Buxus sempervirens

Q & A

2009-06-15T10:49:00.006-04:00

Jeffrey Klotz of Takara Asian Art sent me a questionnaire recently asking about my history as a carver, and thoughts and comments about my work. He's giving a workshop at the upcoming NYC INS Convention about contemporary netsuke from the point of view of contemporary carvers. If you're going to the convention, I urge you to drop in on Jeffrey's seminar. He works hard at promoting the work of contemporary netsuke-shi.

I think it's important for collectors to understand the motivations and goals of the artists themselves. People are free to interpret art as they choose- that's the beauty of it- but I think it aids in collecting if we try to see things from the artist's perspective (maybe the reason for this blog site?) From my point of view, glimpses into another artist's head are invaluable for my own development.

So, here's an excerpt from the questionnaire:

Any personal comments you may want to make about your work or yourself or any
comments you think might help collectors to better understand you or your work.
I tend to not place too much emphasis on symbolism or artistic statement in my works. They are what they literally are- small carvings. I try to create something that will bring beauty and enjoyment to people's lives; not an overt expression of ego or aspiration. I'm learning to not get caught up with the minutiae of a subject, but to look for its essence instead. Most of all, I enjoy the process of improvement, exploration and development. I've learned to not be in a rush, but to do good work, attempt improvement and enjoy the ride!

Do you do much planning when you are going to carve a netsuke?
Yes, I create a number of sketches normally to find a pleasing composition or posture in a piece. I'll have an image in my mind that's perfect in its intangible way. Sketching begins the process of educating your hands and eyes what the mind already knows. I collect a number of reference images if it's a subject I'm not too familiar with. I'll sometimes create a rough clay model, or even a casual carving to understand the form better before starting in fully.

Where do your ideas come from? All around- walks, books, dreams, television.

Do your inspirations come from your heart and/or your mind? I suppose. I don't think there's much difference between the two for an artist.

Do you work on several pieces at once? On occasion… but I think it's a bad habit! That said, there are times when it makes good economic sense to be working concurrently- when a carving needs to sit for some time to let a finish dry, or to take a step back and let the mind return afresh, restore some energy after a stressful carving phase, etc. During those times, you can get up to roughing out a new piece…

Do you have a set schedule for when you carve? No- whenever I can find the time.

Where do you carve? - Describe the room. A spare bedroom. It has my reference books in a bookcase, a small CD player, my carving benches, tools, boxes and small cabinets of wood and other raw materials. The lighting could be much better though. I'll clean things up before each new carving, then it gets messy again as the carving goes on. I work seated on the floor. I have a feeling that I have much less gear than some other people. It's easy to get caught in the tool trap. It doesn't take much to create good work.

Do you feel removed from the rest of the world when you carve? Sure!

When you are designing a piece, do you keep in mind traditional constraints on netsuke that would allow them to be worn and to be practical for use? Yes, I have this in mind always. Whether or not I am successful always is another question! I think some people misunderstand the art form and create very baroque pieces. There's a current in contemporary carving to create wedding cakes and wax figures.

How did you become interested in netsuke? I studied art in college at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The collections in the museum were viewed almost daily, and I became interested in the decorative art and craft of Japan, especially netsuke. I also had a Japanese professor at the time and many fellow Japanese students as friends, so I learned a lot about the culture of Japan from them.

How did you decide to become a netsuke carver? I was unemployed for a period in 2000 and bought a piece of boxwood and a couple of tools and started as a way to pass the time. I was hooked instantly.

How has your style changed since you first started carving netsuke? It may seem ironic, but I've carved fewer and fewer things of an overtly Japanese theme as I understand the netsuke art form and Japanese decorative art more and more. I try to take on less complexity in thematic, decorative, technical terms with newer carvings, instead focusing on toolwork, quality of finish, design… the basic formal elements that make a decent work of art. The Japanese-ness is internalized (I hope) rather than overt. I think a lot of artists go through phases of getting back to basics- I'm doing that right now.

Where do you see yourself going with your carving? Wherever it will take me- I'm still a beginner! I'll strive to create more straightforward, confident, direct carvings that can stand alone without explanation. There's a directness that comes with experience and a real understanding of what beauty and creation is. I'd like to strip away fussiness and the trap some carvers get into with piling on preciousness…that's not netsuke: its jewelry.
There's a point in creation where the object severs the umbilical cord and breathes unaided by the creator. It's wonderful when it happens. The piece is clearly made by so-and-so, but now it walks on its own two feet.

