Exploring Bristol with Hazen Audel: craftsman and presenter of 'Primal Survivor' on the National Geographic channel

Hazen Audel was in Bristol doing some work connected to the show that he presents, called 'Primal Survivor'.  As well as his television work, he is also a very keen craftsman, working particularly with metal and wood. 

A few weeks previously, I'd been running a woodcarving tutorial for Alex, who has worked with him on the series for Icon Films. He knew that Hazen would love finding out more about the handmade objects and historic buildings to be seen in the city and thought that it would be great if I could show him around.

I always enjoy meeting other makers, particularly those with an interest in woodworking, so was very happy to do it. In fact, the prospect of exploring the city that I know pretty well with someone who was seeing a lot of it for the first time (and who is also interested in making stuff) was really exciting!

First of all, we visited the Cathedral. The very first thing was an Anglo-Saxon sculpture that is around a thousand years old. We also got to see the misericords, including one which I believe shows one of the first turkeys ever brought back to Britain. Straightaway, Hazen noticed the beautiful, elaborate hand-forged iron gates and door hinges around the Cathedral; pointing out stunning constructions that I would almost certainly have just walked past if there on my own.

Next was a visit to the Central library to see the Grinling Gibbons overmantle. This had to be included on the itinerary. 

One of the librarians very kindly took time to show us the room in which the overmantle is kept and to point out some of the other treasures in there, such as this beautifully designed Arts and Crafts chair which neatly converts into steps to access high shelves.

Next, we walked over to St Mary Redcliffe church to see the stone carvings and a whale rib that is reputed to be one of the first things ever brought back from the New World to Europe on John Cabot's ship. A bone seems a curious object to have been chosen but in those days such an object must have been like bringing back a chest full of gold: 
"There are huge whales there and no one is hunting them!"

I also pointed out the roof bosses under the tower. One shows a very rare image of a green man-like dog or cow. Nearby is another carving showing a man defecating! Medieval Christian attitudes to religious buildings were certainly very different to modern ones - see if you can spot both of them in the picture below:

After a walk along King Street (which contains many 17th century buildings) and dropping in at Icon Film's offices, we stopped off at the Hatchet Inn for lunch.

The Hatchet is reputed to have first got a license to sell alcohol in 1606, making it the oldest pub in Bristol. Before that it was Frogmore farm and monastery. Legend has it that the pub door has a layer of human skin from an executed felon, hidden under layers of paint and tar. If you are wondering about ghosts; well, I've had strange experiences in there before - but that's another story!

After finishing lunch, we headed up to Bristol Design. This second-hand tool shop is a must-see for anyone who loves working with tools and Hazen had been there before, so we had a chat about them and then headed on, stopping occasionally to look more closely at things of interest on the way, such as the Cafe Wall illusion.

After walking down Jacobs Wells Road, we headed over to my studio at Bower Ashton. This route gave a chance to look at the Hotwells area of Bristol, the Harbour and to see the Suspension Bridge spanning the Avon Gorge. 

Several of the members of the Forest of Avon Products cooperative who have workshops at the Bower Ashton Woodyard were about and chatted to Hazen about the wide variety of projects that they were working on.

After visiting my own workshop, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and it had been a long day so he got a taxi back to where he was staying in town.

All in all, it had been a very enjoyable day. It was great to spend time with Hazen and it also made me realise how, even though we packed in a lot of things, there was still so much we hadn't had the chance to see in Bristol in one day. When given the opportunity to explore the place that you live with fresh eyes, it quickly becomes apparent how much is taken for granted or passed by in ignorance each day. 

Continuing the tradition: Putting my mark onto the handles of my woodcarving tools

'Tools have a particular appeal because, in a sense, they carry the history of all those who have used them... so you are, in a sense, carrying on a very personal line of dedicated craftsmanship.'

