My Turn

I found a perfect rejoinder to my question of whether beauty is enough. It is a poem by Mary Oliver, from her 2005 collection Why I Wake Early.

The Swan 

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air—
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music—like the rain pelting the trees—like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds—
A white cross streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

—Mary Oliver, from Why I Wake Early (2005)

And there is this quote from an interview with her: “I believe art is utterly important. It is one of the things that could save us.”

What a trip the last week has been. Turn, turn, turn. Even Thursday night, at midnight on the last night before having our work photographed and delivering it to the Wood Turning Center, Jean-François was turning one more wall piece while Siegfried and I cataloged and prepped our pieces. Friday morning, Sean was touching up pieces while packing his work up.

Friday was a long day at the photographer’s studio. John Carlano photographed everything, and we are talking about a huge quantity of work, especially from Jean-François and Sean. I counted at least 46 pieces from Jean-François, including 10 wall hangings and 6 cement bowls, and 39 from Sean. I can’t count Siegfried’s, because many of his involve multiple pieces and I don’t know what the combinations are. Divided as my time was and as slow as I am, I have 15 new pieces—of which, I will say, I am pretty proud.

Saturday, Vince Romaniello filmed Lesya dancing with Sean’s piece, my piece, and Peter’s chainsawn bench. The bench dance involved the four of us turners interacting with the bench (under Lesya’s command) as well. The film will be showing at the opening and, I assume, throughout the exhibition.

All the work is at the Wood Turning Center now. It has all been professionally photographed. I think the cataloging is done. The exhibit designer comes today to lay it all out. The work will be installed, labels will be printed and placed, and Friday night, the whole shebang will be unveiled.

Meanwhile, Sean was back at the workbench the instant he was free from other duties. Jean-François and Siegfried have also been back at it. Everyone is busy making gifts, except me. I have not been able to work since finalizing my pieces, and I had to push hard to manage that, because since last Monday, July 23, I have been battling vertigo. The world keeps tilting on its axis, and I have been working hard just to stay upright. I stagger about like an old drunk, sitting or leaning as much as possible, even napping on the floor of Jane’s office when it gets too bad. I’m trapped in my own Hitchcock movie. Where is Kim Novak (or Barbara Bel Geddes, for that matter) when you need her?

We worked.

Don’t expect much in the way of posts for the next few days. Our deadline for turning in work for the final exhibition is this Friday, so all we will be doing until then is working, and for me at this point, that means turning, not blogging.

Here are a few photos from the last couple of days, just to try to keep you current.

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We are really in production mode now. Except for a brief meeting with Albert and Jane about scheduling and shop rules, we all just worked. I wish I were as fast as these guys, but I gave up trying to keep up long ago.

Jean-François whipped through his spalted ash bowls and is doing more Chinese elm bowls. He tried texturing them with an electric chainsaw, but the effect once the texture is wire-brushed is not much different from what he has done with an Arbortech—not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Sean has made a few pieces in this form, appealing in its simplicity and very versatile. Check out the “carved” motif on the face of the first piece. Those are bug holes, guys. I have never seen them form a pattern like this. Let’s hope some of these bugs survived to pass on their genes to other wood borers.

Here is another piece in the same form. You can see the other side of it in the next photo, along with the next incarnation of one of the pieces shown in yesterday’s post.

And here is a new piece in that form being started on the lathe. A simple block, a simple form, but with oh-so-many possibilities.

Siegfried was busy with the chainsaw for a long time today, cutting up a large log of what we think is silver maple. Then one minute, I was holding the door for him as he came in carrying an armload of cut blocks; the next, he had this array of roughed-out vessels sitting on his workbench. Check out the figure in some of these pieces.

Siegfried wanted to be sure that I got a good shot of the lovely shavings he is getting from this wood. Mmm. Maybe I’ll steal a little tomorrow.

I keep forgetting to take pictures of what I am doing, but I almost finished a large, flared cherry bowl today—and maybe I will go finish it now, before heading back to the dorm for bed. I will again be playing with the idea of cleaving as I carve its rim. And Jane brought me branches from her brushpile that I will use with the pear vessel I turned yesterday. Are you intrigued?

