldwork and miniatures featuring Catherine the Great. This egg resides at Hillwood Museum.
The Walters Museum of Art in Baltimore has 2 eggs, including one that holds a whole tiny golden palace. Another Fabergé egg is nested with the Cleveland Museum of Art, and another in a Fabergé museum in Baden-Baden, Germany.
The remainder of the eggs are held by private parties. Fortunately, they are usually pretty generous with them.
Who could possibly afford a Fabergé egg?
Most of these eggs were bought off the Bolsheviks, who sold them for very little. Many of the people, or their foundations, who have a set of eggs have simply been holding onto them since the 1920s or 1930s, when they acquired them. This is the case with the Matilda Geddings Gray Foundation, the Royal Collection, the Kremlin Armory, Marjorie Merriweather Post and her estate at Hillwood, and, until recently, Malcom Forbes and family.
Some chose to donate their treasures to museums, but others preferred to keep it in the family. In 2004, the Forbes family decided to offer their collection at auction. The auction included 9 imperial eggs, two non-imperial Fabergé eggs, and an assortment of other Fabergé crafts.
The 1897 coronation egg is the crown of the Forbes collection. If you search 'Fabergé' on the internet, this is usually the first egg to pop up. Made of gold, multiple colors of enamel, and the usual stunning assortment of jewels, this egg contains is a tiny golden coach. In a gesture that must have charmed Czarina Alexandra, the little vehicle is an exact replica of the one she rode to the coronation of her husband, Nicholas II. In 2004, Sotheby's expected the egg to bring as much as $24 million at auction.
However, everyone had a shock when Victor Vekselberg cancelled the Forbes' auction by purchasing the entire bounty of imperial eggs and other Fabergé artifacts for an estimated $100 million. Vekselberg, a fossil fuel baron and one of the four richest people in Russia, said he was happy to be able to return Russia's treasures, and to his credit, last November (11/2013) he opened the Fabergé Museum in St. Petersburg.
Supposedly. I actually can't find any news of it after November. But it's probably still there. Travel sites report that ticketing is random and expensive, no children are allowed, and the museum catch-all email is 3332655@fsv.ru, a welcoming address if I've ever seen one. The museum website at FSV is barren save for a brief history of the eggs and their acquisition. There is nothing about times or tickets. On the positive side, the museum is on a river, so if you do get tickets, it should be pretty easy to find your body.
The cockerel egg, acquired by Vekselberg as part of the Forbes' collection, was crafted in 1900 and presented to Nicholas' mother. In addition to the beautiful clock and base, the egg itself is a nearly opalescent blue. The cockerel at top usually resides within the egg, protected by the gold filigree cap. When a button at the top rear of the egg is pushed, the cockerel comes flapping out and crows, much in the style of a cuckoo clock, before retreating back inside the egg.
Although they may cluster in America and Russia, the eggs are not afraid of Africa. Sheikh Saud al-Thani, cousin of the ruling Emir in Qatar, is another wealthy egg-sitter and insatiable art collector. Between 1998 and 2005, he spent $1 billion, managing to nab Islamic treasure, Western paintings, vintage photographs, and a single Fabergé egg. In 2005, angry family members put the artistic sheikh on house arrest, charging him with embezzlement, and the egg--the Winter egg, Qatar's only Fabergé egg--vanished from public view. This is doubly unfortunate because it is my favorite egg.
The Winter egg, crafted in 1913 for the mother of Nicholas II, was last seen in the hands of Sheikh Saud al-Thani. In 2002, he purchased the egg at Christie's in New York for $9.5 million. Out of all the imperial eggs, this one cost the most to produce. The egg is made of thinly carved rock crystal, with snowflakes etched inside. Outside, the egg is frosted with platinum and studded with rose diamonds. The base is also rock crystal, carved into a lifelike melting glacier, with its own shimmering panoply of platinum and rose diamonds. A platinum basket of carved wood anemones make up this egg's surprise. With leaves of nephrite (a form of jade), petals of white quartz, and stamens of gold and garnets, this basket is a tiny wonder. A staggering 3,246 diamonds adorn the egg and its base.
The Prince of Monaco has the 1887 Blue Serpent Clock egg, but since it was prized by his late mother, the prince tends to keep it to himself. The remaining four eggs belong to four different private parties, and they are typically generous with tours and exhibitions. The purchaser of the golden egg discovered March 2014 is an exception. The mystery buyer has given no indication that he or his egg will come out in the open anytime soon.
The eggs are hard to find and harder to see. Museums do not always have them on display, and private parties are touch and go when granting public access to imperial Fabergé eggs. If you want to see an egg, there's really no substitute for personal ownership, as Victor Vekselberg would probably agree.
Next up: Eggs of a Falling Czar
Note
I pulled from many sources, mostly news or history sites, in building this series. I've credited many of them here. Some pictures may be uncredited because I could not identify their origin.
Sources
