“ I LIKE
“ I LIKE THE IDEA OF DEDICATING MYSELF TO A SINGLE MATERIAL – EVEN IF THAT MATERIAL IS UNFORGIVING” Above: Eleanor Lakelin’s etheral wood sculptures. Right: Sebastian Cox creates unique ‘mushroom’ lampshades management technique but today the product has limited value. So he created a collection of modern pieces that retained the coppiced hazel’s natural qualities, combining high-end furniture design and craftsmanship with a material that many would only ever use as pea sticks. It was his work with coppicing that led Cox towards a rather unusual material. In a small, windowless room that looks more like a bio-storage facility than a cabinet-maker’s workshop, Cox is growing lampshades. From mushrooms. “When you coppice, you cut everything down,” he says. “And there’s a lot of waste that’s only fit for burning. So we chip it, inoculate it with mycelium and that starts to grow, eating the woodchip. Then we can pack it into moulds.” The result is a material with a soft, suede-like texture and a velvety appearance that looks both like a piece of turned wood and fabric. It’s cheap, light and strong; Cox says it would make an excellent substitute for polystyrene packaging. This awareness of the possibilities of materials and how to use them is typical of Cox’s work, and of how this new breed of designer-maker-artist operates. They’re not held back by the limitations of a material – rather, they relish the task of finding a use for it. Lakelin’s career as an artist started when someone gave her a piece of the horse chestnut she now routinely uses. “I was a cabinet maker,” she says, “and I was aware of how every tree has different properties – even within the same species.” She cut into the wood and the chaotic, unruly burr she found hooked her. “I like the idea of dedicating myself to a single material,” she says, even if that material is “unforgiving. It breaks easily and is difficult to work with. But I like that.” Making a piece “takes months,” removing bark and wood a millimetre at a time on a lathe, stripping it away from the burrs underneath. PHOTOS: ALUN CALLENDER, GLENLIVET, PETR KREJCI 34 THE JAGUAR
CRAFTSMANSHIP It’s a painstaking process; only technique makes the difference between completing a piece, or ruining it. And for designer-maker Tom Raffield, one technique has defined his look: steam bending. Like coppicing, steambending has its roots in pre-history; wood is heated using steam and then bent to the required shape. Raffield’s swoopy, looping lighting and the simple lines of his furniture are influenced by the best of mid-century design. Yet until recently steam bending was unfashionable. “I think it regressed because of lamination,” he says. “But lamination is often mass-produced, uses lots of glue and creates a lot of waste. Steam bending has become much more relevant in the 21st century. “It’s the most addictive thing I’ve ever done. And it’s limitless. There’s very little you can’t do with it. It’s a way of transferring a drawing into wood, and it reflects the fact that there aren’t any straight lines in nature.” As if to prove the point, Raffield used steam-bent ash – a material not normally associated with construction – on his house in Devon. The result is as stunning as it is successful, the sinuous cladding flowing over the stone structure of the original 19th-century cottage. Blending traditional and contemporary is a defining feature of this loosely defined craft movement. And, for Raffield, it leads to the creation of the antiques of the future, objects that will endure for centuries. “We want to make timeless pieces that will last,” says Raffield. “It’s a way of recollecting how we used to consume and use products. We can repair pieces and we develop a relationship with customers as they develop a relationship with the product. For us, creating a high-quality object is the most sustainable thing you can do.”