Who was your main carving or netsuke carving teacher? Self-study, life. I wonder if you can really learn much from someone, aside from technical tips? If you're clever and resourceful and keep at it you'll get most of it on your own. It might take a bit longer, but I think the knowledge is more solid.

Who were your other carving or netsuke carving teachers? Though I haven't learned from anyone directly in person, I've been influenced by seeing the work of others in museums, or through photographs. Bishu and Masatoshi's works where I could find them were an influence when I began along with Janel Jacobson. Her online presence helped me a lot in understanding the discipline I would need to create real works of art- in the sense of seeing her own development, visible skill, marketing, etc. She personally encouraged me too, from the start. I'm really influenced now by So School carvers. There are some good online forums with certain artists who are honest with criticism and encouragement, and open with sharing tips. I appreciate a good dialog. It's a shame I cannot meet with these people for a few beers each month and just hash out ideas. I'd be a better artist for it.

Which of your teachers has influenced you most and how have your teachers influenced you? The carvers whose works I look at help inspire me by setting the bar high and help me discern elements I like and dislike. By looking at enough work, we begin to sort out what is important to us as an artist, personally. If you see enough work, you begin to get a wide enough vocabulary that you're no longer copying and coming up with pastiche, but really creating something honest, within its own moment. Being a good student is tough, but being a good teacher might be even harder. Those teachers I haven't mentioned- thank you!

Have you been influenced by carvers from the past? Sure. Particularly those represented in the MFA collection.

Who or what else has influenced you? I look at a lot of other craft forms- ceramics and basketry right now, but also other types of wood carving, textile arts, musical instrument making, prints and drawings. I'm a bit grumpy over the state of contemporary art and what has become known as 'studio craft' so I steer clear of that. Too much glitz! I read a bit of poetry and wonder if I can find a way to incorporate the poet's vision into my work.

Are you carving for yourself or your audience? Myself mostly. Peers, a little bit- I think they're my audience.

How do you feel about selling your pieces? I don't mind. For a number of years after I began carving people would say 'you've really got to try to sell that piece' or 'you could get X dollars for that', but it took me a while to be assured personally that I was doing even remotely good work, before I took someone's money for it. It wasn't a matter of confidence in my work-though I've been dissatisfied with a carving, I think I'm right where I should be. I just didn't want to put something out there until it met my standards.

I still have a tough time with selling (not the parting with, but the taking cash). There's so much junk being created today, by artists full of ego (I'm talking about the larger art and craft world), who get personal gratification from their art based around if they're selling and for how much. The artwork hasn't changed if it sells for $500 or $5000. Its spirit and quality is the same. I don't rely on sales as a major source of income, so perhaps I don't have the same financial pressures as some other carvers. I'd just as soon not deal with the business end of things- promotion, pricing, commissions, correspondence, etc.

How does interaction with other netsuke artists and netsuke collectors affect you and your work? I don't really have much contact with people who have purchased my pieces (through dealers, or online)…it's probably better that way (wink)! Truthfully, a lot of collectors/dealers are boastful, uneducated, and boorish in their demeanor. I think we'd all like our pieces to go to people who have saved their pennies and find an intimate connection with our art. I've found a couple of those too!
I've enjoyed every moment I've had with other carvers. We're a fun bunch of eccentrics. I learn a lot, not necessarily in terms of skills, but by the examples they've set as people.

How has being a carver changed your life? It has taught me the value of discipline and stick-to-it-ness. I've met some great people through this endeavor. I've had my eyes opened to other cultures and times.

...Thanks for asking questions Jeffrey-

Joy

2009-06-09T13:01:00.011-04:00

I finished this one about a month ago, and it's the first photo of work using my new camera, which I think is giving me much better results than past efforts.

The figure was inspired by a statue I saw last summer in Japan on the grounds of Nanzen-ji. It's carved out of holly, with a coating of gofun paint. It's not a very detailed work, or labor intensive even- I was inspired to be fairly direct with the expression, and to experiment a bit with surface treatment to develop the theme further.

It measures about 1 3/4 inches.

Something I read...

