Collectors’ Counsel

Limbert revealed

2012-01-26T15:56:00.000-08:00

I picked up this Charles Limbert oval table at a yard sale. It had been painted black, which I found out is a better color to strip off than white. The woman told me her son had painted it to go in his apartment; he planned to cut down the legs to make it into a coffee table, but never got around to it! I stripped it and had a friend who is a woodworker help me get a smooth, satin finish on it. I tried to go online and do some research on the table and on Limbert, but didn’t find much. Was I looking in the wrong direction? —Christine, Rockford, Ill.

Unlike self-promoters such as Gustav Stickley and Elbert Hubbard, businessmen like Charles Limbert, Leopold Stickley and William Grueby avoided the limelight, tending to business instead of writing articles, making speeches and publishing magazines. As a result, we know far less about them.

Patricia Bartinique wrote an exhibition catalog in 1995 entitled Kindred Styles: The Arts and Crafts Furniture of Charles P. Limbert. You might be able to find a copy on eBay. Although printed in black and white, the information it contains goes beyond that found in the reprints of his catalogs or the general surveys of the period.

Your table, model #158, is referred to as a “double-oval” table, as its lower shelf mimics the shape of the oval top. The form and the cutouts are directly modeled after a Charles Rennie Mackintosh table from 1902, which was widely publicized in art magazines of the era.

Limbert’s factory produced a wide variety of Arts and Crafts styles, ranging from inexpensive plank-seat dining chairs and bolted porch furniture to massive sideboards and china cabinets. Pieces like yours, with similar cutouts and a Vienna Secessionist look to them, are among the most desirable. In recent years, most model #158 tables with their original finish have sold for between $5,000 and $8,000 at Arts and Crafts auctions.

London assurance

2012-01-26T15:52:00.001-08:00

I recently purchased this hall tree. I’m looking for help identifying the designer or manufacturer, and finding out when it may have been produced. —Bruce, Thousand Oaks, Calif.

The design elements of your oak hall tree—from the overhanging beveled cornices and copper inserts to the cast-iron coat hooks and drawer hardware with Mackintosh-inspired square cutouts—immediately made me think it came from England. An antiques dealer in London agreed, adding that it appeared to have been made around 1910–20 by Harris Lebus, a large furniture manufacturer formerly located in London.

Harris Lebus produced a good deal of bedroom and living room furniture for retail stores, which explains the absence of a consistent shop mark identifying their work. Although they remained in business until 1969, most collectors feel their Arts and Crafts–inspired pieces are among their best in terms of both design and craftsmanship.

While most of their furniture was produced for their English clientele, in recent years it has been exported to the United States to meet our growing demand for Arts and Crafts furnishings. As evidence of the respect shown for the work of Harris Lebus, it is not unusual to find their furniture offered next to that of Stickley, Roycroft and Limbert in major Arts and Crafts auctions and shows.

Identity crisis

2012-01-26T15:52:00.000-08:00

We bought a sideboard that had been in someone’s basement for 46 years. They think it may be a Stickley #814½ sideboard. We can’t find any Stickley marks on it, but there is a red-stamped letter “K” on the back. Any idea whether it is a Stickley or not? The weirdest part is the lock on the bottom linen drawer (a Corbin Cabinet Lock from New Britain, Conn.). Why put a lock on a linen drawer? We don’t really care if the piece is valuable, we’re just glad it’s not in a basement anymore. —Ingrid, Cedar Hills, Utah

With or without a Stickley shop mark, your sideboard is certainly a model #814½ made by the Craftsman Workshops. Model #814 was 66 inches wide and featured a pair of pulls on each drawer; #814½ was 56 inches wide and had a single pull on each of the three center drawers. The strap hinges, drawer pulls and plate rail are as distinctly Gustav Stickley as his red signature decal, so there is no need to worry about the lack of a shop mark.

The lock on the bottom drawer is unusual and may not be original, but certainly is not disturbing. While it could have been a special request sent to the Stickley factory in Syracuse, it more likely was added by a later owner who, perhaps, stored sterling silver there.

The circular red stamp on the back with the large letter “K” and the nearly indecipherable word above it is unusual. It appears to say “INSPECTED.” Since none of the Arts and Crafts furniture experts I contacted had ever seen this mark, it seems reasonable to assume the sideboard had been given this stamp of approval sometime after it left the Stickley factory—perhaps as it was being unloaded at a retail furniture store. In 1912, Craftsman furniture was sold in at least two stores beginning with the letter K: Fred W. Keisker & Son in Louisville, Ky., and Frederick Keer’s Sons in Newark, N.J. In recent years, model #814½ sideboards have been selling at auction in the $3,000–$4,000 range, provided they are in excellent condition.

Purse pursuit

2012-01-25T13:07:00.000-08:00

I have a small ladies’ tooled-leather purse with a braided strap that I picked up at a church bazaar. It is in near-perfect condition with lacing around the edges and tooling on one side. The metal latch is marked “TURNLOC,” and inside the strap I found the words “Art Craft” and the letters “BNP.” Can you tell me anything about it? —Leigh, Dallas, Texas

The legion of tanneries and harness makers in Springfield, Ohio, spawned a number of Arts and Crafts leather shops, including the Hugo Bosca Company founded in 1913. Hugo Bosca had emigrated from Italy and employed many European-trained leatherworkers. By 1930 his staff had grown to more than 130 workers, producing a wide variety of leatherware, from ladies’ purses and card cases to luggage tags and men’s billfolds.

Over the years the firm merged with other leather companies, prompting minor changes in their shop marks. The “BNP” stands for Bosca-Nelson-Pryor and dates it to the mid-twenties. TURNLOC refers to the J.E. Mergott Company of Newark, N.J., which made metal frames and latches for numerous leather firms.

As a testament to the foundation built by Hugo Bosca, who died in 1952, his firm is still operating today, selling quality leather goods through major retail stores. For additional information on this and other Arts and Crafts leather firms, consult Artistic Leather of the Arts and Crafts Era by Daniel Lees.

Money matters

2011-10-18T12:26:00.000-07:00

Style 1900 archives

How have Arts and Crafts antiques fared during the recent recession? Will the recent decrease in prices be permanent? Are Arts and Crafts pieces still considered a good investment? –Carl, Evanston, Ill.

Unlike shares of BP or Starbucks, antiques are bought by the heart, not by following an analyst’s rating or a P/E ratio. Having said that, who among us has not flipped through an auction catalog searching for the current estimates and sales results for pieces we own?

In truth, antiques are commodities. They are bought and sold both privately and through public auctions. As such, they are affected by economic conditions as much as they are by factors such as design and condition.

A Wall Street analyst once commented that 50 percent of a company’s stock price is determined by the current state of the economy, 25 percent by the performance of the other stocks in the same category or sector, and 25 percent by the condition of the company itself.

Antiques are not much different. During the recent recession, demand dropped and prices plummeted as people opted to accumulate cash savings until they were confident the economic crisis had passed. As soon as their confidence returned, they began looking for bargains, just like people who invest in stocks and real estate.

An antique's value is affected by its category. For example: Within the realm of Arts and Crafts furniture, the bookcase sector will, in analysts’ words, outperform beds and rocking chairs. When was the last time you said, “I wish I had an Arts and Crafts daybed or sewing rocker”?

Bookcases are the darlings of Arts and Crafts collectors. We can put them in any room of the house, filling them with metalware, leatherwork, art pottery—even books. As a result, the value of bookcases did not drop as dramatically during the recession and have been among the first to make the climb back to prerecession prices.

And then there is condition. If a company is carrying too much debt or its CEO has leadership issues, its stock will be downgraded. The same applies to a Rookwood vase with a hairline crack or a Stickley desk with a new finish. An antique with condition issues will never be worth as much as one with no damage, no repairs and an original finish.

So can you buy an Arts and Crafts antique with both your heart and your investment portfolio in mind? Absolutely. First, study the sector it falls under, avoiding those with lagging demand. Second, inspect the piece closely and assess its condition. Finally, let yourself fall in love with the design.

One last, well-versed quote: “Profit is determined in the buying, not the selling.”

Student pieces are a Thrifty alternative

2011-10-17T11:48:00.000-07:00

I picked up this hammered-copper plate for $10 at a local flea market. It has a late–Arts and Crafts look to it. Barely visible on the back is a stamped impression of a metalworker hammering at his bench below the words “Penland, NC.” Any idea when this was made and by whom? The quality isn’t the greatest, but it certainly has the look. –Jim, Shreveport, La.

A key component in the Arts and Crafts movement was training in the manual arts, whether it was through schools, clubs, societies, rehabilitation hospitals or even prisons. In 1923 in Penland, N.C. (not far from Asheville), Lucy Morgan started Penland Weavers, a program designed to teach Appalachian women how to make and market handwoven cloth.

By 1930, Morgan had added other training classes in crafts, including metalsmithing, at what was now known as the Penland School of Handicrafts. Students of all ages could attend summer classes, where many learned coppersmithing, as evidenced by your plate. As you would expect, the quality of the work varied according to the student’s skill, but you cannot fault their enthusiasm and dedication to the Arts and Crafts ideal. At a time when prices for well-known metalsmiths are skyrocketing, adding inexpensive examples from manual arts classes is an economical way to flesh out your Arts and Crafts collection.

Here is a sampling of other manual arts training programs whose Arts and Crafts jewelry and metalwork could be languishing in shops and flea markets simply because few people know anything about them:

The Elverhoj Colony of Artists and Craftsmen: According to a 1916 advertisement, this institution on the Hudson River near Milton, N.Y., offered summer classes in jewelry and “advanced metal craft.” Students were also tempted with “fishing and bathing in the Hudson River.” Hammered copper wares and jewelry from this program bear the impressed mark ELVERHOJ.

