re-love challenge: the finished piece

Hoorah! The piece for Feast Watson's Re-Love challenge is now complete! I'm pretty happy with the result. Read more about this challenge and my design intent here.

Keep your eye on the Re-Love website from May 9th for details of the auction. All nine pieces including this one will be sold off to raise money for the Salvos Stores.

If you're curious, I've listed the steps below. I used a mix of Feast Watson's Black Japan Stain & Varnish, Liming White Stain, Liming White Stain with varnish and Dulux's Quit Rust in Black for the metal frame.

1. The piece was lightly sanded, including the metal frame.
2. The area around the frame was masked off before applying three coats of the Quick Rust in Matt Black.
3. The lower board was given four coats of the Black Japan Stain & Varnish.
4. One coat of the Liming White Stain (without varnish) was applied with a cloth and then a second coat applied with a brush. This coat was allowed to dry completely over a few days.
5. A tessellated pattern was designed on CAD to suit the dimensions of the table. I started by dividing the table size into equal rectangular blocks and then manipulated the shape from there (using this method).
6. The pattern was transferred onto contact paper, which formed the stencil. The stencil pieces were cut out then laid over the areas to be blocked out. The contact pieces were stuck onto a piece of fabric before sticking it onto the table. This knocked out some of the stickiness, protecting the limewash on the table and making it easier to remove later on.
7. Using a cloth (and yes, that is an old sock), the liming wash without varnish was dabbed onto the exposed areas. This coat was layered on quite thick and intentionally patchy. The contact was removed while still wet. This layer was allowed to fully dry over a few days.
8. To drop the level of contrast out and also seal the finish, the entire top was given another two coats of the Liming Wash with varnish.

Photography and styling by me. Assistance with heavy lifting/props manoeuvring by my sister. Thanks also to my parents who generously allowed me to turn their terrace into my temporary workshop. Thanks a bunch team Leoncio :)

re-love challenge

1. Dip Chair by Folklore || 2. Fall/Winter bench by Valentin Loellman via designboom || 3. Gentle Chair for Porro by Front || 4. Jake chair by Koskela || 5. Verona Dining table by Folklore || 6. 62 Series by Greta Grossman reissued by Gubi via Daily Tonic || 7. JAZZ sideboard by Mambo Unlimited via Retail Design Blog || 8. Milking stools by Um Project

I am excited to share that I'm one of nine designers participating in the Feast Watson's Re-love Challenge. The challenge? Source a piece of worn timber furniture and pimp it til it's so bangin' we can raise a small fortune for The Salvos at auction. You know I love a good weekend project and it's for a good cause. Double win.

As I'll have access to the full Feast Watson timber finishing range, I've been scouring the net for furniture precedents where the timber finish is the main event. It's getting me all excited and I can't wait to get started.

I've picked up this simple coffee table with steel framed legs. I was looking for something simple, with a large flat area so I can experiment with surface treatment. I also wanted something currently unloved and potentially headed to landfill, as saving such a piece is what makes this challenge rewarding. Judging from the rather tenacious layer of dust and cobwebs on this number, I think this guy is just the ticket.

tasmanian conversations: interia / a visit to brad's

Having said in our first guest post that writing about our work was not particularly interesting, I am going to use my (Karryn) prerogative as a woman and do a u-turn.

Last week Dean (in the blue stripy beanie) and Jonathan Wherrett , my fellow collaborators, made a trip to Kaoota in Southern Tasmania, to the workshop of Brad Latham, who hand makes our Big O range of architectural hardware. Besides sharing these beautiful photos with you, I actually thought this would be a good opportunity to explain our fascination with things that are made by hand, things that are repurposed and how Tasmania has influenced our work.

 Dean and I run a small architecture and interior design studio in Hobart. Our work is quite varied, encompassing both commercial and residential projects, and more often than not, budget ‘challenged’. I can see all the architects shrugging their shoulders and wondering what else is new, but a Tasmanian budget is a completely different kettle of fish. One of the devices we employ to stretch our budgets a tiny bit further has been material reuse, not news I know, but of growing interest to our practice.

We recently pulled together a bar using scraps and leftover bits of pieces from other building works within the same building. Luckily, the building had great bones to strip back and reveal. We spent more time on site than at the computer for this project, working closely with the client and the builder, to reuse as much of the building fabric as possible.

