Local Hidden Treasure

Simple & sweet. Though plain in style, this walnut country clock’s tall case has a glow that needs no gilding or carving.

You might drive by one every day, tucked away from the main road.

I drove right by it for years, never suspecting there was a time capsule of American furniture right under my nose. The Spring Hill Historic Home is tucked away out of sight up a long tree-lined gravel road in Massillon, Ohio. The original land grant for the property is dated 1813, when this state was a wilderness, but even then it was quickly changing from one big woods to one big farm.

Its green meadows gave way to urban sprawl, and now the rambling farmhouse is an island. One would hardly guess from its plain white exterior that it’s chock-full of simple furniture pieces from when the land was opening up for settlement. The families that called it home prospered and, over time, added rooms and a menagerie of furniture, mostly spanning the 19th century, from high-style Regency to Victorian, Arts & Crafts, Eastlake and a handful of mongrels of unknown pedigree. The only common denominator is that much of the furniture is handmade, and even the later factory-made pieces were from shops that employed skilled furniture makers.

Close to Home

A worn warmth. This stool reflects both the harshness of its environment on the frontier and the comfort it brought its owners.

As much as I like museums in large cities with collections of iconic furniture from America and around the globe, I have a soft spot for local house museums. There is often an opportunity to see the collection up close and more in depth than in an art gallery setting. Usually the big museums have sensors with alarms to keep you at bay, even if all you are doing is bending down for a closer look with your reading glasses on.

Maybe it’s only me, but I find that security guards in the decorative arts sections of large museums are particularly suspicious of woodworkers lingering over a piece of furniture a bit too long.

In contrast, I’ve learned that if I show a genuine interest in the history of a house museum, I’m often granted permission to look closer, even at the undersides and guts of a furniture piece. Yes, I want to look at the exterior of a table or chest, but as a woodworker, I really want to see the maker’s marks. I want to inspect the joinery, see what worked or, often, what joinery didn’t work.

The little things. Crown moulding details such as this are just asking to be stolen and re-imagined.

I also like house museums because they frequently have examples of early furniture that was crafted locally, meeting a need but also bringing a bit of comfort to the harsh existence on the frontier. There is an honesty in it that I’m drawn to, even if the proportions are a bit off or the joinery is primitive. In fact, it’s often that homespun quality that attracts me to it. It may be loosely based on high-style furniture, but it’s stripped down and without the refinement that larger urban markets demanded. I have to admit, in a wide-ranging collection like here at Spring Hill, there is quite a bit of furniture in the house I don’t care for.

I’ve found over the years that as my building and design skills have improved, my opinions about furniture are more pronounced. Furniture that speaks to my taste holds more delight for me, and furniture I dislike seems to grate on me even more. I can also look back and realize that furniture I once swooned over decades ago no longer holds my attention. We furniture makers are a fickle lot. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t hidden design lessons, even in the furniture we dislike.

Hidden Lessons   

All show? Was this turner just trying to show off, or is there something fun underneath these bold shapes?

Tossing my opinions aside, I’ll share a secret with you if you don’t tell anyone you heard it from me. Often the furniture you don’t like can be filled with ideas and inspiration – if you slow down and pay attention.

I’ve always made a practice of listening to people I disagree with. Though it’s not always easy, this has served me well – seeing things from another perspective can be eye opening. Also, from a purely human standpoint, it’s more difficult to dismiss another person while you are talking over a cup of coffee, looking in the other’s eye.

Light sensitive. This carving disappears in shadow but sparkles under a shaft of sunlight.

The same goes for furniture. Experience has shown me time and again that gems are hidden away in almost every furniture style, with few exceptions. The key is to resist the urge to dismiss it. Look at the details, examine it closely and try to ignore the surface noise that turns you away. You just might spot that small patch that glimmers. Take time to really look at the curves. Do they flow or flounder? Look closely at the carving and try to imagine whether it adds to the piece or detracts from it. Would it look better if the carving was cut more deeply or could it benefit by toning it back? Did the selection and placement of veneers enhance the piece?

Try to ignore your prejudices and see it for the first time. You may find it’s easier to find ideas in a room full of furniture you don’t like, rather than that with which you are more familiar.

Vignette

Unfamiliar vignettes. Curves that sing show up in unexpected places, such as in this teapot or other non-furniture forms.

One practice that helps me really see these details is taking snapshots of small details. Instead of trying to capture that broad portrait that includes a room setting, I focus on small cropped details that might show how a carving reflects the sunlight shining in the window. If you focus on the small, you can often see the hand of the builder and notice the tool and wear marks that are part of the story a piece has to tell. Look closely at the textures, especially the wear of furniture left outside where the elements carved their signature.

I find when I get into that up-close mode I even notice some fun design elements in non-furniture items. A graceful curve on some crockery can be exciting and might just be the spark that sets your imagination in a new direction. So just forget that some of this furniture reminds you of your cranky in-laws, and let your eyes look beyond.