The Handicraft Guild of Minneapolis: Operating from 1904 until 1918, the Handicraft Guild, according to a 1912 brochure, was organized “for the advancement of art interests, especially in the handicrafts.” Instructors, including famed tile maker Ernest Batchelder, taught pottery and metalsmithing courses that produced hammered silver and copper bowls, trays, lamps and desk accessories. Their metalwork was often stamped HANDICRAFT GUILD/MINNEAPOLIS or bore the conjoined letters HG.

Northland College Craft Shop: After the onslaught of the Great Depression, a group of individuals at Northland College in Ashland, Wis.—apparently inspired by the Roycrofters—created metalsmith and pottery workshops on campus. Students were able to both learn their craft and raise money for their education through the sale of wares such as hammered copper trays and bookends. Most were marked with an impressed pine tree and the word NORTHLAND.

The Handicraft Shop: After the formation of Boston’s Society of Arts and Crafts at the end of the 19th century, its members operated the Handicraft Shop from 1901 until the Second World War. In the beginning, instructors were hired to teach leatherwork, woodworking and metalworking. But by 1906 their efforts were exclusively devoted to copper, sterling silver and gold jewelry, enamelware, flatware and hollowware. Many notable craftsmen and craftswomen worked, taught or sold their wares through the Handicraft Shop.

Some, such as silversmith and jeweler Mary Knight, stamped their own marks beside the Handicraft Shop’s mark: an anvil flanked by the letters H and S, occasionally placed alongside the year the piece was made. Less talented—but every bit as dedicated—students produced their own work at the Handicraft Shop, much of which only bears the anvil mark.

Friend or faux?

2011-10-17T11:44:00.000-07:00

We bought an unsigned ceramic vase in a thrift shop. It appears valuable, and we were hoping to discover more about it. It is matte green and is decorated with four salamanders crawling up to four roots coming down from the top of the vase. The very top appears to be a large hydrangea. –Paul, Santa Rosa Beach, Fla.

I forwarded your question to pottery expert David Rago, and this was his response:

This is one of the new pots (probably from China) approximating some of the major American work from the Arts and Crafts period. I’ve handled some of these and seen them walk into Antiques Roadshow, and I’m afraid they’re making the rounds at estate sales and thrift shops. They are not bad copies, but usually have a much heavier hand and poorer glazing than the originals. The bottoms are made to look old, but they have been made mostly in the last decade. Bloomingdale’s, for example, sells some of these contemporary reproductions.

The real thing is usually marked. Buyers should compare against photos of period pieces for a sense of proportion and overall quality.

Where the buys are

2011-07-25T06:25:00.002-07:00

Since the current Arts and Crafts revival began a few decades ago, we’ve seen prices soar on most objects. Are there any undiscovered or underappreciated areas of Arts and Crafts design that you predict will become hot commodities in the coming years? –Sonia, Issaquah, Wash.

It never fails. As soon as one area or time period within a field of collecting becomes too rare to find or too expensive to own, collectors seek out similar examples that have not yet escalated in value.

Arts and Crafts is no exception. There are lesser-known companies that are already attracting more attention and that will continue to grow in popularity. Before naming names, however, one important rule to note: The rarest, finest and most valuable examples with the greatest potential will always be those with no damage to their original form, finish, glaze or patina.

A J.M. Young Company Morris chair.
Style 1900 archives

Furniture: Stickley Brothers is still underappreciated, but you have to choose carefully, for their prolific output was laced with some awkward designs and non–Arts and Crafts styles. I would also include the J.M. Young Company, which produced Arts and Crafts furniture as early as 1902 and effectively took over Arts and Crafts production from L. & J.G. Stickley after 1922, continuing to make quality furniture into the 1940s. Their Morris chairs are on a par with any of the Stickleys.


Hampshire Pottery. Style 1900 archives

Art Pottery: Undecorated Marblehead, notable for its elegant design and matte glazes, will increase in popularity, along with Van Briggle pottery made between 1912 and 1920. Can’t afford Grueby? Search out Hampshire Pottery, where they actually developed a matte green glaze four years prior to William Grueby. Shunned by collectors because it was formed in molds, Hampshire’s best examples will follow in the footsteps of Teco, another pottery once ignored because it was made in molds.

Karl Kipp for Roycroft.
Style 1900 archives

Metalware: Collectors will still pay more for a piece of production Roycroft metalware than they will for one stamped with the back-to-back letter K’s of their chief designer, Karl Kipp. He only used his personal stamp for a few years (1911–15), but those bearing Kipp’s mark should escalate in value faster than standard Roycroft. Add to this the work of Heintz Art Metal Shop. Larger pieces with their trademark green patina and sterling silver overlay are destined to increase in value.

Mystery clock

2011-07-25T06:25:00.001-07:00

Several years ago I purchased an Arts and Crafts grandfather clock from a nice little Arts and Crafts home in New Jersey. The clock has been refinished but is in perfect working condition. I am hoping someone may know the maker. –Toby, Lewisburg, Pa.

Arts and Crafts grandfather clocks (often called “tall case clocks”) usually fall into one of two categories: 1) extremely rare, well-designed, well-constructed clocks made by Gustav Stickley, L. & J.G. Stickley and the Roycrofters; or 2) very common, poorly-designed, cheaply-made, open-sided clocks that were little more than four tall posts with a face at the top. Your clock is the exception.

Quality clocks such as yours were often made by clock companies wanting to cash in on the popularity of the Arts and Crafts style. They paid homage to the style with such details as exposed and keyed tenons (although they may have been glued on), pegged joints and panel construction. What they cared less about, however, was attaching a shop mark to their work.

Some companies, such as the Gunlocke Chair Company (Wayland, N.Y.) and the Imperial Furniture Company (Grand Rapids, Mich.), included tall case clocks in their selections and would have been more likely to sign their work. Your clock’s refinishing may account for the lack of a shop mark, as fragile decals stand no chance against stripper and sandpaper.

The unique design of the feet and the top of the posts on your clock, plus the quality face and numerals, will ultimately identify which firm made your clock. Hopefully one of our readers knows of a clock with the same design detail that still retains its shop mark.

Dating pull

2011-07-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

I recently acquired a small Gustav Stickley library table which, unlike my Gus bookcase, has hammered iron pulls instead of hammered copper. Does Gustav Stickley furniture with iron hardware predate those with copper? Also, I thought I read that iron hardware can react chemically with oak. Is that true? –Chris, Centerville, Pa.

It is true, as evidenced by the long, black streak running down from the iron pull on my Stickley bookcase. Iron can react with the tannin found in oak, especially if the hardware becomes wet. The Roycrofters, among others, knew this and actually brushed a mixture of rusty water onto raw oak for a weathered, aged-ebony appearance.

Gustav Stickley used iron, brass and copper pulls throughout his 15-year career as an Arts and Crafts furniture maker. While his very earliest pulls were made of iron, these were of a different style from the one on your library table. Stickley’s earliest iron pulls show file marks along the edges rather than hammer marks.

Having said this, the pulls Stickley used on library tables, bookcases, china cabinets, dressers and desks did not vary much, and there doesn’t appear to be a reliable and consistent means of determining the date of manufacture by the metal in the pull.

A more reliable means of dating is by the style of shop mark on your table, plus design characteristics reflected in his sales catalogs, where pieces and their dimensions were illustrated.

For a more complete discussion of Stickley hardware and shop marks, I recommend David Cathers’ book Furniture of the American Arts and Crafts Movement.

Condition Vs. Cost

2011-06-15T09:35:00.001-07:00

How much wear and damage are “acceptable” when shopping for Arts and Crafts furniture?

It often comes down to two criteria: how much the piece costs and how much wear you can live with. The rarest Arts and Crafts furnishings are those that have retained their original color and finish in near-perfect condition.

As a piece loses its color and finish, picking up wear and damage, the value drops. At some point each collector decides what, for him or her, is the acceptable balance between condition and cost. Normal wear, such as worn arms and chair rungs, rounded table edges and a few chips around the feet of bookcases and cabinets, are acceptable, even at the top range of values. When “wear” becomes “damage,” though, a price adjustment should follow.

While buying Arts and Crafts furniture as an investment is risky, we all would like to think that any piece we buy will be worth even more if we sell it later. Experience has proven that those pieces with the least amount of wear, no damage and no repairs, are the ones that will appreciate the most.

Leather Report

2011-06-15T09:35:00.000-07:00

When determining the value of Arts and Crafts furniture, how critical is the original leather upholstery on chairs and tabletops? I would rather have new leather that I can use without it tearing or flaking, but that seems to reduce its value.

Since the beginning of the current revival, media attention has focused on the prices paid for Arts and Crafts furniture that retains 100 percent of its original parts, color and finish. But ownership of one of these rare, fragile masterworks comes with responsibility.

Each time I have owned a chair with its original (and always dry and brittle) drop-in leather upholstery, I have had to carefully remove, wrap and store the leather cushions and have new cushions made that we could use with a clear conscience.
Original leather, even if worn, stained and torn, substantially increases the value of a Stickley table and should never be replaced. If that makes it impractical in your household, then do as many have done: Sell the piece to a collector whose home is more of a museum. Odds are, the proceeds will allow you to buy a couple of pieces with replacement leather that you can actually use.

Leaving A Ring

2011-06-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

How can I remove a “ring” from the top of my Arts and Crafts table?

The original shellac finish can represent as much as a third of the value of an Arts and Crafts antique. My advice is: leave it alone. Attempting to buff out or to chemically remove a white ring in that fragile finish can easily and quickly cause permanent damage—and may do more to reduce its attractiveness and value than the blemish.

