Last month, I had the chance to visit Schedel Arboretum & Gardens in Elmore, Ohio, about 21 miles southeast of Toledo. Now operated by the nonprofit Schedel Foundation, the 17-acre estate was once the home of Joe and Marie Schedel. Passionate travelers, the Schedels visited more than 120 countries and, along the way, assembled remarkable collections of art, antiques, jewelry, carved jade, archaic bronze, and – perhaps most notably – plants.
In addition to its beautifully landscaped arboretum and gardens, the property is also home to the Blair Museum of Lithophanes. Founded by Toledo native Laurel Gotshall Blair (1909–1993), an avid traveler much like the Schedels, the museum houses what became the world’s largest collection of lithophanes, with more than 3,000 pieces.
The term lithophane, derived from the Greek words litho (stone) and phainein (to make visible), refers to a three-dimensional translucent porcelain plaque that reveals detailed images when illuminated from behind. These plaques, produced in a variety of shapes – including rectangular, square, and oval – have been used for decorative and functional purposes such as candle screens, table panels, lamp shades, and night lights. Lithophanes originated in early 19th century Europe, with French diplomat Baron Paul de Bourgoin generally credited for developing the modern production technique, which he patented in 1827.
Lithophanes were rarely the work of a single, well-known artist in the modern sense. Instead, they were typically produced by teams of skilled- though largely anonymous – engravers and porcelain craftsmen working within major European factories. While lithophanes were made across several countries, Germany quickly emerged as the dominant center of production, led by the Königliche Porzellan‑Manufaktur (KPM) in Berlin, the most influential producer of the 19th century.
As I browsed the collection of lithophanes, I was surprised to find several beer steins with lithophanes embedded in their bases. Although I had encountered many steins before – often in antique shops – I had never seen one featuring this distinctive element. Before examining the connection between lithophanes and beer steins, however, it is useful to begin with a brief overview of the steins themselves.
The term stein is a shortened form of the German word Steinzeugkrug, meaning a stoneware jug or tankard. Over time, however, this term became associated with a distinctive style of drinking vessel. What distinguishes beer steins from other drinking vessels is their design, which typically includes both a handle and a hinged lid. Their development is linked to the public health measures that followed the bubonic plague, which killed millions of Europeans in the 14th century. Because the disease was spread by fleas carried by rodents, authorities in parts of what is now Germany introduced hygiene regulations requiring that food and drink containers be covered- leading to the characteristic lidded design of the beer stein. During this same period – specifically in 1516 – the Reinheitsgebot, or Bavarian Purity Law, was enacted. This regulation limited the ingredients of beer to just three: water, barley, and hops, with the goal of preventing the use of harmful or potentially toxic additives.
The incorporation of lithophanes into beer steins dates to the late nineteenth century, when advances in porcelain manufacturing made increasingly sophisticated decorative techniques possible. By this period, lithophanes had become especially common in regimental (military) steins, which were often commissioned by soldiers as commemorative pieces marking their service. The images themselves varied widely. Many were playful – or even risqué – featuring nude figures or couples in suggestive poses, while others were more sentimental, depicting domestic scenes such as a sweetheart reading a letter or convivial moments in a tavern. Today, these steins are highly valued by collectors, with authentic pre‑1914 regimental examples typically commanding prices in the range of $300 to $1,200.
In the end, what made the visit so memorable was not just the scale of the Blair Museum’s collection, but the way it revealed connections between art, beer, and everyday life. The lithophanes embedded in these beer steins – hidden from view until the beer is consumed – offer a fitting metaphor for the experience itself: unexpected details emerging only when one looks a little closer. What might at first seem like a simple object becomes a window into nineteenth‑century technology, aesthetics, and social customs. Set within the tranquil setting of the Schedel Arboretum & Gardens, the museum serves as a reminder that even in quiet corners of northwest Ohio, one can encounter artifacts that illuminate a much broader cultural and historical landscape.