Kesurokai

Finished model of the pavilion

So, the scale model is now finished and it looks very beautiful. This will now act as a plan to help when the carpenters construct the life-size version in Japan. There are a few lovely little details I noticed:

Stone piers: It is sat on top of little stones and I am guessing this is how it will be constructed because it is the same as our little barn. The bulk of the timber frame will stay dry because of the roof and wall cladding, but the bottom pieces are prone to rot if they are on damp ground. So it is traditional to raise the frame on little stone piers with a small piece of lead between the stone and frame. You can see those for our barn below, left. The stones came from the stream just below Robin's workshop and the lead was donated by our neighbour, the vicar, who had some left overs from last time they repaired the church roof:

 

Oak pegs: The model is held together with wooden pegs because that is what will hold together the final building. Each joint is carefully constructed so when the pegs are knocked through the holes they pull the joint together. The pegs have to be made from really dry wood so they will not shrink afterwards and a large number are needed so I imagine this will be a less-strenuous but slightly tedious task for the carpenters once they are on-site.

Joint numbers: Every joint is labelled with a series of symbols and you can see these too in the picture below of Hannes working on our little barn. If you can read them, the symbols will show exactly where in the barn each end of every timber goes. Buildings like this are not built gradually, instead all the pieces are cut and every joint tried and tested in isolation before finally the frame is constructed in one go. I think there are various different regional systems of doing this in Europe, and the Japanese one is different again, so it will be interesting to find out how they have chosen to do it!

 

There are more pictures of the final model in the photo album.

Profile: Ulrik Hjort Lassen

Ulrik is from Denmark, but currently based in Sweden whilst studying for a PhD in practical carpentry, researching working methods in timber framed constructions. His particular interest is in the different procedures of “Afbinding, Opsnøring and Tilridsning,” Danish words which (unsatisfactory) can be translated into layout and scribing.

The Scandinavians take their traditional crafts much more seriously than in the UK and have an excellent educational programme to show for it. Ulrik started his carpentry training at the Dacapo Craft School in Sweden, which was originally a vocational training centre for carpenters specialising in traditional building crafts, but then became part of Göteborg University. So he now has a Bachelors degree and is currently undertaking a five year research programme for his PhD.

Whilst I admire the Scandinavian’s attitude to traditional craft, it seems that practice-led PhDs are not well established in the field and he is still struggling with “ways of executing practical research in an academic world without losing the performance of the craft”. Having done a practice-led PhD myself and subsequently been doing research training for others, this might something I can help with. I am looking forwards to spending some time with Ulrik in Japan and discussing this.

In the mean time, a large part of Ulrik’s time is spent on practical building projects, both on his own in the building yard, and as a part of different projects, which have been all over Europe since much of the timber construction in Sweden is with whole log construction, rather than timber framing. The Japanese Kesurokai is an opportunity to spread his knowledge a little further!

 Ulrik will travel to Japan with his fiancée, Lina Lo Gillefalk, who is just completing a qualification as a conservation officer specialising in the built heritage (“bebyggelsesantikvarie”). She will be an observer on the project and together they will write about the importance of practical workshops to maintain both practical skills and the intangible cultural heritage of the building crafts.

There's more about Ulrik, including some video, on this fascinating French timber framing web site.

Traditional craft apprenticeship

As a great admirer of traditional craftsmanship, I am saddened when craftsmen come to the end of their working practice without having passed their unique skills on. However, the more I read about traditional apprenticeship, the more I can see why this has happened and cannot wish for a return to the old ways of teaching.

I just finished reading "Edo Craftsmen, master artisans of old Tokyo" and of the twelve featured craftsmen only two appear both to have long-term viable businesses and trained apprentices to pass on their skills. Part of the problem is the increasing accessibility of cheaper, mass-produced alternatives to whatever they make. However, many craftsmen manage to market their produce in such conditions by selling a small volume at higher prices to more discerning customers. The failure is in part caused by a lack of younger people coming into the crafts with the vision to exploit such markets.

