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Having a vision and writing about it for others to read certainly is an
important undertaking. But, having a vision and manifesting it in reality
is nothing less than revolutionary. Pioneers are visionaries who take the
first steps into new territory, unexplored country where the risks are
great and the rewards are unknown. A legacy of documentation and/or physical
results of their journeys or experiments allows us to begin our own work
as if standing on the shoulders of giants.
Three pioneers of arborsculpture lived under widely different
circumstances and all became gripped with the idea of shaping live trees.
Each man applied this idea according to his own inner directive to become
the first known arborsculptors on Earth.
John Krubsack (1858-1941)
“Dammit, one of these days I am going to grow a piece of furniture that
will be better and stronger than any human hands can build.”
John Krubsack was a prominent bank president in the small town
of Embarrass, Wisconsin, US. (The town got its name from the French word
embarras meaning “tangle,” since it was a place where logs
floating downstream to the mill would become tangled.) He was also a naturalist
who farmed and made cheese, and landscaped his property long before that
was a common practice. His house was the first in his whole area to have
running water. He also was skilled at piecing together furniture from found
branches. He’d scour the local river flats with a yardstick and a
saw looking for just the right shaped piece of blue beech, a hardwood tree
with a smooth, wavy bark and a beautiful blue color when varnished. John
would take his youngest son Hugo with him on these weekend wood-hunting
excursions, and it was during one of his trips that the idea first came
to him to grow his own chair.
In a letter sent to his nephew Dennis in 1975, Hugo described
his father’s announcement of the living chair:
“One day after showing the beech furniture to a friend, a Walter Glen,
the president of the F.W.D. Co. at Clintonville, a nearby town, Mr. Glen called
the work fantastic. Then here is what I will never forget for [it was] the
birth of the grown chair. My father told Glen, “Dammit, one of these
days I am going to grow a piece of furniture that will be better and stronger
than any human hands can build.” Glen replied, “John, that I have
got to see!” a remark I never forgot.”
In his own words:
(As quoted from the Milwaukee Journal January 26, 1927)
The grafting and nursing was an extremely delicate piece of
work. Several times some of the trees showed sign of dying. I worked diligently
to preserve life in each one. I guarded against winds and storms knowing
that one broken tree would destroy my idea of some day having a chair grown
by myself.
In ten years I cut all the trees except four (the four legs).
The eleventh year I cut the last four, trimmed the trees, put on the final
touches and then breathed a sigh of great relief. My long desired hope
had come true.
To see the whole chapter, purchase
the book Arborsculpture:
Solutions for a Small Planet
.