From Heritage New Zealand, Autumn 2005

by Alice Shopland

In an age when everyone wants everything done faster, small but devoted groups of craftspeople are keeping the old, slow traditions alive. Meet five of them here

Guy Garey, blacksmith

It’s a common misconception that Portobello blacksmith Guy Garey is cheating by using a power hammer to help him shape metal. Actually, power-assisted forging has been around for a very long time. His 150-kilogram-rated pneumatic hammer has
a respectable family tree, featuring such predecessors as a steam hammer that was in use circa 1820.

Working metal successfully isn’t just a matter of shaping the outside, Guy says, you have to move the material all the way to the centre. “If it’s 25 millimetres thick, there’s no problem working it by hand. But, if it’s 200 millimetres thick, for something big, like
a ship’s anchor, then you’ve got a big problem!” Guy had dabbled in blacksmithing while a student in San Diego, as an antidote to the cerebral work of finishing an English literature degree. (Guy says he has noticed a trend developing in recent years whereby desk-bound intellectuals “want to get in and get their hands dirty, and actually make something”. One recent blacksmithery class he taught included four PhDs.) Fifteen years ago, he was inspired to get seriously involved.

Making “a complete hash of things” initially didn’t put him off. “Iron is a stubborn material, but you just have to be more stubborn than it is!”

His description of iron’s allure makes it sound like the uptight heroine meeting her square-jawed hero in a romance novel.
“It’s an inherently contradictory material because of its two extremes – it’s hard, unyielding and difficult, but it yields itself with the right application of force and understanding to the most intricate, graceful, sinuous lines.”

Although he’s largely self-taught, Guy (who has dual United States/New Zealand citizenship) acknowledges the advice and inspiration of his US-based mentor, architectural smith Mark Bokenkamp.

Blacksmithing is one of the few crafts to use a living tool – that is, fire – and Guy reckons that’s part of its fascination for worker and watcher alike. He has a constant stream of visitors to his forge at the Otago Peninsula Museum and Historical Society, and he was amazed that 1000 people turned up to the opening day at his new forge two years ago.

Guy works on a coal-fired forge, but most of the time he’s working in mild steel rather than wrought iron. Just as it’s
traditional for blacksmiths not to be completely reliant on their biceps to swing the hammers, steel has been their standard material for longer than most people think: since the mid-19th century, in fact, when steel became easily manufactured.

Guy makes industrial and artistic (or architectural) work. The latter makes up the majority of his output, and includes everything from railings, chandeliers, hinges and other door and window accessories to furniture itself.

You can see examples of his work at the Stone Store in Kerikeri and Pompallier House in Russell, as well as on the gates of the Globe Theatre in London. At Pompallier, he was making replica tools and says it was “a great detective game to figure out how they’d originally been made. The level of skill reached great heights in the old days, something we all aspire to now.”

Chestnut Tree Forge, Hatchery Road, Portobello, Dunedin.
Phone (03) 478 1133.

Heather Jennings, woodworker

By using traditional woodworking techniques, Heather Jennings achieves a quieter and less dusty work space for herself – and is able to work in harmony with her environmental beliefs. Heather trained as a conventional joiner in England in her mid-20s, but always loved working with hand tools. A course in traditional timber framing at the Centre for Alternative Technology in Wales provided her with new skills, including mortise and tenon joints, and working with green (unseasoned) timber.

Her dream, on returning home to New Zealand in 1998, was to be a self-employed furniture maker, using the traditional techniques. But, when she and her partner decided to live in a house truck and travel with a gypsy fair for a couple of years, that plan had to be amended for reasons of sheer space.

“So I built myself a pole lathe – a traditional foot operated woodturning lathe – and I started making kitchen woodware like spurtles, spoons and spatulas.”

While all of those were good for cash flow, it has been the spoons that really fascinate her, and she has become a spoon specialist.

