The Barn Lady
Furniture maker Carolyn Linton
By Keija Parssinen | Photos by Anastasia Pottinger
Carolyn Linton talks about wood with the same reverential tone that most people reserve for discussions of diamonds, gold or oil. In her mind, the antique wood with which she builds her heirloom pieces of furniture — broad, stately desks that invite inspiration; long, richly hued dining tables that seem predestined for fabulous dinner parties or meaningful family suppers — is a precious commodity, one that she harvests and uses for her art with evident care and respect.
Known locally as the “Barn Lady,” Linton repurposes the oak, pine and walnut timbers of crumbling barns and transforms the old wood into finely wrought benches, hutches, tables and desks, among other things.
Of the wood, she says: “The beauty is still there. I just give it a chance to glow again.”
Although Linton’s been a furniture maker for more than 40 years, her idea to use barn wood didn’t come to her until 1994. She began searching the area for a suitable barn to help make her vision a reality. Her criteria? The structure had to be more than 100 years old, but the wood had to have life left in it.
One evening outside of Moberly, she stopped at an Amish buggy to buy bread and started talking to the driver about her search. The man didn’t know of anything that would meet her needs, but, serendipitously, the customer standing next to her volunteered his barn. Linton took a small crew of Amish men to disassemble the structure and transport the wood back to her home, and the Green Meadow Barn Company got its start.
Linton operates the company from her farm just outside Columbia, where she has resurrected her childhood barn, transported piece by piece from Chillicothe, Mo., to house her workroom and showroom. Her father, the late Russell Potter, a mentor and teacher of whom Linton speaks lovingly, bequeathed the barn to her because he understood her deep connection to it and all that it represented.
“There’s beauty, strength and courage in old barns,” Linton says. “To make something from that, to let them live on and continue to be something, is important.”
Although largely self-taught, Linton credits her father with encouraging her to hone the skills that came so naturally to her. Now, fittingly, Linton pursues her passion under the sheltering beams of the barn that made such an impression on her as a child. Every day, she spends 10 to 12 hours in her workroom negotiating with the often ornery old wood.
“I talk to the wood, and we come to an understanding is what it boils down to,” she says. “All wood has its challenges. One hundred years ago, the farmers cut trees down and immediately built with that green, wet wood, so it’s warped. Oak has a mind of its own. Pine and walnut are more agreeable. They’re willing to cooperate.”
In the showroom, sunlight pours in through a wide window, and Linton’s carefully arranged pieces seem to glow; the quiet of the surrounding countryside combined with the warmth of the storied wood lend the place a church-like feel. Some pieces are russet-colored thanks to the original paint, which Linton incorporates into the design.
“That way, the colors of the countryside can be enjoyed again,” she says.
She buffs the wood with Mylands wax, an all-natural wax used on the Queen of England’s priceless antiques.
The showroom is at once an art gallery and something more practical — a furniture store where customers may come and select pieces or commission works for their homes.
For loyal customer Kit Salter, who, along with his wife, Cathy, has collected 11 pieces of “Lintonia,” as he dubs her work, the joy and warmth emanating from each piece of furniture is palpable.
“When I first encountered one of her barn wood tables,” Salter says, “I was in the market for a desk, and I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be marvelous to write on an orb of barn wood?’ The simple, aesthetic beauty of the wood is wonderful.”
Salter, a former chairperson of the University of Missouri geography department, loved the way Linton’s work was rooted in place. “Barns just radiate place, don’t they? Or, continuity of place.”
In addition to the practical and connective nature of furniture making, Linton also values the story behind each piece. She ensures that the wood’s narrative continues by tagging the underside of each item in an artful cursive, which details in a few sentences the history attached to the furniture.
Another Linton signature is the pewter medallion that she includes with each piece. On it, the pewter smith engraves an artistic rendering of the particular barn from which the wood came. Linton’s cousin, Branson-based artist Louise Bremer, creates the sketches that the smiths use. Bremer also paints the exteriors of the novelty boxes that Linton makes, such as the one given by the Greater Missouri Leadership of Women to the Woman of the Year, Sen. Claire McCaskill.
The obvious artistry behind the pieces on display in Linton’s showroom belies the heavy labor that goes into each creation. Thanks to the power of word-of-mouth, she no longer needs to scour the region for her barns — now people call her and offer up their dilapidated property. Once the call comes in, and after she’s determined the quality of the offered wood, she assembles her crew of two to three Amish workers and goes to the sight, where she pulls nails and hauls timber alongside the others. She enjoys working with the Amish because they are familiar with the old style of construction and have an admirable work ethic. A petite blond, Linton at first seems an unlikely laborer, but her toughness, diligence and the clear joy she takes from working with her hands combine to make her a powerhouse.
“The kind of work Carolyn does is heavy work,” says Nina Furstenau, co-owner of à la Campagne, a Columbia home goods store that has carried Linton’s work for a decade. “It requires strength. It’s neat to see a female doing it so well.”
Although aware of the fact that, as a woman, she’s a minority in the industry, Linton says she doesn’t give it much thought. “I just do what’s natural to me. I don’t let it stop me.” However, she takes pleasure from the conversations she’s had with other women about her profession.
“When I describe what I do to ladies of all ages, I find that many sweet little ladies who are 80 years old tell me how much they wish they could do what I do,” she says. “It tickles me. I think women have a natural instinct to build things but don’t always have the opportunity to do it. In the country, it’s different. For instance, when I took one of my Amish workers home, the mother was sawing away while the father held the board. It’s just a part of the life.”
Carolyn Linton is a member of “Best of Missouri Hands,” an organization of Missouri craftspeople, artists and artisans. She highly recommends it to professionals who are just starting out, as it provides a powerful support and marketing network.
Where to find Carolyn’s work: Carolyn’s showroom: 1626 Quail Run, Fulton (please call for an appointment); à la Campagne: 918 East Broadway, Columbia; May 21 – 23 at the Missouri Life Festival in Boonville; June 5 – 6 at the Taste of the Arts Festival in Hermann, Oct. 2 – 3 at the Best of Missouri Market in St. Louis (Missouri Botanical Gardens)