In case you are wondering about the toll this intensive experience is taking on us, know that Jean-François has been talking to his tool rest—and it answers him in French.

Lesya came in again today, both to carve more waves and to meet with Vince Romaniello, who will be filming her five dances for screening at the opening. She is coming in tomorrow to carve again. I think we might have an addict on our hands! After all, working with your hands is a different kind of dancing.

Siegfried finished (I think) his carved box elder vessel—at least, he finished the bottom of it on the lathe today.

He also finished the Cryptomeria bowl that cracked so badly, making flames where there was damage.

Jean-François and I finished the last of our broken-bowl series. For more control, instead of breaking the bowl, we cut it on a scroll saw. 

Here is what the final two vessels look like. The epoxy is still setting on the osage orange bowl in this photo.

Jean-François also started a new series of spalted ash bowls today.

Here is some of what Sean was working on today.

I finished the turning of a tall pear vessel and will carve the lip tomorrow. Interesting that I who have no elegance and no grace can yet create elegance and grace with this sturdy hands. I also cut a wedge from the natural-edge pear bowl I turned yesterday and am waiting to see what happens. And I started a large cherry bowl. No photos, though. Maybe tomorrow.

Altogether, another quiet, intensive work day—and that’s probably what you can expect from us until July 27, when we turn in work for the exhibition. I’ll do what I can to keep it interesting, but here is where the push begins.

Alas, I got no replies to my 4 a.m. cry in the wilderness this morning. Ah, well. Sigh.

Today was a fairly quiet, intensive work day. 

Lesya came in not to dance but to carve waves for Siegfried’s collaborative wave piece. Sadly, there were misunderstandings early on in the communication process for this collaboration, and Sean and Jean-François won’t be working on it. Happily, Peter did and Lesya is and I will and Elisabeth may. And in the end, the public also will, as the piece will be installed as an interactive work, with anyone free to arrange the wave forms as they like.

Siegfried continued carving his box elder vessel. He later found that mounting it on the lathe to carve let him see and control better what he was doing.

Sean worked on new and old pieces. The black in this one is not painted but ebony.

Jean-François and I began our collaboration, based on an idea I used in a previous work, of breaking and repairing vessels visibly. Here are the vessels we started with. Jean-François turned the Chinese elm and osage orange bowls; I turned the sycamore bowl (the smallest).

Breaking the piece takes a bit of will. We broke the sycamore bowl into just three pieces.

Jean-François hit the Chinese elm bowl squarely and got a complicated break, which made gluing it—using 5-minute epoxy with a working time of maybe 2 minutes—a real challenge. Adding acrylic paint to the epoxy for color decreases (maybe even halves) the working time, so I use 30-minute epoxy at home. The 5-minute version is what we had on hand here, though. (For anyone who wants to know more about coloring epoxy, I discuss the subject in an article called “Nulling Voids: Filling Cracks and Holes in Wood” that, along with other articles, is available on my website under “Other links.”)

We used red for the sycamore and black for the Chinese elm. I mixed the red from acrylic paints; the black we achieved by mixing in charcoal from burnt wood (which Jean-François happened to have in jar).

I like the way the interior of the sycamore bowl came out; the exterior needs some touchup, though.

This technique—this trope, really—is deeply meaningful for me (you can read a note about the backstory on this here, under “About the work”), and it is one I intend to explore in a series of works after I return home. Using it in this collaboration is a little odd for me—like choosing a subject like, say, “death” or “incest” for a poetic exercise—and I find myself holding back emotionally, treating the process as more of a technical exercise than an act of artmaking. I would like to talk with Jean-François about how he feels about this process—indeed, how he feels about artmaking in general. I have wanted to from the beginning—the chance to explore the subject with other artists is one reason I applied for the residency—but before now, I have felt stymied by the language barrier—even though Siegfried and I managed a deep conversation about it driving home from D.C. This now is an opportunity to explore the subject.

