I always enjoy the work I do, but there are times when it can become fiddly or frustrating. This piece of Rococo-style ornament was a form of stress relief for me when I was working on a particularly finicky restoration job. The job in question was in oak, and I was carving tiny pieces to replace ornament that had been damaged over the years. Oak tends to be hard and brittle when compared to other woods, and while it looks beautiful when it's finished I often find it frustrating to tease tiny details from it because a moment of inattention can mean the loss of that very fine edge you've spent all that time creating.
The acanthus leaf here is carved from lime wood, which is oak's much more compliant cousin. It does what it's told with little complaint and it holds a beautiful level of detail. Really nice lime has a pinkish colour to it and a particular feel and sound when you're cutting into it; lovely and crisp. You can see that here in an off-cut I keep next to my sharpening stones to check my chisels when I'm sharpening. Some woods don’t tend to show much evidence if your chisels are a little blunt, besides making your life more difficult, but the tiniest nick or bur will leave white streaks behind on lime that are undesirable on the finished surface.
This carving was pure fun. It’s a nod towards Rococo ornament but there are inconsistencies compared with contemporary work, and more inspiration was drawn from the ormolu (gilt bronze) fixtures often found on furniture of the period than from examples in wood carving.
You can see here some of the process that goes into making something new, from start to finish. The drawing is a working one, more to iron out a potential layout and design than to produce something that is beautiful to look at. You can see several proto-sketches preceding the main design at the edges.
I find drawing so important in the design process, even for something simple like this. Beyond just expelling something from your brain onto the paper, it’s where most of the really difficult thought happens for me. It’s where I test out ideas, different styles, layouts; this can be done so much more quickly with a pencil than in clay. It’s also where I begin to think about the structure of the thing I’m making.
The design was then worked up in clay. Here’s where the really interesting part happens for me. With a firm drawing to work from the rough outline comes quickly, but this is also where I can hold in my hands something physical, turn it round, look at it from different angles and assess what works and what doesn’t in a way that I can’t do on paper. I can adjust the lines so that they work best and move from one shape into the next in a way that makes sense and is pleasing to the eye. I really enjoy this part. It’s often the bit I find most difficult, but it’s also the part that provides the most reward because I get immediate feedback. I can make quick changes, test out ideas, and if I don’t like them, cut them away or add bits back on.
I’d normally carve directly from the clay model, but as this carving was intended to be shown I made a plaster waste mould of the model so that it could be hung in line with the drawing and finished carving and the whole process could be seen from start to finish. Waste moulds involve creating a plaster negative from the clay model, removing the clay, and then refilling the negative with casting plaster to form the positive. You can see in the photographs where I’ve added a blue pigment to the first ‘flick’ coat that captures the detail from the clay model, so that as I chip away the plaster negative I can tell when I’m getting close to the plaster cast itself and (ideally) avoid putting my chisel into the finished cast.
Finally, there are the process shots from carving the acanthus. Sadly I forgot to take one of it as it was when I began – when it really was just an outline in a block of wood. I always enjoy looking back on that when I’ve finished: even after years it still feels like a miraculous sort of transformation when I compare what it started as and what it is when a piece is finished.