At the same time, we were involved in a residential ‘alts and adds’ project in a suburb just outside of Hobart. Again, we salvaged materials from the house and reused them in a different context. The search for a timber door pull began in this project. We couldn’t find anything and the client had resorted to diy masking tape pulls. In desperation we ended up settling on metal pulls. This project sparked the ‘light bulb moment’ in our studio and we decided to try and produce our very own range of timber hardware using off cut timber from the Tasmanian furniture and construction industry.  We had recently learned that huge quantities of this beautiful resource are burnt each year, as it simply has no use.

This project, which has now gone on to become a rather healthy arm of our studio, has most importantly afforded us the time to tinker with the tiny details of an object made by hand. We see this as a luxury, one that cannot be afforded by our architectural and design projects.

I think Dean and I both bemoan building in a world where cheap and fast win the race, so having the opportunity to explore the beauty of form and material, without the pressure of a deadline, and the ever-present budget reality has been our saviour as the financial crisis bites down hard on the apple isle.

Our Big O range of architectural door hardware is turned by Brad Latham. Brad is a sculptor and furniture designer, and luckily for us he brings a designers eye to the pieces he fabricates for us. He is, in my opinion, an absolute treasure and we thank our lucky stars that another fine furniture designer, Nick Randall, introduced us.

I don’t think I have ever truly appreciated the mark of the maker, until now. Brad’s craftsmanship is exquisite, crisp and precise. He lets the material speak, each small piece of salvaged timber is turned into a precious jewel, each with its own character ensuring that our hardware retains its beautiful handmade quality. That hand is distinctly Brad’s.

We have started to work on some more pieces with Brad, and besides enjoying the trip to his workshop immensely, it is also a joy to learn about the qualities of timber. We have learnt how we can manipulate it and how we can create a product that is affordable whilst still made by hand.  Meanwhile, Dean and I still collect our timber bits from bins across Hobart and very soon we will need our own shed to house our priceless finds. Some forage for food, we forage for wood.

I feel very lucky that we can weave this project through our days and I realise that it has been made possible largely due to our island home and the unique opportunities she offers. I must confess that I am an import, from even further afield than ‘the Mainland’. Tasmania is the first place I have chosen to make my home, up until now homes have just happened through the choice of others. I would find it very difficult to leave this beautiful place. I am fascinated by how this place makes its mark on us and how it can form us. In our case, I know that we would never have embarked on this design journey if we had lived anywhere else.

I love how, in Tasmania, you can try your hand at anything. We are remote and isolated (although the internet has changed this for us quite a bit over the last decade or so) and sometimes we just have to work with what we have. It is a pioneering attitude that fits well with an island of friendly and creative, people. If you don’t have it, just make it. Everyone has a mate who can help you out, who can get you this and organise that. Ideas and connections are everywhere.

I have never lived in a place filled with so many familiar faces. You cannot go to the local Growers Market on Sundays without spending at least an hour saying hello to people you know, or are acquainted with. This amazing sense of community has certainly had an affect on me as a designer, not only by creating connections and facilitating collaborations (like our collaboration with Brad or with Jonathan), but also by giving me a deeper, personal (and often daily) connection with the people who occupy the spaces we design. I must say, I have a very different understanding of my role and responsibilities as a designer.

Time is another quality that our island offers its inhabitants. The pace of life affords us the time to think and create. Tasmania is certainly slower, and the pace is not to everyone’s liking. It suits us well.  We find that we are able to give our time, and likewise, others give of theirs, and projects such as these guest posts find a space in our lives.

This post is a collaboration between Architect Dean Baird, Interior Designer Karryn Dargie and Photographer Jonathan Wherrett. 

tasmanian conversations: ridgeline pottery / sidecar

Perched on a hill overlooking Pipeclay Lagoon and Frederick Henry Bay, is the home of Ben Richardson and his wife Peta. Better known as Ridgeline Pottery, this is the home and studio of one of Australia’s best potters.

Ben and Peta are passionate about this place called Tasmania and their work displays an intrinsic link to our island. Ben is a rare breed of potter that digs his own clays and gathers natural materials to produce an array of coloured glazes. He is regarded as a master of the wood fired kiln and has developed a deep understanding of this firing technique. It is this combination of skills and technique that makes him unique. But this isn’t only about Ben, it is also a story about a little bar called sidecar.