White rings are caused by excessive moisture absorbed by an aging or weak finish. Black rings occur when the moisture has penetrated the shellac and reacted with the tannins in the wood. Black rings are semi-permanent, as they can only be removed with sanding or bleaching. Fresh white rings occasionally evaporate by themselves, if not coated with any wax or polish.

Abide by the old medical adage: “First, do no harm.” Then give the stain some time to evaporate on its own. While you’re waiting, buy an Arts and Crafts table runner to hide the blemish.

Hole In One

2011-04-19T12:00:00.001-07:00

I found a large Van Briggle vase with a quarter-inch hole drilled in the bottom. I’m assuming it had been drilled for an electrical cord. How much would that affect the value?

Some Arts and Crafts pottery was originally designed with a hole for a lamp cord to pass through. These lamp bases are relatively easy to identify, as the edges of the hole will be rounded and coated with the glaze. A hole that was drilled later (below) will generally have sharp, unglazed edges and may even have chips created by the drill bit. Original lamp cord holes will seldom deter a knowledgeable pottery collector.

A nonoriginal drilled hole will affect the value of the vase, but the amount of the reduction is going to be influenced by at least three factors. First is the rarity of the piece. Like any minor damage, a hole drilled in a large, monumental, rare Grueby vase is going to have less effect on its value than the same hole in a more common piece of molded Rookwood or Van Briggle pottery.

Second is the location of the hole. A hole drilled in the bottom is less obvious than one drilled in the side, and will result in a smaller reduction in value. Finally, the condition of the piece must also be considered. If the piece has other damage, then the addition of a drilled hole is not going to have a dramatic impact on the price.

Meddling With Metal

2011-04-19T11:24:00.001-07:00

I know that refinishing or even restoring an original finish decreases the value of a piece of Arts and Crafts furniture, but what about a new finish on metalware? I have seen pieces in auctions and shows described as having a “new patina.” Does that affect the value as significantly as refinishing does to a piece of furniture? How do you know if a piece has been repatinated?

On a rare, very significant piece of Arts and Crafts metalware, a new patina would be as detrimental to the value as a new finish would be to a rare, very significant piece of Arts and Crafts furniture. While the form and the craftsmanship would not have been compromised, the loss of the original finish would knock it out of the top spot.

On more common forms, the effect does not seem to be as dramatic, provided, of course, that the new patina has been expertly applied by a skilled craftsperson. Unlocking the secret to an original Dirk van Erp or Roycroft Copper Shop patina, however, has not been easy. Many patina formulas went to the grave with their originators, in part because they were considered unimportant at the time. Craftspeople that have successfully duplicated an original Arts and Crafts patina have developed their formulas and techniques only after hundreds of hours of experimentation and failed attempts. Once perfected, these new patinas are nearly impossible to detect, especially after the piece has had a few years to pick up some of the wear we expect to find on an original finish.

The first step in detecting a new patina is to compare it to the patina on a piece known to have been made by the same workshop in the same era. Patinas varied not only from workshop to workshop, but from year to year within each shop. Experimentation never stopped, as craftspeople worked to create new forms and finishes for their audience. To be accurate, the comparison must be made between like forms.

Second, inspect the wear, especially on the bottom and the inside of forms. One hundred years of use has to have left signs of natural wear, from scratches on the underside to worn areas around pulls. If you look closely, you can detect the difference in wear between a century of handling and a few minutes with a pad of steel wool.

Limbert Variations

2011-01-25T09:39:00.000-08:00

Attached are photos of a quartersawn-oak Arts and Crafts stand that I recently purchased at auction. Can you shed any light on its origin? I believe a similar stand is pictured in the upper righthand corner of page 39 in the Winter 2009–10 issue of Style 1900. –Bob, Fairport, N.Y.

As soon as I saw your oak plant stand I thought of Charles Limbert, and a quick glance through one of the reprinted Limbert catalogs revealed a similar design. Stand no. 239, measuring 28 inches high with a top that is 18 inches square, looks very much like yours. There is a difference in the cutouts, but that could be attributed to a variation that was not cataloged. The Limbert craftsmen typically signed their furniture with either a brand or a paper label, which I assume you have already searched for. If your piece was refinished, the paper label could have been destroyed in the process. Sometimes glue residue will remain as evidence. The problem with any unsigned piece, of course, is that another firm could have copied the Limbert design, made a few changes, and pronounced it their own. Every major manufacturer, from Gustav Stickley to Charles Limbert, often saw subtle variations in their designs produced by their competitors. If you do additional research into Limbert, you may come upon an illustration or photograph of a plant stand identical to yours that happens to be signed. In most cases, that will suffice as proof that, indeed, your plant stand was made in the factory of Charles Limbert. Good Luck!

Bridging the Gap

2011-01-25T09:38:00.000-08:00

I’ve had this old oak rocker for more than 20 years and didn’t realize until today that it had an original label on the back. The label is too faded to read even with a magnifying glass, but its shape is quite clear. I’m wondering if you can help me identify the maker. –Anne, Grand Rapids, Mich

Your rocker is an excellent example of what is referred to as a “transitional” piece. In this case, it is bridging the gap between the more ornate Victorian era and the more severe Arts and Crafts period. The manufacturer of this chair borrowed the curved arms and front legs from the Victorian era, but left behind the carved headrest we often find in furniture made prior to 1900. The manufacturer borrowed the quartersawn oak, leather upholstery and brass tacks from Arts and Crafts designers. Chairs like yours were relatively well-constructed, extremely comfortable, affordable and, for all of those reasons, very popular. While your label might have faded in the sunlight,
it’s safe to assume the rocker was made by one of the larger furniture manufacturers of the early 20th century, such as Berkey & Gay in Grand Rapids, Mich., or S. Karpen and Bros. or Hartman Furniture & Carpet Company in Chicago. Since it’s a transitional piece, you might assume it was made at the beginning of the Arts and Crafts era, but that was not always the case. Throughout the Arts and Crafts era some manufacturers (and homeowners!) simply found Arts and Crafts too plain for their tastes, so elements from both periods were combined well into the 1920s.

Medium Rare

2011-01-25T07:05:00.001-08:00

I found several old magazines in a trunk in my grandparents’ attic, including an issue of The Craftsman from June of 1910, which was the month and year they were married. It’s in very good condition and I have no intention of selling it, but am wondering how rare it is. I’m not an Arts and Crafts collector, but I enjoy reading your magazine and seeing all the wonderful pieces people collect. –Donna, Hanover, N.H

Donna, I think you just became an Arts and Crafts collector. Two of the most well-known names in the Arts and Crafts movement, Gustav Stickley and Elbert Hubbard, found good reason to publish their own magazines: to spread the Arts and Crafts gospel, to promote the furniture, books and metalware produced in their shops, and to make money. Stickley’s magazine, The Craftsman, was published from October 1901 through December 1915. While circulation figures are sketchy, Stickley stated around 1907 that he was publishing 16,000 copies a month. Enough have survived to keep it from being considered as rare as his furniture, but Arts and Crafts collectors do enjoy having a few issues on their tabletops. Individual copies of The Craftsman tend to sell in the $45–$85 range, with notable exceptions. Like most magazines, condition is critical and earlier editions are among the most sought after, along with those with an artistic color cover designed by a recognizable artist.

America Gothic

2011-01-25T06:51:00.001-08:00

What can you tell me about this chair? Underneath the seat, someone wrote in pencil, “PS 123 Brooklyn L.J. Young.” –John, Point Pleasant, Pa

This chair could be titled “English Gothic meets American Arts and Crafts.” It feels like two different chairs to me. The lower half seems influenced by Gustav Stickley, what with the wide stretchers, square legs, quartersawn oak, and what would originally have been a wraparound leather seat. Up above, however, we find this tall, Mackintosh-inspired form capped with a Gothic crest rail and punctuated with a carved coat of arms. The minute I saw it I was reminded of a period photograph that was taken in the workshop of the Rochester Athenaeum and Mechanics Institute. What struck me about that photo was the number of well-made pieces of Arts and Crafts furniture in various stages of production being made by the students. Then, when I saw the signature written by hand on the underside of your chair’s seat, I knew the answer: The scrawled notation “PS 123 Brooklyn” stood for Public School 123, located at 100 Irving Ave. in Brooklyn, N.Y. I suspect the signer, L.J. Young, was a student at the school who made your chair in a class. While what you have did not come from one of the major Arts and Crafts workshops, it does represent the spirit of the Arts and Crafts movement: head, heart and hand.

Where the Buffalo Roam

2010-10-20T11:29:00.000-07:00

I found a partial set of Roycroft china at a small antiques mall. It has the Roycroft mark on the face and a mark for Buffalo China on the back. When my grandmother saw it, she went home and came back with an old Roycroft serving platter with handles. When we put them side-by-side they matched, but it was obvious hers was antique and mine looked new. I would love to get more of each—the old to display and the new to use—but am not sure how to tell them apart. –Marcie, Portales, N.M.

Te Buffalo (N.Y.) Pottery was created in 1901 by John Larkin, owner of the Larkin Soap Company and brother-in-law of Elbert Hubbard, who had worked for John Larkin for several years prior to establishing the Roycrofters in nearby East Aurora in 1895.

John Larkin founded Buffalo Pottery to produce wares his customers could obtain by redeeming coupons packaged with Larkin soap. (The original idea reportedly came from Elbert Hubbard, a master of marketing.) Later, the Buffalo Pottery also began producing hotel dinnerware, including a Dard Hunter–inspired design that was used in the Roycroft Inn’s restaurant as late as the 1960s. According to Roycroft expert Robert Rust, the Roycroft dinnerware was never intended to be sold to the public, but pieces continued to slip out with both guests and employees.

