Charles Hummel, circa 1990, Photo courtesy Winterthur.

Compiled by Madelia Hickman Ring, Editor

I really appreciated Charlie’s broad insights on museums. With several others, Charlie consulted for a museum where I worked. The leadership very much wanted to expand, taking over several sites owned by another museum that had closed for financial reasons. At one point in the discussion, Charlie hummed “Taps.” He then convinced the group that it was indeed time for the other institution to fold and that our institution would be crippled if we took on those sites. “Taps” forever lingers as a reminder for knowing when to not over-extend an institution.

Anne Verplanck
Former curator of Prints & Paintings, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

I owe my museum career to Charlie Hummel! Having a BA in Physics and six years working as an engineer in the Southern California aerospace industry, but with an eagerness to move into a curatorial career, I applied to the Winterthur Program in 1966. I was invited to Interview Weekend, but when I met the other applicants and began to know their backgrounds, I felt there wasn’t a chance. I recall one question that was repeatedly asked in interviews, “What salary do you make now? $15,000. What do you expect to make after two years in the Winterthur Program? $7,500. Are you prepared to do that? Yes. I’m single and I can live on that.”

I wasn’t their first choice. I was an Alternate. If one of the “chosen” turned it down, I would be invited. Two weeks later, I received the call that changed my life: “Would you like to join the Winterthur Program? No scholarship, but University tuition would be waived.” Charlie once remarked to me that he had argued strongly with the interview committee that, despite my weak decorative arts credentials, I showed promise. It was only because of his support that I was named an Alternate and my museum career commenced!

I sold everything but my books and car and traveled to Delaware. Two wonderful years later, Charlie invited to join the Winterthur staff as assistant curator in charge of Ceramics and Glass. Later, because of my scientific background, “associate curator and in Charge of Conservation” was added to my title. I was on staff for five years, reporting to Charlie.

During my second year in the program, I was invited to meet the following year’s interviewees and tour the collections with them to give them a chance to know more about the program and the museum. I recall looking across the Charleston Dining Room during a reception following the tour and saw Lorri; we were married three years later.

While I was on staff, Lorri pursued a PhD in Art History at UDel. We left Winterthur in 1993 and moved to Corning, N.Y., where I joined that museum’s staff. We maintained connections with Winterthur, visiting friends we had made, and I occasionally lectured about glass to the Fellows.

In 1992, John Herdeg called to invite me to interview for the Directorship of Winterthur. I was amazed and, of course, honored, but I had no intention of leaving what I considered my dream job as director of the Corning Museum of Glass. Nonetheless, I came to the interview but told the committee not to invite me to become director because I had no intention of accepting it. Perhaps that’s what persuaded them to offer me the position! It took three days of discussion with Lorri, but eventually I accepted the invitation.

Because Charlie had retired, I realized a key staff position was open that I would need to fill. My focus was on finding someone who had demonstrated superb curatorial abilities and who had the maturity to lead both Curatorial and Conservation. I immediately met Charlie and asked who he considered to be the outstanding curators in the field. He named several and I interviewed many, most of whom were Winterthur Program graduates. My eventual choice was Brock Jobe, whom I had known as a student in the program, and whose career I had followed from afar. There followed more than seven years of professional and personal pleasure in leading Winterthur toward its second 50 years as the outstanding institution in American decorative arts and conservation studies.

My museum career and my association with Winterthur were entirely due to Charlie!

Dwight Lanmon
Director emeritus, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

I was saddened to learn of the passing of my friend, Charles F. “Charlie” Hummel. Charlie was, in every sense, both a gentleman and a scholar.

I first encountered his work in 1979 as a student at Hamilton College. Among the few books in my dorm room was Charlie’s With Hammer in Hand, his groundbreaking 1968 book about the Dominy family of craftsmen. The depth of his research, clarity of his analysis and brilliance of his conclusions inspired me. As a Fellow at Historic Deerfield that summer, I wrote my thesis paper on the Windsor chairmakers of Northampton, Mass., 1790-1820, which was published the following year in The Magazine Antiques. His example had given me a methodology: how to interpret and translate account books and surviving objects as part of a larger story of socioeconomics.