Antiques expert Paul Atterbury, talking to woodcarver Glyn Mould on BBC's 'Antiques Roadshow'

'There is a great sense of continuity, seeing tools passed through several hands and being aware of contact with a carver who may be long dead'

Chris Pye, woodcarver

'Some of these tools go back almost halfway to Gibbons' era (the late 17th and early 18th centuries) and some of the old carvers wrote their names, or stamped their names, on their chisel handles. (Looking at the handle that he is holding) A. Gordon; I wonder who he was? It's sort of like shaking hands with the old fellow whenever I use it. So there's a romance about these tools which affect me, even, after all these years.'

David Esterley, carver and authority on Grinling Gibbons, on BBC's 'Carved with Love: The Genius of British Woodwork' episode entitled 'The Glorious Grinling Gibbons'

'Used tools moralise'

Ian Hamilton Finlay, poet and gardener

*****

Today, I finally got round to doing something that I've been meaning to do for some time. Thanks to an unexpected break between jobs, my carver's mark was stamped onto the wooden handles of all of my carving gouges and chisels.

Many handles of woodcarving tools show the stamped or carved names of their previous owners. I suspect that many were so marked in busy workshops, to prevent prized and expensive tools being spirited away by other carvers working there. As Chris Pye says, the names give a sense of connection to those previous owners, as my own hands grip the handle of the same tool to put it back to work once more. 

What letters did W. Hawkins cut with that carver's chisel? Did A. Brown have a hand in creating a carved piece that I have admired in a church or grand house? Or were those carvings destined to travel on the prow of a ship or a fairground ride? Did E. Meadwell find that gouge particularly easy and enjoyable to use, as I now do?

I did ask at Bristol Design, a shop from which I have bought several tools, whether anything was known about the origins of their second-hand chisels and gouges. Charles the proprietor said that nothing was known for most of them, although he had acquired a sizeable number from the collection of a former producer of fairground carvings and also from a ship's figurehead carver. However, neither seems to have marked their names onto the handles. 

He also told me something interesting that he had heard. Years ago, woodcarvers couldn't get their tools insured by insurance companies, so would insure them through their trades union. One of the requirements for cover was that tools could be identified as belonging to a specific owner. This would also explain why some tools have names carefully stamped over others (I have a gouge with 'A. Sprague' carefully covering B. Fare's name). It would reduce the chances of any confusion in the event of claims from several people working in the same shop.

Most of the tools that bear these stamps are quite old. The ones that I can date (from the maker's marks stamped into the blades) were produced between 1890 and the outbreak of World War One. The names on the handles could have been applied at any time and the handles may be replacement ones, but the style of the lettering of many names is quite similar. Perhaps the bespoke stamps were produced by the same company and sold around commercial carver's workshops up and down the country?

I found a lot of difficulty in getting hold of a name stamp myself. In Chris Pye's book 'Woodcarving: Tools, Materials and Equipment', published a few years ago, he mentions that they can be bought from several suppliers and that adverts can be found in woodcarving magazines. After a long time of asking around carving supplies shops without success and reading magazines without such adverts in them, I decided to just make my own. 

Using printer's metal type was an initial idea but there was some concern that it could be too soft to take repeated knocks into wood. Instead, I used diamond burrs in a Dremel hand drill to carve the end of a steel rod with my carver's mark. 

Here's the initial design, made up from my initials and first scratched into my bedroom wall with a thumbnail when I was about nine years old. I chose it as it is easily carved in any size:

Here's how it looked when cut into the metal rod:

...and here is the mark left by the stamp:

Most of the tool handles took the mark quite well and cleanly, particularly those made of box (Buxus) wood. The only ones that were tricky were those that had been thickly varnished. The varnish tended to fracture a bit but it wasn't too bad. 

By the way, the cut line on the handle above is the only mark for which I know much about the person who made it. That cut was made when it was owned by Jo Seitfudem, who sold the gouge to me. 

The handles were held in a groove between two triangular-sectioned pieces of wood to stop them moving about whilst being marked, which you can see in the top two photos above.

Now my own carving tools have taken their place in this line of tradition. I wonder if a carver in the future, on seeing my stamp well-worn on the handle of an infrequently-used gouge, will wonder who that carver was and what they made during their lifetime? It inspires me to keep on trying to make work that the tool's former and future owners might also be proud of.

Spectacular carvings by Thomas Paty and John Michael Rysbrack in Redland Chapel, Bristol

Redland chapel is situated in a suburb of Bristol. It was opened in October 1743 and was commissioned by John Cossins as a private chapel for his family.

The chapel is very unusual as it is not dedicated to a particular saint, holy figure or the Christian Trinity. Some have speculated that this may have been largely because it was a private chapel but maybe also because Cossins was a freemason and symbols such as the eye of Osiris were apparently part of the original decoration. When built, it would have stood in a rural setting overlooking small villages, which are now suburbs of the city. These unusual carvings of young African faces look out over the view.

Why such unique subject matter? No one is sure, perhaps it was related to Bristol's unfortunate links to the slave trade, perhaps they were servants who have been immortalised watching over the family tomb below or perhaps it is simply that such portrayals were in vogue at the time.

Inside the chapel are the carvings that I had travelled here to see. Thomas Paty was an eighteenth century carver of stone and wood who was largely based in Bristol, where he worked with his sons John and William. Several local buildings contain sculpture by the Patys. Although the work looks similar to Grinling Gibbons' carving, Thomas Paty was born about eight years before Gibbons died so they were not working at the same time.

Image from:http://bristolgems.wordpress.com/2012/04/19/a-country-chapel-redland-parish-church/

Unfortunately, a large part of the carved work is obscured by an unfortunately-placed projection screen which is apparently prone to jamming when raised. It also covers a large oil painting of the Embalming of Christ by John Vanderbank. The painting is an eighteenth-century copy of an earlier one by Annibale Caracci, which hung in Houghton Hall in Norfolk before going into the collection of the Russian royal family, where it was destroyed in a fire. I only hope that the location of the projection screen can be changed or the jamming sorted out , as it seems like a terrible shame to hide such beautiful and important work behind this blank white obstruction, as you can see below...

The Baroque carvings are executed in limewood, contrasting beautifully against a dark oak background. They have recently been restored after years of woodworm damage as well as some vandalism during a break-in a few years ago. Much of the carving work in the restoration was done by Charles Oldham, who is based in nearby Frome.

It was certainly worth it, they are stunning. The restoration work has not filled in every worm hole, as you can see below, but particularly damaged parts were replaced and everything cleaned, apparently the cleaning material being saliva on cotton buds. I was told that saliva contains enzymes that make it more effective than water for the job.

The cover of the font below was stolen during the break-in and a replacement has been carved and gilded by Laurence Beckford

The 'Bristolgems' blog has some very interesting information about the chapel and about Paty himself.

Near the entrance are two marble busts carved by the noted carver John Michael Rysbrack, who was originally Flemish but based himself in London and was one of the pre-eminent portrait sculptors of the time. They depict John and William Innys, the brothers of John Cossins' wife Martha, in informal attire. Perhaps this was also the fashion during that period? 

The informality does seem a bit odd in a church, especially when the nearby busts of John and Martha Cossins (also by Rysbrack) are much more formal. 

The busts of the Cossins were made in 1734 and kept at their house until Martha's death in 1762. If the busts of her brothers were made at the same time and kept in the house, that could possibly explain their informality. Maybe Cossins and Martha preferred a more formal look?

Unfortunately, following the break-in the chapel now has to be locked outside of times of services. However, if you contact the chapel, they are happy to show people inside by appointment. Many thanks to Gill and Michael for taking time to show me around and chat about the beautiful work there.

Some closer shots of the Grinling Gibbons Overmantle in Bristol Library

I dropped into the library yesterday to do some more research on the figurehead for the 'Matthew' and took the opportunity to get a couple of photos of the Gibbons overmantle in the Bristol Room.

