::: ART, CRAFT & DESIGN
PART III | In 1998, just before their first child was born, Marcus and his wife were camping on the edge of a Southern Tasmanian clear-felled coupe.
Marcus retells how Myrtle Amphora was made:
I watch the storeys of trees coexisting as if forever. This lump of deep red myrtle is solid right through to its centre, it has over three hundred annular rings. I have an enormous amphora in my mind and the form is there before my spinning chain.
The beginning cuts are made however it becomes obvious that our child is ready to venture into the world. We leave camp quickly and the amphora sits behind its bark in silence. Daughter Elsa is born happily in our home. A week passes with feelings of awe and wonder at life. With a spring in my step, I leave back to the coupe.
This time, alone, several days of peace unfold. Sculpting requires my whole being and in the forests there are few interruptions After six days of short visits to the coupe, the exterior form unfolds.
The main issue is fumes. Wind provides ventilation, and once the prostrate vessel is side on, there is less need for a snorkel!
Big Claes has a 900mm long bar and I access the interior from both ends, to hollow out the amphora. With the chainsaw dangling from a cord on a whippy sapling, the manoeuvre is less tiring. The main issue is fumes. Wind provides ventilation, and once the prostrate vessel is side on, there is less need for a snorkel!
Holing through from one end to the other is a milestone, however to thin the wall thickness to a manageable 20-25mm requires ultimate concentration, delicately shaving the walls with the chainsaw to match the exterior form.
After two weeks the amphora is light enough to roll onto my vehicle. I pour the last of the billy onto the embers and take the vessel to the kiln at my studio.
I spend days inside the form mostly painting on my back to create the starscape seen for hundreds of years above this tree and its colleagues.
It takes about three months to gently dehumidify the wood fibres so that they remain stable, and receive chisel cuts that hold a polish. More treatment with an electric and fumeless chainsaw finalises the form, and a wide flat chisel is pared across the rich red surfaces.
The interior is a canvas to describe the hidden life of the trees in the forest. I spend days inside the form mostly painting on my back to create the starscape seen for hundreds of years above this tree and its colleagues.
The interior of this tree holds the unknowable in human levels of perception and I feel empowered to even sense such energy.
I think of Elsa in the womb only weeks earlier. I want to spend longer inside this tree. I get pillows and watch. I sense how insignificant my time on earth is. I wonder if this tree will give my final resting.
See more of Marcus Tatton's creations
at his web site. Click
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