Do you need a dose of handmade and hand-decorated? Try “Peasant Art in Sweden, Lapland and Iceland” edited by Charles Holme and published in 1910.
This gorgeous little book includes sections on textiles, metalwork, horn carving and a large section on furniture and wood carvings. From batlets to weaving implements you will find plenty of ideas for your next project or your next litre of beer.
Of course there are carved spoons:
And carved headboards for your bed:
Sprinkled here and there are wonderful pieces like this stool. The carver saw the branches of a tree and it inspired a stool made into the shape of a faithful companion.
If you are looking for some light reading to add to your digital book wheel I have two short stories for you featuring woodworkers.
The first story, from 15th-century Italy, is “La novella del grasso legnajuolo” (The Story of the Fat Woodworker). The story was discovered by Andrea, a farmer and woodworker, from Cremona. In September he featured the story on his blog.
“The Story of the Fat Woodworker” involves the antics of Renaissance luminaries Brunelleschi, Donatello and the unfortunate Manetto Ammanatini, known as Il Grasso. I prefer to call him merely robusto.
Andrea was able to locate several copies of the story published between 1485 and 1856 and, as he pointed out, the 1485 copy has a nice woodcut with a low workbench.
If you would like to read the 1820 Italian version featuring the illustration of Manetto clicca qui.
There is also an English translation from UC-Santa Barbara, about 20 pages long, and you can find it here.
The second short story is about the chairmaker Gilbert Nickerson, known as the Old Chairmaker, of Shag Harbour, Nova Scotia.
“The Old Chairmaker” was written by Evelyn M. Richardson and was published in the Dalhousie Review, Volume 27, Issue 1 in 1947. You can find the story here and it is 8 pages long.
To visit Andrea’s blog, L’angolo di spoglia inferior, and read his comments in Italian and English, clicca qui.
Three hundred years ago today, Jacob Arend (1688-1744), a journeyman cabinetmaker in his brother’s workshop in Würzburg, wrote a letter and hid it in a magnificent Baroque writing cabinet. The letter was not placed in one of the secret drawers common in 18th-century desks and cabinets – he hid the letter so well it was not found for 253 years. Sometime after writing the letter Jacob and fellow journeyman, Johannes Witthalm, left Würzburg to seek their fortunes elsewhere.
In his letter Jacob allowed us a rare look into his world and the extreme contrast between his living conditions and the luxury of the writing cabinet he and Johannes had made. You can read Jacob’s letter and what is known about his life here.
In the last year I found two notes that shed some light on what happened to Jacob in the ten-year gap between leaving Würzburg in 1716 and arriving in Fulda in 1726. The clue comes by way of Carl Maxillian Mattern (1705-1774), a more well-known German cabinetmaker. While C.M. Mattern was a journeyman he worked for a time with Jacob Arend in Pfaffendorf across the river from Coblentz (Koblentz). So, at one point during the ten-year gap Jacob returned to his hometown of Coblentz.
The possible dates for Mattern working with Jacob in Pfaffendorf are 1722-1726. The next tidbit is Jacob was called to the court of Fulda by Prince-Abbot Adolf. In March of 1726, Konstantin, Prince-Abbot of Fulda, died and was succeeded by Adolf von Dalberg (pictured below with a view of Fulda). Prince-Abbot Adolf ruled from 1726 to 1737.
There are a few pieces made by Jacob in museums, including the writing cabinet in the Victoria and Albert Museum. I found one more writing cabinet that was up for auction a while ago.
The cabinet is dated 1738 making it a work from Jacob’s Fulda shop. The dimensions are 200 cm x 134 cm x 69 cm (78.7 in x 52.8 in x 27.2 in). The veneers are nut wood, nut wood root and plum wood on a softwood base. This cabinet is not as ostentatious, nor does it have the exotic woods and rare materials as that last cabinet made in Würzburg, but it is splendid nevertheless.
At the end of Jacob’s letter he asked that the finder drink to their (his and Johannes’) health, or if they were no longer living, to their eternal rest and salvation. Scott Stahl, a dedicated reader of the Lost Art Press blog, suggested we follow Jacob’s wish and designate October 22 as Jacob Arend Day. So, raise your glass and honor Jacob and the artisans of the past.
Almost 269 years ago Abraham Carpenter, a cooper, advertised his many services in rhyme. This might be the first advertising jingle in the Colonies.
He had handsome (hansom) chairs and horses for hire at a time when the city had, other than walking or riding horseback, few means of transport.
Located near the the waterfront he offered masts for vessels and cringles for sails. And of course, he was a very good hoop-maker, even if he did say so himself.
Aesthetic Movement furniture can give you whiplash. On one hand it can be delicately rendered, on the other hand it can hit you over the head with goofiness. The Aesthetic movement was a reaction to the heavy and suffocating Victorian styles. It was akin to the counter-culture of the 1960s when the restraints and conformity of previous decades were thrown off. The Aesthetic Movement began in England and was also embraced by America. It started around 1860 and extended to the 1890s when it gave way to the Arts and Crafts Movement.
Furniture and decorative items from this movement eschewed any deep meaning and emphasized beauty over any political or social statements. The term “art for art’s sake” is used to sum up the movement. There are several common themes in the Aesthetic Movement: the use of natural motifs, especially flowers, birds and insects; ebonized wood with incised gilt lines; Asian, particularly Japanese, influences; strong blue, green and yellow colors; blue and white ceramics.
The sunflower is one of the most common flowers carved in furniture, while gilt and brass are used for their yellow color. In the mahogany chest pictured at the top the red of the wood contrasts nicely with the gilt sunflower panels and the brass drawer pulls and locks.
These side chairs are of ebonized wood with incised gilt lines. The crestrail has delicate panels of inlay leaves in satinwood and brass.
A more robust corner, or roundabout, chair is made of rosewood and rosewood veneer.
The crestrail is in three parts and is carved with sunflowers, foliage and two butterflies. The arms end in a scrolled sunflower. The back rails are carved with foliage and flowers.
A closer look and you can see the lace wings of the butterfly, its carrot-shaped body, jaunty antenae and gimlet eye.
A magazine rack from the 1860s is elevated with ebonized wood and a Japanese crest on the lowest rack.
Even the smallest pieces of Aesthetic Movement furniture have layers of detail. A small side table of ebonized wood has a top made of mahogany bordered with ebony and brass. A gallery gives the lower shelf the appearance of a balcony.
The table top has two inlays of exotic woods: an Egyptian scarab and a bee:
Liberty & Co. in London made their own line of furniture and this is a typical side table in mahogany with an unadorned top. But on the right side you can see the detail given to this table in the pierced gallery of the lower shelf and the pierced sections of the legs.
Minton brought Japanese artists to England to paint decorative tiles and ceramics. The tiles for this mantle depict birds, lakes and islands of bamboo.
A small cabinet with sides and front of glass shows the influence of Japanese architecture.
The glazed red back panel sings against the ebonized wood.
In the gallery are several pieces that fall into the catagory of “ornamentation for ornamentation’s” sake. Two pieces are by the American avant-garde designer George Hunzinger.