Sidecar is located on the Northern fringe of the Hobart City Centre. Envisaged as a complement to its big brother Garagistes, it occupies an impossibly small space that had lain vacant for many years. The new space is intimate, warm, beautifully illuminated, and exquisitely detailed. It is without doubt the best small venue in Tasmania. As with Garagistes a strong emphasis is placed on exceptional food, wine and attention to detail.

When stepping into Sidecar you are confronted with an enormous communal table, which presents as an island within the space. It is upon its steel clad surface that activity revolves. Wine is poured, food is prepared, plated and both are rapidly devoured. The preparation and plating of food is like a ritual undertaken by skilled artisans. Whilst engaged in conversation you find your eyes wandering to watch the performance.

So what is the link between Sidecar and Ridgeline Pottery? The link is the surface upon which the food is presented, an exquisite range of custom stoneware developed by Ben and Peta in collaboration with co-owners Kirk Richardson, Luke Burgess and Katrina Birchmeier.

We recently met at Sidecar with Ben, Peta, and Kirk, to discuss food, the venue and pottery.

The food philosophy for Garagistes and subsequently Sidecar started out with an ethos of sourcing all food locally. As the business has expanded local produce has remained an important focus, along with a diverse and exciting menu. This sourcing of food is a time consuming passion, but one that is fundamental to producing a high quality product. With such an investment of energy, you can understand the desire would exist to present the fruits of this labour on the best possible surface. Employing a potter allowed the realisation of this desire, developing a product that would best complement the food offering. “Our menu consists largely of local produce that is taken from its natural state, and made into a good looking food product…..a handmade plate made of local materials made sense” Kirk explained.

Ben recounts prior to the opening of Garagistes, being approached by executive chef Luke Burgess about the possibility of providing custom tableware. “Luke had a firm idea on a colour range, level of shine, and the shape of the plates, which were to be circular”. Ben laughed as he relived his initial response, which was one of apprehension. He had never produced a glaze within the desired colourway, the timeframe was very short, and it would likely require an electric kiln. Of interest he expressed some reservations with the colours suggested, but chose to trust Luke’s better judgement. To satisfy his own curiosity, and to represent his translation of Luke’s brief, Ben developed a range of sample glazes. The depth of colour in the selected glaze is simply stunning.

The timeframe dictated that the initial product range was small, however as the popularity of Garagistes increased so did the range of stoneware. The subsequent opening of Sidecar has seen yet another incarnation of this beautiful range. Consisting of both plates and bowls, the range is earthy in colour, and substantial. They are not like fine china, they have mass. They are obviously handmade, displaying slight variations in shape and colour, which exude character and patina. Admiring a stack of walled bowls, I remarked to Ben that they were not all perfect, he corrected me by saying that ‘they were not all identical!’ This is an important distinction, for he believes that rather than achieving a clinical consistency, he strives for a controlled inconsistency which intensifies the handmade. Despite their substantial nature, they compliment the food rather than detract. They display a tonal variation in colour allowing different foods to be plated. This was achieved by developing a base coloured glaze, using locally sourced materials, which has the colour strength reduced to create the variation. The stoneware at Sidecar is similar to that of Garagistes, albeit smaller. Circular plates and bowls allow food to be plated that requires containment, as well as food that freely drapes over its edges. Strip plates allow a contrasting style of food presentation. All shapes are seductive with the form harmonising seamlessly with the style of food offered.

The surface of each object has a mottled and almost pitted appearance. This variation is a natural characteristic of the glaze developed for these works and result from the electric kiln process. Firing in an electric kiln creates a far different result than Ben’s favoured wood firing process. The colour saturation and consistency of finish is far more even. They are certainly a point of difference, and their inclusion enriches and intensifies the experience.