Later, I had the great pleasure of knowing Charlie personally. On behalf of Winterthur, he was always a gracious host, and, over the years, we shared many pleasant lunches and dinners. I remember his mention of the time in 1958 that he briefly stepped away from Winterthur to serve in the Army. I told him he had the look of a military officer, saying “You certainly fit the bill.” With a smile, he explained what drew him back: he “missed Winterthur and all its treasures — both the human variety and, of course, the inanimate objects.”

Charlie’s scholarship broke new ground and his kindness left a lasting mark. He was a giant in our field. I will always remember him with gratitude and respect.

Leigh Keno
Keno Auctions, New York City

Charles Hummel as deputy director, circa 1980s. Photo courtesy Winterthur.

In 1957, Winterthur Museum acquired a comprehensive collection of hand tools, documents, clocks and furniture made and used by the East Hampton, Long Island, Dominy family of woodworkers and clockmakers. After returning from military service to his curatorial position at the museum, Charlie took on the assignment of cataloging the collection and writing the masterful book With Hammer in Hand, The Dominy Craftsmen of East Hampton, New York, published in 1963. Well into retirement, Charlie continued to come to his Winterthur office daily, to work on a variety of projects, including initiating a collaborative venture with the University of Wisconsin library to digitize the Dominy archive and With Hammer in Hand and to host “Appendix C” of the book, a running catalog of Dominy furniture discovered after the date of publication. Having had the privilege of collaborating with Charlie to reinstall the Dominy Gallery, I am but one of many to have been swept up by the tide of Charlie’s passion to study and tell the Dominy story — and to have a shared interest in the Dominys blossom into a cherished friendship. Over the years, Charlie nurtured such friendships with a host of others who first connected with him over the Dominys, including Baltimore lawyer and chairmaker Jennie Alexander, who, in the 1970s, went on to almost single-handedly revive the ancient practice of making furniture from green, freshly-cut wood. Charlie recounted it was he who first told her about early chairmakers’ and joiners’ use of riven green wood. Together they x-rayed, took apart and studied Dominy chairs, and I am sure he felt just as keenly as she the excitement of gaining new insights. Through his work with the Dominy collection and on many other Winterthur projects, Charlie advanced the field of material culture studies in important and meaningful ways. Even as he reveled in connoisseurial detail when studying chairs, lathes and workbenches, he never lost sight of, in his words, “what really matters: the people stories.” Through his friendships and collaborations with others he multiplied many times over the power and reach of his scholarship to enlarge “the people stories.” He showed us how a generosity of spirit, sharing of knowledge and enthusiasm for discovery can move the entire field forward even as it cements friendships that enrich our individual lives.

Joshua W. Lane
Lois F. and Henry S. McNeil curator of Furniture, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

Charlie Hummel was a most remarkable man, a dear friend and truly one of the most deeply engaged and empathic people I’ve ever met. At Chipstone, we were so fortunate to have had him as a vital board member for 35 years, and over that time his dedication to the Foundation was heartfelt and far reaching both in depth and breadth. Indeed, there was never a single project on which he did not offer 110 percent of his time and attention, willingly participating in all manner of initiatives from teaching to publication to collection advising to foundation planning. Of course, he always was keenly interested in the material culture of early America, as evidenced by his wonderful scholarship and teaching over the years, but he also was always excited to critically consider new ways of thinking and seeing.

For the past 26 years, which marks my time at Chipstone, Charlie played a key role in helping to expand our acquisition program, helping to create important collections of early African-American material culture, contemporary Indigenous ceramics and contemporary craft. True to his spirit, this great range of historical knowledge was shared with so many others over a nearly 70 year career, which centered around a steadfast dedication to his students. When I worked with Colonial Williamsburg back in the 1990s, it was always a delight to see Charlie energetically guide young scholars around the Historic Area to learn first-hand from the gifted artisans who were keeping alive traditional craftways. More recently, we connected Charlie with our talented digital content colleagues at the University of Wisconsin to bring his seminal and timeless work With Hammer In Hand: The Dominy Craftsmen of East Hampton, New York online in its entirety. Not surprisingly, he leapt into this project with full focus, expanding appendices and updating information, images and references.

