A real happy doll

This doll was beaming. Her face had an eternal expression of cheeriness that I had not seen often. She looked ready to lighten up any child’s play: A big smile, bright eyes, open arms holding a small bunny.

I almost passed right by her, propped up there on a table against a wall at a new auction house I was checking out. I picked up the happy doll to examine her up close.

She wore a peach-colored satin dress with scoops and ribbons at the bottom, and matching underpants. Her two short curly ponytails were tied in an upsweep. She was barefeet – her toenails and fingernails were even painted the color of her dress – and her shoes were missing. Her head, arms and legs were made of porcelain and her body was a soft fabric, the stitching still tight. In fact, when I gripped her middle to pick her up, the softness gave in a little to my fingertips. The little doll also had some heft.

I unfastened her dress at the neck in the back to search for her maker’s name. Inscribed on her upper back (this is where you can usually find it) were the words:

Linda Murray
AEL 2003

I had never heard of this doll-maker so I was intrigued. I’d begun to notice dolls a lot more after attending a black doll show and sale in Philadelphia earlier this year. There, I met some amazing African American doll-makers and learned about a black man named Leo Moss, who made black dolls in my hometown of Macon, GA, at the turn of the 20^th century.

At this auction, the pink-flesh doll was among a grouping that included at least two black dolls: An infant doll whose skin mimicked the wrinkled appearance of a newborn and a small-child doll dressed in a red-and-white plaid dress with dark green accents, and wearing a dark green tam. She was still in her metal doll stand. I can only assume that these dolls were part of someone’s collection.

At auction, most of them sold for less than $5. The doll with the cheery face sold for $6.

I wanted to know more about the doll-maker so I found a quiet spot at the auction house, pulled out my Droid and Googled. I could only find the doll on eBay (where it sold for $10 and $25), and learned that it was made by a British artist named Linda Murray.

The doll was named “Abbie,” which is my mother’s name. She was 23″ tall, and was part of the Visions of Seasons Collection that Murray had created for a company named Paradise Galleries. She came with the stuffed bunny, and was made of porcelain and cloth. The site, by the way, offered tips on caring for a porcelain doll, along with other advice on doll-collecting.

Along with losing her fabric shoes, Abbie was also missing her white bonnet.

Murray’s sculpted dolls were very realistic-looking and very “life-like,” as several sites noted. Some of the dolls were so life-like that it was eerie.

She started out making cloth and rag dolls for charities and her own children, according to shellbebecreations.com. Now, she works primarily for doll-manufacturing companies to craft dolls in limited editions (they come with certificates of authenticity). Her dolls have won a number of major international awards, according to Paradise Galleries.

She makes all kinds of dolls, including black and Asian dolls, breast cancer support dolls and an Obama doll. You can see some of Murray’s dolls here, including two baby-monkey dolls.

Murray’s dolls apparently are very collectible and, according to what I found on the web, they sell for low and high prices – ranging from around $30 to $3,000 on retail sites. A doll named Mia was selling for $2,399 (it was out of stock, though, and was listed as one of a kind); Eloise, $1,499 with a retail value of $3,000, and Emma, $1,700.

Here are some of her multicultural dolls that were selling for $99 to $150. They all seemed to be new editions rather than classics that were out of production.

These included: Brianne (at right); Aisha and Ali, artist proofs (explained here); Baby Cheung and Ling, who were said to be anatomically correct; Baby Jordan and Grace; Jada, whose blanket played “Amazing Grace”; Joshua, whose blanket played “Everything is Beautiful,” and Imani, whose blanket played “Jesus Loves Me.”