For me, turning is deeply emotional, not just an application of technique, and it is an act in which meaning is both intentional and discovered. For me, the aspect of meaning—not technical sophistication—is what makes turning an art and not just a craft. I can argue with myself about this, of course—is not craft about creating beauty and is not creating beauty meaning enough? Yes, yes—but I’ll put this statement out in hopes of eliciting conversation about it. Turners who regard yourselves as artists (any artists, really), what do you say? Have your objects meaning? Is the meaning intentional? Do you start with wanting to express something, or does the expression emerge through the work? How do you create? Have you something to say? Must an artist have something to say? Is it enough to create objects in which others find their own meaning? Is beauty enough? Do any of you care, or do you care only about the making?

I really must sleep now. Let me hear from you, readers.

Since I’ve been doing the blog, I often receive emails from strangers who are reading the blog but don’t feel comfortable making public comments. I received such an email today, and after I read it, I was idly looking at the sender’s name and noticed that the email address was from Hawaii. Hmm, I thought, didn’t I know a girl in junior high with the same name who had lived in Hawaii before and loved it? Could she have moved back to Hawaii later? No way, I thought. No, no possible way. I began to tremble. My mind was reeling.

I Googled her name. I couldn’t find a photo of her, but I found that she was of Scottish-Irish heritage, and that clicked. 

I composed a reply, thanking her for reading my blog, etc., and then asked if perhaps she might possibly have lived in Virginia as a teenager way back when. The answer came back in minutes: Oh man, Lynne!!!!!! I wondered what happened to you!!

We were thirteen years old, people. Thirty-seven—count them—years ago. I lived there for only five and a half months, and we didn’t even attend the same school. But, however briefly, we were close, and the memories stuck. We exchanged numbers and the phone rang and her voice was the same and she said mine was the same and I had the same laugh and I couldn’t stop laughing. And we’re both professional turners now and what a way to reconnect! I’m still smiling and shaking my head.

Bless Al Gore for inventing the Internet.

Here I am blogging about our day on the same day. Except for filling in some text, that means I’m caught up. Hallelujah!

We rearranged the shop today. Or, rather, mostly Jean-François and Sean rearranged the shop, changing spots so that we can better take advantage of the natural light. Here is how the shop looks now. What you see when you walk in is still my area, but with the wall behind the workbench gone. Beyond me (to the right in the photo) is now Jean-François’s work area.

Looking more to the right, you see this. The bench with our shared tools is behind the post.

Here is a closer view of Jean-François’s new work area. He gets direct light from the window on his work when he is turning outboard.

Looking farther right, you see Siegfried’s corner. We cleared space in the back area for Lesya to dance in on community day. Siegfried may move his lathe back into that space after Lesya leaves us this week.

And, finally, as you look all the way right, across from my area and behind the entryway wall is Sean’s new work area.

Because she was ill most of last week, Lesya is still with us this week. She is developing dances for one piece from each of us, and Vince Romaniello, the videographer from last year’s ITE, will be filming her for screening at the opening, which she cannot attend. She will also help carve and texture some of the waves for the wave collaboration.

Siegfried, whose work I have neglected in recent days, has started the carving and texturing. I will do some carving and maybe some coloring later. Elisabeth may come by and do some too. (Are you reading this, Elisabeth?)

Here are some of the other pieces I’ve failed to adequately document recently. Siegfried’s collaboration with Peter has two deep, thin-walled box elder bowls suspended on cables in a concrete-and-walnut structure. The cable on the left bows out, so the bowl leans out of the structure. The concrete still needs to be sealed, but otherwise this piece is done.

Here is Siegfried’s thin-walled concrete bowl. Antique-brown wax has been applied to the surface.

 Jean-François’s thin-walled cement bowl is quite different.

Jean-François took these pictures of his three-bowl Chinese elm series while I closed in on the tail of the blog.

Sean has been productive recently too. These are the latest incarnations of familiar pieces.

These are some pieces I hadn’t seen before.

Now that I’m catching up on the blog, I get to turn too! Here is a small barkless-natural-edge sycamore bowl that I began during community day. I have pierced tiny holes near the rim. I may do more after I sit with it a bit.

This is a very simple new bowl I turned all but the base of today. Jean-François and I will use it in a collaboration.

Peter and Elisabeth left us yesterday.