Looking back, it is hard to put into words how grateful I am to have been able to so closely engage with Charlie over the past 40 years, and so many others feel the same way. The decorative arts/material culture world has lost one of its greatest champions, and his impact on our field will resonate for decades to come. On a personal level, Charlie meant all the more to me because when my parents first met each other as first-year students in the Winterthur Program in Early American Culture in 1955, he and Marlene were among their first friends and this kindness was never forgotten. Today, at the age of 95, my dad still has only the most gracious and complimentary words about both of them, and he still praises Charlie’s immense dedication to the study of early American material culture. We have lost one of the great men in our field but we all were so blessed to have known Charlie Hummel and to have experienced his boundless joy and energy.

Jonathan Prown
Executive director and chief curator, Chipstone Foundation

The decorative arts field has no shortage of scholars with impressive histories of research, publication and public speaking, but few have legacies that approach that of Charles Hummel. What made Charles so special was his unwavering loyalty to his family, friends and students. He was more than generous with his time and knowledge, and he always put his commitment to the countless people and institutions he helped guide over personal gain. Charles was a man with a good soul. Those of us who were fortunate enough to be touched by that soul are much the better for it and feeling his loss.

Luke Beckerdite

Charles Hummel (center in light jacket), with the Winterthur Program in Early American Culture Class of 1955 and others. Photo courtesy Winterthur.

I met Charles Hummel at Winterthur just as he was beginning his second retirement. He led our class for one last Craftsmanship trip to Colonial Williamsburg then transitioned into the generous mentor he remained for so many communities. At Winterthur, he was a resource of reliable institutional memory and good sense for staff, students, donors, collectors and trustees. Charlie always made time for conversations during lunch or lectures while keeping up with changes. Ever on guard for the cultural heritage profession, he offered a bi-annual lecture, “White Collar Crime in Museums” to rapt graduate students and staff. Since 1981, it was updated and firmly anchored in museum legal and ethical guidelines so Charlie could help prepare each Winterthur grad to serve with responsibility and accountability. It remains the most chilling professional cautionary tale I’ve heard.

Charlie could look quite stern and air his thoughtful opinions with energetic confidence, yet he was unfailingly funny, collegial and kind. His “office” in the library was heavily visited and became the tiny locus for significant retirement scholarship. This was also where he befriended Margaret Powell while she cataloged our historic tools collection. It meant the world to me to see Charlie and Marlene Hummel at Margaret’s memorial service and later to hear of his enthusiasm for the Ann Lowe exhibition research she’d initiated. Charlie’s generosity of self, scholarship and shared life wisdom are a legacy and a bedrock for the cultural heritage community. I wish I could have given him one more hug of appreciation.

Ann Wagner
Curator of Decorative Arts, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

Charlie Hummel’s contributions are legendary. He was associated with Winterthur for 69 years, rising from a student in the Winterthur Program to deputy director of the museum and library, and in retirement continuing to serve the institution as an outstanding teacher, lecturer and author. No one will ever match that level of service or accomplishment.

Many remember Charlie for his groundbreaking study of the Dominy family of woodworkers and clockmakers in East Hampton, N.Y. Their tools, equipment and workbenches are displayed in faithfully recreated shops at Winterthur. For anyone interested in historic woodworking trades, a tour of the Dominy shops with Charlie was an absolute must. Such was the case in 2019, when Old Sturbridge Village committed to build a traditional cabinetmaking shop. As a member of the Old Sturbridge Village board and Winterthur colleague of Charlie, I enlisted his support. He jumped at the opportunity. His advice, supplemented by careful investigation of the Dominy shop layout, proved invaluable. I recall the joyful pleasure that he took in sharing his exceptional knowledge of both the craftsmen and the tools they used. It remains one of my most memorable moments at Winterthur. Thank you, Charlie.

