Showing posts with label sculpture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sculpture. Show all posts

Monday, 14 October 2019

branching out with bits of wood - in which I try willow weaving

sheep and turnips at West Dean, Chichester

'Twas an autumn day when I headed west to West Dean College near Chichester, for an 'art break'.

Having spent the past three months unable to decide where to go and what to do with a week off (even nearly retired people need time off from whatever they normally do....), I hastily booked a course in small scale willow sculpture.

On a whim, you might say.

The whim that I wrote in my diary was that I fancied making a 'nest for words'.......

- a bookish flight of fancy....

I had forgotten that by the time I departed on my travels, and instead carried with me some random bits from the hedgerow and some stone pebbles that look like birds eggs.

I think I fancied myself as a sculptor.

I arrived late afternoon and just had time for a stroll in the gardens before classes began.

a line made by sheep

It was beautiful in the late autumn sun.


Apples and pears clung to the trees in the walled garden.

english apples


A feast of colourful gourds sat quietly in the greenhouse.



west dean gourds



The house was shrouded in plastic and scaffold. A new roof is happening.



west dean college and scaffolding

The gardens are a delight.



west dean garden


But I was here to work.

Hard work for fingers and thumbs.


learning the basics

Lengths of willow to be bent, twisted and cajoled into baskets, balls, wild animals and anything else that took our fancy.

It was not easy.


I kept reminding myself that I was here to get ideas and learn new skills, not to create a masterpiece.

Our tutor was the incredibly patient and perceptive Mary Butcher MBE.

She gently taught us a number of basic basketry techniques; random weave, scalloming and how to make twine from rush stems.




First we had to make a sphere by random weaving.

Each piece of willow had to be wrapped around a hammer handle in its entirety to make it more flexible.

For the first hour or so my sphere was a total mess, exploding from its orbit at every opportunity.



random weave at the stage where giving up seems a good option...



But with Mary's encouragement to keep going I eventually achieved a stable sphere.

What to do with it? 

I have no idea......  

willow sphere using random weave


Everyone's sphere had different characteristics.

My favourite this tight ball containing twigs and conkers.



autumnal willow container


After that we were encouraged to work on our own project.

Not so easy.

I made a sculpture with willow and grasses. Then ruined it by trimming the willow strands.

Into the bin it went.


Time for a nest. This required an open sphere.

loose ends to unravel. frustration station.


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The pebbles waited patiently.

Eventually they were rewarded with a soft mossy bed to lie in.

a nest for eggs


Time was running out. Others had made baskets with extraordinary neatness and patience.



in the basketry studio


I dabbled with another sculpture, made some twine, wrapped some rosemary with it

and then tied two twigs together with my newly acquired whipping skills.

I have to say that this gave me more pleasure than all of my other creations.

Keep it simple....



my twigs



I am never going to be a basket weaver,  I but might find a way to wrap stones and twigs just because I can......

and I did enjoy making my own twine.....


some of our creations.



I will leave you with some of Mary's beautiful work.

She really is a very good tutor.

Her positivity and patience allowed each individual to work in their own way. Nothing was deemed too difficult.

I was very lucky to experience a class with her.


'Bark weaving' by Mary Butcher





'willow scribble' by Mary Butcher






'when the boat comes in' by Mary Butcher



And next I am going to make a boat......



Monday, 9 May 2016

the new sea wall at camber sands.....in which I discover a plentiful supply of textures for my photography

sea wall © caroline fraser 2016


The new sea wall at camber Sands is almost finished.

Men in orange are putting finishing touches to the railings so that dogs and people don't fall off.

A building project costing millions of pounds is almost done.

Rocks from Norway are settled into their new home.

I have 1999 photos documenting the building process ready to make into the movie, the book and the t-shirt.

sea wall camber sands © caroline fraser

 Cyclists have space to ride alongside the dog walkers and the kite surfers.




sea wall camber sands © caroline fraser

Cones are few and far between.

Shiny new life rings are taking their place.

And a wrapped blue thing  awaits unveiling.


sea wall camber sands © caroline fraser



Children have a new place to play.



sea wall camber sands © caroline fraser


Grown ups have a new place to hide.




Charlie Rock is long gone, and his rocks are all tidy behind the wall.


charlie rock © caroline fraser

charlie's rocks



The surveyors have finished their calculations.





And the numbered pieces are all slotted into place.





The joins are joined.





The car park is large and fully equipped.


disabled parking


and footprints are preserved for posterity.





Helpful signs are up




And sculptures adorn the view across the marsh.




The concrete is smooth and tempting.

Textures and markings catch my eye ; they will be useful for composite images, but also as a record of how it all looks before wind, rain and sand take their toll.








The seagulls will also do their bit.








This wall could keep me busy for ever.







I mustn't let it keep me from the beach....

The view from the other side is quite stunning.


Camber Sands




Thursday, 2 October 2014

'you don't often get out for nowt' ……… the Duchess of Devonshire says 'goodbye'



I am up north………Derbyshire……….for a funeral.

The funeral is tomorrow, and I arrived a day early, so I put cameras in the car and made a journey to Chatsworth House, as I have fond memories of the fountains and countryside from a trip with my children 20 years ago.

I wanted to relive the views and take a walk after all that driving.

I packed my rucksack and set off across the fields, along the river.

I stopped to take a picture of the house in the distance.

The camera was dead.

Flat battery.

I walked back up to the car and changed cameras to a small one.

Back down the hill.

I stopped to take a picture again.

The camera was dead.

Flat battery.

I had driven for an hour to make photos, with two dead cameras. I was not impressed with myself.



Far across the fields were many cars and people wearing black.

I had gate crashed the wake for the Duchess of Devonshire. Quite unintentionally. The police man at the car park said'  a couple came here all the way from Australia  If only they had checked the website, as the house is closed today'.

I had not checked the website either. I had also come quite a long way. With two completely useless cameras.

I needed a walk, and I wandered on down he hill to see some action. I was wearing jeans and a vivid orange T-shirt. Not really appropriate attire for a funeral.

As I wandered towards the house, an elderly man stopped to let me know that he had been to the wake and had tea and cake. 'You don't often get out for nowt' said he. I didn't think I was likely to get anywhere near Charles and Camilla or the tea and cake.

I approached some guides at the entrance to the gardens and politely asked whether i could get anywhere near the sculptures that are currently adorning the grounds.

"just go in' they said. "everyone is welcome' .

"but I am  not really wearing the right clothes………"

" oh there's much worse than you in there'………..

Flattery will get you everywhere.

They were incredibly kind and friendly.

So I plucked up the courage to wander into the gardens amongst the local gentry folk in their funeral wear.

I got out my very old phone, and used it as my camera.

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old sculpture and new sculpture


Maro by Christopher le Brun

Chatsworth House





The gardens are not short of sculptures, some more appealing than others.





Most people today were more interested in drinking the champagne and catching a glimpse of royalty.

I overheard that there were 500 bottles of champagne left over.


vistas abound at Chatsworth

I inspected the floral tributes, listened to the band playing 'bare necessities' and other jolly tunes, and then headed home for tea.




floral tribute a la hen

Deborah was the last of the Mitford sisters, and held in very high regard locally.

I felt fortunate to have happened upon the last celebration of her life, which she lived so fully.

BBC report today