By Gertrude Breithaupt Jupp, M-D '18
Post-Crescent 1968
Saraswate, the Hindu goddess of learning, gazes from her teakwood frame with a quizzical smile in the Jason Downer Commons on the Lawrence University campus. But the famous Teakwood Room was not built around this golden goddess. She came later, long after Timothy Appleton Chapman and his daughter, Alice, had been caught up in the spell of an Oriental display at the Chicago's World Fair of 1892.
It was not a big exhibition by present standards, but its effects were far-reaching. From his workshop in Ahmadabad, designer Lockwood de Forest was showing hand-carved teakwood from East India. Unlike the usual highly polished black teakwood, these pieces were their natural color, a warm cinnamon brown. So completely enchanted were Miss Chapman and her father by the lace-like carving and delicate aroma of the wood that they commissioned de Forest to design an entire room for their Milwaukee home. It was to include wall paneling, arches, pillars, even carved cabinets, chairs, and tables.
The order was complicated and unique; from the start it seemed doomed to delay. The very size and number of the items, the intricacy of the patterns to be carved, and the circuitous route of delivery -- by elephant, oxcart, ship, and rail -- forecast trouble.
Most serious was the black plague that broke out among the native Indians. Just when the Chapmans had almost given up their dream of a teakwood room, word came that their shipment had gone to London, along with one for Windsor Castle. From London, it would be shipped to New York, and at last by train to its final destination.
Meanwhile in the Chapman home, the frame of the room was ready and waiting. The coved ceiling had been covered with metal leaf made iridescent with a silvery wash; the huge chandeliers from Tiffany's had been hung; the Oriental carpets lay in rolls against the walls. The walls themselves were covered with hand-loomed gold stain to link together the brown warmth of the teakwood panels. When the big shipment arrived, everything fitted magically into place.
All through the years, Alice Chapman watched with deep pleasure the effect of the room on her guests. The garrulous ones quieted, the taciturn expanded, artists lost their shyness. She wanted to be sure that even after her death the room would continue to give and invite beauty. And so, in her will, she provided for a specially built wing within the Chapman Library, which she bequeathed to the college. This wing would house the complete Teakwood Room and its treasures.
In its new setting on Downer's campus, the Teakwood Room was the scene of poetry readings, chamber music, and formal receptions for the artists exhibiting in the gallery adjoining. Often, too, there were informal coffee hours, during which small groups gathered around a speaker, following up the talk with questions and answers.
One visitor, Kamala Numbkar, who was devoting her life to social welfare in India, stood for a long time in silence in the center of the room. Then she spoke of the fragrance of the teak, the captured beauty of India. But one thing was incongruous -- the Wisconsin landscape above the mantel. She asked and was promptly given permission to replace it. Drawing a hasty sketch of the fireplace, she recorded its dimensions, then outlined a picture above it. Back home she commissioned an outstanding Indian artist, Bendre of Bombay, to do a painting of Saraswate, the Hindu goddess of poetry, music, and wisdom. Within months, the gouache painting arrived and the inscrutable goddess took her place above the mantel, where she reigned for a quarter of a century.
Then in 1964 came the announcement that Milwaukee-Downer and Lawrence College were to merge into Lawrence University. Students were stunned. How could they leave Hawthornden? The hat hunt? The boat races on the Milwaukee River? But most of all, how could they leave their beloved Teakwood Room? They pleaded with the trustees to move it in its entirety. It had been done once before; it could be done again. Alumnae echoed the students' pleas. And to the joy of all, the trustees agreed. Piece by piece, with markings and measurements carefully recorded, the panels, pillars, and arches were taken down and stored until a new Downer building at Lawrence can house them. And so, for a second time, the Teakwood Room was lovingly preserved and moved into a new setting. Adding distinction to the Lawrence campus and hospitality to the entire university community, Jason Downer Commons holds particular meaning for alumnae of Milwaukee-Downer College. It not only perpetuates the name but houses the Teakwood Room, symbol of their heritage.