2009-05-06T20:36:00.003-04:00

I came across an article today in a back issue of Matrix, #14 -1994, that caught my eye. Desmond Chute, an early twentieth century British artist who later became a Catholic priest (and lived at Eric Gill's Ditchling Community) was tutoring, via mailed correspondence, the young nun Eileen Werburg in the art of wood engraving. She'd evidently cut a few blocks and sent the proofs to Chute for critique and encouragement. Chute writes the following, excerpted, which to me speaks a lot for my own thoughts about the art I make, and see being made around me.

"...[there is] a more serious, yet an intangible defect [he's commenting here on a particular print she's made] - that is artiness - we all feel it to be there. It is the vice of all modern work; very, very few escape. I can't say where, but I can smell the arty-arty somewhere. Today we see much too much & know much too much- or rather we expend a little observation and less knowledge on a vast field. The true mediaevals were never arty. True art is having a job to do & doing it well for the love of God and of man. To do your work well is in the order of justice; & if we seek 'His justice' beauty is added to us. At least so it seems to me. Only it is so hard to seek HIS justice- & half-confessing that, it may be, we don't trust Him for beauty, but make it the object of our solicitude. I, personally, work on symbolic grounds, not invariably, but as a rule - drawing this line tighter to express this or that intellectual truth or movement of the affections- using this or that colour - but not so frequently - to express this or that virtue. Thus I hope gradually to outgrow the dust of artworldliness. But expression is what we seek not imitation - to make things, as God makes flowers. And because we must love God's work, we must respect our materials & use only what is true & good. Justice again - by seeking to be just to God, just to his creation & just to man, we safeguard ourselves completely against ugliness in colour, in surface -
for if all your colours be good, you cannot mismanage them..."

Now, Chute was obviously looking at this from his devout Roman Catholic point of view and I choose a morality that respects the natural world for its own sake aside from a divine creation, but there is a dialog an artist has between himself and his work. For what or whom are we creating? To whom do we answer? The last sentence of the passage might seem a little naive and of wishful thinking, but if our intentions are true and honest (your conscience will let you know when they aren't - no need to hear it from God), it will go a long way towards creating something just and good.

As I progress in my development as a carver, I'm finding more and more that the inner voice of justice (i.e. doing just work) becomes louder and clearer, and hopefully my carvings have a greater truth to them and less artiness.

Printmaking

2009-04-25T07:55:00.006-04:00

Last weekend, here in Bloomington, I attended a wood engraving workshop taught by Gaylord Schanilec. Gaylord gave a talk the night before at Indiana University's Lilly Library about his personal history as an artist and printer. He's recently completed Sylvae; a catalogue and guide to the 24 species of trees on his Wisconsin property. The theme of trees and printing their grain was to come up in the workshop later.

With it being a two-day introduction and the fact that I haven't done this sort of printmaking before, I didn't get too ambitious in subject matter or complexity.

Gaylord has found that endgrain blocks of hard maple work just as well, if not better, for his purposes as the more traditional boxwood, so that's what was used for my print. The background block was printed from elm, if I'm remembering correctly. I learned a bit about the marks which different gravers make as well as how to operate a Vandercook proofing press.

It's been a long time since I've done artwork in two dimensions, especially this sort of thing where what you create on the block isn't directly related to what you get as a final result. The image is reversed, of course, but also with wood engraving if you want to create a black line, you've got to cut it twice- once on each side. The tendency is for beginners to create white-line images, on black backgrounds because it's much easier to conceive. At one point I realized I was carving the block instead of engraving it, so if I want to delve further into this art form, my mind's got to separate the three-dimensional instincts of miniature carving and its tool use, from those of two dimensions.
I have some boxwood in my store that isn't idea for carving, so I might cut out some type-high blocks, order some gravers and get cutting.

Cathartes aura

2009-03-11T11:20:00.005-04:00

Every night, about an hour before sunset dozens of turkey vultures begin gathering in the sky above my neighborhood. They've chosen the trees behind an (un)fortunate house to roost communally for the night. We live on a limestone bluff of sorts, overlooking several corn and soybean fields placed in a flood plain. I think it must be a good place to catch one of the last updrafts of the day for a final soar while waiting for others to gather to bed-in for the night. Again in the morning the fields heat up and the vultures can get an easy boost up into the air to spend another day looking for roadkill opossums and squirrels.

As majestic as the soaring can seem, up close they're really ugly creatures, but I keep thinking they might make an interesting subject for a carving. Maybe by injecting some humor into it.

