dilettante \DIL-uh-tont; dil-uh-TONT; dil-uh-TON-tee; -TANT; -TAN-tee\, noun:
1. An amateur or dabbler; especially, one who follows an art or a branch of knowledge sporadically, superficially, or for amusement only.
2. An admirer or lover of the fine arts.
from the Italian delittare, "to delight," from Latin delectare, "to delight,"
Today, to be a dilettante has a somewhat pejorative connotation, it implies that one is not really serious, just an amateur jumping from one thing to another as his interest takes him. During the Italian Renaissance it had a different connotation. It implied an interest in all things, the arts and the sciences, and it was used as a compliment, to refer to someone who delighted in new knowledge.
When I see a piece of woodturning, pottery or metal working that appeals to me, my first thought is to try to make it myself. "Gee, that's neat, I'd like to make one of those." At first, I will copy it closely. Copying a piece of work is a way of getting to know it better. There are often surprises. Some things that look easy turn out to be very hard. Some things that looks very hard turn out to be very easy. After I've made it once, if I like it, I'll make it again and it will start to change. Eventually, after many copies, it may be hard to recognize the original inspiration. This, to me, is one of the great pleasures of woodturning, the constant evolution of new ideas. As I'm working on one piece I'm already thinking of how I will change it on the next. I can't imagine making the same thing over and over.
Yet if you go to woodturning conventions and listen to a symposium of established turners, what you will hear over and over again is that you must find your "form," and stick to it. You must develop a form that will be instantly recognized as yours. When you submit applications to craft shows, show very similar pieces so that the jurors will be able to indentify you. Don't confuse them with pieces of very different styles.
This is undoubtedly good advice, both for getting into shows and becoming a successful turner, but I don't think I could ever follow it. There are just too many neat things to try to make. I always have more ideas of things to make than I have time to make them.
I like the freedom to make what I want and not to know exactly what may happen. When I begin work each day, I often start with a definite plan of what I will make. Occasionally I follow that plan. What usually happens is that I go into my shop and see some piece of wood that may have been lying around for a year or more and get some idea of what I could do with it. As I work on it, I often change my mind. Sometimes I start on a piece, give up, and then pick it up again months later with another idea. I am not very disciplined, but eventually something emerges.
I like making simple, useful bowls like this apple bowl.
Bowls like this have been made for thousands of years and when you make one you feel part of that tradition. There is nothing particularly challenging about making them unless you want to make them very thin or in some difficult shape, but they are very satisfying to make and, unlike much of my other stuff, they are actually useful.
I also like making unusual, one of a kind pieces that take advantage of a paticular piece of wood. For example, the bowl below was made from a walnut root that was filled with rocks and dirt (and one nail which cost me a bandsaw blade).
Walnut, though a "hardwood," is usually a relatively soft wood. This root, however, was exceptionally hard, almost like some exotic wood from South America or Africa. It also had a beautiful figure, which you can almost see in this picture. But the crack was a problem. While holes can sometimes be used to good effect, the crack in this piece wasn't very interesting and I was about to give up on it when I got the idea to fill the crack with pewter. (This wasn't an original idea of mine.) Pewter melts at a relatively low temperature, so I can melt in on the stove and just pour it into the crack and then smooth it when it cools. I liked the contrast of the dark walnut and the polished pewter.
I have also been influenced by the shapes and colors of Asian pottery, as in the vessel below.
I use highly figured wood, like the amboyna burl in this piece, and different colors of wood, like ebony and bloodwood, in place of the glazes used by potters.
I also like trying unusual techniques. Recently I have been working on eccentric turnings - turning in which the axis of the piece is changed. This can lead to very interesting effects.
Finally, sometimes I just get strange ideas. The box below started out with the idea of just putting some decoration on a relatively plain cherry box.
Originally I was planning on using silver wire to make the little dots on the side of the box, but the silver didn't seem to work very well with the cherry. Then I had another idea.
Instead of using silver wire, I used porcupine quills (which I happened to have because I using them in tying trout flies) and I decided to leave the points on. I love watching people when they open this box. I display it with my other, more usual, boxes. Some people open it, and then quickly close it and put it back on the shelf. Some ask what it's for. And some just start laughing.
If you want to know more about my philosophy of turning, the best way is to just look through the gallaries of my turnings and see the kinds of things I make. That is really what this web site is for..