Arts & Crafts / CraftsmanIntro
The Craftsman Home 1902–1930
The word “Craftsman” has long been used to mean a style—somewhat synonymous with “American Arts and Crafts.” A more accurate definition, though, is that a Craftsman Home is one built according to plans published by Gustav Stickley.

It’s
almost general knowledge these days that Gustav Stickley’s Craftsman
Workshops made Mission Oak furniture (a.k.a. American Arts and Crafts
furniture). Not as well known is that, beginning in 1904, Stickley (and
hired pens) designed houses and offered blueprints that readers could
order.
In his magazine The Craftsman and in book-size
compilations, Stickley showed plans and renderings with advice on
appropriate colors, textiles, and furniture (from his workshops, of
course). The houses were embraced by the top of the planbook market;
their cost to build was above average and customizing was prevalent.
Some lovingly rendered motifs—hand-wrought copper hoods and extensive
built-ins, for example—never made it into construction, for reasons of
taste or budget.
As early as 1902, Stickley had advocated good
home design that integrated Craftsman furniture. In 1904, he began to
offer plans to subscribers, maintaining a design service to comply with
requests for modifications and custom homes. Stickley, self-taught as
an architect, signed the plans and probably did create some of them. He
employed the talented Harvey Ellis, whose work was influenced by
English architects Baillie Scott and Voysey. After Ellis’s tragic early
death, Stickley relied on unnamed in-house designers; he also
contracted with various architects and draughtsmen, including the New
York City-based architect George R. Nichols.
The plan service
was reinvigorated in 1909, when house designs began to feature products
sold by Stickley’s advertisers. Most are still household names:
Ludowici-Celadon Tile, Tapestry Brick, Grueby Tiles, Sanitas
Wallcoverings, Dutch Boy Paints. • In June of 1915, with Stickley and
his Craftsman empire in debt and facing bankruptcy, the publication of
house plans ceased, temporarily reappearing a year later. The final
issue of The Craftsman, in December of 1916, had only one plan, for a
small bungalow.
No one has ventured a guess on how many Stickley
houses were built, but we do know they exist around the country, and
“from Alaska to Fiji.” In an ambitious and huge 2006 book, longtime
sleuth and Craftsman Home-owner Ray Stubblebine documented the
published plans and shares the houses he’s tracked down, in their
original or not-so-original states. (The book is listed below.) Ray
points out that the designs were not avant-garde but “democratic,”
meant for the middle class, whether they looked like pioneer cabins or
houses for suburban lots. A few are awkward, even ugly. Most, however,
are undeniably appealing.