Writing a blog about woodcarving and wondering: what keeps bloggers going?

Sometimes it is hard to find the time to keep writing blog posts. Recently, it has certainly felt that way.

It isn't due to a single reason. I'm currently giving my website a complete overhaul to bring it into the modern world after thirteen years of loyal service. A new Facebook page needs updating now and again with projects that could also be written about here. A fairly debilitating injury also kept me out of my studio for about a month and made it hard to create new work to write about (it's a lot better now though).

When looking at the stats for the blog and unexpectedly seeing thousands of hits, then realising that they are obviously Russian spambots, it can seem a bit futile carrying on putting in the research and writing time to create worthwhile posts. They are written, sent out into the void and often that is it, apart from some stats that may or may not be some form of spam. It's a feeling that I'm sure other bloggers know all too well.

But then sometimes something happens to remind you why it is worthwhile. This morning I received an email from a Dr Basman, who is writing an academic paper on the way that 'software should aspire to the vernacular and personal values of the Arts and Crafts movement'. He asked if he could cite and use images from my post about meeting the spoon carver 'Barn the Spoon'. 

I really appreciated being asked but it was also great to know that someone out there is interested enough to want to use material from this blog in that kind of way. I also know that a school in the US lists my post about ancient Egyptian woodworking as recommended course reading for its students.

These things make writing blog posts worthwhile. I love hearing from people who have read them and found something there of interest. A lot of original research has gone into many of these posts, much of it unavailable anywhere else on the web to my knowledge. Any gains from writing here are certainly not financial! 

So, hopefully without sounding sycophantic or schmaltzy, I just wanted to say thank you for reading my blog. I hope that you enjoy it and, if there is anything that interests you, please do feel free to get in touch. It's great to know that you're out there.

Unless you're a spambot!

'Hollow', an art installation at the University of Bristol using timbers from 10,000 different species of tree

It would probably be fair to say that I'm fascinated by different kinds of timber to the point of being a wood nerd, so I was very interested to hear about this art installation in the Royal Fort Gardens in Bristol. 

These landscaped gardens, originally laid out by renowned designer Humphry Repton, are part of the University of Bristol. To celebrate the opening of the university's new Life Sciences building, it commissioned this permanent artwork from an organisation called Situations who worked with artist Katie Paterson and architects Zeller and Moye to create it. 

'Hollow' consists of a Modernist-style shell made from Douglas fir timbers, which surrounds a space built from and containing pieces of wood from 10,000 different species of tree. These have come from almost every country in the world and include pieces of the banyan tree under which the Buddha found enlightenment and a ginkgo tree that survived the atomic blast in Hiroshima.

Light comes in through transparent panels above and there is only room inside for one or two people at a time. The entrance is quite narrow, so some people might find it difficult to get inside.

One thing that I noticed was how the wooden shell deadens sound outside the chamber. It is a very serene space. The pieces of wood aren't marked in any way to show what they are and where they are from, which I'd loved to have known but the mystery added to the atmosphere of the space. I wonder if there is a list of the timbers used online anywhere?

Even the floor of the space is made up of blocks, some of which are fossilised timbers that are over 390 million years old. 

As I looked closer, more details became apparent. Above a visitor's head, the patterns of squared blocks shaped to let light through hide rough, unfinished pieces of wood in a partially hidden second layer.

This isn't the only large installation in these beautiful landscaped gardens. If you get the chance, it might be worth seeing it for yourself.

Timber-framed houses along Friar Street in Worcester- wonky buildings, planning using geometry and the daisy wheel

Worcester has quite a few surviving timber-framed buildings and many of them can be found along Friar Street, in the city centre. Halfway along the street is Greyfriars, which was built in 1480 as a merchant's house and has been in the care of the National Trust since 1966: 

Not as old (but also looking great) is the facade of this pub on the corner of the street.

One thing that I noticed was how wonky the jettied first floors on some of the buildings were...

The building in the lower photo shown above makes me wonder if the builders got hold of the longest suitable piece of oak that they could find to support the front wall of the first floor and then built the rest around it. The slope on the first floor of the building in the photo above it makes me wonder if they had just been on the ciders beforehand!

When these timber-framed buildings were constructed, timber didn't usually come in regular sizes. Since everything had to be cut, split or hewn by hand, carpenters would make use of what they had available and so if a beam was a bit uneven, that would just be accounted for when building around it. 

