Plant Stand American Neighbor of Stugard Family, 1899 Wood (willow sapling) Gift of Lucille (Stugard) McKee MHAHS 2001.101.0121

On November 9, 2001, the Mount Horeb Historical Society received a gift of late 19th and early 20th century farmhouse objects from Lucille McKee (Stugard), whose family has owned a homestead in the Springdale Township for over a century. On February 2, 1899, the donor’s grandparents, Harold H. Stugard, whose surname was sometimes written Stugaarden, (b. June 9, 1871; Springdale, WI) married Miss Betsy Rue and the couple was given a black willow plant stand as a wedding gift from an unidentified neighbor.^[1] With his new wife, Mr. Stugard, the son of pioneers, settled down in Springdale and managed a farm. Twenty years later, the couple moved to Mount Horeb while their son, Banford Stugard took over the Springdale property. Harold Stugard died on June 9, 1871, but was survived by his wife, son Banford, and granddaughter Lucille.

Untouched over the decades, the farm house and its contents, from spice cabinets to vases and a Lefse stick to a quilt, were preserved, retaining the material essence of a former way of life. In many ways, the household has operated as a time capsule; undisturbed since the Great Depression and uninfluenced by technology; it has never even had running water. The stand, thereby, introduces the opportunity for viewers to contemplate rural handicrafts and the household economy in the Midwest circa 1900. Furthermore, it speaks to a sort of 19th century do-it-yourself or D.I.Y. culture, not entirely different from our own in 2016, as well as contemporary style preferences. This essay will examine the practice and ideology of rural handicrafts, such as the production of twig furniture like the plant stand, as contributing to a sense of connectedness to a place and to a prosperous community as suggested by writer Helen Albee and countless others who advocated for the transformative power of crafts for the well-being of the rural community.^[2]

The plant stand, dated to 1899, is composed of rustic blackened nails, barely visible against the aged bent creek willow. Standing 31” in height and 16” by 16” around, the stand is a complex interweaving of short twigs around which long curving branches wrap and add decorative appeal. The stand possesses evidence for frontality as one side of the stand is striated with the subtle remnants of gold paint. Sturdily propped by three crossing legs, the stand is topped with a basket-like container designed to support a potted plant.

Twig furniture, occasionally referenced in home fashion magazines, is typically associated with anonymous craftsmen and rustic styles, appealing to consumers’ desire for local and natural materials. In the case of the Stugard plant stand, the craftsman is unidentified; even the craftsman’s sex is unknown. In this sense, the works have a humble yet mysterious quality, unclaimed and unnamed, they nonetheless speak of a long craft tradition and the cooperative efforts of rural community members.

A short article in House Beautiful titled “Origins of Style: Rustic Style: Rural Twig Furniture” identified 4 primary movements or trends in free-form twig style furnishings, which reference 18th c. English garden furniture made from tree roots. Beginning from the 1840’s, the trends developed from the East Coast fashionable rustic designs possessing rural and urban appeal: 1. Gothic Revival primarily laurel or rhododendron, 2. Civil War period ladder-back chairs, 3. 1870s Basket Work made from willow, 4. Adaptations of 18th c. colonial chairs.^[3] Despite changing style preferences, retaining the original identity of the material has remained central to twig furniture.

In her book, Rustic Furniture, Sue Honacker Stephenson argues that twig furniture possesses a “decorative symbolism” that functions as a rebellion against commercial and industrial excess.  She goes on to interpret the furniture as a statement against modern consumption though the objects denial of industrial facture and its embrace of unfinished material. “As a decorative symbol, a rustic seat is astonishingly literal, being constructed of the bare roots of trees.”^[4] However, her argument weakens when it is tested against class and the differing experiences of urban and rural consumers and makers. For the urban consumer fighting dirty and increasingly crowded cities, bringing natural elements into the home, in a sense, constructed a contrasting refuge from the noise and hurry of the city whereas the rural consumer seems more connected to their local resources and community support.