The Old Goat is finished.

2009-02-28T21:32:00.009-05:00

I finished him up earlier in the week and have just taken a couple of photographs. The sculpture measures 1 7/8 inches (5cm) high. He's carved in boxwood and then colored. The subject is an old satyr, half blind and crippled - He's just heard a distant call, or caught a scent in the air and is stopped in his tracks with his ear to it, trying to discern. Is it a nymph?

I'm satisfied with this piece as it's the first time I've tried to carve the human figure and I think it didn't come out too bad. More importantly, I'm happy with the overall quality of the carving and the finishing. Lately, I've been thinking about netsuke- both contemporary and antique and have begun to think that many of today's pieces, though showing extreme talent, creativity and care, have become just a bit too precious and rarefied. The directness and vitality of earlier works is becoming lost- it's almost if we're entering a baroque phase with this type of carving. Some have become figurines.
So, keeping that in mind, I wanted to stress the directness of carving with this piece- not sanding and polishing out too many details and facets of the knife cut. This is afterall a carving in wood, with edge tools, and should show it. I've noticed with some of my work lately that the sanding and polishing process dulls the work- both visually and impact-wise. The impression becomes watered down from an earlier phase in the creation, after the carving work has ended and I'm on to sanding and refinement.

Let me know what you think. In the meantime, I'm on to ideas for the next piece from what I learned by this one.

Note: I've updated this post 6/9/09 to show better photographs.

Getting closer

2009-02-24T11:33:00.002-05:00

Here's the next set of pictures of the on-going work. The carving is finished and the piece is mostly polished through. A bit more time with polishing and then coloring and it'll be finished.

More carving....

2009-02-21T10:14:00.002-05:00

Here are some updates pictures of how the satyr is coming along-

Poseidon's Mount

2009-02-20T16:31:00.005-05:00

I finished this hippopcampus last week. It's carved in boxwood with a light staining, and sumi to pick up some of the details. The eyes are horn. I have to say, the most fun was plotting out, carving and dyeing the scales of his hindquarters.

Preview of Coming Attractions

2009-02-19T18:04:00.007-05:00

I started this little fellow yesterday and am happy with the way things are coming along, so I thought I'd break with tradition and show a couple of photos taken at the carving bench.

As the Bowl Turns

2009-01-01T18:41:00.003-05:00

Robin Wood is a bowlturner living in England. I came across his work last week and thought I'd pass the link along. He works with green wood and a foot powered pole lathe- creating bowls based on traditional English and Scottish designs. Spoons too.

I like the utilitarian purpose and design of his work, as well as the scholarly yet easy attitude he seems to bring to it. The designs aren't necessarily artistic statements. The forms are simple, functional, sturdy and honest. They're rightly beautiful. Why so? Perhaps it the familiarity that comes from turning thousands of pieces. Perhaps he's gotten past thinking about it.

On the contrary, so much of what I see in contemporary bowl turning comes down to being, well, downright ugly. Wood grain and pattern are poorly utilized in an attempt to make an 'artistic statement', or one-off piece. Forms show no grace. Wasted wood.

Please have a look at Robin's website and blog. Let him know what you think.

Void of Life

2008-12-23T09:49:00.015-05:00

This carving was completed last month but I didn't get a decent photograph until this weekend. It's depicting a dead ptarmigan and was created for an online exhibit to open shortly.

It measures just over 3 inches in length and is carved from boxwood, with a light scumbling of paint made from animal glue and gofun. I had a tought time with the finish on this one- I really liked the bare wood, especially in a soft light where the volume of the body and the feathers showed to an advantage. A recent trip to New York and an exhibit at the Japan Society changed my mind. There were several basketry pieces coated in rough mixtures of gofun, ash, sumi and clay. The tactility and coarseness attracted me and I left thinking I'd like to explore more in this vein. At any rate, after three trial coatings and subsequent strippings, I settled on this wash of paint that was dabbled on.

It gives a nice soft effect- absorbing light and adding a satifying feel in the hand. The paint forms a sort of crust on the high points of the carving and suggests fleeting life inside.