The descriptions in the book of the craftsmen's experience of traditional apprenticeship reveals both the rigour and the modern-day drawbacks of the system. They would start very young and spend several years doing menial tasks whilst observing the breadth of the practice, then gradually take on small tasks followed by increasingly complex ones as they grew older and more able. The emphasis was not on teaching, but learning; observing and imitating, rather than being shown how.

With a good master and a willing student this clearly works well. In her study of the Japanese ceramicist Shoji Hamada, Susan Peterson describes the relationship between deshi (apprentice) and master: “To learn as a deshi means to submit one’s self to the master, to leave one’s own self, to become ‘in’ the master. This ‘surrender’ to the master does not mean just blind imitation, but gives a spiritual discipline and the opportunity to absorb a skill into one’s bones.”

However, it is a system that relies on a huge amount of trust and non-verbal communication between master and apprentice, and that is not always going to work well. Whilst a very strict master might ensure that very high standards of craft skills are passed from one generation to the next, it might well be at the cost of creativity and the ability of the younger person to see new opportunities and develop new markets. Given also that young people stay in school much longer nowadays, I cannot see a traditional craft apprenticeship being a very appealing option.

The future, however is not all bleak, I think there are craftsmen who have adapted to new ways of teaching and also multimedia offers huge potential to record and transmit quite complex skills. In my last research project I worked with traditional Sheffield knife makers and made an online resource which was successfully used by a variety of learners. The wonders of the internet mean information travels fast and those who wish to learn in this way can readily access such resources and conduct their own apprenticeships in their own way.

Barefoot woodwork

People often comment on the Japanese carpenters' preference for working barefoot ... and they question the safety of it. Clearly it is standard practice in Japan and winter pictures on Amemiya san's site show them wearing soft-soled, flexible shoes so I suspect that having a firm foothold on the log underneath them is of prime importance.

So, what if the axe slipped? Well, their axes are so sharp and heavy you would definitely need a substantial steel toecap to deflect them (and then you would probably damage your precious blade!) I suspect behind it is techniques that mean their feet would be out of the way if the blade travelled further than planned. Bare feet give you the incentive to make sure they will be.

We have been asked on carving courses about whether new students should not wear a protective glove to guard against slips with the knife. Our decision has been that our whole ethos is to teach techniques to ensure this does not happen, and having bare hands gives the best grip and keeps the students mind focused on safety. We get very few injuries so it pays off for us too!

Pavilion model making

I have some new photos of Hannes and Markus making a scale model of the pavilion which is a really important part of the making process.

This is their first try-out of the plans they have drawn, a first physical check that their measurements are correct and the jigsaw puzzle will go together. I suspect that for such experienced craftsmen it will also highlight any parts of the construction which are likely to be problematic when they make the real thing.

 

 

 

It is not quite, but very nearly finished - more photos in the photo album.

In modern architectural practice this physical model-making is gradually being replaced by computer modeling which in some ways could be seen to be faster and more accurate. However, I regularly do research training at Sint Lucas School of Architecture, Brussels, and equally regularly the lecturers who I teach speak out against it. They feel you learn much more about the building you are planning through the physical making of a model. Once you have that experience, you can then transfer that knowledge to using computer-aided design, but if you start with the computer you can easily create problems.

On the news this morning I heard that Virgin are having to redesign their Formula 1 racing car because the fuel tank is too small to get the car to the end of races. This is the first F1 car to have been completely designed on a computer to save money on the making and testing of physical prototypes.

German vs Japanese hewing

The most common way the German carpenters hew a beam is to start by cutting a series of v-shaped notches along its length. They do this by working in a pair, taking alternate cuts at each side of the notch, which is very efficient and quite remarkable to watch (video here). Then the wood between the notches is removed, leaving a flat surface:

 

The Japanese method is to do a series of relief-cuts into the log in just one direction, rather than removing a notch, then slice off the surface by swinging a large axe like a pendulum. This is achieved by standing bare-foot on top of the log which is equally as remarkable to watch (video here).

 

Both methods seem to be equally efficient, and clearly the regional axes have developed according to the way in which they are used ... or maybe the way the axes are used dictates their style!