Brock Jobe
Professor emeritus, Office of Academic Programs, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

Like so many students across the generations of the Winterthur Program, my most meaningful time spent with Charlie Hummel was when I took his legendary class Craftsmanship in America. The course grew out of Charlie’s primary scholarly legacy: the Dominy workshop, which Winterthur acquired in 1960. The class was far more than a class about how stuff was made. We also explored the economics of craft in early America, as well as the social and cultural lives of the craftspeople. It was Winterthur material culture at its very best.

A big part of that class was a trip to Colonial Williamsburg, where we spent quality time in many of the craft shops. We not only watched the artisans up close but we picked up the tools and tried the work ourselves. Ask anyone who took Charlie’s craftsmanship course, they will likely tell you that they still have the copper bowl (hammered at the silversmith’s anvil), the pewter spoon (that they cast) and the iron hook (that they forged). And, they probably also remember breakfast each morning at Mama Steve’s Pancake House, or seeking out whoopie pies… both were Charlie’s favorites.

In the more than 20 years since I graduated, I have returned to Winterthur often for conferences, the Delaware Show and various alumni programs. Whenever Charlie saw me, he sought me out and chatted. He asked after Hollie and the kids. He asked how life in the trade was (he was an old-school curator, but he still very much valued his colleagues in the trade).

Charlie epitomized Winterthur and the Winterthur Program. His passion for material culture was second only to his passion for his students. And he was just a kind human being.

Andrew Richmond
Class of 2003, Winterthur Program in Early American Culture Founder & auctioneer, Meander Auctions
Founder & appraiser, Wipiak Consulting & Appraisals

Winterthur Program in Early American Culture, The American Craftsman to 1790 class trip to Colonial Williamsburg, 1999. Front: Catharine Dann Roeber, Alexandra A. Kirtley; back: Charlie Hummel, Laurie LaBar, Melissa Naulin, Nonie Gadsden.

I met Charlie in the early 1990s as a student at Winterthur/UDel. He’d long been mentoring and teaching others at that point, formally or otherwise, and continued to do so throughout his career and “retirement.” Though our paths didn’t cross in the classroom, I was fortunate to have known Charlie during graduate school and thereafter.

There are so many ways to describe Charlie — curious, generous, devoted, knowledgeable, wise, patient, kind. He always had time for someone interested in learning. He loved to teach and share his enthusiasm and brought history and the past alive. Charlie had a keen interest in truly understanding an object, from the craftsmanship through to its use and the people involved in all of its phases.

Charlie guided, influenced and inspired so many people through the decades with his wisdom and his legacy of publications and lectures. Perhaps most importantly, with his humility and character, Charlie was a role model for how people should be — in the field and in life.

Johanna McBrien
Class of 1992, Winterthur Program in American Material Culture Director, Dedham Museum & Archive

I first read With Hammer in Hand and saw the Dominy shops at Winterthur in 1975 while taking a course in college. I knew then I had to meet Charles F. Hummel someday. I got up the courage four years later and wrote Mr Hummel asking him for direction in my quest to combine history, furniture restoration (I hadn’t heard of conservation then) and museums into my career. What Charlie did next changed my life. Even though I was completely unknown to him at that time, he took my letter seriously and directed that I receive an invite to Winterthur to meet with the conservation staff, which happened and I accepted. That September, I had a job offer from Winterthur. Had Charlie put my letter aside to attend to other important business of the day, my Winterthur experience would never have happened. But Charlie honored a letter from a “nobody” and acted on it, which made all the difference. I had an opportunity to tell him this story recently and thank him. He knew how deeply appreciative I was and will remain my life through.

Charlie (being many years his junior, it took me a while to call him “Charlie,” as he kindly requested) had a passion for American material culture that was part of his being in a way that I have seen in very few others. His passion was so contagious that it now lives on in every aspect of Winterthur that he touched, from the study of “Chippendale” furniture to the Dominy shops to the Winterthur – University of Delaware graduate programs. His legacy is the Winterthur we hold so dear today.