According to early 20th century writers on the rural craftsman, the twig tradition likely stemmed from the desire for a productive household economy and a prosperous community achieved by the practice and perfecting of handicraft skills as well as a deep personal connection to the land and materials, in this case, the willow. In his essay “The Scope and Drift of the American Arts and Crafts Movement,” Alvan Sanborn describes the contrast between machinery’s artificiality and the movement against it toward naturalism and authenticity. He quotes William Morris before criticizing him for “crudities, exaggerations, extravagances, affectations and absurdities which offer incomparable material to the humorist or social satirist, but which it is quite unnecessary to enlarge upon.”^[5] The writer argues for the beginning of a new epoch of applied arts in America in which even elite households are decorated in a way that is simple and devoid of pretention and avoids magnificence, but upon closer inspection, what appears to be simple is in fact extraordinarily well crafted and possesses incredible value.^[6] Such finely crafted yet simple works are described as art, rather than craft throughout this essay, advocating for the creative agency and practiced skill of the craftsman, less interested in reacting against industrialization and more interested in applying his or her skill to the benefit of the community.

Woven into the twists and folds of willow furniture is a craft tradition that is still performed today, whether by practicing as a craftsman in the creation of a plant stand or as a consumer drawn by the rustic charm of a simple yet elegant unrefined accessory. Such craftsman share in the 19th century experience of gathering resources from the land and using it in aesthetic and utilitarian ways. Today, a web search for willow or twig furniture returns dozens of do-it-yourself samples from popular craft sites such as Etsy, Pinterest, and HGTV announcing nostalgic descriptors such as “homemade” and “rustic.” Similarly, antique and vintage goods stores, advertise vintage willow plant stands as Folk Americana.

One manufacturer titled Twig Factory produces a variety of twig furnishings from chairs, to arbors, bed frames and plant stands. Its web home page describes its product as possessing a sense of tranquility that mimics the feeling of being in nature. The works transform the domestic space into an experience that feels more like a retreat, simultaneously disconnecting the consumer from the rush of industry and reconnecting them to nature: “there is something immediately familiar about willow twig and birch bark, that embraces you and connects your spirit to nature. Rustic willow furniture allows you to bring the spirit of nature into your home, into your hearts, so you can enjoy it year-round.”^[7] By retaining the original texture of the outdoors, twig furniture is particularly disposed to attract consumers seeking domestic objects that, by purposely retaining all of the texture of the original plant, connect the user to nature and recall their fond memories of exploring and experiencing nature.

Upon first sight, the Twig Factory’s plant stands^[8] are nearly indistinguishable in design from the Stugard family plant stand; however, extended looking begins to establish some important differences, which suggest changes in stylistic references. Unlike the Stugard stand, the Twig Factory stand is primarily made from straight branches from an unidentified plant source and they are not painted. In his video introducing consumers to his practice and product, Gary, the self-identified twigologist^[9], introduces himself as a master builder and then discusses his experience in upholstery, which helped him think about how best to construct works that support the human body comfortably and contribute to good posture. He also prioritizes the durability of his product and the combined strength of twigs producing a slightly different aesthetic than the Stugard plant stand’s style.^[10] However, similar to the stand, Gary emphasizes his individuality, describing each work as being uniquely crafted and incorporating excellent quality materials that are mindful of sustainability. Though he calls himself a builder, he subtly hints at the artistic or creative quality of his work, particularly when he uses his materials and craft to build non-functional pieces such as frames and other sculptural twig decorations.

Far more elaborate in his designs, Bill Perkins, builder and owner of Sleeping Bear Twig Furniture based out of Leelanau, Michigan, describes his first encounter with twig furniture and what inspired him to take up building:

I was first introduced as a child to the idea of making furniture from branches, twigs and bark in their natural state. This happened when some neighbors took me along on one of their visits to a friend’s grandmother’s “Up North” cottage, which was furnished in the rustic style. I was really impressed by these twisting and gnarly chairs and tables. My previous experiences with this style had been building tree forts and hideouts as a kid.

Years later, when I moved to northern Michigan in my twenties, I remembered those willow pieces and began to make them myself. I liked the idea of bringing trees inside the house and shaping them into beautiful and functional objects, without losing the character and identity of the materials.^[11]

He goes on to describe plant stands as his initial voyage into the art of twig furniture, contrasting the ricketiness of his first attempts to the elaborate and solid pieces his 25 years of experience has qualified him to produce. In describing his individual style, he identifies the Arts and Crafts movement and Art Nouveau as most influential on his designs, creating an artistic heritage for his functional works.