I went to a very interesting talk by Laurie Smith a while ago. He is an expert on the geometrical methods that builders used to plan constructions throughout much of history. 

When factors such as irregular sizes of materials meant that exact measurements using units such as inches were not as useful in planning a construction, things were laid out using geometry.

Laurie Smith showed us how proportions and angles were worked out using simple geometrical techniques, meaning that they could be planned using just a ruler, a pair of compasses and a scribe (such as a piece of chalk). 

At one point, he remarked that he enjoyed looking at old buildings and working out how they had been altered from their original form over time. This could be done by a knowledge of the use of geometry in planning. He could tell if a gable had been removed or rooms added because they didn't follow the patterns that were easy to spot if one has the knowledge of these procedures.

One reminder of these planning techniques that can be seen in some old buildings is a 'daisy wheel', like this one from Court Farm at Himbleton in Worcestershire:

Image from: http://www.explorethepast.co.uk/2014/10/averting-evil-evidence-from.html

Some believe that these daisy wheels were used to ward off evil in old buildings. Laurie Smith said to me that he hadn't delved into that possible side of their history, but that they certainly were an example of a design used in planning geometry as well.

A pub on Friar Street called 'The Cardinal's Hat' proclaims that it is 'Worcester's Oldest Inn'.  

Apparently there has been a pub on the site since the fourteenth century, when the inn catered to pilgrims and visitors to the nearby Friary (which ended with the Dissolution of the Monasteries by Henry VIII). The current building dates to the mid-seventeenth century and I took a moment to check out the carvings in the spandrels around the front door. These are over a window to one side:

These carvings are over the main entrance. I wonder if the letters 'D' and 'CB' refer to the pub's owners at the time, the carvers or to something else?

Making a sturdy trug - a useful basket for for gardening

A trug is a sturdy sort of basket, often used to carry tools and other heavier items. They are sometimes made of wood and a classic design is known as a 'Sussex trug'. 

Image from https://www.thenewcraftsmen.com/product/royal-sussex-garden-trug-no-7/?gclid=CJ-Gyt-ym80CFUWNGwodfLIE6g

Proper good-quality Sussex trugs are made by skilled crafts people using sweet chestnut for the handle and rim and cricket bat willow for the laths making up the basket.

I haven't trained in Sussex trug making and don't have the moulds to shape the timber. An important birthday was coming up and the recipient is a keen gardener, so I decided to make her a tough workhorse of a trug which would also be a lot more affordable than a good quality Sussex-style one.

The trug measures about 65 cm (25.5") from end to end and is actually a lot lighter than it looks, as well as being able to carry any plants or tools used in the garden. It is made from European larch with an oak handle.

The handle uprights and the laths going across the basket reused scrap wood that had been used to space timber as it seasoned. I chose pieces with as few knots as possible, so they were stronger under a load. 

The larger side bits were offcuts that were destined for the fire. With a bit of cleaning up they look great. They would also be pretty durable outdoors, although the fixings are not stainless steel which would have been my preferred choice if the trug were to be left outside (as a decorative planter, for example). 

I chose not to put any kind of finish on, as it will only look better when a bit used and worn. The larch timber will naturally go a grey/silver colour over time and doesn't need to be treated with preservative.

The finishing touch was her name carved into the side with a Dremel, so no other gardeners can walk off with Cath's nice new trug!

A kuksa (wooden vessel for food or drink) from Finnish Lapland

My Finnish friend Mika came to visit and had brought along his kuksa. A kuksa is a traditional Scandinavian vessel used for some foods and for drinking.  They are interesting to make and very comfortable to hold.

Mika's kuksa had been made near Raudanjoki (which means 'iron river') in the middle of Finnish Lapland. 

He described to me how a traditional kuksa is made from a burr (or 'burl' in the US) of birch (Betula sp.) that has grown in the far north of Scandinavia. Birch timber has no strong taste and is not toxic. These northern trees also grow more slowly and have denser timber than their more southerly-growing relatives, which makes them ideal to use.

A burr is a rounded growth caused by the tree dealing with an irritant or disease. It would be detached from the rest of the tree and then peeled to reveal the timber, which is then shaped using knives to create the kuksa. The rounded shape of the burr means that the grain travels in a curve around the bowl of the vessel, so it is stronger. The dots of dormant buds held in the grain pattern of the burr also help, as they break up the grain to reduce lines of weakness in the kuksa's bowl and so prevent damage to it.