Here’s a look at some of the breakthrough work Peter has done during the ITE. First the wearable line (and a couple of wall pieces). Judging from the response to these pieces, Peter will be able to sell all he chooses to make. If you want one, you had better make it to the preview show August 3.

Cast cement water bottles. What was he trying to say by leaving them capless? (In truth, these are pretty cool. The cement actually feels like plastic.)

You’ve seen this piece in the blog before, but I think he decided to make it horizontal instead. Again, these are forms Peter has used to cast pieces for his furniture. The concrete darkens the form wherever it contacts it.

Peter had time for a last lunch with Siegfried and me before he managed to get packed up and on the road.

Elisabeth, on the other hand, just came in to say goodbye and sign her bowl, her first turned work, a mortar made of pear.

And saddest of all . . . Hilary’s cookies are all gone.

Thank you, Hilary, for hearing—and answering—our silent prayer in our hour of need.

We all went to Albert and Tina’s for dinner after community day. Everyone was a little punchy after our long day, and it was nice to relax together. In truth, I was focused on dinner and hadn’t even thought about the collection we would be seeing. Doh. Of course, they would have their pick of work from practically any wood artist in the world. It’s a good thing I downloaded photos from community day and recharged my camera in between, or I would have been kicking myself and begging for a return visit. 

Albert tried to get us to guess what artist made the print above the mantel, and we came up dry. Can any of you guess? Robyn Horn. Yes, that Robyn Horn.

I think the name of this ceramic artist is Siminski, but I’ll have to verify it. And the piece of furniture it’s displayed on is by some guy I just recently heard of—Peter Harrison, I think his name is—back in the days when he still occasionally turned.

We had a finger-lickin’ dinner of barbecued ribs and chicken, libations, and good cheer.

And then we went upstairs and looked at more work. These are the two “Japanese” bowls Albert and Tina brought back from AAW this year. The bowl on the left is by Michael Werner; the one on the right, by Merryll Saylan.

I so want a television stand like this one . . .

Albert modeled this collapsible helmet for us.

And when we went down to dessert, we slipped gifts onto their plates: a necklace and a bolo tie, both made by Peter and Jean-François.

Community day began with a little dance from Jean-François, perhaps shaking out the jitters before the crowd arrived.

The event seemed to attract a good crowd of interested visitors. ’Round about noon, the shop was downright crowded. People watched us work, asked questions, looked at our work, and generally seemed to enjoy meeting us. The lunch catered by Paolo’s was pretty good too. 

A few people even wanted to talk with Peter and Elisabeth.

After lunch, I gave a private lesson in sanding to Elisabeth’s daughter Gianna.

And throughout the day, Lesya danced, first (and several times) with Sean’s piece, for which she had prepared.

And then, spontaneously, with mine. I was moved.

After everyone had gone, we did a little spontaneous celebrating.

Elisabeth and I helped Siegfried finalize the position of his vessels in his collaborative piece with Peter, which inspired Elisabeth to dance.

And Jean-François worked a little too, turning and decorating wood elements for Peter’s cable-and-wood jewelry line.

Afterward, we all went to Albert and Tina’s house for dinner. That will be a long entry with a lot of photos, so it will have to wait for daylight.

Siegfried had cast a thin cement bowl with Peter the previous day, using Styrofoam for the form and cement fortified with acrylic “milk,” and it was ready to be opened. Peter used lacquer thinner to dissolve the Styrofoam. It doesn’t dissolve it cleanly, as I had expected; it makes quite a sticky goo, so be prepared if you try this at home. I need to remember to photograph and post the finished bowl. As you can see from the final photo in this sequence, it is nice and thin.

Having established an exterior shape she was pleased with, Elisabeth progressed to hollowing her bowl, which will be a mortar that she plans to use in her own kitchen.

Jean-François turned a Styrofoam form for his own thin cement bowl, of a conical shape.

The following day, Saturday, was to be community day, with the shop open to visitors, so we stopped at around 3 p.m. to meet and plan our open-shop activities. Jean-François cleaned himself up a little for the meeting.

Siegfried brought a cheesecake to grease the discussion.

