FROM THE EDITOR
Two themes emerge in this issue: Arts & Crafts homes, and woodworking. They complement each other, of course, as proven by Gordon Bock’s offbeat article on burnt wood—an ancient Japanese technique that was borrowed for rusticating woodwork in Southern California’s artsy bungalows. Although its 50-year revival has broadened the scope, Arts & Crafts does have parameters of design and period. Dating roughly from 1895 until 1929, the original American Arts & Crafts movement gave us Stickley and Roycroft oak furniture and metalwork, Prairie School design, and the architecture of the California bungalow. As different as the interpretations were, we have learned to recognize Arts & Crafts when we see it.
Still, when I consider the motivations dear to A&C aficionados, I can’t help but note that they are the same as the concerns of those who dwell in First Period Colonials, and Queen Anne Victorians. Every intentional old-house owner appreciates the house as a tangible piece of history, as a social and architectural document. All of us respect craftsmanship, no matter whether it is evidenced in a hand-built Windsor chair, a carved walnut recamier, or stylized roses embroidered on a table scarf.
Every old-house lover learns to identify the style-defining details. Context becomes important: the historic house in its garden, and even how the house fits into the streetscape and the neighborhood.
Old-House Journal hosted, for many years, an Early American crafts show in Philadelphia, where artisans displayed cast-iron firebacks and Federal highboys, fine pewter and mocha-ware bowls. I would come home wishing I lived in an 18th-century house! At the Arts & Crafts Conference, reproduction tabourets and tiles, mossy green vases and copper lamps are shown down the hall from the period’s antiques. And I dream about redoing all the rooms in my 1904 house! All of it is beautiful
. . . it’s all about art and craft.