I enjoy all kinds of woodworking, or working wood, actually.
It is the cutting, sanding, carving, shaping, staining of pieces of wood. I
used to think of the wood as material, like clay is material to pottery, but it’s
different in that wood is a living thing. As I ventured further into this art
form, I’ve discovered that the life of the wood is an integral part of the
work, and working the wood in a way that honors its life produces the most beautiful
and meaningful pieces.
Being new to woodturning, I was advised to start with practicing
on green wood. This is wood that’s been freshly cut and not fully dried. This
is when I began to understand a piece of wood, even after being cut, is still
changing. Even years after a piece is finished, can still change shape with changes
in humidity and temperature with the seasons, so now when I finish my pieces, I
continue to think of them as continuing to have a life.
As this bowl dried the rim developed two opposite high points, giving it a more oval, boat-like shape. |
An interesting phenomenon when you turn a piece of green
wood, is the change of shape that takes place over time after it’s finished.
Turning a piece of wood on a lathe gives you a perfect circle, but the wood
continues to dry and contract. The outside layers of the tree will contract
differently than the core, so what you typically end up with is an oval bowl. Some
bowls that are turned on a lathe are so oval, you would wonder, “how is this
possible?”, but as my fellow woodturners describe the process, it’s the wood
having it’s final say. You may be an artist, and you may have the ability to
shape the wood, but nature will always make the finishing touches.
When I placed this piece of wood on the lathe, I cut it so the knots would end up on the side. |
Once I understood this, I began to give more thought to the decisions
I was making starting with cutting the wood from the tree. The wood has a
grain, knots and bug holes. Should I place the knot on the side, the
intersection with the branch on the bottom, and what angle do I want to give
the rim? And more importantly, if I want to cut the wood so the rim has a
particular shape or angle, what will the wood want to impose on my work? I’d
have to guess what that might look like on the finished piece and every time I
watched a finished piece change over time, I would learn more about the life of
trees.
To add a design on a finished piece with wood burning, you
have to keep the same things in mind. I found that the structure of the cells
in the grains of wood caused the burn to take very unevenly. If I tried to burn
a straight line, across the grain, it would result in a bumpy line, making a
deep burn where the cells were weak, and not burning at all where the cells are
compact. The same is true when applying a stain, it will be darker where the
cells are more porous, and you may not get your desired results. Again, I had
to make sure my ideas complied with the will of the wood. It doesn’t work to
impose a design on the wood that isn’t connected to the grains of it’s life.
I discovered that imposing a design that runs counter to the grain of the wood just doesn't work. You have to consider the wood's desire. |
I learned that I’m able to make more beautiful pieces by
honoring the life of the tree. Allowing the natural edge tell the story of it’s
structure and wood burning designs that fit into it’s grain. Before I burn, I
look at the “scene” and think about what the tree is trying to tell me. Do the
markings left by the ambrosia beetles look like drumlins of Boston Harbor, or
feathers on a dreamcatcher? Is that big knot in the wood a burning sun on a prairie
where horses run free, or the setting sun on a harbor where the last boats to
come in are sailing?
I find it funny that with my choices, it's the bottom of the piece that's always the most beautiful to me.
When people are shopping for hand-crafted items, they often
consider how much effort went into making that individual piece when deciding
what they’re willing to pay. What people often don’t take into account are all
the mistakes that were made on the journey to having the ability to make the
piece that you admire. All the guesswork, trials and damaged pieces that were
necessary to arrive at the skilled practice that produced the piece that you’re
considering has as much merit as the reverence for the life of the tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment