The Riverstones sideboard was
commission by a couple who are long-time clients of ours. They first bought my
work a decade ago and now have an extensive collection of Dunstone Design, from
some humble Waterfall stools through to some of our most technically
challenging work. Designing and making for this couple is an absolute delight; we
all know each other so well. It is a truism that the best clients get the best
work, simply because we know (and care) who we are making for and can respond
delicately to their taste.
Riverstones is made from
exquisitely figured river red gum with rock maple drawer internals and
adjustable shelves. The handles are made from African wenge with intense red
gum burl as the feature timber. The foot detail is also wenge.
Riverstones was crafted
by Rolf Barfoed, with calligraphy by Shannon Henry. The single large drawer
will house a cutlery tray (not shown in the images) and the drawer will
therefore be relatively heavy. Rolf developed and installed double muntin
runners for the drawer. Instead of the drawer running off the sides of the
drawer cavity, the drawer is guided by a pair of runners set in line with the
handles. The action is exquisite.
Red gum is an extraordinary timber to work with; hard, cantankerous and
unforgiving but oh-so-rewarding when handled well. Rolf is the master of the
crisp line and the soft curve, and his detailing on this piece is sublime.
Every surface and edge is a treat for the fingers. No other timber has the
almost stone-like quality of red gum. When my hand first ran over the curves of
the top, the surfaces felt like river stones, hence the name of this piece.
Designing a piece like this is an interesting journey. The configuration
is neither radical nor daring. The function is mundane; to store all the
paraphernalia of dining. It is not a re-interpretation of storage, nor even
centre-stage in the room. The commissioning couple have one of the best
collections of Aboriginal art in Canberra, as well as an extensive collection
of our work spanning a decade; how could I allow this one piece roar above the
rest? The design required this piece to function, to be beautiful in its own
right and to work within a greater scheme.
Then there is the material; it is exceptional. In one breath it is
technically challenging and visually dazzling. How to play with its strengths
and side-step its limitations?
I consciously chose to design this piece within the constraints of
“craft”. The construction of Riverstones
is a combination of traditional solid timber and re-sawn veneer techniques. It
is not an intellectual piece, as there is no higher message or hidden theme. It
is not technically innovative, as there is no process or use of material that a
19th century cabinetmaker wouldn’t recognise (and, I hope, approve
of).
At the commencement of this piece, Rolf and I looked at all the options
for the composition of the grain. We flipped boards back and forth, skimmed
surfaces looking at colour, held up sections horizontally and vertically to
watch how the light fell differently on a piece of timber. We discussed the feel we wanted from
the piece, the context, the direction from which it would be approached in its
intended location and how it would look in a different location. We considered
previous work for the same clients. We mocked up the size and detailing of the
round-overs and edge treatments. We had collegial arguments over grain
patterns.
All this was part of the “design” process, but hardly any of it was done
with a pencil and nothing was done on a computer. We didn’t apply the Golden
Ratio or use the Fibonacci series. Rolf and I used craft, material and
experience to arrive at a piece that, I think, has simple integrity.
A final word on craftsmanship and design; I would have arrived at some
different detailing if this piece was to have been made by a different maker to
Rolf. At this level of work, each maker has a “voice” that cannot and should
not be masked. Rolf approaches the process of making differently to me. As a
practical example, on the side of Riverstones,
the re-sawn veneer panel meets the round leg with a “kiss” joint. To pull this
off, the kiss joint has to be perfect; of even depth and visual weight across
four joints. Though apparently simple, this is a very technically difficult
detail to command (at least, I think so). Had I been making the piece, I would
have inset the panel by 2mm, creating a shadow line and a subtle change of
level. I would have justified it by saying I was reflecting elements of the
floating panel on the door; in reality, I would have been avoiding a detail of
which I was uncertain. Such is the nature of designing
for craft and the integrity of the individual craftsman.