Charleston Design, Redefined
Contemporary designers take craftsmanship out of the museum and into the mainstream
Written by Jon Yarian

To the uninformed, a mention of Charleston’s decorative arts conjures images of antiques: centuries-old pieces that reflect the style and culture of a bygone era. While the city’s historic furniture, lighting, and other pieces certainly deserve their collective reputation, they can also overshadow exciting contemporary work that reflects the values of a modern community. In reality, the history of fine craftsmanship in Charleston did not end with the Civil War. Instead, it continued in ebbs and flows, adjusting to the economic and social conditions of a city in transition.

The story of Charleston’s artists and craftsmen is inextricably linked to the fate of the city itself. It was once the richest seaport on the North American coast, whose free inhabitants were, per capita, 10 times wealthier than the average New Englander. In that era, planters and merchants supported an exploding decorative arts marketplace that produced truly remarkable work in wood, glass, ceramics, and other materials.

As a measure of the times, consider the sheer volume of work produced by Charleston’s legendary cabinetmaker, Thomas Elfe. During an eight-year period in the mid-18th century, his account books report the completion of no fewer than 1,500 finished pieces of furniture. His legacy of extant pieces, combined with those from his contemporaries (both free and enslaved), are part of the rich artisanal heritage that draws throngs of antiques shoppers to lower King Street each year.

According to Historic Charleston Foundation curator Brandy Culp, the outstanding quality of the work in Charle-ston set it apart from other American style centers. “Clients had the means and desire to acquire the best, and in an effort to satisfy their sophisticated patrons, Charleston artisans adopted the highest standards of craftsmanship using only the finest materials.”
This embarrassment of decorative riches relied on Charleston’s agrarian economy and the cosmopolitan lifestyle it afforded. Rice, indigo, and later cotton created the wealth that supported the work, and it was doomed to fail. The social and economic upheaval of the Civil War, and the abolishment of slavery that came with it, transformed Charleston’s population and prospects.

“For a lot of people, that’s where the story ends,” says Charleston Home magazine editor Ellen McGauley. “But if you dig deeper, you’ll find a rich heritage of craftsmanship that has continued right up to the present day.”

That heritage was considerably enlarged in 1912 when Philip Simmons was born on a small farm on nearby Daniel Island. Simmons soon noticed the wrought-iron gates adorning the big houses on East Bay Street, and became fascinated with their intricate designs. As he explains it, he became “serious in the blacksmith shop” by the age of 13.

By 1938, Simmons was focused on ornamental iron, producing pieces that would transform fences, balconies, and gates across the city. Over the next half-century, Simmons would produce more than 500 of these unique pieces of art, earning a National Heritage Fellowship and countless other honors in the process.

His work is enormously important for two reasons: the intrinsic value of the pieces themselves, but also his fierce dedication to a community that was no longer among the nation’s economic and artistic elite. Simmons’ achievements reflect the broader themes of post-Civil War decorative arts in Charleston. By relying on traditional techniques, these artisans produced unique, contemporary designs that paid homage to the city’s stylistic heritage.

“While the local production of high-style decorative goods ended in the 19th century, indigenous craft flourished,” Culp explains. “African Americans had been making pottery, baskets, and ironwork since their arrival as enslaved peoples, and they have continued these traditions right up to the present day.”

By the late 20th century, Charleston’s fortunes had risen with tourism and the population boom experienced throughout the Southeast. With prosperity came a renewed interest in local craftsmanship and design, leading to greater investment in training and talent. In 1998, Charleston became home to the School of the Building Arts, an organization dedicated to preparing the next generation of skilled craftsmen. Later renamed the American College of the Building Arts, its inaugural class is set to graduate in 2009.

“Today’s local pieces stand very much on their own,” McGauley argues. “What’s happening now is much more than just a continuation. There’s an emphasis on forward-thinking design that has found its way into both our arts community and onto the national stage as well.”

Indeed, Charleston craftsmanship is once again in demand, and not just to antiques hunters. The Urban Electric Company, a local high-end lighting firm, was commissioned to design a birdcage chandelier for the green room at last year’s Academy Awards. Eco-friendly textiles from Lulan were featured at the chic Project GreenHouse space at the Sundance Film Festival.

Despite these Hollywood successes, Charleston designers remain committed to work that is tied to the region and aesthetically connected to its past. In fact, some pieces literally incorporate the past: Jennifer Lamar of John’s Island Woodworks uses reclaimed historic materials to create a sense of depth and complexity in her furniture. Looking ahead, one can only speculate on the artistic future of Charleston. Today, the city is prosperous, much as it was 250 years ago when craftsmen like Thomas Elfe created timeless pieces of art. It boasts an active, eclectic group of artisans whose innovative work is reaching far beyond the boundaries of the Lowcountry. The future of Charleston’s decorative arts is in their capable hands.