Charlie was accessible in his days as a deputy director at Winterthur and in his retired years as well. The door was open or the chair next to him in the lunchroom empty as if just for you. He was ready to listen, advise and tell his stories no matter if you were just starting your time at Winterthur or were a career long companion of his. Charlie was there ready to talk Winterthur, the state of the museum world, Dominy discoveries or just life. Charlie was there for us, all of us.

Gregory J. Landrey
Senior furniture conservator emeritus, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

I join the many other scholars, teachers and students to honor Charlie’s passion and kindness. I knew him first in my role as neophyte professor in 1992 in the Winterthur Program. I was rushing to learn about furniture making; Charlie was my gracious guide. Later, when I was Chipstone professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, he was on the advisory board of the Chipstone Foundation. My visits to board meetings were sometimes intimidating. Charlie was always funny and charming as we laughed about the assembled furniture scholars and the foibles of the connoisseurship world.

But, my favorite memory of time spent with Charlie was when I was on fellowship at Winterthur in 2015 and we sat down with the Dominy tools on a late afternoon in the museum. His hands moved as he gestured the act of shaving and carving, of moving material and shaping surfaces, and his eyes sought mine to assure my understanding. For 25 years, I had known words about tools and cabinetmaking but Charlie’s passion for teaching and his love of the Dominy project made it all finally come alive.

Ann Smart Martin
Stanley and Polly Stone (Chipstone) professor emerita Founding director, Material Culture Program, Art History Department, University of Wisconsin, Madison

I first encountered Charlie Hummel during my apprenticeship with Colonial Williamsburg’s blacksmith shop in the early 1980’s. Charlie taught classes with the University of Delaware, including a class focused on American Craftsmen before 1800. Each spring he brought a group of students to Colonial Williamsburg for an immersive experience in a select group of Historic Trades shops to promote the idea that understanding materials and the methods of manipulating them made for a more informed curatorial eye. We participated in that program for 40 years.

Through these presentations, I got to know Charlie as a friend and resource for understanding historical context. He opened my eyes to a world beyond forging historic reproductions of iron and steel and into deriving meaning from the objects and the technological and historical environment in which they were made. Additionally, through his work With Hammer and Hand, he showed me that the study and analysis of surviving business records could be as enlightening as the study of social, political and stylistic movements, offering insight into technological and economic motivations that drove decision making within early workshops. The experience altered my career trajectory.

Over the years, I met Charlie here in Williamsburg, and occasionally on trips to Winterthur where he took great interest in my work and encouraged me to think critically about the information that I was discovering and to actively pursue the topic of James Anderson and his Williamsburg Revolutionary War workshop. With his guidance and mentorship, I was able to uncover a greater American story for our shop’s public programming, a story of transformation from provincial manufacture into industrial production made possible by the enormous capital infusion of a government at war. Early in my career, I could never have foreseen this turn of events combining a passion for forging iron and an academic study of business accounts and correspondence exposing an American story of creativity, hard work and transformation of manufacture necessary to found a new nation.

I attribute my curiosity and passion for pursuit of knowledge and career success to the inspiration and encouragement provided by Charlie Hummel. The world of historic preservation and research has lost a giant in the field, but among his legacies will be generations of historians, curators and trades practitioners who have benefitted from his mentoring and inspiration.

I am grateful for Charlie’s insights, mentorship and his example, but more than anything else, I am grateful for his friendship.

Kenneth Schwarz
Blacksmith, master of the shop, Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, Williamsburg, Va.

Charles, right, with John Sweeney, circa 1990. Photo courtesy Winterthur.

