“Laura! L-A-U-R-A! There’s a PLETHORA of traffic cones!”
Gilbert the Alien – circa 1987
As I stood up and crumpled up the old tea towel, I’d been using to buff the freshly waxed seats, I had a vivid moment of recollection that made me laugh out loud. I surveyed the scene in front of me and could hear Gilberts words. But it wasn’t a plethora of traffic cones I saw; it was a great mass of dining chairs occupying every bit of space in the workshop. I laughed from a sense of relief as much as the recollection.
Late last year I’d received an email from Dara. He wrote – We’re going back to the Moon. A sense of excitement welled up as I quickly typed the reply. In a short while we were chatting on the phone. Moonhaven had been renewed for another season and he wanted more of my work for some of the sets. Initially he needed 12 dining chairs, and then as many individual pieces as I could make. The dining chairs were to sit round a huge table he had found. There was talk of sandblasters and other things to age and alter the look of the table, and could I make chairs to suit? Something along the lines of the ‘Abundance’ chairs I’d created sometime ago?
Absolutely!
When I got off the phone I was literally buzzing with excitement, and it had nothing to do with the early morning coffee. I had seen what was done with the previous pieces on the show and had been absolutely overjoyed. But before I could think about individual pieces, I had to make the 12 dining chairs. As I contemplated it all the excitement began to transform into a vague feeling of dread. There was a lot to do in a very short time; I would have to start immediately if I wanted to get the 12 done and have time to work on the individual pieces – there was literally not a moment to spare. So, I made a cup of tea, sat at the table and began to contemplate what I needed to do, and how I was going to do it.
The piece I had started work on that morning would have to be set aside for now.
The task was huge, and to a degree, quite complicated. What to do? Where to begin? Another cup of tea. Then start to simplify and reduce the task ahead into manageable stages. I would have to change the way I worked and go into full production line mode. I pulled on my coat and wellies and set off for the woods, to see what I could see and bring back what I needed. I spent many hours over a few days walking backwards and forwards, carrying great piles of freshly cut hazel, all the while thinking about the stages and the best way to make it all come to pass. I hardly noticed the rain and the cold.
When I had enough for all the legs, I set to work measuring and cutting, matching pieces for individual chairs, and preparing the wood. All were to be peeled of their bark, but not scrapped – this would result in the wood turning a dark brown as it dried rather than the usual creamy-white which I preferred. As the table they were to adorn would be artificially aged and worm the chairs would need to match, so I selected pieces for their irregularity and ‘gnarly’ appearance.
Relieved that I had enough for the legs I set to work gathering what was needed for the stretchers, so more walking to the woods and back, then repeat the preparation process. Soon the workshop was full of legs, stacks of front, side and back stretchers, sorted according to length and diameter.
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
I was running out of space to work, and it was too wet and cold to work outside. I was making good progress, but it was taking longer than I had anticipated, so I worked late into the night and started very early each morning. If I looked out, I could sometimes see the moon shining through the broken clouds, illuminating the garden. The silence of those early mornings was lovely, and I could mark the passing of time by the start of the dawn chorus, when it was time for a break for breakfast.
As it happened this all coincided with one of the coldest spells in many years. It was hard to step out into the freezing cold each morning to work, but after 10 minutes or so, I found myself taking off layers of clothing as I built momentum and stopped cursing the fact that my workshop was unheated.
Soon I had the back frames of 12 chairs stacked against the walls and I could see the mental forms of the chairs begin to take physical shape. When I had all the front frames ready, I matched them to the back frames and began to sort the stretchers to join them together. I’d entered the realm of flat-pack furniture – old-skool!
With each step I felt I was making good progress and that it was getting easier and easier, but then as I contemplated what was left to do the enormity of what still needed doing in the time available caused a fresh sense of unease to arise; this could only be dissipated by getting back out to the work in hand and pressing on. There was no time to take in the magic of the frozen cobwebs adorning the garden and stretching endlessly across the fields as they shimmered in the early morning sun.
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
I was working mechanically, with little time to take in the beauty all around me, or of the pieces of wood passing through my hands. I told myself there would be time for that when I started on the individual pieces. It was a consolation of sorts; sadly, it was short lived.
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
As I started to prepare the Yew for the seats I got wind of some bad news, if true. A quick email to Dara confirmed my worst fears. The production company was undergoing a restructuring and consequently had cancelled season two of Moonhaven.
BUGGER!
I was, to put it mildly, disappointed. Dara, however, was philosophical about it all.
The 12 chairs were paid for, so had to be finished and delivered, but the individual pieces that I was looking forward to working on, the thought and prospect that had sustained me in the freezing middle-of-the-night sessions in the workshop, would no longer be needed. Still, this was of small concern when I considered all the people affected by the cancellation.
Work went on unabated. Seats were prepared and chairs began to look like chairs, the workshop looked like a warehouse, space was at a premium, and working became increasingly tricky – I must have moved every chair tens of times as I tried to create enough space to do final fitting and finishing, I got to know each of them intimately, and, at last, began to see the beauty of the wood.
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
When I finally finished them, I took a long look at them, laughed at Gilbert, then stacked them carefully, so that I had space to resume work on the Willow chair that had been waiting patiently for my attention through all this. When they are finally collected and taken to whatever fate awaits them now, the workshop will feel massive, and I will never again complain about lack of space to work in.
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
Plethora – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Dining Chairs – Jason Robards – Hedgerow Crafts
We’d aimed for the Moon. Ultimately, we missed. But, as cannot be avoided when aiming for, and missing, the Moon, we landed amongst the stars. It has been a blast, a great experience, a wonderful journey that I am glad I embarked upon.
All that remains is to thank Dara for thinking of me, his good humour and the opportunities he has given me. I wish him, and all involved in Moonhaven, and coming projects, the very best for the future, and I hope our paths cross again.
Gilbert, wherever you are, thank you, most sincerely, for all the laughs.