Several years ago the Roycroft Shops in East Aurora began reproducing what was commonly referred to as Roycroft china. Although the design was identical to that originally used in the Roycroft Inn, the manufacturer’s mark was different.On the original china the drawing of the buffalo is very detailed and stands over the words “Buffalo Pottery.” On some pieces the words “Semi-Vitreous” also appear, as well as the word “Roycroft.” On the reproduction china the buffalo is a simple outline over a model number. Above the buffalo are the words “Buffalo China/Since 1901.” Even without marks, the older china can be distinguished by a fine crazing in the glaze that typically comes with age.

True or False?

2010-10-20T11:28:00.002-07:00

I was at an auction preview last week and overheard two collectors who were inspecting a round Arts and Crafts lamp table speculating as to whether or not it was “false grained.” I know the term refers to the practice of painting on a grain pattern—in this case quartersawn oak—but I was not aware that this practice continued into the Arts and Crafts era. Suddenly I’m afraid to look too closely at my small collection. Am I overreacting? –Bill, Atlanta, Ga.

Perhaps a little, but education is always the best precaution.

False graining dates back centuries, but was widespread during the late Victorian era, especially on large, flat surfaces such as a library or dining room table. Back when labor was cheaper than wood, craftsmen could duplicate the appearance of quartersawn oak over a bland piece of inexpensive poplar or gumwood. Fortunately, the practice lost favor during the Arts and Crafts era, but I have seen enough examples to recommend that you never assume anything when it comes to finishes.

The craftsmen began by brushing on a base coat of paint or tinted glaze, which they allowed to dry. Over that they brushed on a second coat of a slightly different tint. Before it dried, they deftly pulled a graining tool from one end of the table to the other, rocking it as they went. The graining tool removed patches and lines of the wet glaze, revealing the base coat beneath it and giving itthe appearance of the wide, wavy lines associated with quartersawn oak. Once it dried, they coated the top with a clear finish, such as shellac or varnish.

A skilled craftsman could duplicate a quartersawn oak grain that would fool nearly anyone who only looked at the top. Some were so talented, in fact, that the first clue to it being false grained is the fact that the grain looks too good! As you might have now concluded, the sure way to detect a false-grained top is to look at the underside. If it is real quartersawn oak, you will see the same grain pattern on the underside of the board.

If not, alarm bells should sound in your head.

Block Watch

2010-10-20T11:28:00.001-07:00

I came across an unusual piece of Roycroft that I would like to learn more about. It’s a block of wood—oak, I believe—that stands just 3 inches high, 2¾ inches wide and 2 inches deep. The front edges have been beveled and it has the Roycroft orb and cross branded into the front of it. I use it as a paperweight on my desk, but am curious if it had another function. –Brett, Pittsburgh, Penn

Those Roycrofters were a frugal and creative bunch! What you described sounds to me like the scrap left from the corner post or leg on a Roycroft bed or Morris chair. Typically, a woodworker begins by cutting a long piece of stock to the required width and thickness, then cuts it to length. Left on the saw bed (or floor!) would be a short piece of wood that, more often than not, ended up in the fireplace or woodstove. It would not require much of a stretch of the imagination to picture one of the workmen (or Elbert Hubbard himself !) picking up one of these scraps and coming up with the idea of making a paperweight. The stroke of genius is that not only did this idea make use of some scrap wood, it generated a few dollars—and the addition of the Roycroft mark on the front made it a great marketing tool as it sat on someone’s desk every day. Having only seen two of these, I’m just tossing out a possibility. Perhaps one of our readers has seen another one—or knows what else it might have been used for.

McHugh Who?

2010-10-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

At a local flea market I picked up an unmarked Arts and Crafts chair that a friend of mine says is called a “McHugh Chair.” It is oak with a woven seat and two wide slats across the back. The feet end in a flair that makes me think it is English. The person who sold it had it marked as being English, too. What can you tell me about it? –John, New Haven, Conn.

Joseph McHugh was an enterprising salesman who gave himself credit for introducing the Arts and Crafts style to America.

In 1895 a designer by the name of A. Page Brown and a woodworker named Alexander J. Forbes teamed up to produce approximately 80 chairs for the Swedenborgian Church in San Francisco. Their chairs matched your description, except they were made of hard maple.

The chairs caught the attention of McHugh, who in 1896 had them duplicated in oak to be sold in his New York retailstore, The Popular Shop. The chairs proved to be as popular asthe shop and McHugh soon added a matching settee to his line (and the magazine stand, above). He described them as being in the “Mission style,” a reference to the Spanish-influenced missions in California from whence they originated.

The flared feet are a detail often associated with the English designer A.H. Mackmurdo, hence the name “the Mackmurdo foot.” It was a stylish element that several Arts and Crafts designers and craftsmen, including the Roycrofters, borrowed freely during the Arts and Crafts era. Although Joseph McHugh often protested that he was never given proper credit for the introduction of the Arts and Crafts style to the American public, he is just a footnote in the history of the movement. His chairs, sturdy testaments to the tenet of handcraftsmanship, surface regularly, but like McHugh have more of a historical than popular following.

ID through hardware?

2010-07-20T07:28:00.000-07:00

Style 1900 archives.

Has anyone published an identification guide to Arts and Crafts furniture based on the style of hardware: drawer pulls, door pulls, knobs and hinges? Wouldn’t this be another way to identify an unsigned piece of furniture?

Your thesis has merit, and the only obvious flaw I perceive could be addressed.

You are correct in your assumption that furniture companies did not automatically change hardware from year to year or from design to design. L. & J.G. Stickley, for instance, once they entered into their mature stage of production, seemingly did not vary their hardware at all. The designers working for Gustav Stickley, on the other hand, did make several changes in their hardware, but, fortunately, these can all be easily documented by studying the furniture catalogs Stickley published.

Many of the Grand Rapids companies purchased hardware from firms that specialized in making a variety of brass and copper pulls, but that would not automatically mean that a firm could not be identified by the presence of a particular pull. The evidence might not be conclusive, but it could point collectors in the right direction, enabling them to look for additional design or construction elements associated with that firm.

The first flaw that comes to mind involves the Stickley family. We know that Gustav Stickley provided some of his hardware to his brother Charles, who was a partner in Stickley & Brandt. In nearly every case, however, close examination of construction techniques reveals that the piece in question was not made in Gustav’s factory. This could easily be explained in the text of the identification guide you have proposed.

I am not aware of any attempt to assemble such a guide. Anyone up for the project?

Stickley By Any Other Name

2010-07-20T07:13:00.000-07:00

This Stickley Tree of Life magazine stand was sold through Tobey Furniture Company. Style 1900 archives.

In my reading on Gustav Stickley and L. & J.G. Stickley, I have come across references to both Tobey Furniture and to Russmore Furniture. Are they the same firm with two different names?

Yes, but with a big difference.

In 1900, after several years of producing mediocre furniture in a variety of late-Victorian styles, Gustav Stickley and his younger brother, Leopold, who worked as his shop foreman, introduced their first line of Arts and Crafts furniture at a show in Grand Rapids, Mich. There they met George Clingman, manager of the well-established Tobey Furniture Company in Chicago. Gustav and Clingman quickly entered into an agreement wherein Tobey Furniture would distribute and sell Arts and Crafts furniture made by Gustav and Leopold Stickley.

As often happened to Gustav, his business partnership with Clingman and the Tobey Furniture Company soon soured. Then, in 1902, Leopold left, reportedly with Gustav’s blessing, to start what would become the L. & J.G. Stickley Company. Researchers speculate, with a solid foundation of evidence, that in 1901 Leopold agreed to assume his brother’s contract with the Tobey Furniture Company, releasing Gustav from that obligation and providing Leopold with a secure income for his fledgling business. Thus, by 1902, furniture that Leopold produced for Tobey Furniture was marketed, distributed and signed with a copper tag reading “Russmore.”

We cannot, however, assume that every piece of Russmore furniture was made under Leopold’s supervision, nor that every piece of Leopold’s earliest furniture went to Tobey, for agreements were made, assumed, altered and broken between furniture firms with alarming regularity—and little surviving documentation. Examination has determined, though, that the Tobey line of Russmore furniture introduced in 1902 was intentionally designed and constructed as a less-expensive alternative to the furniture Gustav made for Tobey Furniture in 1900–01.

Elusive Shop Marks

2010-07-20T06:55:00.000-07:00

Charles Rohlf's shop mark. Style 1900 archives.

I was wondering why furniture makers made their shop marks so hard to find?

Elbert Hubbard would agree with you.

With the exception of Hubbard’s band of Roycrofters, whose entire name or orb-and-cross shop mark was prominently carved into every piece, most Arts and Crafts furniture makers preferred to place their decal, brand or paper label in an unobtrusive spot where it would not detract from the design or appearance. This generally meant inside a drawer of a library table, dresser or desk, on the back of a bookcase, or on the rear stretcher or underneath the arm of a chair. Exceptions do abound, explained in part by the realization that the job of attaching the shop mark probably fell to the youngest member of the crew. Little did they know that a hundred years later we would be analyzing the placement, size and color of each shop mark with a magnifying glass.

Berry Treasure

2010-07-20T06:44:00.000-07:00

Antlers embrace an Albert Berry humidor. Style 1900 archives.

I have a pair of hammered-copper bookends that appear to be in the style of the Roycrofters, but are marked “Berrys’ Craftshop/Teir Mark/Seattle.” I have found that this is the mark of Albert Berry and am curious to learn more about him.