Mika also told me that the first thing to be drunk from a new kuksa in Finland is usually good cognac. I was surprised, as it isn't a drink normally associated with Scandinavia. He explained that cognac is considered to be enhanced by being drunk from a kuksa and it also improves the vessel too, in a way that more traditional Scandinavian liquors such as aquavit or vodka don't. He used his to drink mainly coffee now and only washes it using water (not detergent) in the traditional way.

Carving an award for Penny Brohn UK, to be given to a very deserving person

Penny Brohn UK  are a charity working with people who have cancer. They contacted me recently to ask if I could make an award to thank a remarkable person called Nina Barough for her hard work raising money for cancer charities.

Among other things, Nina founded Walk the Walk events, which have been hugely successful. They have raised millions for organisations helping those affected by cancer. 

The folks at Penny Brohn were very keen to present her with a thank you gift carved using timber from a recently-cut Cedar of Lebanon in their grounds. It also had to be carved for a deadline in a month's time.

While cedar is a fairly stable wood as it seasons, using the green timber did mean that certain things had to be considered. Seasoning timber will move and change and the design had to take this into account. I normally carve timber that has been seasoned for much longer but I do also love a challenge!

Slices were cut from the log, keeping the rings as close to being at right angles to the large surfaces as possible. This means that the seasoning wood moves mainly in one plane (at right angles to the rings), rather than warping all over the place. 

The piece of wood wasn't really big enough to get a single large slab from, so I decided to join smaller bits together carefully. It took a few tests to find the best glue to use (Bostik Wood Adhesive) but eventually they glued well. I like the bands of differing colours through the timber.

After drawing the design that they had requested on to the timber directly, I started carving. The cedar carved very cleanly, even though many other softwoods don't.

The bands of colour worked nicely in the design as fields going into the distance. When the carving was completed, it looked good but I wanted to put a frame around it that would hold the cedar panel and account for any movement in seasoning.  Some seasoned ash timber was ideal. 

The frame has a small gap between it and the cedar, with the panel being held by four dowels (two at the top and two at the bottom) that aren't glued into it but are glued into the frame. This means that any movement in the cedar panel will just travel along the dowels and the assembly won't be weakened by the change. The finishing touch was a brass plaque with an inscription that was fixed to the frame.

A representative from Penny Brohn UK collected the plaque and seemed very happy with it. I suggested to her that it be hung somewhere away from direct sun and sources of heat such as radiators (to stop it drying too fast). 

Apparently Nina was very happy to have received the award and it now hangs on her wall. Here's a photo from the award ceremony, kindly supplied by Penny Brohn UK and used with their permission:

Wood carving at the 'Really Classical Relay', accompanied by historical instruments such as the viol da gamba and Baroque oboe.

Last weekend, the Bristol Music Club played host to the 'Really Classical Relay' and I was invited to demonstrate wood carving there.

The Bristol Music Club has been running for over a hundred years and specialises in hosting recitals of chamber music at its home in Clifton. 

The Really Classical Relay was a three-day event at which an international group of very talented musicians played classical pieces in a relaxed environment. Children were welcome during the day and visitors could bring food and drink from the cafe into the room while they listened. It was a really nice atmosphere to be in, as you may imagine.

I was set up in the reception next door and spent the afternoon carving a relief portrait of Beethoven into ash timber (F. excelsior). In the evening, the carving was auctioned and the profits went towards the running of the event.

Of course there were times when a quiet piece of music required me to down tools for a bit, rather than crashing over it with some unexpected percussion using mallet and gouge!

It was fun to do a relief portrait. I really enjoy the challenge of carving portraits; they aren't easy and anyone can spot if the likeness of a famous person is wrong. Happily, even without the chance to do any prior research and little reference material to work from, everyone spotted that this was Beethoven...

It was also great to see the beautiful reproductions of historical instruments such as the viol da gamba being played for some pieces.  Another instrument that caught my eye was a Baroque oboe made from boxwood (B. sempervirens), similar to this one:

Image from https://sites.google.com/site/ohmusicstudent/band-instruments/oboe/oboe-history

Thanks to Jon and the team for making me so welcome.