Collection: Self Portraits

Self Portraits

I have been getting frustrated with my own perfectionism and the way I have been working.

This year I have moved into a new studio, so during the final three weeks at The Warren (my workshop space), I gave myself the opportunity to see what would happen if I tried to let go. I made work without a plan, something I never do.

I decided to use pieces of wood I have been collecting for years and explore making a collection, these are pieces of wood I would usually classify as seconds. The first piece i picked up had a large knot and crack, that could only be fixed by an insert, an insert is where you fill a hole with another piece of wood in the shape of that hole, much like a patch in a piece of clothing. I started carving, and cutting making shapes: this was only a test to explore a shape—the crack didn’t matter, I enjoyed how i was resolving it. I had fun making this first piece, so I made another and another, and kept loosened up trying to see how far this goes.

For finishing what I wanted, and what I have been interested in, is the markings that chainsaws make, a raw texture that can be finely finished. I had a tool that created a texture that felt similar. I tested out a few textures first. Work 8, the long Kauri piece with Walnut inserts around the edge, has been worked, finished, and oiled three times. The first attempt I carved into the sides with chisels, thinking this would be it. I gave myself an opportunity here to try out the textures I had been thinking about, and that’s what I did in the first five or six pieces. I tried out these ideas—these engravings, these facets, these machine marks. I kept on returning to inserts and something blocky. I like how the inserts mirror the blockiness I created on the outside of some pieces, as well as the drop down to the base, which appears in every piece. The facets don’t always meet—another interpretation of the same idea.

I had a bit of a tug-of-war with my ideas. The techniques I thought I was drawn to weren’t working; they weren’t satisfying. I thought I should continue until they were. What I really wanted to do was focus on the inserts and blocks. 

I have been fascinated with learning about antiques recently. What I’ve found has been really influential, especially the Aesthetic and Arts and Crafts movement. I have been thinking a lot about the sentiment of the Aesthetic Movement: ‘arts for art’s sake.’ I wanted to have fun with these inserts, making them colourful, spontaneous, and bright. Decoration for the sake of decoration on some of the pieces, not just to fix a hole or a crack like most of them do—why not decorate the base of a plate? I was also interested in the Art Nouveau French designer Maurice Marinot, and how I understood his expressions. There is something in that ‘Mend and Make Do’ attitude that I felt when I was making—its rawness. I live in the woods. I need a bowl, so I’m just going to make myself one. There’s a crack in it, so I’ll fix it. It’s thick, useful, resilient. It can fall off the table, sit in water—it’s durable and sturdy. It was an off-cut of something else. I can’t quite figure out what it is about this that draws me in. I initially thought all I really wanted was to make some really nice chip bowls—some eccentric chip bowls. I’m drawn to works that have a certain naivety to them, something I wanted to achieve for myself but wasn’t sure how.

As I went on, I was able to push my confidence a little further each time. It is subtle, you know, I wish I had another three weeks, a month, or whatever, to really get into a rhythm and flow with it—to trust myself and the marks I make.

This was a trust exercise.