What I find most fascinating about Albert Berry is not that he was a talented metalsmith, nor is it—as many who know his work would expect—that he incorporated antlers and ivory he gathered in Alaska into much of his copper work. Instead, it’s the placement of the apostrophe in his mark. It is “Berrys’ Craftshop” rather than “Berry’s Craftshop,” and it is “Teir Mark.” This was a true family affair.

Albert Berry was born in England, studied at the Rhode Island School of Design, trained at Gorham and worked at Tiffany before moving to Alaska for health reasons in 1905. There he met and married Erwina Jeanneret, who was widowed by the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and was herself a textile artist and talented carver of ivory. She may well have introduced Berry to the idea of blending ivory and Alaskan nature scenes and motifs into the copper desk sets, vases, bowls and lamps he created.

In 1918 the couple moved to Seattle, where his brother, Wilfred, joined the business as a designer. Together, the three Berrys ran the Berry Handcraft Shop until Albert’s death in 1949 at the age of 61. Erwina continued to run the business until she died in 1957, at which time the shop manager took over. It finally closed in the 1970s.

While not as well known as the Roycrofters, the work of the Berry Handcraft Shop is every bit as good and is far more unique. As authors Lawrence Kreisman and Glenn Mason noted in The Arts and Crafts Movement in the Pacific Northwest, “His small, round hammer marks, flowing designs and use of fossil ivory and regional motifs are executed with the highest quality workmanship.” And while, one by one, the vast majority of better-known Arts and Crafts businesses declared bankruptcy prior to World War II, the Berry Handcraft Shop carried the banner into the era of the Arts and Crafts revival.

Molded vs. Unmolded Pottery

2010-04-20T10:31:00.000-07:00

I recently purchased an 8-inch vase with a matte green glaze over long leaves that reach up from the bottom toward the top. It has a partial paper label on the bottom with the initials WP. I have learned that is the mark for Wheatley Pottery. A friend of mine calls it “poor man’s Grueby.” Is Wheatley going to be worth as much as Grueby someday?

Probably not.

Whereas Grueby leaves were hand-applied, Wheatley pottery was formed in molds. (See example above.) The difference isn’t just a case of snobbery: you can see a sharp distinction between hand-applied decoration and that which is molded when the two are placed side by side. “But wait,” someone is asking, “wasn’t Teco and Van Briggle pottery formed in molds? Look at their prices.”

That contradiction is explained by two factors. First, great design. Teco and Van Briggle had it more often than Wheatley. Second, craftsmanship. Not all molded pottery is equal. Additional handwork carried some (but not all) Teco and Van Briggle pottery to the next level.

The lesson to be learned: Evaluate each piece of pottery individually, not simply by who made it—or how.

Wary of Cherry

2010-04-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a party in a home furnished entirely (and beautifully) in new and reproduction pieces of Arts and Crafts furniture, pottery and artwork. The dining room table and chairs were reproductions of Gustav Stickley’s spindle furniture, but done in cherry, not oak. Did Stickley ever use cherry for his original furniture? How do you account for its popularity in new Arts and Crafts furniture?

Simple. Cherry is a beautiful wood.

Cherry has never been as plentiful as oak, including during the Arts and Crafts era. Stickley admired oak’s beauty and durability, and considered it a more democratic wood than cherry, walnut, mahogany or rosewood. His choice of oak for the majority of his furniture was as much symbolic as it was practical.

As much as I personally love oak, I will be the first to admit that cherry has a more refined, more soothing grain. Its natural reddish hue is not unlike the color of red oak under three or four coats of orange shellac. Adding to its appeal, cherry is more colorful than maple and isn’t as dark as walnut. Stickley experimented with both maple and mahogany, but his public simply preferred oak. Today’s collectors are proof that great design and quality craftsmanship have as much appeal in cherry as they do in oak

Preserving Leather Tabletops

2010-04-20T10:22:00.000-07:00

We have an Arts and Crafts table with its original leather top. The leather is extremely fragile, with a couple of holes and a six-inch gash that left a flap of loose leather. Should we glue that flap to the wood underneath it? What about protecting the leather with a piece of custom-cut plate glass?

Experience has proven that glass can cause as much damage as it prevents. Changes in temperature and humidity can trap moisture between the underside of the glass and the leather. And those small round spacers intended to let air circulate under the glass can leave permanent indentations in the leather. Rather than glass, I would cover the leather with a custom-made Arts and Crafts tablecloth when entertaining guests who might not know how the material should be treated.

Protect the leather just as you would an original finish: Keep it out of direct sunlight and treat it periodically with a quality paste wax such as Butcher’s Paste Wax or Minwax Paste Finishing Wax. (Full disclosure: I’m a corporate spokesperson for Minwax.) As for the loose flap, don’t glue it. The leather and the wood expand and contract at different rates. Gluing down the leather will only add stress and create buckles in the leather. Instead, cover the flap with your latest issue of Style 1900.

Copper: To re-patinate or not?

2010-04-20T10:18:00.000-07:00

Once a piece of metalware, such as a Roycroft platter, has been polished, should it be allowed to oxidize naturally until the copper darkens, or should it be professionally re-patinated? Will one method affect its value more than the other?

When a piece of copper was carried back to the finishing room in the Roycroft Copper Shop, it was as bright as a new penny. A few hours later it looked as though it had been oxidizing for a century.

The natural oxidation process is slow, unpredictable and inconsistent. In contrast, a competent craftsperson, using many of the same chemicals and techniques as the Roycrofters, can duplicate the original patina far better than Mother Nature. While a re-patinated piece won’t ever be worth as much as one with an original finish, it certainly will be worth more—and will look better—than one left to tarnish on its own.

Who Made It

2010-04-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

I have an Arts and Crafts nightstand of undetermined origin. The only thing I know is that the hardware was most likely produced by Grand Rapids Brass Company. The piece is out of Grand Rapids, as it has a triangular label in the upper right-hand drawer that is red and says Grand Rapids, Mich. If you are able to tell me more, I would be ecstatic!

I have searched through my shopmarks file and haven’t come up with a match for a red triangle, but I suspect one of our readers will.

I agree with your assessment of the source of the hardware. Author Don Marek has determined that the Grand Rapids Brass Company made hardware for several Arts and Crafts furniture manufacturers, ranging from Stickley Brothers and Limbert down to firms we know little about today.

Your nightstand has some distinctive characteristics that should also help us determine its origin. The tops of the posts, for instance, are rounded rather than crisply beveled. The piece is made of oak, but plain-sawn rather than the quartersawn preferred by highly respected makers. Had even just the lower door been covered with two matching pieces of quartersawn oak veneer, the nightstand would have benefited greatly. The steel casters, while practical, detract from the overall design. I would consider popping them out, labeling them and storing them in one of the drawers.

My overall reaction to the piece is that it is a sweet design and well constructed. When one of our readers provides a name to match the triangular red shopmark, I expect it will be of one of the lesser-known Grand Rapids firms.

Is a Shopmark Worth Shopping For?

2010-03-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

As a new collector, I still don’t completely understand the role of makers’ shopmarks in determining the value of a piece. For instance, is a Morris chair with a shopmark worth more than the same one without any identification mark?

We collectors like shopmarks. Whether it be a decal, a paper label or a brand, a shopmark tells us which firm made the piece and, in some cases, when it was made. As author David Cathers warns us, however, a shopmark should merely confirm what the design and construction elements in a piece have already told us. While someone unscrupulous could reproduce a well-known shopmark, planning to place it on an inferior piece, he would not be able to change those critical details—the bracing beneath a leather seat, the shape of a corbel or the curve of an arch—that distinguish the work of one firm from another.

But what happens to the value of a piece when a shopmark is missing?

First, we have to make sure we are comparing apples to apples—and not to a lemon. Many pieces which are unsigned today lost their often-fragile shopmark during a refinishing; however, it is that destruction of the original finish, not the lack of a shopmark, that reduces the value. A refinished example will always be worth less than the same form in its original finish.

For the remainder of this discussion, however, let’s assume we’re comparing pieces that are in the same condition: original finish with normal wear. Perhaps ironically, the presence of a shopmark is more apt to influence the value of a piece made by one of the less famous furniture companies, such as J. M. Young, Harden, Plail, Lifetime, and even Stickley Brothers, rather than one of the Big Four: Gustav Stickley, L. & J.G. Stickley, Roycroft or Limbert. The less we know about a company’s construction techniques, the more we have to rely on a shopmark to identify their work. Furniture by any lesser-known firm increases in value if a shopmark is present, if only because it then escapes being tagged as “generic.”

The same is not necessarily true of the better-documented Arts and Crafts furniture companies. Once an unsigned piece of furniture can be identified by unique construction details, by design elements, by comparison to illustrations and dimensions in company sales catalogs, or by comparison to identical signed pieces in auction catalogs or museum collections, then the lack of a shopmark is no longer a detriment and should not decrease its value.

And as collectors, dealers and writers continue to contribute to our warehouse of information, we are gradually able to identify more and more of those unsigned pieces.

First Things First

2010-03-30T12:53:00.000-07:00

My wife and I are recently married and have bought our first house, a bungalow. We have agreed that we want to furnish it in Arts and Crafts style, mixing new pieces with antiques as we can find and afford them. We’re having trouble agreeing on what should be our first major purchase, however—I think we should get a matched pair of Morris chairs for our living room and she thinks we should first get a dining-room table and chairs. Cost-wise, it would work out about the same, but we can’t afford both right now. Any suggestions?

Good—but tough—question. In the living room I would, like you, put the Morris chair at the top of my list, above a settle (strong on looks, weak on comfort), large lamp table or bookcase. Additional seating pieces, such as rocking chairs, are pretty easy to find in every price range whenever you need them. In the dining room, the table and chairs should take precedence over a sideboard, server or china cabinet. All are great pieces, but they can be added later to enhance the room.

