Histories of furniture design seldom delve in to the branch of the tree that began with the craft revival of the 1970s. Penny Sparks mentions the movement giving the solitary example of John Makepeace. After the arts and crafts period ran in to art nouveau the design mainstream became far more interested in the new materials and processes that the war had thrown up. Plywood, steel, plastics. The seperation of designers and makers became complete after the war and this way of working is predominant to this day. Small country workshops continued the idea of design from the bench that stretches back through time. In the 1970s, for a brief period, the idea of the designer maker became the mainstrream. There was a shift that saw middle class people choosing to work with their hands. A reactionary movement that tied in to hippy ideals, the first to voice serious environmental concerns, folk music were all in the mix. David Pyes professorship at the RCA produced a generation of students that made a name for themselves with help from the crafts council. Rupert Williamson, Fred Baier, Richard La Trobe Bateman. The work was unironic, well made, sincere. The focus changed toward the eighties. Post modernism with its irony and secondary meaning rendered the work irrelevant to contemporary thinking. The central trunk of design saw production furniture take center stage again. Next up came creative salvage. Then the millenial white minimalism that echoed the successful british art of the time. Michael Marriott, Mary Little, Ralph Ball. Indulgence in materials and making was out of fashion.
But seperate from this and largely at odds to contemporary design trends, the designer makers continued. Supported by the odd London show curated by Janice Blackburn, Cheltenham organised by Betty Norbury and a couple of galleries, makers grew in number. A handful of courses retained a belief in workmanship as a value in itself where makers from the seventies, unable to find a market big enough to support their aesthetic sensibilities, taught, passing on skills and supplementing their incomes from furniture. The market for this kind of work is tiny. The work is very expensive. David Pye had warned, back in 1969 in his seminal work, 'The Nature and Art of Workmanship' that the future of quality work may lay in the hands of the amatuer for he alone may be proof against amateurishness. Most buisnesses managed to develope by supporting themselves partly by oither means. Some lectured, some took on bread and butter work. Belief in what they were doing came from each other. At the anual Cheltenham exhibition they would meet up, show each other their work, walk round in pairs quietly dismissing those who didn't quite get it. And there are a lot of these. Some, inspired by the most labour intensive work and unconfident in themselves would parade flamboyant beasts. If unsure of your chair design, why mot try putting a huge carved whale fin on the back. If you feared your cabinet might go quietly unnoticed, why not sandwich it twixt two carved elephant tusks.
Yes, it is no surprise that the casual visitor, perhaps someone more familiar with the ice cool london design scene where being caught in the wrong shoes incurs a lifetimes ostrasism, saw an odd affair. How many, myself included have felt that their little burst of flamboyance might brighten up a dull show only to find that their extremism appears the height of modesty amongst the sea of egos shouting for attention. To the outsider the work looks like a big fat gypsy wedding. A competition of extremes. Yet extremes within a tight framework of values. Like suited politicians break dancing. The understatement all in the rigidity of craftsmanly conformity, as who can argue that well made is not well made whilst the self expression is down the wrong avenue. This party of the peacocks had grown to exclude the outsider. The concept of communication to all but other woodworkers was abandoned in an orgy of dovetails and 320 grit. The comparrison to custom bike shows, to car meets, bug jams, gurning and air guitar world championships is a good one. I have introduced two to this world, hoping they would retain self but watched them both succumb to this indulgent aesthetic.
But where to go from here. The disillusionment with mainstream design is genuine, upholding the values of craftsmanship is a noble cause. The ability to realise an idea in ways most trained architects never get to must be something inspiring jealousy as they design another trainstation toilet. Amongst all that wood there are some quiet ideas that are worth pursuing.
It shouldn't be about shouting the loudest. Surely we have proved that now. I don't write this in insult; I am part of it. No, I write because I care. I stopped teaching at the colleges because I didn't feel we were sending students out with a proper game plan. They were expecting, perhaps due to prices seen on pieces on show, that they were all artists able to operate in a market that didn't exist, producing beasts of wonder. No thought for context, domestic context, only picturing how it woulkd look in some imaginary gallery.
When I was graduating I recall a piece I had made that used a table form to express secondary meanings, a piece to be 'read' in the same way my friends graduating in fine art at goldsmiths expected their work to be read. I had followed goldsmiths reading list and was steeped in Baudrillard, Barthes etc. A well known 70s DM said, 'do we really need anymore generic table forms?', I felt upset as I admired him. Then it hit me. He was looking at it through the modernist eyes of his generation. Without irony, without looking for what it meant. Looking at it purely in terms I had not considered growing up when I did.
We are a generation apart. It is hard to communicate all we amass through life. But it is time for a shift. The language may be the same but what we are saying has changed.
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