On confidence

It never seems to get easier, this starting of a Musing. I have to wait for the Muse to strike but most of the time she, or possibly he, is actually on strike. And then there is the thorny subject of the topic. What to write about? When I started these, I had great hopes of writing engaging pieces on the intellectual ideas underpinning my designs but I find… oh dear… that most of them don’t have intellectual underpinnings at all. Rather, they are shapes and forms, hues and tones that seem to float up, out and across my mind, usually when I am not looking for them, but definitely after I have been out in the world observing. “Get out more and remember to look while you’re about it” should be the next bullet point on the List of Things to Do This Year, especially as I have already completed the first one. And it’s only March.

So I thought… why not write about the folks that spark my imagination, those whom I admire and wish I had a small fraction of their talent, insight and proficiency. Being of a suitably patriotic nature and it not long after St Patrick’s Day, I shall start in Ireland, with furniture designer Joseph Walsh (b 1979). I use the word furniture loosely as what Joseph makes occupies the intersection between sculptural form and intended function, an intersection that Joseph manipulates so precisely.

I first saw his Erosion I low table at the Origin craft show held at Somerset House in, I think, 2009. His work has incredible presence, a serene tautness, a captivating sculptural quality, a great sense of movement, all enhanced by the intrinsic beauty of the wood. It was all the more compelling as it was intended for use. If I’d had the money, I would have bought it then and there.

What also intrigues me about Joseph Walsh is that he is self-taught. Illness in his early teens resulted in his not being able to attend school. To keep him occupied, his grandfather bought him a set of tools and taught him the basics of joinery and fret work. Over time Joseph mastered more complex techniques and set up his own studio aged 19 at his parents’ farm in Cork. I imagine his being consumed by the ritual of perfecting his craft. To me, this mastery of technique and deep knowledge of his material allows him to start from a conceptual point and spiral outwards, exploring and creating a myriad of interpretations of something as prosaic as a chair, a table or a set of shelves.

I wonder also whether the absence of a formal design education has freed him to follow his own path. I too am self-taught and I worry that I am somehow a fraud as I do not have the requisite letters after my name or the framed parchment on the wall. Seeing and experiencing Joseph’s work gives me heart and a measure of confidence to keep creating.

I am drawn to designers and makers with a deep connection to nature and Joseph Walsh is no exception. He draws inspiration from the nature and landscape of his native Cork, so for me his pieces also have an indelible connection to my homeland but are not confined to one small island on the western fringes of Europe – the sinuous roots of Mangrove trees spring to mind, as does the lithe, graceful, supple and intricate work of Antonio Gaudí y Cornet (1852-1926) and Victor Horta (1861-1947). His sweeping curvilinear forms in Ash challenge technical boundaries, particularly when combined with other materials such as Connemara marble or resin.

At the root of all of his work is the user: their experience in interacting with the piece and the emotion and sensation elicited in that use. That he considers emotion and sensation as well as function when creating has huge appeal for me and I hope in my own small way to do the same with my designs. If only…