Perkins goes on to expound upon the centrality of material to his work ultimately tying the quickly renewable willow to the land and the land to his furniture. As willow furniture builder couple Rick and Denise Pratt describe the importance of material, they identify the work sprouting from the swampy landscape, ideal for cultivating willow. Furthermore, they suggest their preference for willow stems from it being an exceptionally renewable resource, making it difficult to exhaust and ideal for efficient furniture production and desirable to today’s consumer interested in sustainability.^[12] The couple need not travel far to avoid exhausting their local resources, because the willow on their property is enough to sustain their craft. Their experience with gathering materials directly from the land is shared by each twig furniture builder mentioned; each shares a deep connection to their nearby environment, suggesting the same from the anonymous Stugard family plant stand maker who likewise must have engaged his or her local resources and skill to produce artistic and utilitarian goods.

A 1987 issue of Metropolitan Home features an article on twig furniture builder’s Michael and Ronna Emmons of Partington Ridge, CA, titled “Laughing Willows’ Whimsical Willow Craft, a Mix of Memory and Modernity, Has Sent Twig Furniture Branching out on a New Path.” The author describes the duo as builder and upholsterer; Michael builds the willow furniture, chairs, headboards, love-seats, tables, and stands, with both the tradition of rustic twig furniture associated to resourceful interaction with their local environment and a reference to contemporary geometric designs, while Ronna uses her fine art experience to design and paint upholstered parts including chair seats. Similar to Bill Perkin’s nostalgic experience, they identify the important role of memory or recalling the objects from one’s past as both inspiring their work and their customer’s interest noting that customers frequently share stories with them about how they recognize twig furniture in relation to their grandparents or other earlier generations. It reminds them of their childhood and their loved ones past, loved ones that also shared an affinity for the natural.^[13]

In the essay “A Toolkit of Dreams: Conversations with American Craft Artists,” woodworker Jere Osgood describes the centrality of nature in his performance of woodworking. Osgood explains,

that sense of being with the things that are going on with the things outside, is very important to me. I don’t have that in the city. The city, of course, would have all sorts of wonderful things, particularly New York City or Boston, the buildings, the things in the museums are priceless. They’re the result of other persons’ profound understanding of things. And it’s important to me just to get out, maybe where the basic things are, and to be out in nature where things are in a formative stage, whereas we see the complete collections at the Museum of Fine Arts. They’re completed of finished, whereas it’s an ongoing, living process being with the trees and the plants.^[14]

Osgood’s affinity for local rootedness and the land, drawing both inspiration and material from things that grow from the ground and continue to grow into his work, are clearly evident in the work of the twig or willow furniture builder in his or her choice to utilize a material that retains all of its original character, as though their works continue to grow up from the floor, incorporating the outdoor experience and closeness to nature within the domestic space.

This awareness of nature and industry is also recognized in the 1897 essay “Rural Prosperity” by Edmund Verney in which he describes the territory of Württemberg^[15], a once impoverished and overpopulated German territory that was transformed into a production center for blankets, carpets, paper, wood-carving, furniture, and clocks. He attributes this transformation to Dr. Von Steinbeis, the President of the Board of Trade in Württemberg, who was inspired by the handicraft presence of rural communities showcased in the 1851 London Exhibition. Steinbeis saw the same potential to create within his own national population. After instituting various schools and centers for trades and handicrafts, the industrious people of Württ emberg worked hand-in-hand with both industry and agriculture to produce all manner of goods for both domestic and international consumers. “The secret of…prosperity is the association of industrial with agricultural life, as in Württemberg. The Swiss farmer is very often also a wood-carver or a maker of watch-springs; at times, too, he will act as a guide for tourists.”^[16] Verney describes Württemberg’s prosperous union of industry and craft as a model for rural communities.  He emphasizes the moral nature of “honest” work tracing the area’s handicraft tradition alongside the communities’ prioritization of hand labor as opposed to mechanical labor:

“The readiness with which the people will adapt themselves to any honest means of livelihood is shown in the case of wood carving. It is recorded that in the year 1819 the first wood carver arrived in Berne, one Christian Fischer, who taught this art to the young men for the employment of their winter’s evenings, and now it is the constant occupation of 6,000 persons.”^[17]

For Verney, a prosperous community is both agricultural and industrial; it is productive and educated in trades and arts in order to produce goods that activate the full range of the community’s resources and skills. In the same way, the plant stand tradition utilizes local renewable resources in a craft simple enough to be taken up as a productive evening activity, but specialized enough to require practice and skill like Bill Perkins developing his trade from his first rickety plant stands to solid, substantial works of furniture.