I was a student at Winterthur from 2014-16 and, in 2015, we were in the early days of a student blog called “Material Matters,” which I helped administer. As part of that, for a planned series of alumni features, I interviewed Charlie because he was from the second graduating class of Winterthur’s Material Culture program. His longevity at Winterthur, and connection to the program itself, were things I wanted to hear more about, to add to our conversations we would frequently have when I was in the library or staff lounge when he was always willing to talk and share his experiences. He agreed to be recorded for an interview — I still have the interview recorded on my phone and listen to it every now and then — and posted it to the blog in segments, interspersing it with photos of people he mentioned, the professors and historians he worked with. It’s still on the student blog.

In his interview, he shared stories about his experience, calling it “serendipity” that he ended up at Winterthur. His career was full of amazing experiences, meeting historians and scholars, working with Jacqueline Kennedy and H.F. duPont and talking about when Mrs Kennedy visited Winterthur.

I asked him about the future of material culture and of the program. What he told me, as a 23-year-old, was that 10 years from then (meaning now in 2025), the decision makers would be very different than who they were then. Decisions will be made about the arts, culture and funding. He was honestly very nervous about that. The sentiment he shared with me — speaking as someone who had a long career in the arts and culture field — was a charge or call to be mindful about the impact of your decisions if you’re a decision maker, to have the field grow, to create opportunities for upcoming scholars, to create opportunities for creative and public engagement. We need to make sure that early American history and material culture is seen as relevant and to make sure it’s known more widely; that historical and material culture scholarship is all about creating a better future. He conveyed that to many people, including me.

I am honored to call Charlie a friend and to have had the opportunity to speak with him and learn from him.

Matthew Skic
Director of Collections & Exhibitions, Museum of the American Revolution

Charlie Hummel was one truly remarkable person. From a humble upbringing in Brooklyn, N.Y., to becoming one of greatest champions of American decorative arts, yet he was a quiet champion.

Most of us never actually realized how many endeavors he was involved in, from teaching and advising students, to guiding the renowned Winterthur Museum, to lecturing all over the US and even in Europe. It is hard to imagine how he had the time to be involved with all that he undertook. In addition, what most people were never aware of is that he was devoted to his talented wife Marlene, and together they raised four fine children who are just a dedicated to their professions and families as he was to them.

Charlie’s work ethic was so amazing, right down to after his retirement when he came to Winterthur every day (briefcase in hand) to his small office in the library. Constantly working on various projects. Yet, Charlie was always willing — and that may be a word that best describes him. He never said no when someone needed help, whether with research, critiquing an article, examining an object or even personal consoling. The numerous times I engaged with Charlie when I returned to Winterthur in 1995, he was always there with an ear to listen. Personally, I think that perhaps the highest praise that can be given anyone — especially Charlie — is that they were fine person and always willing!

Wendy Cooper
Curator emerita of Furniture, Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library

It is hard to imagine Charlie Hummel without Winterthur or Winterthur without Charlie Hummel. He was a steady presence for me from the time I began as a student in the Winterthur Program in American Material Culture in 1998 through his last day as a volunteer for the library just a few years ago. Although he retired in earnest from his volunteer role in 2022, Charlie’s legacy infuses the daily activities and the fabric of Winterthur, where I had the privilege of working with “retired” Charlie for years. His deep influence on how we study craft, what we know about early American makers and decorative arts, how we teach conservation and how we ask thoughtful and smart questions of historical sources is felt throughout communities of collectors, craftspeople, conservators and cultural heritage professionals.

I was honored to speak alongside colleagues and Charlie’s family members at the October 4 Celebration of Life held in his honor. As I sat down to prepare my notes for the event and read over the tributes that poured in about Charlie from friends and former students and colleagues, I shaped my thoughts and words around evocative objects that, to me, represented aspects of Charlie and his important role in my life and, as the comments delivered by family and longtime colleagues and friends attested, for so many others. Coming from a place like Winterthur, that tells stories of people through objects, I thought a sort-of “exhibit of Charlie” in three objects would be fun.