Belt Hook

2008-12-21T20:01:00.007-05:00

I finished this piece recently. It's in the shape of a Chinese belt hook- an accessory used in ancient times to fasten one's belt or cloak. The stud on the base would fit into a hole or slit in the belt, and the curved hook part would latch to the other side. They were made out of bronze, iron or stone; typically jade. They run the spectrum from ornately gilt and inlaid pieces, to ones that seem to be purely functional. Wanting to develop a narrative with this piece, I chose a cat-like beast on one end with rabbit or hare on the other. It measures 3 1/4 in. (8 cm) long and is carved from mountain mahogany, with a light wash of verdigris pigment to suggest some age and patina.

Modern-day Inro?

2008-12-08T14:26:00.006-05:00

I came across this case at a store recently, made by the design company Umbra. They call it a Bungee Micro, but I think it looks suspiciously like an inro, like this one from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts:

There's a small elastic cord than runs up internal cord channels and joins at the top of the case. The upper portion lifts as a lid and then fits back into place with the retention of the cord. There aren't stacking compartments in this one (hey, it's under 6 bucks) but it will fit money and a set of keys. The neck cord is also the perfect thickness to fit into the himotoshi of a netsuke, for suspension from your belt. There are business card holders and mp3 player cases in the Bungee line too.

End of the Season

2008-12-07T12:26:00.006-05:00

Autumn might be still on the calendar, but Winter brought a chilly 6 degrees F this morning. The picture above was taken a few weeks back when there were still plenty of plump, sweet persimmons in the trees. The few that remain now look like neglected Christmas ornaments on a twiggy bough.

I haven't posted anything since July- not because I haven't been working and creating things, but I just haven't been happy with the quality of the photographs. The more I think about it, it seems like these days with ease of photo sharing online, the picture has almost become the surrogate for the object shown. Artists are finding new ways of marketing themselves. Dealers and collectors are able to discover new works, giving them a taste before arranging to see the actual items and purchasing.

My carvings are appreciated by those who purchase them, but without a successful photo there's a trap I fall in to thinking the item hasn't be legitimatized.

A photograph can never capture the reality of the piece, especially an intimate carving, yet it's the standard by which artworks are often judged these days. There are exquisite works of art from the past and present which will never appear online. Don't forget we see with our fingers and noses as much as our eyes. Get out there and see some work in person. Give it a caress and a sniff.

Stay tuned... I've got three works in the final stages right now and a friend with a camera dropping by. We'll try to capture something.

Something Utilitarian

2008-07-18T19:01:00.003-04:00

This past June I visited Japan for two weeks and had a fruitful time studying aspects of design and craft as I encountered them- especially those little things that crop up in everyday life. At a meal one night with friends, we were served a dish of soft tofu curds garnished with shaved dried tuna and sea salt in a small cedar bucket, with a wooden spoon as a serving utensil. For some reason, the design and purpose of the spoon stuck with me. Up 'til that time I had never carved a spoon so I thought I'd give it a try with a piece of dense cherry from my stock.

In no time at all, I began thinking about the qualities that make a good spoon- I type them here in a rough way as they came to me:

The shape of the bowl relates to the intended foodstuff it will carry- will it be a liquid and therefore more ladle-like shapes needed? A solid, but loose or granular food needs a square front edge to dig in; something drier but clumping (mashed potatoes?) can be transferred with a shallower bowl.

The angle of the bowl in relation to the stem, and in turn how it relates to the angle with which it's held.
The graceful curve in elevation starting with a tight turn for the bowl, and slowly arcing to a taper at the end of the stem.

How the stem fits in one's hand at the points of the fingers' grip and where it rests in the fleshy part between thumb and forefinger.

The center of gravity and the relationship between the mass of the bowl and that of the stem.

The finish of the carving- rough hewn to provide a satisfying grip, or polished to compliment the elegance of a meal?

The transition between the bowl and stem needs to be considered- abrupt, or tapering?

How will the bowl feel in one's mouth, if it's to be a personal spoon?

I'll end the brainstorming there, but the point is, even the simplest of tools can require an exercise in forethought and design.

The Past Revisited

2008-07-17T18:52:00.010-04:00

Several years ago I was working in an archaeology lab at a university in England and acquired a piece of deer antler that had been recovered from a peat bog in Scotland. Excavation suggested it was many hundreds of years old. In the timespan, it had developed a beautiful chocolate brown coloration- perhaps from the tannins and minerals present. It was a precious material and I didn't want to do too much to it to ruin or distract from its beauty. A simple vine of ivy seemed an appropriate solution.