To see my previous post about this apparently little-known oak carving by probably the greatest woodcarver ever to work in Britain, click on this link: http://carvingswithstories.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/grinling-gibbons-in-bristol-hidden.html

It seems incredibly hard to find any recent images of the overmantle online, so here's some. They're a bit dark, as the room is shaded to stop light damage and I didn't want to use flash photography for the same reason. Even so, there's not that many other pictures of them about it seems, so I hope you like these ones!

Grinling Gibbons in Bristol - a hidden treasure and a woodcarving mystery

On a quiet afternoon, head into Bristol's Central Library on College Green and head upstairs to the Reference Library. If it isn't too busy and you ask nicely, one of the librarians at the desk will be happy to show you into the partially-visible room next door, which is called the 'Bristol Room'.

When you enter, it's like stepping back in time. When the new library was opened in 1906, books and shelving from the old library building on King St were brought here and put in this room. The original library (built 1738-1740) is still standing, it's Palladian grandeur now housing the Cathay Rendezvous chinese restaurant. These books are not the only treasures held in the Bristol Room though...

One of the more worn-looking chairs in the room was apparently the seat used in one of the 'Bloody Assizes' by Judge Jeffreys. The infamous 'hanging judge' is mainly remembered for his heartless and brutal sentencing of those involved in Monmouth's rebellion of 1685.

Judge Jeffreys
image from freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/

                             

Grinling Gibbons
Image from a portrait in the National Gallery via Wikimedia

Nearby is another historic wooden construction, the one that the title of this blog post refers to. Over the fireplace is a stunning, carved oak overmantle. The lifelike carvings of fruit, game birds etc. could only have come from the workshops of Grinling Gibbons, probably the greatest woodcarver who ever set up studio in Britain.

image copyright owner unknown

The overmantle was bought in 1721 (according to Pevsner) in a sale at Gibbons' studio. The buyer was Michael Becher, sheriff of Bristol in 1739 as well as being master of the Merchant Venturers. He donated it to the library when it existed in it's original home on King St.
The woodcarving around the fireplace itself is quite different in style and is thought to be from a different workshop to Gibbons.

So what's the mystery?

Well, Grinling Gibbons was renowned for working in lime (aka linden) wood (Tilia species). So renowned, in fact, that his name is pretty much associated with carving in lime wood. Lime is the timber of choice for many European carvers as it is readily obtainable, reasonably (but not too) hard and it doesn't have a strong grain. This means it is less likely to split in carving, can take fine detail and also shows that detail well, which strong grain patterning would tend to obscure. All very desirable when carving with the kind of detail that Gibbons' workshops specialised in.
Oak (Quercus species) is much more tricky to carve intricately. It's strong grain can easily split chunks off and the wood itself tends to be tougher. The strong grain pattern and figuring could also easily obscure very fine detail.

The mystery is... why is this carved overmantle in Bristol not better known? There is carved oak work by Gibbons' studios in St Paul's Cathedral in London, but generally it is not nearly as commonplace as his carved lime work. It is really surprising to me that images of the overmantle are currently so hard to find online and even David Esterly's excellent book on Gibbons, 'Grinling Gibbons and the Art of Carving', doesn't mention the overmantle at all.

You can see some more photos of the overmantle by clicking on the link to this, more recent, post:
http://carvingswithstories.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/some-closer-shots-of-grinling-gibbons.html

It is hard to see how carving of this quality could be from anyone but Gibbons' workshops and other carved wood work from around this time in Bristol just doesn't have the finesse or exuberance of the overmantle. Some examples of roughly contemporary carving work in Bristol are swags carved in Quebec Yellow Pine in the Royal Fort House, which is usually open on Bristol Open Doors weekends. These were created by carvers under the direction of Thomas Paty between 1758 and 1762 for Thomas Tyndall, a wealthy merchant, and Alicia his wife.

Carved ornament in the Royal Fort House by Thomas Paty's woodcarvers

So if you are around College Green in Bristol and want to see a real little-known masterpiece of woodcarving, go and ask to see the Bristol Room. But please, for the sake of the hardworking librarians there, don't all go at once!