Near the end of our time at Sidecar, Ben concluded by saying he believed that “the subsequent popularity of this work is a result of the creativity in which the food is plated.” This harks back to his belief that pottery items should be ‘simply made, beautiful and totally useful’. He has a strong dislike for pottery presented purely for the purpose of ornamentation. Both Ben and Peta spoke openly of the belief that beautifully designed objects have a profound impact when utilised during times of pause and reflection, such as the dinnerware we use when sharing a meal. Seeing the stoneware used in the manner for which it was intended, enjoyed by a wide cross section of people, must be a deeply satisfying experience for both of them. Whilst I agree that the composition of plate and food was harmonious, it would be doing a disservice to the pottery to say it relies on the food. Yes they look best when filled with food, but they also look pretty good empty. The stoneware is in its own right a beautiful collection of objects. When located within arms reach, you want to touch them, pick them up. Kirk remarked that people who eat at the restaurant regularly turn the plates and bowls upside down to establish the identity of the maker. I myself ( Dean ) am guilty of this!

As we wrapped up our meeting, service was beginning. It seemed only appropriate to order a selection of food, and enjoy a glass of wine.

We must thank Ben, Peta, and Kirk for their generosity in providing us with this glimpse into their world.

This post is a collaboration between Architect Dean Baird, Interior Designer Karryn Dargie and Photographer Jonathan Wherrett. 

tasmanian conversations: natalie holtsbaum

When Ella initially invited us to produce a guest post she suggested that we present our own work. We decided that developing a series on Tasmanian designers, from various disciplines, was far more interesting.

We (Dean and Karryn) run an architectural + interior design studio, Interia, from a coastal shack about 40 minutes South East of Hobart. We also produce a range of architectural hardware.

For this series we decided to collaborate with our friend, photographer Jonathan Wherrett, to document a mere moment in the lives of a group of Tasmanian designers and makers, from various disciplines, with the aim of exploring, in a small way, how this fair isle weaves her magic through us all.

We met with Natalie Holtsbaum earlier this week on a grey, wet, cold and windy Tasmanian spring afternoon. She spoke to us about her recent work, her current projects, her studio and the connection she has with the island.

Natalie graduated from RMIT with a BA in Gold and Silversmithing. Her recent work has made a very interesting departure from traditional wearable jewellery to the realm of functional object, rich with meaning and symbolism.

About 5 years ago, Natalie and I (Karryn) shared a conversation over pregnant bellies. Natalie told me of her fascination with the ideas of heirlooms. Recently, she posted an image on Facebook of a series of objects she had created as part of a private commission. The Gynoflowers (a set of 50 custom utensils) struck a cord for me and I absolutely love the connection between sex, new life, death and the passing on of an heirloom to a life created. The Gynoflowers were commissioned for a feast.

“Social theory, human behaviour, history, tradition and information that requires delving into almost forgotten spaces, is where my research and thoughts wander. The pieces I make are a culmination of these notions along with the compelling need to capture a facet of our contemporary behaviour within an object that has the ability to transcend our time.”

The Honey Spoon is a further development of these ideas, adding another dimension of male and female equality. The symbolism of the honey, the sensuous shapes and the delicious weathered quality of the 24 carat gold is intoxicating. The Honey Spoon earned Natalie the 2012 RMIT Alumni Award proving that most of us find sex a very good thing.

“Since Ancient Egyptian times, Bee shamans have continued to practice a tradition that believes the honey-bee and the hive hold an alchemical-sexual formula.  Known as The Serpent Flight of The Honeybee, this ceremonial and symbolic belief is based on strengthening the connection between man, nature and fertility.

Within this tradition women and men are considered to be of equal metaphysical status, with the emphasis on co-empowerment rather than co-dependency. Bees, sex, symbiosis, connection with nature, semiotics and opulence are all considerations for the inspiration of this honey spoon. “

Natalie, her husband Joe and their daughter, Scarlett, were due to leave immediately after our conversation for 2 weeks on the east coast of the island, first stop a stone cottage on the beach with an open fire. She spoke about how happy she was that it had rained and how she was looking forward to winding down the window and smelling Tasmania as they drove through the dark of evening.

I asked her if, and how, she was inspired/ influenced/ affected by the Tasmanian landscape. She spoke of being inspired by a sense of timelessness against an ancient landscape. “This place, Tasmania, influences my work with it's scale and pace. Having time to investigate issues beyond the daily grind allows pieces such as these to surface.”