While arguing for the pivotal importance education has on rural prosperity, Verney also advocated for the moral impact of handiwork on the individual. He asserted that “first, it makes work real; secondly, it teaches accuracy; and, thirdly, the pupil learns that moral qualities like patience and determination are essential to progress.”^[18] He continues by listing the virtues of handicraft: “diligence, perseverance, love of order, neatness, dexterity, caution, a love of construction, a respect for the work of men’s hands, and a contempt for wanten destruction.” ^[19] Similar to the ways in which 19th c. middle-class women were encouraged to perform various forms of fancy work for its moralizing quality, Verney exhorts his reader to learn and master handicrafts, which instill in the student certain moral virtues necessary for learning and thoughtfully executing quality works. He identified characteristics such as diligence as likely associated with the education and perfection of a craft, neatness necessary to produce works with both efficiency and simplicity, and respect developed from understanding and appreciating the time and skill required of a craftsman. All such qualities are carefully constructive to producing effective members of a fruitful rural society.

A similar essay published in 1902 identifies an Arts and Crafts Movement in rural Deerfield, MA as exemplar for rural prosperity. Titled “May Solve a Rural Problem: How the Art Handicraft Movement at Deerfield Mass., May Spread to Other Towns – Success Meets the Associated Workers in Beaten Brass, Colonial Furniture and ‘Grandmother’ Rugs,” the article posits a solution to the decaying rural village, suggesting that the handicraft movement in Deerfield may envisage similar movements westward. The author contrasts the resident’s former “hap-hazard sort of fashion” from when they were a decaying town to the new serious, livelihood sustaining pursuit of craft. The author describes how Deerfield’s female embroiderers began to “realize the dignity of a craft” and male woodworkers, though a minority of the Deerfield Arts and Craft Society, as competent producers of Colonial furniture.^[20] For the embroiderer, the work was no longer merely craft, it was artistic. Instead it was transformed in their minds and level of dedication to a serious trade to the degree that it might be said, “in Deerfield…everything is artistic.”^[21] Further advocating for the self-sufficiency and economy of the rural town, the author writes, “everything that is making the fame of the village was found, in embryo at least, within it. Nothing has been imported,” which echoes the concern of even twig furniture builders today who emphasize the importance of producing work from the local environment.

Describing the Arts and Crafts Movement in America, Rho Fisk Zueblin highlights the importance of association and inheritance in his essay “The Arts and Crafts Movement: The Production of Industrial Art in America II”: “Home industries always have the alluring claims of association and inheritance, and bear the ‘tool-marks’ of personality.” ^[22] The 19th century craftsman felt connected to rich cultural pasts by practicing folk traditions or looking to great artworks of the past for inspiration.  Most art historical texts define the Arts and Crafts movement as a direct response against industry and the romanticizing of nature a response against overcrowded, dirty cities.^[23]  Zueblin writes, “art work that is springing up on the mountains and in the sleepy hollows…may represent some eager soul who is finding it helpful and happy to work out art problems alone and in close touch with nature.”^[24] For him, the pursuit of nature is equated with happy isolation that leads to creative clarity.  In other words, the craftsman removes him or herself from the bustling and distracting cities in order to find artistic inspiration. He continues: “Thus are fashioned objects to be cherished and valued on account of their personal feeling and character, and such are the fireside arts done by talented individuals.”^[25] Zueblin finishes this section of his essay by emphasizing the individual’s talent and character as requisite to produce cherished works.  His highly sentimental writing on the Arts and Crafts movement shows how romantically people thought of handicrafts toward the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century.

Though the plant stand’s anonymous maker leaves viewers with little assurance as to his professional skill, experience, and intention, the plant stand, preserved for over 100 years, likely possessed the sense of “cherished and valued” personal character that this 1903 author describes. Furthermore, the author connects rural handicraft with ties to both nature and personal feeling along with the satisfaction of working out technical problems and developing their skill.  Viewers might perceive the plant stand as both representing the Springdale community’s natural resources as well as its resident’s esteem for handicrafts, particularly given that the craft was appropriate gift for a wedding. However, as Zueblin writes, “the interest in home industries has a broader outlook and deeper social significance than is found in the work of individual artists,” proceeding to reiterate the same conclusion as the previous two sources writing, “The revival of cottage crafts in most cases has meant either the renewal of traditional arts or the introduction of a handicraft for community betterment.”^[26]  In this case, the community betterment is exercised in the support and well-wishes of a young couple embarking on their journey as neighbor Springdale farmers.

