Finding the perfect place for our antique door furniture.
When magpies visit boot sales and junk shops the challenge they face is where to display their treasured items once returned to the nest. And so it was with a set of antique door furniture: three hinges and a ring-turn handle that had rattled around our cottage since forever.
Moved from cupboard to table and back again with no place to call its own, this once cherished collection became an irritation - clutter that took up valuable space. It deserved better care.
Design with Ease
We assume the metalwork to be Medieval, because nothing is identical when examined closely. Other candidates are the Gothic Revival of 1830 to 1880 and perhaps, less likely, the Arts and Crafts Movement of the late 19th to early 20th centuries, which both embraced the hand made. To our untrained eyes it is hard to tell from which period they hail. Mystery adds to the charm. Although if you have any ideas of age we would love to hear from you.
Whatever the origins, this door furniture has acquired a folk art status that allows the imagination to blossom. We are curious about the blacksmith who forged them and the life he and his family led. We marvel at the skills required to twist red hot metal to form an exquisitely turned rope handle and to hammer the more delicate floral details.
“Striving to become minimalist it is difficult to silence the inner magpie's call when it comes to collecting unusual objects and stray furniture.”
We would be intrigued to know whether the blacksmith created the design or was given a pattern to follow by those who commissioned the work. And what of the door this ironwork once adorned? We suppose it to have been a church door. One through which generations of parishioners passed. It could equally have been the door to a manor house or (dipping into fantasy mode) a secret door to the underground entrance of an enchanted castle.
Not everyone will appreciate the beauty of this metalwork or want it in the home. At Hedgeberry it is a welcome guest. We decided not to use it outside in a mock-up Secret Garden scenario; fearful the elements would erode the rich patina acquired over years of faithful service. It is the pitted texture and mellow, timeworn paint that makes this set so special.
Taken from its original setting and function our dilemma has been how best to treat the objects.
Sometimes the solution to a problem literally stares you in the face. One morning we struggled to find space for our mugs on a coffee table piled high with correspondence, papers and the migratory ironwork. It was early and caffeine had not yet worked its magic. We slumped on the sofa with tea in hand and stared mindlessly ahead. Across the room we spied three unadorned panels between the beams. Inspiration flashed.
It took only fifteen minutes of mild effort to hang the collection and, after an overdue appointment with a paper shredder, the coffee table was returned to its primary function. No longer did it act as a collection point for stray items. Job done. Calm restored.
The designer Abigail Ahern is an inspiration for the ways in which she displays eclectic objects for dramatic effect. At Hedgeberry our cottage windows are small and let in limited light. We have often wondered whether to go for one of Abilgail's dark interiors. At present we lack the courage to do so. Maybe we should throw caution aside. However, before contemplating yet another project we are mindful of more pressing tasks. One being a potting shed makeover that currently consists of head scratching and sighs as we wait for the sun to shine.