We decided to each do our own thing and let questions and the interests of visitors determine the flow of our activities. After the meeting, we took a few hours to clean the shop up, shoveling and sweeping shavings, clearing space for Lesya to dance in, tidying up our benches, etc. And Tina came with Jessica from the Wood Turning Center to deliver beverages, books, and T shirts in preparation for the next day. 

I finally burned the shavings out of my cement experiment. The outer shape didn’t work out, but I like the interior. 

Jean-François wasn’t quite fully back on his feet yet, but that didn’t stop him from turning. He continued work on his Chinese elm bowls.

Peter opened one face of his poured form to see how it was setting. (This photo was taken before he opened it.)

Mark Sfirri came by for a visit and also showed us two wonderful slide presentations: one on the Canadian turner Stephen Hogbin, the other on Wharton Esherick.

While everyone else was out of the shop for lunch, Jane and I decided that, with one face removed, Peter’s poured concrete form looked like a fireplace. We decided to light a fire in it and put some art on the mantel.

Jane caught me posing badly.

And when the group came back from lunch, almost everyone wanted to pose for a portrait.

Afterward, Elisabeth continued her turning lessons with me. I’ve decided to hire her as my stunt double.

I have neglected Siegfried over the last couple of days and don’t have photos, but today he turned Styroform forms and poured a thin cement bowl with Peter, and he has been finishing the vessels for his collaborative piece with Peter. 

Despite the fun of the fireplace, I badly needed to blow off steam this night, so I had a riotous night out with Jane and Co. in Old City, at the end of which I purchased the lovely glasses you have already seen. Too much blah blah blog and not enough play can make Lynne a very tense girl.

After we returned from our visit to the Esherick Museum and Brad Smith, we were eager to get to work. The first order of business was opening Jane’s form to see how her experimental concrete table leg came out. Check out the nice wood grain pattern left by the plywood form.

Jean-François set about screening the red dirt he collected at Brad Smith’s.

 Sean returned to carving.

Jean-François then began to exact his revenge on the Chinese elm log that broke his toe. He turned it,

textured it on multiple centers, then burned it.

I caught Peter (“I don’t turn anymore”) on the lathe, where he was turning elements to use in casting a base for his collaboration with Siegfried. Below, he is positioning the turned elements on part of the form, then assembling the form. The turned elements will allow cables to be attached after the concrete has set.

Peter used threaded rod for reinforcement inside the form, attaching them to the turned elements and to vertical rods in the uprights.

On the way back from the Esherick Museum, we stopped by the studio of a furniture maker that Peter knows, Brad Smith, of Bradford Woodworking. He makes furniture from turned axe handles, croquet mallet handles, pitchforks, and more, and he has two 100-year-old-plus lathes to do his turning.

This belt-driven lathe duplicates the form installed in the foreground. By using a set of dado blades as the cutter, Brad gets the ridge pattern characteristic of the axe handles he uses in his furniture.

As we were preparing to leave Brad’s place, Jean-François noticed the red dirt bared by an excavator and collected some to try in a finish.

We visited the Wharton Esherick Museum in Paoli, PA, on Wednesday. If you don’t know who Wharton Esherick, “Dean of American Craftsmen,” is, get thee to Google and learn all you can. I’m about out of words, so (for now at least) I’m going to leave it to you to find out about the images shown below.

The beams for the roof of the garage shown below were badly warped, so instead of scrapping them or trying to straighten them, he split them and used the curve in forming the roof.

After the tour, we had a lovely lunch with Rob Leonard, the museum director, and Paul, our guide, out on the deck. Paul had to leave and, no doubt out of habit, locked the deck door behind him, leaving us stranded out on the deck. Rob was ready to leap to our rescue, but even six-foot-five Peter balked at the drop to the stairs below. Fortunately, reason prevailed, and Rob had Elisabeth use her cell phone to call Esherick’s daughter and son-in-law, who live on the property, to come release us.

That’s Rob Leonard in the back row behind Siegfried.

This was our one day back in the shop between trips, and it was a long one.

As I noted in a previous post, Elisabeth and Lesya both got turning lessons, Elisabeth from Siegfried first, and both of them from me later (with good advice from Jean-François). I didn’t get to photograph Lesya turning, because I was busy teaching her, but she managed to play around a little with beads and coves.