Quoted in Zueblin’s text, Oscar Lovell Trigg rejects the notion of the Arts and Crafts movement as simply an aversion to machinery as quoted in “Chapters in the Arts and Crafts Movement.” Contrary to much art historical literature, Trigg writes, “[the Arts and Crafts Movement is not] a fanatical protest against machinery or a revival of the domestic system of the middle ages.” In scholarship, 19th century medievalism is closely tied to the Arts and Crafts movement. But this writer suggests that the Arts and Crafts movement in not about looking back to medieval systems, but looking forward to “the first stages of a new industrialism answering to the demand of the works for more individual expression and of consumers for the satisfaction of their individual and higher wants.”^[27] Instead of placing the greatest weight on a medieval inheritance, he pivots toward individual expression, aligning with the growing middle class eager to incorporate artistic objects in their homes.

Twig willow furniture clearly fits into this philosophy as the sense of place and self-sufficiency are primary themes to each of these author’s arguments. Each has a clear concern for community betterment by activating and ennobling the local resources through artistic means. The twig plant stand achieves this mission by both acting as the embodiment of a learned skill requiring moral diligence and appreciation for handiwork. It also embodies the place in which the craftsmen live, a place in which they cultivate and develop deep meaningful connections to one another and to the land.

In addition to speaking to the 19th and early 20th century philosophies on the qualities of a prosperous rural town and the participation and skill specialization of its population, the plant stand is an interesting impression of a much larger 19th and early-20th century interest in wicker or rattan furnishings often made from willow twigs, reeds, and other pliant twig plants. In his book The Collector’s Guide to American Wicker Furniture, Richard Saunders claims that wicker furniture “captured the mood of the times to a ‘T,’ reveling in the adoration of the home as an island of refuge that celebrated any handmade or eclectic decoration.”^[28] Likewise, countless primary sources, from advertisements to articles on home decoration, emphasize the appeal of willow furnishings. Between 1911 and 1915, the periodical Art & Decoration published articles by various authors titled “The Informal Note in Summer Furniture,” “The Use and Beauty of Willow Furniture,”  and “The Adaptable Willow: Its Appeal of Structure Line and Form.”^[29] At the same time, advertisements use language such as “The Final Note of Comfort,” “Hand – Wrought Willow Furniture commands a place in even the most lavish home,” “no other investment insures artistic results at such a low cost,” (Figure 6.)^[30] and “see these unique pieces to realize the home-like atmosphere they impart.”^[31] Advertisements highlight desirable qualities inherent in willow furnishings including being handmade, artistic, and low cost.

Many authors have discussed the far-reaching trends of wicker and Adirondack styles. Jeremy Adamson’s American Wicker: Woven Furniture from 1850 to 1930 published in 1993 and accompanied by an exhibition hosted by the Renwick Gallery of the National Museum of American Art and Craig Gilborn’s 1987 book Adirondack Furniture and the Rustic Tradition, which features a large selection of twig furniture, both set the atmosphere for willow furnishing’s design.^[32][33] However, they fail to answer questions about the tradition of crafting home-made furniture as addressed by the ideologies of the rural community economy. Perceiving both the class implications of curating an aesthetic domestic environment by incorporating popular wicker trends along with the rural community’s emphasis on resourcefulness suggest that the plant stand might at once be the product of contemporary home décor styles as well as the preservation of the rural economy.

In conclusion, the plant stand speaks to the resourcefulness and skill of the 19th century rural community and the anonymous individuals that contributed to binding and supportive relationships that created a prosperous community unit. Aesthetically appealing wicker furnishings introduced nature to the home through its rustic, natural finish and simple, plantlike structure, resonating with both ideals of natural beauty and tranquility as well as contemporary home fashions with their class implications. In developing and exercising their skill, the rural craftsman supported both the utilitarian as well as aesthetically moralizing needs of his or her community.