People often ask why I chose the name Studio Henbane.
It's an understandable question.
Henbane is hardly a household name. It isn't a common garden flower, and many people have never heard of it. Yet for thousands of years this unassuming plant occupied a remarkable place in European history, folklore, and medicine, becoming one of the most infamous members of the nightshade family.
History of Henbane
Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger) belongs to the nightshade family (Solanaceae), alongside belladonna, mandrake, and datura. For centuries it was cultivated as a medicinal herb, valued for its sedative, antispasmodic, and pain-relieving properties. At the same time, its toxic and psychoactive effects inspired stories that blurred the line between medicine, superstition, and fear.
The plant appears in medieval herbals, archaeological excavations, and historical accounts spanning the classical world, Viking Age Scandinavia, and late medieval Europe. It was used by physicians, herbalists, and cunning folk in preparations intended to relieve pain, calm spasms, and induce sleep. Henbane seeds have been recovered from Viking burials, and remarkably, they are the only non-food plant seeds recovered from the wreck of the Danish royal flagship Gribshunden, which sank in 1495. Their presence suggests the plant may have been carried aboard for medicinal purposes or perhaps as a valued botanical curiosity.
Like many powerful medicinal plants, henbane accumulated both earned and imagined reputations over the centuries. Reports of vivid hallucinations, confusion, sensations of flight, and profound sedation eventually became intertwined with European beliefs about witchcraft. Medieval and early modern folklore frequently described henbane as an ingredient in magical potions, poisons, and the infamous "flying ointments" said to allow witches to attend nocturnal gatherings. While many of these stories belong more to folklore than documented practice, they shaped the plant's reputation for centuries.
Toxicologists often repeat the phrase, "The dose makes the poison," a principle first articulated by the Renaissance physician Paracelsus. Few plants illustrate that idea better than henbane. In carefully prepared doses it was used medicinally. In larger amounts it could produce delirium, hallucinations, respiratory depression, or death. Historical sources describe its use in wines, beers, medicinal tinctures, and aromatic incense, yet they also reveal a healthy respect for the dangers of excessive use.
Why Henbane?
For me, henbane represents something much larger than a single medicinal plant.
It represents the complicated history of people who lived at the edges of accepted society: herbalists, healers, midwives, cunning folk, and others whose knowledge of the natural world inspired both respect and suspicion.
Despite cunning folk, midwives, and service magicians being common and even integral members of their community, patronized by people from all levels of society, they were targeted and prosecuted by the thousands when moral panics spread.
Before the development of modern medicine, people sought healing from many different sources. University-trained physicians served the wealthy, monasteries provided care for the poor, barber-surgeons performed practical procedures, and local healers, midwives, herbalists, and cunning folk treated everyday illnesses within their communities. These traditions often existed alongside one another rather than in opposition.
During the great European witch trials of the fifteenth through seventeenth centuries, however, religious upheaval, political instability, local disputes, and fear combined to create devastating moral panics. Tens of thousands of people were executed for witchcraft, the majority of them women. While knowledge of medicinal plants was not itself proof of witchcraft, those who occupied marginal social roles could become especially vulnerable when accusations spread.
My interest in witchcraft has never been rooted in belief or modern spiritual practice. Rather, it comes from a respect for history, folklore, and the recurring pattern of moral panics that have shaped societies across centuries.
It's also personal.
Among my ancestors are John Alden Jr., who was accused of witchcraft during the 1692 Salem Witch Trials and escaped imprisonment before the executions reached their height, and Barbara Napier, who was tried during the Scottish witch trials under King James VI, author of the 1597 witch hunting guide Daemonologie. Their stories are reminders that fear, rumor, and fanatical ideology have real human consequences.
History, however, is not something confined to distant centuries.
As a teenage punk/metalhead during the Satanic Panic of the 1980s and 1990s, and later witnessing conspiracy-driven moral panics emerge again in recent years, I have seen how quickly suspicion can once again turn neighbors into enemies. The names and circumstances change, but the patterns remain remarkably familiar. Looking, acting, or thinking differently becomes an excuse for your neighbors to turn into accusers. No amount of contrary evidence or rational arguments can counter an angry mob.
Studio Henbane isn't about celebrating witchcraft or promoting alternative medicine.
It is about documenting and sharing the forgotten stories, fading traditions, and returning the voice to marginalized individuals and communities.
Copper, bronze, silver and gold hammered into ornaments thousands of years ago. Bone and shell carved into beads. Stone shaped into pendants. Plants gathered for medicine, dye, fragrance, or ritual. Handmade objects that tell stories of centuries of artisans.
I chose the name Henbane to honor the plant’s centuries of connection to those who were targeted for living on the fringes. Plants are neither wholly good nor wholly evil. Neither are the people who used them. Somewhere between folklore and archaeology, between history and myth, are countless ordinary people whose creativity, knowledge, and traditions continue to inspire my own work.
Studio Henbane exists to explore those stories, one handcrafted piece at a time.
That curiosity extends beyond folklore into archaeology, traditional craft, material culture, and the remarkable ways people have transformed copper, stone, bone, fiber, wood, and plants into objects of beauty, identity, ceremony, and everyday life.
My work is also shaped by where I come from.
I was raised on off-grid homesteads in the Pacific Northwest and Alaska, where making, repairing, foraging, and working with natural materials were simply part of daily life. Later experiences living on the margins and decades within the punk community strengthened my appreciation for self-reliance, resourcefulness, and the value of creating with what is available rather than what is convenient.
Those experiences continue to influence how I approach my studio today.
Many of the materials I use, copper, natural stone, bone, leather, fiber, handmade paper, reclaimed materials, and botanical elements, are chosen not only for their beauty, but because they carry long histories of human use.
Studio Henbane is an ongoing exploration of those histories.
Through handcrafted adornments, mixed-media artwork, Studio Notes, and the Studio Journal, I hope to share not only finished objects, but also the stories of the materials, landscapes, traditions, and ordinary people that inspired them.
Resources
Larsson, Mikael & Brendan Foley. "The King's Spice Cabinet: Plant remains from Gribshunden, a 15th-century royal shipwreck in the Baltic Sea." PLOS ONE 18(1), 2023.
U.S. Forest Service. The Powerful Solanaceae: Henbane.
Royal Horticultural Society. Hyoscyamus niger (Henbane).
Ronald Hutton. The Witch: A History of Fear, from Ancient Times to the Present. Yale University Press, 2017.
Owen Davies. Cunning-Folk: Popular Magic in English History. Hambledon Continuum, 2003.
Wolfgang Behringer. Witches and Witch-Hunts: A Global History. Polity Press, 2004.
Lyndal Roper. Witch Craze: Terror and Fantasy in Baroque Germany. Yale University Press, 2004.
Venditozzi & Mitchell. How to Kill a Witch: The Patriarchy’s Guide to Silencine Women. Tantor Media, 2025
