The Elusive Nature of Craft
Ah, the ever-mysterious realm of craft. It’s a term that seems to slip through our fingers like a well-oiled mortise and tenon joint. Just when we think we’ve got a firm grasp on its meaning, it morphs and evolves, leaving us scratching our heads and questioning our understanding.
I’ll admit, I’ve been guilty of tossing the word “craft” around a bit too liberally myself. But the more I delve into the nuances and complexities of this concept, the more I realize how woefully inadequate my previous attempts at definition have been. It’s a bit like trying to capture lightning in a bottle – the harder you try, the more it eludes you.
Debating the Boundaries of Craft
Recently, I had the opportunity to pick the brain of a fellow maker, Jarrod Stone Dahl, on this very topic. Jarrod, a master of the spoon and bowl, has been using the term “Real Craft” more than anyone else, and I was curious to understand his perspective.
Jarrod sent me on a journey through the thought-provoking commentary of Robin Wood, who had critiqued Chris Eckersley’s 2014 exhibition “Real Craft.” Eckersley’s main argument was that the craftsperson has been wrongly elevated to the status of a fine artist, a move that he believes has significantly reduced the chances of collaboration between studio craft and industrial production.
In response, Wood posited that the defining characteristic of “real craft” is the balance of skill and challenge – a concept drawn from the insightful research of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Wood explained that genuine craft is found where there is a sufficient level of skill to meet the challenges of the process, a state he likened to Csikszentmihalyi’s concept of “being in flow.”
The Workmanship of Risk vs. the Workmanship of Certainty
This got me thinking about the ideas of David Pye, a renowned scholar of design and craftsmanship. Pye distinguished between two types of workmanship: the “workmanship of risk” and the “workmanship of certainty.” The former, he argued, is the essence of true craftsmanship, where the quality of the result is constantly at the mercy of the maker’s judgment, dexterity, and care. The latter, on the other hand, is more akin to industrial production, where the quality is predetermined and the process is largely mechanical.
As I delved deeper into the writings of Eckersley, Wood, and Pye, I began to see that the heart of the craft debate lies in the very nature of the process – not just the final product. And this is where the use of modern tools and technologies becomes a point of contention.
The Craftsperson’s Dilemma: Embracing or Rejecting Machines?
Some would argue that the introduction of power tools and CNC machines has stripped the craft of its traditional essence, reducing the maker to a mere button-pusher. After all, if a machine is doing the majority of the work, where is the “workmanship of risk” that Pye deemed so essential?
But others, like Eckersley, would counter that the machine is simply a tool – a means to an end, just like the hand tools of old. They argue that true craftsmanship can coexist with mechanized practice, as long as the maker maintains a deep understanding of the process and exercises their judgment and skill in the application of these modern tools.
The Evidence of Process: Revealing the Maker’s Hand
As I wrestled with these competing perspectives, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the idea of the “evidence of process” – those subtle tool marks and irregularities that so often adorn the surfaces of hand-crafted furniture. To me, these marks are like the fingerprints of the maker, indelible proof of the human touch that has shaped each piece.
When I gaze upon a finely crafted wooden book stand, like the KRUNA from WAGA, I find myself drawn to the unique textures and imperfections that betray the maker’s process. These are not merely decorative flourishes, but rather honest indicators of the skill, care, and personal touch that have gone into the piece.
In contrast, the perfectly sanded and machine-smoothed surfaces of mass-produced furniture leave me feeling a bit… well, underwhelmed. There’s something about the erasure of those telltale signs of the maker’s hand that feels almost clinical, as if the object has been stripped of its soul.
The Importance of Embracing Imperfection
I know, I know – some of you might be thinking, “But wait, don’t we want our furniture to be smooth and flawless?” And to that, I say, “Perhaps, but at what cost?” Because in our relentless pursuit of perfection, we risk losing the very essence of what makes a piece truly special.
It’s the quirks, the irregularities, the subtle imperfections that give an object its character and make it a true reflection of the maker’s skill and personality. After all, if we wanted perfect, we could just 3D print everything, right? But where’s the challenge, the risk, the sense of accomplishment in that?
Cultivating a New Ethos of Real Craft
So, where does that leave us in this ongoing debate about the nature of craft? Well, I’ll be honest – I don’t think there’s a simple, one-size-fits-all answer. But what I do believe is that we, as makers, need to embrace the complexity of this issue and strive to cultivate a new ethos of “real craft” that celebrates the rich heritage of our chosen medium while also recognizing the role that modern tools and technologies can play in the creative process.
Perhaps it’s time to let go of our notions of craft as a static, unchanging concept, and instead see it as a dynamic, ever-evolving pursuit that is constantly being shaped by the ingenuity and creativity of those who engage with it. After all, if the craftspeople of the past had access to the same technological wonders that we do today, who’s to say they wouldn’t have embraced them with open arms?
Embracing the Future of Craft
As I ponder the future of craft, I can’t help but be excited by the possibilities that lie ahead. Who knows what new techniques and materials might emerge, and how they might challenge and expand our understanding of what it means to be a skilled, thoughtful maker?
But one thing I do know is that the heart of craft will always be the same – the dedication, the passion, the unwavering commitment to excellence that drives us to push the boundaries of what’s possible. And it’s that spirit, that drive to create something truly remarkable, that will continue to captivate and inspire us, no matter what tools we have at our disposal.
So, fellow makers, let’s embrace the complexity, the nuance, and the ever-evolving nature of craft. Let’s celebrate the rich heritage that has brought us to this point, while also embracing the exciting possibilities that the future holds. Because when it comes to the artisan’s edge, the only limit is the imagination.