Elisabeth also just spent some time with us individually and collectively and got to know each of us a little more.

Lesya chose one piece from Sean (what I’ve been calling “the mascot”) and my multiaxis cherry bowl as focal points from which to begin developing dances. I took multiple photos of the two pieces and printed them out for her to take with her.

Jean-François, who is unable to stand for long periods and so not yet able to turn, experimented with new finishes involving sand and gesso and other various coatings.

Siegfried got the vacuum chuck up and running with a foot switch he had his wife send him from home, and he worked on finishing the large vessels he turned first. Sean continued to carve various pieces. Peter worked on building a form for a collaborative piece with Siegfried. He also helped Jane develop and pour a form for a table she is making (we get everyone working here). I worked on a new honey locust bowl with a textured exterior and helped Jane a little (mostly as supervisor) with her table.

Text to come.

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After our visit to Mark Sfirri’s and David Ellsworth’s studios, we went back to the shop to meet with Albert and Tina and to meet Lesya Popil, our dancer, for the first time. Left to right, we are: Sean, Albert, Elisabeth, Siegfried, me, Peter, and Lesya. Tina took the photo. Jean-François was back at the dorm nursing his broken toe.

We spent a little time individually acquainting Elisabeth and Lesya with our work, then Albert and Tina took us out to dinner at a diner near the airport (the name escapes me at the moment).

Text to come.

Mark has a Oneway with two bed extensions, allowing him to turn pieces up to 13 feet long. The farthest extension runs under the table in the background.

Mark does a lot of off-center and inside-out turning. Here is a sample he has turned with the two halves still joined. For those who don’t know, inside-out turning involves joining two pieces of wood, turning them, separating them, reversing them by putting the two outside faces together, rejoining the pieces, and turning them again. Mark further complicates the shape by offsetting the centers he uses to turn each face.

Mark is also well known for turning pieces that appear to be bent. This is an example of the blank he uses to turn such shapes, next to the kind of shape it will yield. The trick is to cut the blank and mount it as shown in the second photo below.

Mark keeps on hand a lot of samples to help him recreate forms.

Mark showed us how he uses a mirror to simulate the absent opposite leg of a model for a piece of furniture.

Mark has many beautiful turned and other wood art works in his home, some his own work, others by fellow turners and furniture makers.

The highlight of our visit was a fruit salad Mark made for us, a creation for which he seems to be known. He told us that one year he had a card made with a photo of such a salad (but even more elaborate), clearly identified as a “kitchen creation,” and sent it out. The first five or so recipients called him asking him about the availability of the piece, assuming it was wood! He says he wishes he could create a piece that looked so realistic!

The salad was very refreshing, perfect for a steamy summer day. Peter, of course, couldn’t resist playing with his plate.

Peter took these pictures when he accompanied Jean-François (“Jean Francis,” the E.R. personnel kept calling, but no one would respond) to the emergency room. To read the captions, just hover the mouse over each photo. 

Well, I am doing my best to catch up, but I suspect it will take me a few days, especially because tomorrow we need to prepare for an open house at the woodshop on Saturday, when anyone who wants to can visit us at work and meet us and see what we have been doing. So I will be adding groups of photos from the past few days as I can; these may be interspersed with more-current photos, so posts may be jumping back and forth chronologically until I do get caught up. Please be patient and try to keep it all straight.

These past few days have been jam-packed, but I’m too tired to do a full post, so here is a brief summary. You’ll have to wait for photos.

We nearly lost another resident to the emergency room. Saturday evening, Jean-François narrowly survived a vicious attack from a member of his own clan. He was chainsawing an elm log (his last name, Delorme, means “of the elm” in French), and it split and fell on his foot and broke his left big toe. Peter escorted him to the emergency room, and Jean-François managed to limp out on crutches at around 3 a.m. He stayed behind Sunday on our trip to Mark Sfirri’s and David Ellsworth’s but recovered enough to come with us Monday to Wilmington, where he got to tour Winterthur in a wheelchair in chauffered comfort. He will have his revenge on the elm, though: he will turn a bowl from the log that attacked him.