Hyper realistic carving and realistic carving

I've just been looking at some hyper-realistic carvings (that mimic other objects) and thought I'd put some images on here. There is a long tradition of carving very realistic imitations of objects and in Western art these visual tricks are called Trompe l'oeil meaning 'deceive the eye'. However, it seems that most recent sculptors who produce a similar kind of work use casting and modelling techniques (e.g. Ron Mueck and Duane Hanson). Understandable, as reductive techniques like carving (where material is removed to get to the final form) can be pretty unforgiving of errors...

                     

These carvings are by Randall Rosenthal, an American carver. They are carved over a period of months from a single block of wood and then hand painted.

These baseball caps were carved from a block of basswood by Fraser Smith of Natchez, Mississippi:

He also carved this leather jacket, a detail of which is shown below:

The Icelandic carver Stefan Haukur Erlingsson also enjoys carving clothing studies:

Another carver whose realistic imitations of clothing have become well known is the Venetian Livio de Marchi. Sometimes, the carvings have practical functions, such as this chair with it's creator sat in it and the two chairs shown below it:

Some of de Marchi's projects are amazing in their ambition. He likes designing carved replicas of cars and then 'driving' them on Venice's waterways.

Another American woodworker, named Wendell Castle, made this piece in 1985. Entitled 'Ghost Clock', it is entirely made of carved Honduras mahogany, some of which has been carved and bleached to look like a tied cloth covering. Castle is more usually associated with functional furniture, but I think that the execution of the cloth covering is stunning. This piece is now kept in the Renwick collection of American crafts.

In the Meiji period in Japan, which lasted from 1868 to 1912, there was a fashion for carving very realistic-looking fruit in ivory. Many of the sculptures were produced for export to the West. Here's an example of one of these okimono sculptures:

(image copyright Kevin Page Oriental art)

Ricky Swallow is an Australian artist who is now based in Los Angeles. He carves realistic depictions of things such as backpacks or tyres in wood as part of his work. The piece below is called 'Sleeping range' and was carved in 2002.

I suppose these sculptures couldn't really be called 'hyper realistic', as they aren't coloured to look the same as the original items. Ricky Swallow's titles show that he also obviously intends more in his carved works than just reproductions of objects, although the same is perhaps true of all the carvers whose work is shown here.
Another sculptor who notably made very realistic-looking wooden carvings was, of course, Grinling Gibbons. Gibbons was born in Holland but worked in Britain. In about 1690, he carved this cravat from limewood. The influential politician and art collector Horace Walpole wore it and helped to revive interest in Gibbons' work and so help to make his name legendary.

Much as I love carvings like these and admire their technical virtuosity, I think that carving a very realistic portrayal of an object is not as inspiring to me at the moment as capturing a realistic likeness of emotion or movement in a human face. Many carvers seem to favour expressionless carvings of faces when their work features human figures and it is easy to understand why.

Inanimate objects used as models don't tend to move about much of course, so a likeness can be won by slow, careful observation. Maintaining the inspiration seems much trickier when carving emotions into materials such as wood, stone or ivory, which require relatively slow working processes over long periods of time. Emotions can pass by in a second. How difficult it must have been for carvers to produce expressive self-portraits before photography was invented!

Here is a self-portrait carved in alabaster in 1770 by Franz Xaver Messerschmidt, which is now part of the Austrian State gallery in Vienna. It is one of a series, which are well worth looking up if you don't already know them.

(image copyright Austrian state museum)

According to a diarist who visited him, Messerschmidt (who thought he was possessed but is now thought to have perhaps suffered from Crohn's disease) would pull at one of his own ribs, then contort his face and carve his likeness. When he completed this particular carving, which is now called the 'beaked' head, he was apparently afraid of it and hid it out of sight. To him, it represented a spirit which came to torment him.  How did he carve such a contorted self portrait, with it's features scrunched up so tightly?

I don't know who owns the copyright to some of the images used here, so apologise for any breach of it. Unless otherwise stated, please infer that copyright is held by the producer of the work shown.