To decide which pieces to purchase first, ask yourselves two questions:
• which room is more of a focal point in your home?
• what will you be using in place of the one you don’t buy?

If you are eating off a vinyl card table and four rusty chairs, and can afford a couple of inexpensive Arts and Crafts rocking chairs for the living room, then your wife is right—put your money into a dining set first. But if your dining room is out of sight most of the time and your existing table and chairs are acceptable, even if not Arts and Crafts in style—and if you and your guests are sitting on mildewed, beer-stained, over-stuffed sofas hauled over from your bachelor apartment—then the Morris chairs should come first

Helen Hyde, Printmaker

2010-03-30T12:46:00.000-07:00

Printmaker Helen Hyde traveled to Mexico, China and India and lived for many years in Japan. Engaging studies of children (such as Over the Garden Wall, 1912, and The Red Curtain, 1907) were a specialty of hers.Courtesy Steven Thomas, Inc.

My grandmother left me a print of a Japanese mother and her baby. I studied the signature under a magnifying glass and it looks to be original, not printed. It is that of Helen Hyde. I was told she was of considerable importance during the Arts and Crafts era and would like to learn more about her.

Every bit as capable as a businesswoman as she was talented as an artist, Helen Hyde once advised women “to pretend they are helpless, even if they are not, to give men something to do, make them feel worth something.”

Born in New York in 1868, Helen Hyde was raised by a wealthy aunt who paid for her education at Wellesley, then sent her to study art in New York, Paris and Berlin. Encouraged to focus on Asian themes, Helen moved to San Francisco, where she spent her days in Chinatown, gathering material for her drawings and etchings. In 1899 she moved to Japan, where she learned the craft of color woodblock printing.

At the dawn of the Arts and Crafts movement, printmakers generally found themselves subscribing to one of two opposing philosophical approaches to producing their art. Under the existing workshop system, trained craftsmen assisted the artist in transferring the image to a series of blocks, while others performed the task of carving away the unnecessary wood. Yet another group of craftsmen placed the inked blocks in the press and produced the prints.

Proponents of the Arts and Crafts philosophy decried the workshop system, calling, instead, for the artist to learn and personally execute each step in the process. Helen Hyde managed to straddle the two schools effectively, utilizing the workshop system in her own studio, where she, after having learned each step, scrutinized her select group of craftsmen working under her. In this way she was able to produce 67 original woodcuts, each then printed in editions of approximately 200. By 1914, it is estimated that Helen Hyde had produced and signed nearly 14,000 color woodblock prints.

Her favorite subjects were undoubtedly sweet or mischievous Japanese children and/or Japanese women demurely involved in their daily tasks. Her art, like her personal life, was nearly devoid of men. By 1914, however, Helen Hyde had grown disillusioned with Japanese society and its growing disregard for honored traditions. She returned to the United States, succumbing five years later to cancer.

Helen Hyde prided herself on being a self-sufficient artist, securing exhibitions in galleries in San Francisco and New York, where her art was awarded both popular and critical success. Upon her death her friends and family collected and organized her artwork, placing examples in prominent museums where they could be appreciated and studied. Today Helen Hyde remains both a popular and critical success with a new generation of Arts and Crafts collectors—and appears to have just gained a new fan.

Family-Friendly Arts and Crafts

2010-03-30T12:42:00.000-07:00

We are quite proud of our growing collection of Arts and Crafts, but also more than a little concerned about how it will fare sharing a small house with a growing family. We have two dogs, a three-year-old son, and a daughter on the way.
Any suggestions?

Having shared my Arts and Crafts collection over the years with a total of seven dogs, at least as many cats and two sons, I have learned some tough lessons. A cat can push a Marblehead vase off the top of a five-foot-tall china cabinet, animal urine does dissolve an original shellac finish, and two wrestling boys can put a foot through a glass pane in a Stickley bookcase.

Some accidents are unavoidable, unless you intend to wrap all your antiques in bubble-wrap until the pets are trained and your children have left home (neither of which is guaranteed to ever happen). I once discovered a Gustav Stickley footstool with its original leather seat in a small antiques shop. I no more than got it home before my cat decided it would be a perfect scratching post. A month later, tired of keeping my treasured footstool in the closet for safety, I made a decision: I sold the footstool and with the profit bought two similar stools that had new leather seats. The cat showed no interest in either one—and I could actually put my feet on them without worrying about damaging the leather.

Here, then, are a few tips:

Display your most valuable pottery inside a bookcase or china cabinet rather than on it or on a shelf vulnerable to air-borne objects.
Instead of pottery, buy Arts and Crafts metalware. It bounces rather than breaks.
Keep all items, including metalware, high enough to be out of your children’s reach.
Protect the surfaces of your furniture from water, milk and juice with a coat of high quality paste wax (Butcher’s, Johnson’s, or Minwax). Do not use a liquid wax or polish, any aerosol products or anything promising to “clean and protect.” The chemicals in these cleaning-waxes can dissolve and remove an original shellac finish.
Keep metal and hard plastic toys out of rooms occupied by your antiques. Move antiques out of your designated family or play rooms—at least until your children are beyond the “let’s pound the table with a toy tractor” stage.
Don’t let teething puppies play under your antique dining-room table.
Neutering your cat is a good idea for many reasons, and doing so will sometimes break a cat of the habit of “marking” pieces of furniture—but not always. If your cat starts spraying your furniture, consult your vet to determine the underlying cause and how to resolve it.

As for scratching, I never advocate removing a cat’s claws, for that practice is painful, cruel and leaves the animal defenseless for the rest of its life. (Imagine having your fingernails ripped out!) Temporarily covering or moving a piece of furniture, along with providing your cat with several alternative scratching posts, should solve that problem. Again, your vet may have suggestions.

Warts and All

2010-03-30T12:37:00.001-07:00

This hammered copper vase by Dirk van Erp not only boasts his prized “warty” surface with an excellent original patina, but is unusually large—over 15 inches high. Style 1900 archives.

Recently, while reading a piece about the San Francisco metalsmith Dirk van Erp, I found a reference to his “warty” pots. No further explanation was included, although I gather from the descriptive term that these pots must not have a smooth surface. Can you explain?

One of the final steps for the metalsmith in shaping a platter, bowl or vase is the removal of the uneven and irregular hammer marks produced when first beating the flat sheet of copper into shape. This removal is accomplished by using a fine hammer to “planish” the surface smooth until it is nearly flawless. The most respected Arts and Crafts metalware, such as that produced in the Roycroft Copper Shop from 1906 through 1915, was planished only to the degree that a series of small hammer marks could still be seen. These, like the flake of a quartersawn board, were intended as a decorative element in the piece.

Dirk van Erp, in addition to producing hand-hammered copper items with the typical Arts and Crafts texture still visible, also experimented with other textures, including what collectors now call his “warty” pots. Author Roger Moss has described these as having “rugged, handsome honesty [with a] complexity and sophistication.” It appears that Dirk van Erp produced a small number of warty pieces, in addition to his larger standard output, from 1908 or 1909 (his first years in business for himself) until his official retirement in 1929.

In addition to having a more distinctive texture, van Erp’s warty pots also display a range of colors created through a chemical patination process, producing, in Moss’s words, a “random combination of red, umber, chocolate, mustard, black, burnt orange and khaki, with occasional flashes of magenta, purple, green or gold, combinations which interact with bold vigor to create an almost infinite variety of effects.” Dirk van Erp’s warty vases, especially those with a stunning patina, are highly sought after by Arts and Crafts collectors today.

Curious about Curtis

2010-03-30T12:31:00.000-07:00

Shown in its original frame, this 1904 platinum print by Edward S. Curtis, The Vanishing Race, would have fit perfectly into a Craftsman bungalow. Style 1900 archives.

I’m curious—what is it about Edward Curtis photographs that makes them “Arts and Crafts?” My wife and I are looking for art to hang on the walls of our new Arts and Crafts bungalow and have seen Curtis prints in several homes featured in magazines such as Style 1900.

The popularity of original photogravures, goldtones and photographs by Edward Curtis (1868-1952)—not to mention the numerous restrikes, reprints and counterfeits—is largely due to the photographer’s subject matter. During the Arts and Crafts era, the American people were captivated by the vanishing American Indian culture and by handcrafted pottery, baskets and weavings. Edward Curtis was among the first to set out to preserve through photography the remaining American Indian tribes and their traditional way of life.

Curtis’s life was characterized by hardship through dedication. He, his wife and their four children lived in Seattle, where he first earned a meager living selling photographs of Mount Rainier. Soon after his third child was born, Curtis left for several months to serve as photographer for a scientific expedition to Alaska, which spawned his decision in 1904 to attempt to photograph all of the Indian tribes in the western United States. In addition to his photographs, which were to be both scientific and artistic, Curtis set out to document each tribe’s history, customs, music, dress and folklore.

The twenty-year project eventually cost Curtis his marriage, his studio, his finances and his physical and mental health. Eventually totaling twenty volumes, The North American Indian was an artistic success, but a financial failure. His wife sued for divorce in 1919 and was granted his studio and all his negatives. Curtis filed no less than eighteen lawsuits in his attempt to retrieve his work. Later he worked as a cameraman for a film company, failed at a mining venture, and eventually retired to his daughter’s farm.

It has been estimated that Edward Curtis developed more than 40,000 photographs, ranging from rare goldtones printed on glass to standard photographs sold to tourists. Deciphering restrikes from reprints from counterfeits can be confusing, so collectors are advised to carefully research any Curtis photograph they are considering, as well as the individual selling it.

