Wiring Not Included
This little guy came home with hubby and me the other evening from a “presale” at a local collector’s sale. I had been to prior sales and his things are wonderful, often handmade, unique and quirky - a vibe hubby and I have always loved. I wanted hubby to see the current sale as we hadn’t been ‘antiquing’ together in a long while. Years ago we would scour antique fairs and stores together, but eventually hubby couldn’t stomach going as he found the markets depressing – piles of old things with people just waiting for a sale. As the recent sale was from a man with very expensive taste – and the money to indulge – I wasn’t surprised hubby loved many things, and we marveled over quite a few. I spotted this little wooden man and decided he needed a home. Hubby fell in love with a lamp, but that’s a later story.
I asked the owner what he knew about the wooden guy’s history. He said he’d picked him up in New England at a sale awhile back, but I didn’t pry for more information (shocking, I know). He is hand carved out bits of wood. His top hat, face (with small screw for a nose) and body are all one piece. I suspect it’s from an old porch rail; the curves and indents remind me of the farmhouse porch we built on our first home in Libertyville.
The arms are carved from a single piece of wood, ‘bent’ at the elbows, with shoulder joints made from metal screws. (Dang what I wouldn’t give for a ‘metal screw’ for a shoulder these days: climbing is tough with old bones and joints.) My wooden fellow’s legs are made of two pieces, hinged at the knee and hip with old screws as well. While he moves and is adorable, his bottom is not exactly flat, so he tends to tilt to the side when seated.
I wish I knew more of his actual history. He is considered a ‘folk art’ sculpture, and I am guessing he was made in the early 1900s. In a rural community, likely in upstate New York or possibly Pennsylvania. Those areas were significantly more ‘rural’ back in that era, and he seems a toy made for a child. He has been handled, his wood is smooth and worn a bit, and his joints are loose. But I sensed he would enjoy a sojourn in our family room with Calder’s circus master and circus theme. Thankfully he did not need any surgery and promptly was placed on a ledge. Unlike hubby’s lamp treasure which is now on my “to do” list.
The lamp was on a ‘project’ table, full of cool old lamps needing wiring or shades or both. Hubby loved it, and I thought the lightness of the glass was cool. As it was wired, I blithely hoped it only needed a shade. The owner gave me detailed specifications as to what shape and size shade I would need. Oddly, I had a silk lamp shade up in the attic closet that fit perfectly. Funny enough I cannot recall what lamp it came off of, but I have a pile of old silk shades stored in that closet as you never know when you’ll find a super cool lamp that needs a shade. If you have never priced well-made silk shades, I promise you would be shocked at how expensive they are. My go to ‘store’ for lamp shades is, not surprising, the local thrift store. In any case, with the shade and some “Edison” lightbulbs in hand I plugged it in. Blew a fuse, with an odd fizzing sound. Uh oh. Now I have to re-wire the darn thing as it clearly has a wiring issue. I am slightly nervous to do so as the lamp has numerous handblown glass pieces, and I am scared to death I will drop something. I will likely set up surgery on a sofa just to be safe.
I wish I could say something about the light, but sadly I cannot find any information about it. It is unmarked, but seems to be ‘Hollywood Regency’ style, probably 1940s, based on the switch and the up-facing light bulbs. Lamps are one of those things people really don’t pay much attention to, so resale of vintage lamps is a limited market. I would mention, however, that lamps can also be stunning pieces of artwork in their own right, as this one clearly falls into the “way cool” handmade aesthetic. Our house is filled with unusual lamps, and now I have to work on hubby’s treasure, which will brighten the dining table where I sit writing. Each time I see it I will remember our fun outing, my charming folk art man, and the dangers of vintage sales – wiring not included!