Pewter spoon: For many years, Charlie taught a class in the history of American Craftsmanship. It was later taught by Ritchie Garrison, and now by me in my role in the Academic Affairs Division and, upon occasion, others like Dr Arwen Mohun from the University of Delaware. In this class, Charlie gave us extensive reading lists on topics including the structure of apprenticeships, to the economics of running a craft shop, to the history of design processes. To complement and better understand the readings, the class featured a trip to Colonial Williamsburg, where we spent a few days learning from the skilled experts in Historic Trades at Colonial Williamsburg. Often, the trip visited the Getty Foundry, where we poured a pewter spoon. I still have my spoon and, as the many comments from fellow alums attest, numerous others also keep and cherish their spoons from this trip. They sit on our desks and bookshelves or are lovingly stored in memento boxes.

The spoon seems a fitting object tribute to Charlie…these everyday tools can stir the pot in multiple ways. While Charlie studied subjects that could be viewed as “traditional,” he challenged students and himself to study history and craft in critical and forward-thinking ways. He took an inclusive approach to the subjects he studied, and I am so thankful that he introduced our class to literature on Black makers, women and craft, labor history and so much more at a time this was not the standard fare. Charlie relished pushing boundaries of thinking and using new tools and methods. He was particularly proud of his collaborations with Chipstone and the University of Wisconsin to create the digital version of Hammer in Hand: The Dominy Craftsmen of East Hampton, New York. Stirring a pot can also indicate bringing together…and this is something Charlie did well…connecting students and makers and colleagues to historical figures in relevant ways and bringing together generations of craft scholars and museum professionals. He was a trusted source for institutional and field-wide memory, and he was so generous in answering scores of emails and phone calls, always eager to ensure newcomers and longtime lovers of decorative arts and craft felt welcome and encouraged.

Briefcase: Nearly every person who spoke at Charlie’s celebration of life mentioned the second item on my list, his briefcase. The image of Charlie coming to work in his raincoat and carrying his briefcase is imprinted on so many of our minds. The briefcase to me was not just a sensible accessory, but a signal of his work ethic and the high standards he expected and fostered. Charlie showed up prepared and ready to work and he instilled this dedication to professionalism in others. His approach to leading and teaching was not draconian. Instead, he epitomized a balance of high expectations and care. He wanted his students and peers to succeed in their academic and professional careers, and he went out of his way to create a path for the young, the unexperienced and the uninitiated as long as they brought drive and dedication to their endeavors. Charlie’s generosity was something I so appreciated…stops by my office to chat and cheer me on, a gift of an interesting book or article, encouragement to think outside the box…the list goes on. And this spirit of generosity was something noted repeatedly as people who knew Charlie as a neighbor, friend, father, teacher and colleague shared their stories and memories since he passed away in September.

Template: The last item I imagined in association with Charlie is a template. A furniture template or pattern was a key to his own discoveries when studying and identifying the work of the Dominy family, helping him find extant objects that matched the profiles of templates found in the Dominy shop. Templates add structure and create commonality between objects made using them as a guide. Structure and building commonality between people was something Charlie appreciated. He believed in decorative arts, conservation and craft scholars understanding common knowledge and adhering to ethical principles in our work. While templates can help create similarity, they do not create uniformity. Each object created following a template, especially in a preindustrial setting, is unique with slight variations in size and small flaws. Charlie, who always connected the people behind the objects, understood that while he had high standards and some goals for common understanding, understood and appreciated individual characteristics and creativity that every person brings to their work and life. His was a deeply humanistic approach that allowed for me and so many others to feel appreciated and supported as we carved our own paths as cultural heritage professionals, collectors, students and everyday visitors to historic sites.

A spoon and briefcase and template cannot stand in for the full life Charlie led. The stories shared by his children and family and other remembrances underscored a rich life well led. But, every time I see my spoon or see the templates hanging on the gallery wall in the recently refreshed Hammer in Hand Dominy gallery, I will think of Charlie and how much he influenced my career and my aspiration to live up to his model of leadership.

Catharine Dann Roeber, PhD
Director of Academic Affairs, Brock W. Jobe associate professor of Decorative Arts and Material Culture, Director, Research Fellowship Program, Executive editor, Winterthur Portfolio