Larkin About

2010-03-30T12:30:00.000-07:00

As both an architect and an Arts and Crafts collector, I have become interested in Frank Lloyd Wright’s 1903 Larkin Building, for which I understand he designed hundreds of pieces of furniture. I know the building was demolished in 1950, but what happened to all those desks and such? Do examples surface in the Buffalo area?

I asked myself the same question the first time I had the opportunity to visit Buffalo. The foremost authority that I know on the Larkin Building is Wright scholar Jack Quinan, who has documented the fact that Wright designed both metal and wooden furniture for the Larkin office building. The metal pieces, including rolling armchairs for executives and unique flat-topped desks with attached swivel chairs for secretaries, were manufactured for Larkin by the Van Dorn Iron Works in Cleveland. Quinan estimates there would have been more than a thousand Wright-designed desks inside the Larkin Building when it opened.

In addition to the metal furniture, the building’s fifth-floor restaurant held more than five hundred Wright-designed wooden dining chairs—variations on the wide, single-slat-back design that Wright installed in the Francis Little House, the Hillside Home School and the Robie House. Other areas in the office building contained scores of recliners, tabourets, tables and couches designed by the famed architect.

So what happened to it all? The Great Depression sent the Larkin Company into a tailspin, with disastrous consequences. First to go were the restaurant’s chairs and tables, which the Larkin family believes were hauled to the Buffalo landfill in the mid-1930s. The other wooden furniture is believed to have suffered a similar fate. The building was sold in 1943, in the midst of World War II, at which time, Quinan says, the metal desks and chairs “were rolled flat with steam rollers and sold for scrap.” Anything left behind would have been destroyed when the brick building was leveled in 1950.

Larkin family members and employees did rescue a few relics, some of which can now be seen in various museum installations. But given the scarcity of Larkin furniture to have surfaced since 1950, it is safe to assume that (hard as it may be for us to comprehend) nearly all of the thousands of pieces that once filled the five-story office building were destroyed.

Mr. Liberty, I Presume?

2010-03-30T12:25:00.000-07:00

“Tudric” pewter objects sold through the trendsetting Liberty of London retail store are popular with collectors today. Shown here is a Tudric pewter biscuit box designed by Archibald Knox with stylized leaves, 4 ½ inches square, stamped TUDRIC 0194. Image from Style 1900 archives.

Whenever the subject of British Arts and Crafts comes up, the name Liberty & Company is always mentioned—but was there a Mr. Liberty and was he a craftsman? He must have had a large workshop—I’ve seen the name attached to a pretty wide range of objects, including fabrics, jewelry and silver.

There was, indeed, an amazing Mr. Liberty. (Sounds like a movie title, doesn’t it?)
In 1875, after bouncing around several family businesses, Arthur Lasenby Liberty (1843-1917) opened a small retail shop along London’s famed Regent Street, where he sold fabrics and imported Oriental wares—and where he may have first rubbed shoulders with the likes of William Morris, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones. Sensing a growing demand for an alternative to the prevailing Victorian fashion, Arthur Liberty soon began negotiating contracts with scores of designers, craftsmen and manufacturers who provided his growing business with a wide variety of wares in the Art Nouveau and Arts and Crafts styles.

Never one to rest on his laurels, Liberty continued to expand his presence as both a trendsetter and as a retail merchant of artistic wares, from women’s clothing and fabrics to metalware and furniture. In addition to his keen business sense, Liberty recognized, attracted and gave commissions to the finest designers and craftspeople, including Archibald Knox (who even designed Liberty’s gravestone), Arthur Silver, Baillie Scott, and C.F.A. Voysey. Despite—or, perhaps because of—his success, many British craft guilds despised Arthur Liberty’s approach to mass-merchandising and urged their members to resist Liberty’s attractive offers, which rarely included permission for the craftsman to “sign” his work with anything other than Liberty’s own mark.

Undeterred, Arthur Liberty amassed a considerable fortune prior to his death. His fame was so widespread that in 1913 he was knighted, and his influence so far-reaching that for many years and in several countries the terms Art Nouveau and Arts and Crafts were synonymous with the phrase “Liberty Style.” Like Elbert Hubbard in America, England’s Arthur Liberty may never have crafted anything of significance himself, but his recognition of the appeal of the Art Nouveau and Arts and Crafts styles, his skill as a businessman, and the public’s demand for artistic decorative items accounted for his success as a retail merchant and for the popularity today of Liberty & Company antiques. In fact, the company remains one of London’s leading upscale retailers, purveying modern fashions and furnishings out of its vast 1920s Tudor-revival emporium on Regent Street.

Less Substantial Stickley?

2010-03-30T12:24:00.000-07:00

I understand that Gustav Stickley streamlined and “lightened up” much of the furniture he manufactured after 1912. Was this decision due to financial reasons—or to a sincere belief in simplifying his designs? And isn’t it true that, even though Stickley believed he was making affordable furniture for the middle class, only the wealthy could actually afford it?

These are complex questions! Stickley himself spoke in different ways about the question of altering his designs. When he introduced his line of spindle furniture in 1905, he struck a practical and businesslike note, describing these pieces as “built after our familiar models, but on rather lighter lines, so that they are easier to handle and are also somewhat less expensive.” In 1912, however, he declared in Elbert Hubbard fashion that “most of my furniture was so carefully designed and well-proportioned in the first place that, even with my advanced experience, I cannot improve upon it.”

While some collectors consider Stickley’s “branded shopmark” furniture of 1912-1916 to be inferior to that produced earlier, it must be noted that many of his most popular models remained unchanged. Those that were redesigned in 1912 did emerge looking lighter: gone in many cases were the strap hinges, the keyed tenons, the large hammered pulls, the thick tops and the dramatic arches. In effect, the pieces published in the 1912 Craftsman Furniture Catalog fall into two categories: heavier, more detailed pieces from the 1904-1912 period, and several lighter, more streamlined versions of the same forms. Gustav Stickley did not abandon the designs from his early years; he merely supplemented them with new models.

While some of the new models were less expensive to produce, the difference would not have been significant. Cutting a straight table apron from a quarter-sawn oak board would not have cost any less than cutting a curved apron from the same board. Had Stickley wanted to save a considerable amount of money, he would have dropped the quarter-sawn lumber in favor of less expensive plain sawn boards—something many of his competitors did.

Gustav Stickley did not manufacture cheap furniture—but then, neither did the Roycroft Furniture Shop nor L. & J.G. Stickley. Because these factories were run much like custom workshops, their products were priced higher than those mass-produced by other companies. Gustav Stickley fought to distinguish his well-made furniture from less-expensive knock-offs which offered the style without the substance. “My idea,” he stated prophetically, “is that the first cost of the furniture to the purchaser is only a part of its value, which will steadily increase with age and use.”

Woven Splint Furniture

2010-03-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

After reading with interest your recent column on Old Hickory rustic furniture, I’m hoping you can shed some light on an unusual library table I have. It has an oak framework, but the top and the lower shelf are both inset with a woven splint frame. The remnant of a paper label on the underside reads “Geneva, N.Y.” The table appears to have been made during the Arts and Crafts period. Any idea by whom?

Had the rest of the label survived, it would have read “Indian Splint Mfg. Co.”

Formed in 1907, the Indian Splint Manufacturing Company expanded from making baskets to producing furniture featuring woven splint seats, backs, sides and insets after its founder, Edgar Mayette, patented a method of reinforcing the splint with a galvanized steel strap. He sold the business soon thereafter, and around 1908 the new owners moved the operation to larger quarters in Geneva, New York. Catalogs were published in 1909 and 1910.

The idea for woven splint furniture may indeed have been inspired by Old Hickory style furnishings. Ads also proclaimed Indian Splint products to be “light in weight, artistic in design, durable and sold at a price which puts it within reach of all classes of trade.” Michael Clark and Jill Thomas-Clark, who edited the reprint of the two Indian Splint catalogs (Parchment Press, 1994), have observed that the “design of many of the accessory pieces may be considered successful. However, other chairs, settees and parlor pieces fare less well in an assessment of their design and comfort.” Nevertheless, given that the firm remained in business until 1952, Indian Split furniture seems to have garnered a substantial following, appealing to owners of both bungalows and Adirondack cabins.

Fit for a King

2010-03-30T12:21:00.000-07:00

I recently came upon a quarter-sawn oak desk chair that I was sure was going to have an L. & J.G. Stickley decal on it. Instead, it had a brand that reads “King Craft.” I can’t find anything about King Craft in my furniture books. Is there a chance this chair could have been made by L. & J.G. and branded by another company or retail store?

I applaud you for noticing the similarity between your chair and those manufactured by L. & J.G. Stickley, for these products could certainly be mistaken for one another—were it not for the shopmark. The King Craft mark can be traced to the Oregon Chair Company in Portland. In The Arts & Crafts Movement in the Pacific Northwest (Timber Press, 2007), historians Lawrence Kreisman and Glenn Mason state that, while the firm began manufacturing in 1906, it may not have produced Arts and Crafts style furnishings until several years later. By that time several retail stores in Portland, Spokane and Seattle carried furniture by Stickley Brothers, Gustav Stickley, Charles Limbert and L. & J.G. Stickley, providing West Coast designers with an abundance of excellent models. The combination of pleasing proportions, pegged joints and quarter-sawn oak makes your King Craft chair every bit as desirable as one with the L. & J.G. Stickley shopmark.

Britain's Master Metalworker

2010-03-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

This copper box (circa 1902, 9 inches long) and charger (circa 1898, 15 inches in diameter) typify the work of John Pearson, Britain’s pre-eminent Arts and Crafts coppersmith. Images courtesy John Alexander Ltd., Philadelphia, PA.

