Now Through February 28 Chilton is a family-owned, Maine company dedicated to selling fine, wood furniture, all American-made. Much of our furniture is handcrafted in small Maine workshops, and we also work with boutique craftsmen in New Hampshire, Vermont and the Midwest. We specialize in Shaker, Cottage, Arts & Crafts, Modern, Live Edge and Reclaimed Wood furniture, as well as regionally inspired Art, hand crafted Home Accessories and a variety of unique Artisan collections found only at Chilton. Read about our story and mission.The requested URL /search?s=Gustav+Stickley was not found on this server. Wednesday, February 8th 2017 @ 8:18pm EST 31 Bids (View History) Have a similar piece to sell? Get in touch with one of our experts. Current Bid + $1 Current Bid + $2 Current Bid + $5 Current Bid + $10 Current Bid + $25 Current Bid + $50 Current Bid + $100 EVERYTHING BUT THE HOUSE, EBTH, and the Keyhole Logo are trademarks of EBTH, Inc.
All his major commissions were between 1896 and 1906, where he designed private homes, commercial buildings, interior renovations, churches, and furniture.Sam Maloof, whose simple, elegant wooden furniture, which he designed and made by hand, made him a central figure in the postwar American crafts movement, died at his home in Alta Loma, Calif., on Thursday. Skip to next paragraph The latest on the arts, coverage of live events, critical reviews, multimedia extravaganzas and much more. The death was confirmed by Roslyn Bock, the business manager of Sam Maloof Woodworking.Mr. Maloof, who was self-taught, developed a distinctive design aesthetic that blended traditional and modern styles in functional furniture; its sleek, curving, gently sculptural forms made him highly sought after by private clients and museum curators alike. His signature piece, a rocking chair whose long, inward-pointing rockers vaguely resembled antelope horns, became part of the White House’s arts and crafts collection after a donor gave one to Ronald Reagan, and his work is part of the permanent collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
“The work is timeless,” said Jeremy Adamson, who organized an exhibition of Mr. Maloof’s work for the Renwick Gallery of the Smithsonian American Art Museum in 2001. “He remained committed to values of craftsmanship and integrity that made him a beacon for woodworkers around the world. That furniture will last forever.”Samuel Solomon Maloof was born in Chino, Calif., one of nine children of Lebanese immigrants. A woodworking enthusiast even as a child, he made his mother a broad spatula for turning bread and, more ingeniously, carved dollhouse furniture, cars and a toy revolver with a spinning chamber. After winning a poster contest in high school, he was hired to do graphic design work for a company that made air filters for heavy-duty internal combustion engines. He also did printing and poster work for the Padua Hills Theater in nearby Claremont and later went to work for a small industrial design company that built displays for Bullock’s, the department store. In 1941 he was drafted into the Army, for which he did engineering drawings of gun emplacements in the Aleutian Islands.
After the war, he worked as an assistant to Millard Sheets, the head of the art department at Scripps College in Claremont. There he met Alfreda Ward, an art student, whom he married in 1948. She died in 1998. He is survived by their two children, Samuel W. Maloof of Mentone, Calif., and Marilou Delancey of Alta Loma; his wife, Beverly Wingate; a stepson, Todd Wingate; For the house he bought in Ontario, Calif., Mr. Maloof made furniture out of discarded oak planks from dismantled packing crates and plywood sheets. In 1951 Better Homes and Gardens devoted a feature article to his do-it-yourself designs, and some furniture he made for a ranch-style house in West Covina came to the attention of The Los Angeles Times, which featured it in its Sunday home-design magazine. That year, the industrial designer Henry Dreyfuss commissioned him to furnish Dreyfuss’s new home and office in Pasadena. “I was working out of a one-car garage,” Mr. Maloof told The New York Times in 2001. “I didn’t have power tools — nothing.
He called and said, ‘You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.’ I just about collapsed.” Mr. Maloof designed and made 25 pieces for Dreyfuss, for a grand total of $1,800.By instinct Mr. Maloof developed an approach that drew comparisons to Shaker and Scandinavian Modern styles. He worked almost entirely by hand, using no nails or metal hardware, the design emerging as he worked. Precise joinery and repeated sanding and polishing lent his work a rock-solid integrity and silken luster that help explain why one of his rocking chairs sold at auction last year for $51,000. “You can’t help but stroke the darn things,” Mr. Adamson said. Relying entirely on commission work, Mr. Maloof created about 50 pieces a year. Besides turning out the rocking chairs, priced at about $20,000, he made tables, desks, cabinets and chairs. Clients could wait years for delivery, although those who wanted a cradle for their babies immediately jumped to the head of the line. Mr. Maloof’s most ambitious project was the house he bought in 1953 in Alta Loma.
Located in a citrus grove at the foot of the San Gabriel Mountains, it had six rooms. Over the decades, he added 16 more rooms with handmade redwood doors and windows, carved door handles in the shape of flying fish or tusks, Douglas fir rafters and toilet seats in English oak and black walnut. In 2000 when the state of California decided to put a freeway through Mr. Maloof’s citrus grove, it worked out an agreement to dismantle the house and move it three miles away, where it now functions as a museum and as headquarters of the Sam and Alfreda Maloof Foundation for Arts and Crafts. In 1985 Mr. Maloof became the first craftsman to receive a MacArthur Foundation fellowship. He declined to identify himself as an artist. His business stationery carried the letterhead “Sam Maloof/Designer-Woodworker,” and his autobiography, published in 1983, was titled “Sam Maloof: Woodworker.” As for the tables and chairs, they were meant to be used. “They don’t need a sign that says, ‘Do Not Touch,’ ” he told The Christian Science Monitor in 1985. “