Natalie is currently the Craft Curator for the Mona Markets (MoMa), due to start again on Saturday December 15^th 2012. She is also working on projects for the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery and has been involved in a number of performance design projects including costume design for IHOS Opera’s, “The Barbarians” which was commissioned by MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) for this year’s MOMA FOMA.

It would be fair to say Tasmania has bred a generation of resourceful and ingenious designers, creating and turning their hands, and eyes, to more than one facet of the industry.

This post is a collaboration between architect Dean Baird and interior designer Karryn Dargie, both of Interia. Photographs of Natalie and the studio by Jonathan Wherrett for Pages from my moleskine. Photographs of Gynoflowers + Honey Spoon by Peter Whyte (bottom two images).

weekend project: lacework

Today's weekend project is brought to you by my lovely friend, Tarryn. You may remember her from this interiors project which I blogged about a while back. Tarryn's passion for making has fueled my own interest so I'm very excited to share a few of her pieces here today.

These necklaces are a collage of remnants, left over pieces and fragments. It was important to Tarryn that the private history of each piece was not erased or washed out in their assembly. By piecing these disparate materials together, she added an additional layer. She threaded into the existing structure, tracing previous hands movements, yet making a new mark.

She was particularly interested in the use of vintage lace. The intention was to maintain a sense of veiling and layering of ideas without reducing it to a two dimensional or flattened piece. 

Tarryn describes these as "very much a loose experiment with clumsy, rudimentary, expressed connections." Well, that's Tarryn's version of clumsy anyway. She really takes the word meticulous to new heights.

Photos by me. Text written together with Tarryn.

weekend project: wool necklace 2.0

After making my previous wool necklace, my sister started dropping not so subtle "make me one immediately" hints. Fortunately for all parties involved, I was keen to have another go.

For this one, I prepared 1.5m of knitted chord and used this "knarr" knotting tutorial. Once knitted, I dip dyed the back of the necklace using Rit powder dye in Pearl Grey. I then made black beads using polymer clay to fix the ends.

It seems I was a little off with the water to dye ratio because it turned out almost black. A happy accident though, since I'm a touch obsessed with black and white.

(not a) weekend project: knitting seat.

This is another one of mine but it is definitely not a weekend project. It was more so the result of eighty hours of labour, serious sweating, a few muttered profanities, numerous failed attempts with the drill and a sprinkling of splinters. I designed and built this in my final year of studying architecture as part of one of my favourite subjects, Timber Furniture Workshop.

I was recently asked to photograph it for an exhibition the University is holding to celebrate 20 years of running the workshop. I've been posting so much about handcraft and knitting, now seems like perfect timing to share it.

Entitled "Knit," the seat was designed to support my personal knitting habits. There is a wool dispenser compartment which keeps the wool untangled and helps me keep an even tension. Spare needles are stored just behind for those emergency moments. The seat is wide and low, allowing me to sit cross legged.

Knitting also informed the structure and design. The seat is made up of a series of interlocking, linear elements, gathering to create form.

the value of hand crafted.

Have you seen the Herriott Grace film that's infecting the blogosphere? I normally avoid blogging about things with such web presence, but this film tells a story which well and truly deserves to be spread.

Herriott Grace is an online store owned by a father-daughter partnership. Lance Herriott hand crafts tiny wooden treasures and his daugher Nikole, who lives 3400kms away, manages their online shop. The 27minute film talks about their relationship (which is altogether adorable), their attitudes to hand crafting and the full production process.

The film really made me appreciate how precious a handcrafted object really is. So much goes into each piece: the hunt for timber stumps of lopped trees, the design process as the wood reveals "what it wants to be," the hours upon hours spent turning and carving, the photographing, presentation and finally, the packaging and sending. This is no churn and burn process. One wooden spoon can take twenty hours to make.

Obsolescence is far too prevalent in this world. It's so exciting to see objects intended to be treasured for life, made with hands so full of passion.

(PS. The detailing on the underside of that candy dish gets me squirming with all sorts of geeky woodwork excitement.)

Images via Herriott Grace.

weekend project: wool necklace

It's well and truly winter now so the knitting needles have resurfaced from the depths of the supplies cupboard. I made this wool and clay necklace using a mix of knitting and knotting techniques. This was the first time I've ventured into the world of knotting and I tell you what, I really liked it there. Knotting is a bit like the linear version of origami, which I'm mildly obsessed with. (Remember this?) I have no idea why I have never explored knotting before.