The piece existed this way for a year or two without attracting much interest and I started revisiting the subject. Clive Hallam, an accomplished carver of small scale (the carvings, not the man!), kindly suggested that I was approaching the material too delicately- causing me to hold back. I wanted to convey the age of the material through the subject matter and thought that the ivy (suggesting age) needed a counterbalance. The material's origin in Scotland gave me the answer. The pale area you can see to the lower right needed attention. I settled on creating a suggestion of an ivy vine growing on a decayed structure of wattle and daub- an early building method of woven branches covered in mud and straw (perhaps some muck, to boot!) finished with a finer coating of mud. This construction method was used when the antler was initially given its burial and seems appropriate. Some of the ivy leaves were revised with wood inlay and highlights of dew or freshness added with silver. Himotoshi are lined with ebony.

Two horses: same color

2008-06-02T21:30:00.006-04:00

I thought with this modest post I'd give links to two websites of artists and craftspeople working with the same color: Blue. More specifically, they are dyeing with the chemical compound Indigotin.
Indigotin is found chiefly in two plants: Woad (Isatis tinctoria) and Indigo (Indigofera tinctoria)- the second part of both plant names tips us off to their use. Indigo apparently has thirty times more blue potential in it than woad, which explains in part why it has never exactly gone out of use.
Woad however, was the dye used mostly in Europe until cheap exports of Indigo from India (via England) ruined the local business. This wasn't entirely a bad thing though- there are writings from the time expressing the effect woad had on the land- it robs soil of much of its nutrition, creating a wasteland in its wake and requiring fresh soil every ten years or so to keep the plants viable. Currently, it is naturalized in the US and very much a nuisance weed in certain areas.

Back to the artisans though:
The first, Bleu de Lectoure is a business run by a couple in France creating all sorts of products using woad as the coloring agent. Pastels, house paints and clothing are just some of their creations.

The second, is the work of Rowland Ricketts and his wife Chinami: They've farmed and processed indigo in the past and use it in their fiber art presently. Their work expresses beauty and lightness in a very contemporary style.

Either way, I'm sure you'll agree that in skilled hands these plants contribute something wonderful.

The Art of Small Things

2008-04-17T20:07:00.006-04:00

I've recently finished reading The Art of Small Things by John Mack, published by Harvard University Press, 2007. Mack explores our fascination with small, crafted items and offers a survey of their forms and functions in a variety of cultures spanning several millenia. "The making and manipulating of the miniature constitute not just the product of a technology of the aesthetic but also a cultural process... the starting point for narratives that can be of potentially epic proportions." Illustrated with items in the British Museum's collections, the book is written in a straightforward manner, clearly intended for general consumption. For those interested in netsuke, several pages are devoted to this art form. Interest in this aspect comes not from new light he sheds on these carvings, but their placement within a broader context of small objects made for personal adornment.

Thoughts on Wood

2008-04-03T20:35:00.009-04:00

I take the title of this post from an essay by Robert Gibbings, of the same name. It was published in Matrix, an annual letterpressed effort by the Whittington Press in England. Matrix offers essays, reminiscences, illustrations and samples of topics related to letterpress printing. Paper marbling, wood engraving, graphic design, and printing history are all represented in this hand-set work of art.

More to the point, Matrix volume 9, published 1989 contains an essay- excerpts of which are quoted here- illustrating Gibbings' sense of humor and reverence for materials:

"Not far from where I now live there dwelt until he died a carpenter by name Timothy Wood. 'Timbery Wood' they called him. 'A proper craftsman he was and strict with his apprentices. He'd come along to one of the lads and he'd say, "How's that mortice going?" And the boy might answer, "Near enough." "Near enough won't do," says old Timbery, "it's got to be just right." Then half an hour later he'd come along again. "How's that mortice going?" he'd ask. "Just right", says the boy. "That's near enough", says the old man.'

...

Precision - wood calls for it: gentle, tractable material, exquisite to contemplate, whether alive in a forest, where every branch is a record of the winds that blow, or dead in a timber yard where the serpentine grain of the planks reveals a history of its growth. It may even tell the death of a neighbor, for where in a forest a tree has fallen there will be increased light and air, and where there is increase of light and air there will be increased development in the trees that remain.

...

