Rebecca Nemser

Hans Weg­n­er, the leg­endary Dan­ish fur­ni­ture-mak­er, always worked with nat­ur­al mate­ri­als like wood and wool, and his fur­ni­ture reflects both the nat­ur­al world and abstract art; you can see traces of Bran­cusi and Picas­so in it, as well as ani­mals and trees. He designed more than five hun­dred chairs dur­ing his long and illus­tri­ous career. One of them belongs to me.

Work­ing in bronze, that most ancient and endur­ing of mate­ri­als, JUDY MCK­IE’s work reveals the pow­er of art to con­sole and heal. Her Bird Foun­tain has the silent, soar­ing pres­ence of great mourn­ing mon­u­ments. “The water makes you feel calm and peaceful,” she says. “It’s nour­ish­ing. A life force.”

In 1969, TODD and JUDY MCKIE paint­ed ban­ners with the signs of the Zodi­ac for Wood­stock, which peo­ple pulled down to use as tents and blan­kets in the rain. Judy began mak­ing fur­ni­ture in the ear­ly 70s to fur­nish their apart­ment. One day she impul­sive­ly carved two crouch­ing fig­ures into the arms of a butcherblock couch. 

New Eng­land is now the cen­ter of an extra­or­di­nary flour­ish­ing of tra­di­tion­al crafts, espe­cial­ly fur­ni­ture, because some very tal­ent­ed artists have turned to crafts as a way out of the cyn­i­cal and cere­bral “endgame” that so much con­tem­po­rary art is play­ing today.