At an antique shop last week, I found a beautiful Arts and Crafts copper wall plaque with a sailing galleon in raised relief. It is signed with the initials “J.P.” and what I assume is a model or style number. The dealer purchased it in London, but knew nothing about it. The quality is on par with anything American I have seen and it is much larger than anything I have seen pictured by any of the American metalsmiths. Any idea who J.P. might be?

I suspect you’ve purchased a piece by John Pearson (1859-1930), one of Britain’s premier Arts and Crafts metalsmiths, who frequently signed his work in this way. Though little is known about Pearson’s early career, he appears to have been largely self-taught. He joined C.R. Ashbee’s Guild of Handicraft in the late 1880s, rose to be its leading metalworker, then struck out on his own in 1892 when Ashbee objected to Pearson also selling work to rival companies. After a stint teaching his repoussé technique in the Cornish village of Newlyn—which would shortly become a center for Arts and Crafts copper production—Pearson returned to London. He soon found a ready outlet through both Liberty and Morris & Company, in addition to his own storefront.

In the book Newlyn Copper (Sansom & Company, 2008), Daryl Bennett and Colin Pill describe Pearson as “the very model of the romantic gothic craftsman, a free spirit, retaining control over his work, and seen as thorny and un-cooperative.” They note that Pearson’s copper “is most easily recognized by the deep repoussé designs of birds, fish, grotesque fantasy creatures, landscape designs with tree of life, and setting or rising sun motifs. His workmen colleagues referred to his ‘jolly art fish’, and it is perhaps his ability to give his creatures character and personality that is most significant in his designs.” Today, collectors prize Pearson’s large copper or bronze chargers, some of which approach 24 inches in diameter

The Roypotters

2010-03-30T11:49:00.000-07:00

As a new Roycroft collector, I have picked up several pieces of metalware, a leather purse, and two Roycroft chairs (one of which came from the Grove Park Inn). I have been doing some reading about Elbert Hubbard and, given the widespread popularity at that time of art pottery, have to wonder why the Roycrofters never set up a pottery. Or did they?

You have hit upon one of the mysteries of the Roycrofters, for although research indicates that, indeed, there once was a pottery at Roycroft, no signed examples have surfaced.

Some of the earliest references to a pottery on the Roycroft campus date back to 1899 and 1900. In 1902, in fact, it appears that some Roycroft pottery was being offered for sale. Piecing these and other fragments together, it appears that in 1899 or 1900 Elbert Hubbard entered into an agreement whereby Carl Ahrens, a painter and potter, and Ahrens’s sister-in-law, Eleanor Douglas, would produce pottery in a building near the Print Shop. Fewer than one hundred pieces were reportedly made before Ahrens and Mathews, after an argument with Hubbard, left the campus. The pieces in stock were divided between the potters and Hubbard, which may explain the reference to Roycroft pottery being sold in 1902.

Examples of pottery made on the Roycroft campus probably do exist, but if they were never signed with the Roycroft mark, they cannot be positively identified. After all, in 1900 the Roycroft mark had not even been officially registered as a trademark. While Hubbard had used it on Roycroft books since 1895, it did not appear on the early andirons, fireplace sets and lighting fixtures being produced in the Roycroft Blacksmith Shop, nor did it appear on all of the furniture then being made for use on the campus. Not until the completion of the new three-story Roycroft Furniture Shop in 1904, and the introduction of Roycroft copper wares shortly thereafter, did the practice of signing each piece with the Roycroft shopmark become prevalent.

Designer Dard Hunter, who arrived at Roycroft in 1904, did experiment with a few pieces of pottery soon after he arrived. However, although signed with both his mark and that of the Roycrofters, his pottery was never placed into production and should not be confused with the Roycroft pottery that Carl Ahrens and Eleanor Douglas are believed to have produced for Elbert Hubbard in 1900.

Ali Baba's Bench

2010-03-30T11:46:00.000-07:00

The Roycroft “Ali Baba” bench was named for Elbert Hubbard’s handyman, not because it was meant to evoke the Arabian Nights.

Not long ago I saw, in an exhibition, a piece of Roycroft furniture referred to as an “Ali Baba” bench. Unfortunately, there was no catalog to provide any information on the bench, which I liked, but found rather perplexing with its smooth finished legs contrasting with the half-log seat with the bark still on it. Surely there must be a story behind it.

Of all the things that have been said about Elbert Hubbard, none is more accurate than his having a unique sense of humor—oftentimes at his own expense.

Ali Baba was in reality Anson Alonzo Blackman, a horse-breeder Hubbard met soon after moving to East Aurora, New York. Blackman later worked for Hubbard as a carpenter and general handyman, acquiring the nickname Ali Baba when called that by Hubbard’s infant son. Soon Hubbard began quoting Ali Baba in his articles, assigning him credit for mottos and advice which Hubbard may have sensed would have offended some of his friends and clients. Among Hubbard’s mottos most infamously credited to Ali Baba are “Art is largely a matter of haircut,” and “Two in a bush are the root of all evil.”

The Ali Baba bench is as you described: a 42-inch length of either ash or oak log sawn in half, then mounted on legs. The flat surface was sanded smooth and finished, but the rounded underside was purposely left with the rough bark exposed. Like the best of Roycroft furniture, the Ali Baba bench is, as Hubbard wrote, “purely Roycroft – made by us according to our own ideas.” Whether or not Hubbard intended for the Ali Baba bench to poke fun at pretentious Arts and Crafts furniture designers remains unknown, but each example which surfaces is eagerly sought after by Roycroft collectors.

Kendall Chairs

2010-03-30T11:42:00.000-07:00

This mahogany and cane Phoenix Furniture Company chair was designed by David Wolcott Kendall. His work in oak helped pioneer a style that would later be developed by Gustav Stickley.

At a local flea market, I picked up a chair that the owner stated had been made by the Phoenix Furniture Company in Grand Rapids. When I asked how he knew, he merely shrugged and said that is what the lady who sold it to him claimed. He said it had something to do with the #443 stenciled on the inside of the front seat apron. I haven’t been able to find out anything about the Phoenix Furniture Company or the chair, which looks very much like an Arts and Crafts chair, except that it has a caned seat and back. Can you shed any light on my find?

In our rush to assign too much credit to a few notable names, we overlook the contributions to the movement by men such as David Wolcott Kendall (1851-1910). Kendall, who over nearly 30 years rose from draftsman and designer to treasurer and superintendent of the Phoenix Furniture Company, designed a number of early Arts and Crafts chairs. Among his credits is chair #443, as verified by records at the Kendall School of Design in Grand Rapids, which was founded by his wife after his death.

Kendall was among the first Grand Rapids designers who, realizing that the supply of widely-popular walnut was rapidly dwindling, turned to oak as an alternative. He is credited with having developed a number of dark stains for oak which made it more attractive to a public accustomed to dark walnut and mahogany furniture. And, in case we begin to believe that Gustav Stickley was the first to use a green stain on Arts & Crafts furniture, David Kendall had developed and promoted a green stain on oak furniture in the 1890s while Gustav Stickley was still manufacturing fancy Victorian rockers.

Much of Kendall’s other work would today be considered too ornamental to be Arts and Crafts, but with its flat arms, square spindles and rungs, and rectilinear form, chair design #443, introduced around 1894, is a predecessor of the forms which Gustav Stickley and others would develop and promote as the American Arts and Crafts style

Forgotten Stickley

2010-03-30T11:33:00.000-07:00

I recently came across a rocking chair with a decal on the back that says “Stickley & Brandt Chair Company.” It’s very well constructed from quartersawn oak with pegged joints and massive front legs. Although this rocker definitely has the “Stickley” look, my suspicion is that it was made by one of the brothers of Gustav Stickley. What can you tell me?

A Scholars Michael Clark and Jill Thomas-Clark have written about the “forgotten” Stickleys—Charles, Albert, Leopold and John—in Stickley Brothers: The Quest for an American Voice (Gibbs Smith, Publisher, Salt Lake City, 2002).

Your chair is by Charles Stickley (1860-1927), the second oldest son, born just two years after Gustav. Gustav, Charles and Albert (1862-1928) learned the craft of furniture making in their uncle’s chair factory in Brandt, Pennsylvania. In 1883, with their uncle’s support, the three formed the Stickley Brothers firm, producing ornate Victorian chairs, rockers and settees in cherry, oak and mahogany. Though very successful, Gustav left the firm in 1888 to strike out on his own; shortly thereafter, brother Albert took the business name and moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Charles, who had married into the prominent Brandt family, elected to stay in the area, establishing in 1891 the Stickley & Brandt Chair Company with a cousin in nearby Binghamton, New York. The company’s retail store was incorporated as the Stickley-Brandt Furniture Company in 1896 and remained in business until 1928. The company prospered, making and selling a wide variety of styles of furniture, but it was not until 1909 that they introduced their Arts and Crafts line.

Charles drew his inspiration from the designs of both Gustav and Leopold. Close inspection reveals that much of his hardware had been furnished by brother Gustav, leading some to speculate that Charles’s entry into the crowded Arts and Crafts field had been encouraged and supported by his brothers. His most characteristic design element, however, is the two-inch by four-inch legs on his chairs, rockers and settees. A reprint of his 1911 catalog, Modern Craft Styles by Charles Stickley, is now available from Turn of the Century Editions and the Parchment Press (973-275-9703 or www.turnofthecenturyeditions.com).

Although the Stickley & Brandt retail store remained in business until 1928, the furniture factory closed in 1917. In retrospect, it seems that their entry into the Arts and Crafts field came at a time when demand for massive furniture was on the decline. Unable to make the necessary adjustments, the furniture factory declared bankruptcy and Charles left the industry, remaining in Binghamton until his death in 1927.