In Venezuela and certain regions of South Africa the growth of a box tree remains constant, slow and steady; a cross-section of its trunk shows the rings as regular and even as the plumelets on a feather. That is why boxwood from those countries gives to the engraver a close-fibred material that is as hard almost as metal. On the end of that grain the artist's burin incises lines in any direction that the guiding hand may desire; there is no let or hindrance from the grain."

Incidentally- the illustrated toolbox, courtesy of Tyne and Wear Museums , is from none other than Thomas Bewick. More about him later.

Gone Fishing

2008-04-03T20:04:00.003-04:00

This recently finished carving was inspired by a wood engraving by Robert Gibbings in his book Coming Down the Wye . Chapter Three (pg 14) contains a short, humorous account of his meeting a poacher along this Welsh river. I've got an interest in wood engraved illustrations and Gibbings' work has become a favorite of mine lately. The carving measures 4cm across. It was scultped from boxwood, with the trouts' eyes inlaid with pearl shell, and a buckle of ivory. Strap loops on the back are inlaid in mopane, a southern African wood. It has been selectively stained using an acid oxidation technique. This piece along with others of mine will be for sale at Edgewood Orchard Gallery for their 2008 season. Edgewood Orchard is located in Door County, northern Wisconsin. This part of Wisconsin is perfect for a weekend trip- small villages showing touches of Scandanavian heritage, many galleries, cherry orchards, views of Lake Michigan and of course, delicious places to eat. If you enjoy fishing, you might even land your own bag of trout.

Still available

2008-03-05T16:38:00.003-05:00

I've had a number of emails lately from people enquiring what is still available out of the carvings displayed on my previous website, so I'm presenting pictures of them here. All are available through Takara Asian Art . In addition to this, I have a few other pieces that are more functional in nature- pendants, and hair combs/sticks. Feel free to email me if you're interested.

(Not so) wise old owl

2008-03-03T19:55:00.002-05:00

I've got several irons in the fire right now, but I completed this bead recently. It measures 3/4 inch (1.9 cm) in height. Carved out of boxwood, with ebony eyes. I had in mind the depiction of an 'elder statesman' of sorts- the kind we're all supposed to respect- but holding more opinions than common sense. With suitable frown and suspicious eyes, he seems to fit the bill.

Boxwood

2008-02-10T17:42:00.000-05:00

There are over 70 species of boxwood around the world, but only two have chiefly been used for the creation of small tools and art objects throughout history. Buxus sempervirens- the common or European box and Buxus microphylla- the little leaf box. Sempervirens naturally enough means evergreen which may give you a clue to this bush's tenacity. It grows in hot, dry climates of western and southern Europe, over to pick up a small bit of land in England, then down to Morocco and westward through the Mideterranean to finish the circle in Turkey. Microphylla grows in Asia, with varieties native to parts of China, Japan, and Korea. In these climates, the box grows slowly; barely gaining an inch in diameter over 40 or 50 years. It is this density that allows box to be durable and take on detail and high polish.
To name a few of its uses in the West, I can think of slide rules, recorders, carpenter's planes, chess pieces, tuning pegs on stringed instruments and bobbins for lacemaking. Mallets and beaters for lead working and rulers for measuring. The Eastern box has been used for hanko, shogi pieces, abacus beads, and combs...

...and of course figural carvings along the lines of netsuke!

As my skills develop and I'm demanding better material to work with, I've become choosier about the boxwood I use. Most box on the market now, to my knowledge, comes from England, the Pyrenees, Turkey and East Asia. Each has its own characteristics of color, density, oilyness, dryness and ability to take a polish. It's not the cheapest wood out there, but it certainly is one of the best.

Something to keep in mind the next time you glance at that neglected box hedge in the corner of a suburban yard.

Barn owl in winter

2008-02-06T19:09:00.001-05:00

Carved from a deer antler rosette (the basal portion of the antler connecting it to the skull) with horn eyes, it measures about 1 1/2 inches in diameter. There's something about using antler that, for me, seems ideal for winter subjects. The opaqueness and subtle gray streaking, coolness to the touch, and high polish evoke cold weather and barrenness. This piece was interesting to carve from a material perspective; the top portion is antler while the bottom, beneath the irregular edge, is more bone-like. Each reacted differently during carving and polishing. I'm really fond of this piece- it has a quietness about it that people seem to pick up on, but is impossible to convey in photographs.