Sculpture, spoons and art education
Just started this spoon from a thin sheet of cedar (I think) which was cut from a small victorian table top. I’m going to try to reflect the style of Marie Eklund whose work I admire very much. I’ve tried before but haven’t got close to the fragile quality of her work. This wood is quite soft and brittle so it may not be strong enough, I’ll see.
I finished this on new year’s eve. My last spoon of 2023. The curves were really hard to get absolutely right and I had to go back and rework it about three times.
It started as a problematic off-cut from an old branch I found in a ditch. This wood is great to carve with and has a lovely rich colour and finish. I didn’t want to waste it but it presented a range of issues to be resolved. The bowl was irredeemably off centre so it had to be asymmetric. The handle had splits and knots so the final arched shape was hard to find. The knots made it impossible to get a clean line. In the end I charred the end and just smoothed over the surface left by the knife in roughing out.
As I was making it I visited a friend at his lovely old Queen Anne house in Blackheath, full of old wood and panelling. So the spoon evolved into an old 17th century artisan made, cook’s tasting spoon. It obviously belonged in that house so it became a gift to my old friend.
I’ve been working on various projects and have found that AI has made life easier. It has been useful in providing outlines, summaries, lists, commonly accepted explanations, more comprehensive descriptions and presentation of information than my old memory can muster unaided.
I have put these experments into a small Canva site so that I can share the ideas with friends.
I’m doing some work writing about a new art curriculum in Saudi Arabia and at the same time reflecting on the implications of the publication of a new Ofsted Research Paper about UK art education. The paper is rather impenetrable and probably not fit for purpose as a consequence – because teachers, and me, can’t easily understand it. But it states that it is now for teachers to make choices and decide upon the curriculum that they feel is best for their students. Until fairly recently these matters were laid down in the UK National Curriculum for Art. That teachers have a choice is a good thing, but it is quite a few decades since these matters of educational philosophy were discussed in many school art rooms.
For me it has meant going back and rummaging in old archives, dusty hard drives and rereading once familiar old books about educational philosophies. One by Maurice Barrett was the first book about Art Education I had read and which inspired me for much of my career. He was writing in 1979 about the choices that teachers could make as they developed their curriculum. (Art Education: A Strategy for Course Design) It was subsequently rather subsumed by the National Curriculum orthodoxy that followed. But today it once more has a relevance as art teachers are again being required to make choices and justify them.
In the middle of this reflection and revision of theories I found myself sitting by the fire with my granddaughter. I was working on a spoon and she crocheting a bikini top. Both of us untaught in these media and both making a similar, shallow concave shape – just intuitively using our fingers to feel and tease the shape into existence.
A few days earlier I had been reading about, and discussing with an old friend, concepts of ‘powerful knowledge‘ . I was uncomfortable with the notion of having to refer to everything as some sort of ‘knowledge’ as the Ofsted report suggests. I think what Erin and I were doing was some sort of sensate response to materials and the qualities of form, shape and texture: possibly function as well. I don’t know if there is a metaphor for curriculum purpose and content in art here. But it seemed a curious and unusual alignment of ideas and questions about making, skills and purposes in art education.
This is plum wood once again. I’ve had problems with this wood and as I have been given several pieces I am determined to work out the best way to use it. The heart-wood is red and quite dense, but the outer sap-wood is pale and weak. This block has been shaped from the inner heart-wood using an axe and a couple of saw cuts.
Another plumb wood cut out blank ready to go. However, on cutting it I’ve found some knots in this second piece so am going to have to abandon it.
Just playing with ideas for these lumps of wood. It was getting confused so I stacked them for the day and it looks as if I have a sculpture, or throne at least. I just need to secure the seat and screw in the back rest. It rather took me by surprise but I have been looking at these pieces for almost a year now.
A few of the completed scoops from the blanks shown earlier. Not sure what they might be used for mustard, sugar, salt, mint sauce other sauces?
A poster advertising some of my ‘dibbers’ at the Bohemia Walled Garden sale in Hastings. Sales were modest. But it was an Easter egg event and I had given away the better ones. So it’s not surprising.
These small chunks come from a single small branch of, I think, willow that I retrieved from the marshes of the Pevensey Levels’. It is well seasoned and a joy to carve. The fourth from the top is impossible as it has a knot and a split winding through the core. But the remaining three pieces should be enjoyable to carve. (I charred/burned the handle of the third one down, then used wire wool to smooth it over.)
I’ve just reworked the crumbling erratic border at the back of the garden. The new simple straight line is calm and clean. The sculptures are starting to feel at home here.
I found this little scrap on the floor and, to avoid having to go and do some gardening, I started to whittle. Of course I would, I was curious to see if anything could come of it. After a while this little miniature scoop turned up. I really like it, it takes up the stem from the previous small shallow spoon I carved (last post). But I have no more excuses, so a bit of walnut oil and back to the garden.
I was recently given an old, broken, black victorian side table. I guess the wood was teak or similar. I thought it would be interesting to see if it would be any good for small spoons even though it is really quite thin. However, I’m rather pleased with the shallow scoops that seem to be emerging. It’s unusual for me to make such shallow spoons and I think I will be making more. I have experimented with burning the surface which is interesting but the natural cut surface give a pleasing deep red once it is oiled (walnut oil).
I think these should be called ‘interesting bits of wood that could be used as dibbers’. So far I’ve done 17. I have found some old seasoned branches on the marshes which carve well and have a really good colour when treated with oil. So these will keep me going for a while. Ostensibly I’m making them to be sold to raise money for a charity, but actually it’s just enjoyable whittling.
These three were made consecutively, the first one is on the left, the last is on the right. It was interesting to experiment with different proportions in the first two and then come to the final shape, which is probably just about right. I will probably take a template and make more of these.
The soft, squared shape of the end of the handle was inspired by shape of an Apple Mac mouse. The wood comes from trees in my garden. The first two came from the same piece of crab apple. The third is a piece of spalted maple cut two years ago and left outside. Spalting occurs when a fungus works its way into the grain to give interesting grain patterns.
I tried to explain what a dibber is used for, but my granddaughter would have nothing of that. They were obviously wands for magic and she wanted one. But she was quite adamant that she didn’t want any of the curvy bits. She was so concerned that I would be tempted to add some discreet ‘curvy bits’ that she drew me a picture of the design and the pattern. So much for my artistic pretensions.
My professional life has been devoted to art education, and I had set up a website and blog for art teachers even before Bucks County Council (my employer as art adviser at the time) had a website of it’s own.
Occasionally it is interesting to share stuff with old and new friends and colleagues. So this website is just an opportunity to gather a few creative and professional strands together in one place. It’s an old habit, a scrapbook, or perhaps a sketchbook.
Dan China
PS Recently I have been working with others, exploring the potential of AI in art education. This is why there is a section here on AI. But I have now put all of this AI content on a fresh website for art teachers (below). This means I can separate personal and domestic stuff from professional stuff.