The tools you need are pretty basic. I couldn't even remember how to cast on so there was heavy reliance on YouTube for this one:

 

1. Follow this tutorial to make the knitted chord. I used five stitches instead of three because I wanted a chunkier chord. I made about 1.8m worth of chord using 4mm wool. Keep about 10cm of loose wool length either side to help you thread through the tube later.

2. Follow this tutorial to make the central knot. The crew that put this video together have some serious spatial intelligence going on so please watch their other tutorials if you have any interest in knotting.  

It is a 7minute tutorial for one knot, but don't be put off, it's easy to follow and is hugely satisfying. I originally made the full knot (see below) but changed my mind, undid the whole necklace and untied the knot to around the 4min point in the video. I'm much happier with the proportions of the half knot.

3. Using the polymer clay, make a small, curved tube. I rolled mine around a 7mm knitting needle to give a smooth, even surface internally. Pop in the oven and cool. This gives the necklace a bit of weight and also stops the rope from unraveling. Plus I love the crispness of the white against the chartreuse.

4. Time to thread the chord through the clay tube. You need to get a bit MacGyver here with the loose ends as it gets pretty tight in the tube. You eventually want to feed the ends through either end of the tube and have about 20cm of loose chord coming out of either side. 

I threaded end A through the tube. I then overlapped ends A and B and twisted together a little to compress. I secured B to A by tying it on with the loose thread. I then pulled end A back the other way, carrying B with it.

5. Wrap the loose ends down the sides of the necklace to create the rope. Once you get to the knotted pendant, tie the two loose ends together at the back.

Weekend time very soon! Looking forward to my next project already.

weekend project: cement bowl.

I recently experimented with some cement mix using this mix which I bought from Bunnings. I created the form work with a takeaway noodle bowl and a balloon in the centre to create the depression.

Once dry, I waxed and burnished it using these instructions. I liked how lo-fi this process was and how much it emulates natural erosion process. The final finish is almost matte, with a low, satin sheen.

Where the concrete was sitting against the plastic bowl, it is really smooth and quite shiny, whereas the top is much more irregular and as a result, less reflective. Gravity didn't quite flatten the top surface, as much as I had hoped. I needed to work the top with the spoon to smooth out some of the irregularities.  The balloon also shifted around a little, meaning that the edge around the depression wasn't as crisp as I'd hoped. If I were to do it again, I'd probably fill it with liquid to keep it in place.

I'd like to try something long and cylindrical next time, so that the smooth face is more exposed. I'd also be interested in trying different cement pigments and layering these to create striations.

Rather than trying to smooth out the top surface, perhaps next time I'll be more intentional about the irregularity. Omar Abel's bronze bowls are a great precedent of exploiting the irregularities of a material and process.

ikea hacks.

I hope saying this doesn't get me de-registered as an architect, but I'm not completely adverse to Ikea. I'm excited by the idea of making reasonably decent, Scandinavian design accessible to the masses. The giants of early modernism were pushing a similar agenda, so it can't be such a bad thing, right?

The problem with Ikea (other than the fact that it's the world's scariest obstacle course on the weekend), is that all our houses start to become cookie-cutter Ikea catalogues. There comes a time when you reach Expedit-shelf-saturation and you feel you can't look at another repeato Ikea living room again.

Enter, these artful Ikea hacks which transform mass produced pieces into something more bespoke. Some of these are truly inventive, using Ikea pieces in unexpected ways and facilitating new ways of using the product. Admittedly, they don't all re-invent the wheel but in my opinion, they are all aesthetically successful and provide unique and affordable furniture solutions.

Image credits from top:
1. Vika Lerberg legs with top sourced elsewhere by Weekday Carnival.
2. Painted Prant storage boxes, clamped together with butterfly clips to create a storage wall. Image via Livet Hemma. I don't like to play favourites, but...
3. Expedit shelves hacked by Regina.  Regina's solution to storage in her compact apartment was to place the Expedit on wheels and create a series of roll out compactus units. So clever. Images via her blog.
4. Ikea Vika Lerberg trestle legs with pine boards. One board painted black. Image via Remodelista.
5. Byholma basket dipped in white paint. Full DIY tutorial found here.