She makes olive spoons with a little hole for draining off the oil, pouring ladles with spouts on both sides, scoops for caddies, love spoons and marriage spoons, using a mixture of turning on the pole lathe and carving.

Love spoons were traditionally given in Europe by a man to a woman he wished to court (hence, perhaps,“spooning”?). Marriage spoons are also traditional, comprising two identical spoons joined with a wooden chain.

Although Heather creates her own designs rather than copying traditional examples, she uses only time-honoured
techniques and hand tools, including spoon bit gouges, chisels, drawknives, chip carving knives, spokeshaves and cabinet scrapers.

She cuts all her own timber, and cuts it radially (that is, in wedges out from the centre rather than planks of even
thickness) because it’s stronger and less likely to split.

Heather loves to work with fruit and nut timbers, because their rich colours and dense grain make them perfect for fine work. Being in Otago means there’s a steady supply. “I only use wood which would otherwise be firewood, and I like woods from orchards because I know they’ll be replanted. Turning that old wood into something of lasting
value is very rewarding.”

It’s rewarding for those who watch her work, too. Unlike many modern manufacturing processes, this is quiet and safe enough to get close to.

“People are fascinated to see somebody actually making something, and they’re amazed that I can produce such fine work on my clumsy-looking pole lathe! Children love to see the shavings come flying off; some are absolutely open-mouthed!”

Studio and gallery at The Red Sheds at Oamaru Harbour.
Phone (021) 376 532, or visit www.studiohjp.co.nz.

David Bain, cooper

Don't ask David Bain why he chose to become a cooper – it was his mother’s idea.“In the 1960s,at age 15, you did not say, ‘No,’ to your mother. You did what you were told!”

To become an apprentice cooper in Scotland, you must have a blood relation in the trade, David says. He was
following in the footsteps of his late cooper father.

His mother would never have dreamed that his five year apprenticeship with Edinburgh brewery William Younger & Co would eventually lead to her son making hundreds of movie props and even a native American drum!

He moved here with his New Zealand-born wife in 1983. Since 1987, he has had a cooperage at Ferrymead Historic Park in Christchurch. Barrels are the stock in trade of the cooper. David makes them from French or American oak, ranging in size from two to 100 litres, mostly for vineyards.

But he’s also been involved in work for the Historic Places Trust and the film industry. For the restoration of Pompallier House, he made nail kegs, jets, buckets, quenching kegs, depilation vats and tannery vats.

“Pompallier was a major challenge for all concerned, because the original products had long since rotted away to
almost nothing. However, Fergus Clunie and his team somehow managed to piece the whole lot together and come up with some drawings for me. My biggest challenge was that I had to make the vats a perfect size to fit into some hole waiting in the North Island. My fear continued as we loaded them onto a truck, and I crossed my fingers that I had it right.” (He did: they were a perfect fit.)

He also made numerous items for the Stone Store at Kerikeri. And, for the three Lord of the Rings movies, he was commissioned to make more than 130 items, such as hobbit-sized washtubs, “all hand-made but also to scale”.

“For the first time, I found myself using a calculator to work out angles and sizes instead of just judging by eye.”

Since then he has also produced items for The Last Samurai, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and River Queen.

But, among the thousands of commissions he’s had over the years, the most unusual would have to be a ceremonial drum of American oak for the Dakota tribe of Native Americans at the personal request of a tribe member.

“At first, I thought I was on Candid Camera, but a second look at this six-foot-tall man with pigtails, craggy face and Indian beads told me it was no joke.”

With their business conducted, Dakota elder Black Elk sat and drank coffee with the cooper, describing his people and the movies he’d been in. David, who had grown up loving cowboy and Indian movies, felt “as if all my Christmases had come at once!”

The Cooperage is at Ferrymead Heritage Park, Ferrymead Park Drive, Christchurch, phone (03) 384 4585.

Bill Blair, woodworker

After years of soul-destroying work in slaughterhouses and on off-shore oil rigs, Bill Blair, of Oamaru, knew he wanted to “make good work” for himself – to earn his living doing something he’d do even if he didn’t need the money.

