Repairing damaged African sculptures, made from wood which has been made to look like ebony

Occasionally I'm asked to repair or restore a damaged sculpture. They have needed repair due to a range of reasons, ranging from wear-and-tear to having been knocked over by someone's mother-in-law!

These two racing male cheetahs, 90 cm (3 feet) long, were carved in Tanzania and had been damaged in transit to the UK. Although the wood looks superficially similar to ebony, it is actually another kind of timber (probably Ironwood [Olea capensis] or Bleedwood [Pterocarpus angolensis]) that has had a dark stain and then black shoe polish applied. This darkening really brings out the form of the sculpture, as it reduces the visual impact of the timber's grain. 

Since both of these are a fairly widespread and common trees in Tanzania, I must admit to being happy that a different wood has been used to make this sculpture instead of ebony. Genuine African ebony trees (Diospyros crassiflora) are not native to this area, as well as being much scarcer and threatened by over-exploitation, so it was good to see a Tanzanian sculptor using what I believe to be local timber.

The tail of one cheetah was almost completely broken off and there were a couple of other nasty breaks as well. 

I really enjoy studying the sculptures to be repaired to see how they have been made by the carver who created them, so that the repair can echo their work as closely as possible.  

Some might be surprised to find out that these cheetahs were constructed from at least ten different pieces of wood, carefully jointed and then held together by nails. This actually has more than one benefit. It means that the carver wastes less timber than if the whole sculpture was carved from a single piece of wood. It also means that the grain runs along each leg and tail, so making them stronger and less likely to break across the grain.

The joins between pieces of wood were also filled with some kind of pitch or resin, which has been modelled in places to follow the shape of the carving. It was interesting to see this, as I've found the technique used in other sculptures from East Africa too.

To repair the piece, I carefully fixed the broken pieces together, with an internal supporting rod if necessary, then filled the remaining gaps with a paste made from wood dust mixed into a resin compound. 

This was left overnight and then any remaining holes or gaps filled with the same mixture. When it was all filled and set, the repair was very carefully sanded smooth and then polished with black wax polish.

It's quite a time-consuming and fiddly job, as the resin must set fully between each application. After the work was finished though, it was great to finally see the sculpture restored back to its former glory. The sense of movement and energy is very well portrayed, which I think is one of the hardest things to get across when removing material to shape a carving.

You may also like to see this previous commission to repair a damaged sculpture by the renowned Zambian sculptor, Friday Tembo. The owners were personal friends of Mr. Tembo, who had since passed away, so this repair was even more important to them. When it arrived at my workshop, the piece looked like this:

It shows a shaman in the act of transforming between the form of a fish and that of a man. The repair took a while, but it was interesting to use this process to study in more depth how this unusual artwork had been made and the techniques that had been used.

Again there was a real sense of satisfaction in restoring the piece, which was heightened by knowing who the sculptor was and how important this sculpture was to its owners.

Talking to Edward Carefoot: some thoughts about travelling independently, as a journeyman craftsperson inspired by the German tradition, through modern Britain

Recently, I met up with Edward Carefoot, who is seeking to travel as a craftsman inspired by the traditional German journeymen, who are sometimes called zimmermen. 

After finishing an apprenticeship in antiques restoration in northern England, Edward wanted to follow a similar path. After some time in the Scilly Isles and in Herefordshire he was on the move again and phoned ahead of his visit to ask if it would be okay to meet up. He'd seen from my blog that I had spent a bit of time with craftsmen travelling in the tradition of the German guilds and wanted to discuss the plan and how it could work with carving. 

I wouldn't say that I'm any kind of authority on such things, never having actually travelled in the tradition myself. However, I'm also aware that I've spent more time in the company of journeymen (travelling in the German tradition) than many people in Britain and have been lucky enough to learn a little about their lives. 

It was very interesting to chat with Edward about his plans and the things that we spoke about seemed like they might interest others too (perhaps finishing an apprenticeship themselves), although I should say that the opinions expressed here are mine alone and may not be those of Edward or of my journeyman friends.

The tradition of the travelling journeyman has been largely lost in Britain. Probably thanks to events such as the Dissolution of the Monasteries by King Henry VIII or the rise to power of Cromwell and his Puritans later on, work for travelling craftspeople became harder to find in this country. Although British people do sometimes travel in the tradition of the German societies, it doesn't seem to be commonly done and also requires a good knowledge of the language that many British people sadly don't have.

Edward asked at one point if I considered the idea worth pursuing and the answer was a definite 'Yes!'

Meeting other craftspeople is one of the most fascinating things about this particular creative world and besides, without giving it a go he could never know if it was possible. He was ready to travel and hadn't had the opportunity to be introduced into the tradition by a travelling journeyman, so was going to give it a try independently.

I did think that it would be good to keep some flexibility though. French and German journeymen have many traditions and customs that mean important things but without an experienced person to explain, they could sometimes be easily misinterpreted. 

Image from http://www.ladepeche.fr/article/2014/10/02/1963247-des-compagnons-du-devoir-font-halte-a-la-mairie.html

All of the journeymen that I have met had travelled for a period of time, at first, in the company of a much more experienced companion who could explain the customs to them and also give guidance on how to navigate through the travelling life. I did say to Edward that I felt that someone outside of the tradition (and without a good knowledge of the language) identifying themselves very strongly with it could potentially lead to misunderstanding in certain situations. It could be better not to seek to emulate but to create your own path, inspired by and with respect for theirs. 

Journeymen in the German tradition don't carry phones. It seems a tough path for a British craftsperson, travelling alone initially, to take. Many people in this country aren't used to the ways of the German travelling tradition and turning up unannounced with nowhere to stay might not always be a good idea in more remote places, although it does open the door to receiving kindness from others. It also means that it is more important to be punctual and keep your word; useful skills for a craftsperson. However, other journeymen have told me that travelling in more out-of-the-way areas is often easier. With so many disused barns about and people more open to hitchhikers, it is not as difficult to travel and to find places to sleep.

We also discussed having a website. It can be like a very useful portfolio and business card which can be updated. I haven't met any journeymen who have one but some sort of personal online gallery does seem like it could be a convenient alternative, for an independent travelling craftsperson, to travelling with a bundle of photos and papers that can easily be lost or damaged.

German journeymen don't travel using their own transport but there could be reasons why this might not be so suitable for a lone British craftsperson. For one thing, a good antique restorer needs quite a few different tools. Finding work on the road might be a lot trickier without having all the proper kit already with you but that could be a sizeable amount of stuff: expensive to replace and not so easy to to carry without transport. Having a mobile workshop isn't the way of the journeyman travelling in the German tradition but it could make sense for some other travelling craftspeople.

I did notice that the journeymen that I met were fairly flexible about taking on manual work outside of their particular training if it was on offer. A blacksmith would work on a timber framing project alongside more experienced colleagues. Their codes of practise make them good workers to have around and so they were welcome in other kinds of work too.

 A visit to my workshop did give Edward a useful chance to sharpen his own chisels and gouges ready for the road.

It's a great project and I wish Edward every success on his travels. I'd certainly recommend him to anyone who is wondering what his work is like. 

I hope that you have also enjoyed these, my own thoughts on what the German travelling tradition could mean for an independent travelling craftsperson from Britain. Hopefully you can also see my respect for that tradition and I'd be interested to hear what others think. 

And if any other wood carvers are passing through Bristol, do feel free to get in touch! It's always great to have a chat.