Inspiration

Back in 1995 we were part of the design team on Ohana, a restaurant with a Polynesian theme. It’s a fun story with lots of sculpture (!) made by us, but we’re saving that for another day.  Research for that project took me to the Oceania Collection at University of Pennsylvania’s Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology where I saw this coconut scraper.

You sit on that beautiful curved form, facing the extended arm with its metal scraper and shave flakes from a halved coconut. The beauty, utility and specific form of this tool stayed in memory and six years later became the inspiration for this tray.

Shortly after 9/11, I decided to take a weekend off from Luttmann Studios and make something unrelated to our workload - something where I could explore and make for me. I wasn’t seeing the coconut scraper when I started, but the aesthetic had distilled inside me over the years. I chose a beautiful slab of curly pear wood and lost myself in the shop. A couple profile lines on the side of the board that were cut out on the band saw marked the start. An angle grinder with a milling disc to rough out the shape followed, then sanding attachments, files and, in the end, hand sanding all the way to 800 grit before burnishing the wood with a grey Scotchbrite pad.

A weekend with no clock, just movement. By the end of the weekend there were two trays, both from super dense, highly figured wood to compete with the simple swoop. One retained its mass, one shed its mass looking like a gentle breeze could take it from the table, both reflected the swoop my mind had been carrying. Both brought a level of engagement with wood that I hadn't felt in a long time. My mind at ease with work took stock of the nature of then-current circumstances and how they differed from original intent. I was on a path to re-evaluating the future. I was thinking about gathering friends and about violins and cellos. Work-flow thoughts are allowed to be dreamlike, eh?

But to ground any readers I may have at the moment, Ohana led to the coconut scraper that nibbled at my subconscious that became the first piece of serveware I made. Ohana is the Polynesian word for family, the springboard for our serveware collection.

One more bit that reassures me about the loops and leaps of my mind. Shortly before Covid 19 entered our world, we had a visit (in person, sit-down) with Tenaya (aka Madame Fromage) and her man, Todd. Todd and I were sipping Three Wines Petite Syrah, looking at a couple pieces on display in Artifaqt Market. Todd pointed to the 1st design from the post-9/11 weekend and commented that he saw our work as folk art, in particular folk art with usefulness, utility. Most striking about Todd’s comment was that he connected us to indigenous cultures, past and present and the artistic qualities present in their serveware. He said nothing about coconut scrapers, but I felt good.