So, in 1997, uniting his love of trees, wood, sustainability and history, he began doing traditional woodwork. His working day is spent using devices such as a shave horse (a wooden, sit-down, foot-operated wood vice), draw knives, spokeshaves, various axes, adzes, hand drills, bench planes, chisels and gouges.

He loves to restore or “resuscitate” old handtools. With this vintage armoury, he makes hay rakes, pitchforks, besom (twig) brooms, grain shovels, and trugs (garden baskets). While the grain shovels and pitchforks are mostly bought for display by collectors, the rakes tend to live active lives.

"Metal rakes are mostly for cultivated soil; a wooden rake, with wider tines, works much better for grass, hay and leaves.”

And it’s a shame that the besom broom, made of birch twigs, has also largely fallen out of use, a victim of fashion, Bill says. He knows of a besom-maker in an historic French village who makes 3000 brooms a year for the council because it’s the most effective tool for sweeping the cobbles.

Bill also has a passion for reviving the use of tree species introduced in the 19th century, especially oak, ash, elm and
willow.

Bill is heavily involved in Oamaru’s heritage activities. He’s on the local Historic Places Trust committee, is involved in
preservation group Oamaru Whitestone Civic Trust, is an active member of the Oamaru Ordinary Cycle Club and of the local regiment of Alf ’s Imperial Army, the 8th Whitestone Grenadiers!

C/- PDC, Kakanui, phone (03) 439 5781

Mary-Rose Paynter, saddler

A chance encounter led Mary-Rose Paynter into saddlery.“I took a bridle, I think it was, to be repaired, and the saddler was very busy and told me how to repair it myself.”

She did repair it, and loved the work, which led to her doing a one-year course in 1990-1991 at guild college Cordwainers.

“There were other places in the UK I could have learned saddlery, but I chose Cordwainers because I wanted to learn
traditional handstitching techniques. I wanted to learn the correct way, and that’s how I work. It’s like driving around in a Roller rather than a Mini!”

In the days when horses were more common than cars, saddlery encompassed several different specialities, including
collar making, harness making (for driven horses), bridle work (for riding) and, of course, saddles.

These days, however, a saddler must be far more versatile. Now based in Oamaru, Mary-Rose repairs a wide variety of saddles, including many musterers’ stock saddles, all manner of riding tack and harness gear. Probably the only saddlery
repair she won’t tackle is anything beyond minor work on a western saddle.

“I was trained in the traditional English method; I have no training in the American western style of saddlery, which is
a totally different ball game.”

When it comes to making items from scratch, most saddlers have a specialist field, and Mary-Rose’s is strap work, which
includes bridles, head collars (or halters), girths, martingales (which run from the nose band to the girth, to stop the horse
throwing back its head) and breast plates.

All of her work is custom-made, to fit well and “look really beautiful” – especially important in the show ring.

“The bridles now available are very standardised andreally don’t fit any horse properly. A nice one will show off your horse’s head to best advantage.”

Rather than a sewing machine, Mary-Rose works with a range of awls and sturdy needles, the biggest and thickest being for collars. Cobblers’ awls make a round hole; saddlers’ awls make a diamond-shaped one, she says, and this sets the beginning of one stitch slightly apart from the end of the previous one.

Sourcing materials can be a challenge, particularly where they were mostly made for other, now largely defunct,
purposes. Bag hide, for example – a relatively thin leather that was embossed during tanning and made specifically for doctor’s bags – was perfect for girths but is now rarely available.

The range of threads is much narrower than in horsier days gone by. For tasks where safety is paramount, such as stitching stirrup leather or girth straps, Mary-Rose rolls her own heavy-duty thread, using the required number of strands of single strand Irish linen thread and finishing it with wax. It’s time-consuming, but extremely strong.

Contact: Mary-Rose Paynter, phone (03) 437 0800