Stickleback

As a boy we would catch small fish; minnows and sticklebacks that instead of having a traditional dorsal fin opted for a run of spikes. From memory I think the ones we caught were three spined sticklebacks though I have some deeply buried dream of a fifteen spined version. This may have been a fantasy, an old wives tale shared by prepubescent boys. But the name seemed appropriate as a title for a piece of furniture I made for an exhibition I took part in. Whilst at college I’d made a table that was something of a folly but came from noticing how plants would grow through tarmac. Men plastered down their dull, black tarry pavement in belligerent triumph over nature but we all secretly knew that they didn’t stand a chance. Men may try to freeze a moment and dictate the direction of pedestrians but true paths form in wayward fashion. The collective mind wove intricate, unruly stray lines that were beyond the reason of a single urban planner. Meanwhile the pavements blistered and burst as life took its own initiative and did as it pleased. The table top I made was in oak and had small black shoots of bog oak that mimicked the growth through tarmac. The table top was a rejected idea but a curious diversion from what I saw as a rule to be broken. Of course I was wrong. Tables have flat tops with good reason. Nevertheless, having recognised my folly and being of a contrarian nature I dug in deeper. My girlfriend of the time was working in a hot glass studio and on a weekend she had access to a great facility. I asked her to make me a run of lead crystal spikes ranging from small four inch to larger ones nearly a foot in length. I carved a top from American black walnut that mitred into side panels. Beneath the top I built a maple box that housed a strip light. The glass spikes were housed into holes that allowed the light to travel up through the glass spikes which worked something like a fibre optic. The piece was of no practical use but worked as a light sculpture that glowed quietly. Who can claim that they’ve never been tempted to make a table with lead crystal glowing spikes bursting out of its back. Like a frozen burst of machine gun fire. Looking back I can still recall the impulse to create domestic monsters. Furniture is largely made to comfort yet sometimes the temptation to terrify is an impulse I have been unable to resist.

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