Our visits to Mark’s and David’s studios were fun. As I noted in my brief last post, Elisabeth accompanied us. She enjoyed having the chance to talk directly with two eminent woodturners (unlike us ITErs) about their work, and we enjoyed seeing their studios, their work (past and present), and the work they have acquired from other turners, and talking with them, of course. We also enjoyed getting to know Elisabeth.

Sunday evening was our first chance to meet Lesya, who seems eager to explore this opportunity with us. She couldn’t accompany all the rest of us to dinner with Albert and Tina that night, but she made it back Tuesday to learn more about our work and to take a turn at the lathe, where she quickly advanced to trying to turn beads and coves.

Elisabeth also tried her hand at turning on Tuesday and proved a ready student, though she admits it is “harder than [she] thought.” We didn’t make it easy for her: no round stock for her, but a still-rough log. She toughed it out, though, till it began to feel comfortable.

But I’m skipping Monday, a long day full of pleasures. We began by visiting Winterthur, accompanied by Charles Hummel, curator emeritus and gentleman extraordinaire. There we got to visit the restored woodshop of the Dominys, a three-generation woodworking family from East Hampton, NY, whose shop dates back to the 1700s. (The shell has been recreated, but the contents are original.) Unlike other visitors to the museum, we were able to enter the shop and see up close the tools and equipment the Dominys used, including a pole lathe and a great wheel lathe. We even got to hold some of the hand tools. And we got to see their clock-making shop as well, which contained two other lathes, one not even six inches long, contained in a box (photos will come!). Get your hands on Charles Hummel’s book With Hammer in Hand: The Dominy Craftsmen of East Hampton, New York to see some of what we experienced. We also got a quick view of Gord Peteran’s exhibition there and managed to see some of the Winterthur period rooms.

After a pleasant lunch with Charlie, we paid a delightful visit to the home of collectors Neil and Susan Kaye. Again, pictures will come. In the meantime, let me just say again how unique each collection is, how each reflects the personalities of the collectors, and what a pleasure it is to witness the joy people take in living in such beauty. The Kayes have many, many wonderful pieces and entertaining stories.

We then were treated to the eyepopping collection of Bruce and Marina Kaiser. What a profusion of art their home contains! To do their collection justice, I will have to borrow some photographs from my fellow residents, as I had very little battery power left after Winterthur and the Kayes. There are pictures, however; have no fear. Bruce (Marina was out of town) then generously took us all (Albert and Tina and Charles Hummel rounded out our party) out to dinner.

Yesterday, we had a long day back in the shop. Elisabeth and Lesya both got turning lessons, Elisabeth from Siegfried first, and both of them from me later (with good advice from Jean-François). Elisabeth got to know everyone a little more. Lesya began working with a couple of our pieces to develop dance works: Sean’s “mascot” sculpture (for which I need to write down the proper title) and my multiaxis cherry bowl, so far. Jean-François, who is unable to stand for long periods and so not yet able to turn, experimented with new finishes involving sand and gesso and other various coatings. Siegfried got the vacuum chuck up and running with a foot switch he had his wife send him from home, and he worked on finishing the large vessels he turned first. Sean continued to carve various pieces. Peter worked on building a form for a collaborative piece with Siegfried. He also helped Jane develop and pour a form for a table she is making (we get everyone working here). I worked on a new honey locust bowl with a textured exterior and helped Jane a little (mostly as supervisor) with her table.

Today, we are off to the Wharton Esherick Museum with a stop afterward at the studio of furniture maker Brad Smith. Perhaps by tomorrow I can have some pictures for you to look at.

to say catch up with us tomorrow.

Yesterday, Elisabeth Agro, our resident scholar, joined us in a visit to the studios of Mark Sfirri and David Ellsworth. Upon our return, we all met with Albert and Tina, as well as with Lesya Popil, our dancer, to let Elisabeth and Lesya begin to get acquainted with the work we all have been doing.

Today, we head to Wilmington, DE, to visit the Winterthur Museum, and then the homes of collectors Neil and Susan Kaye and Bruce and Marina Kaiser. Stay tuned . . .