Work plans for the Pavilion

The amount of work behind the timber frame buildings that will be constructed in Japan during Kesurokai is awe-inspiring! The latest email from Hannes explains the work plan for the European pavilion...

The carpenters will work in 7 groups of 7 people, mixed Europeans and Japanese with a European head-carpenter for every group. The project will probably take 9 days with 8 hours work per day. [That's a total of just over 3,500 man hours work!]

A little of the wood will be prepared in advance by the Japanese carpenters, but most will be processed during the first two days when everyone will work together, firstly hewing then sawing the timbers. During this time Cornelius and Hannes will prepare the elevation from which the groups will get the measurements they need for the elements they will build.

The groups will then spend around six days, each preparing an element of the building; the walls that run the length of the building, the gables that run across the building, the rafters for the roof ... and the framework for the barbecue! Once all the elements are made the whole building will be put together on the last day like a gigantic wooden puzzle.

And of course whilst this is all happening there will be a parallel project running with the remainder of the carpenters, again mixed Japanese and European groups, working together on the tea house:

Medieval technology via 21st Century technology

Medieval timber framed buildings were massive, beautifully built and many are still standing to this day. All this was achieved using very simple tools and machinery ... and without the sort of standard measuring systems we have today. How? ... well, daisy wheel geometry is believed to be the way in which it was done.

Hannes and Markus spent the weekend working out their geometry, drawing up the plans for the pavilion to be built in Japan. Whilst chatting about this to Hannes on Skype he showed me how you can share your screen with the person you are talking to, which I am afraid I didn't know about ... yes, he's a traditional carpenter and I'm a multimedia designer! Even better, he then revealed this was how he had learned to do daisy wheel geometry. During their first big Kesurokai meeting, UK expert Cormac Seekings explained how it worked via Skype, a laptop computer and a data projector. A fantastic meeting of medieval and modern technologies!

I will ask Cormac for a similar lesson, but the background is that Laurie Smith has studied and measured many hundreds of timber framed buildings and found they conform to a layout that was probably constructed geometrically. On many geometrical symbols can be seen scribed or carved into the timbers which reinforces the theory. So originally many buildings would have been laid out on site with a divider to scribe out reference circles for the layout along with a plumb-bob and chalk line.

Nowadays, plans are made in advance on paper, then a scale model constructed to check accuracy. For Kesurokai this is essential because a cutting list of the timber needed must be sent in advance to Japan so everything is ready when we get there in August. Here is part of the nearly-completed plan:

 

They are currently working on the model and will send me pictures when it is done.

Finally here is a video of French master carpenter Jean-Louis Velentin talking about roof geometry... I am not normally a fan of 'talking head' videos, but he talks with such passion it is quite compelling (or maybe I am just easily seduced by a French accent!)

American broad axe

A slightly frivolous Sunday morning post as I came across this picture yesterday when looking for pictures of Robin's Japanese carpenters axe! I don't think it is something Robin really has a use for, but it was offered to him by a friend in the States and it is such a wonderful thing he couldn't resist adding it to his collection.

It is as much as I can do to pick it up with two hands so I have every admiration for people who can swing one all day. It is however as much about technique as strength. If you watch Amemiya san in the youTube video near the bottom of this post you can see how he uses the weight of the axe to cut the wood, like a swinging pendulum.

Japanese carpenters axe

The axe Robin Wood is using for hewing his fence posts was bought for him by Hannes Schnelle during his last trip to Japan setting up the forthcoming Kesurokai event. It is a beautiful tool and gives Robin so much pleasure! Here it is when it arrived, packed in beautiful, wafer-thin wood shavings from a plane...

 

Robin's Japanese friend and fellow turner Tomio Imaru gave us this rough translation of the text on it:

Maybe the big 2 kanji words on the blade are the smith's name"kajiya-mei". Usually a bladesmith puts his smiths name (which sometimes does not coincide with his real name) on the blade. It looks like 幸英. On the lower side of the blade I see the location of the work shop name 土佐. Tosa is a Japanese prefectural name and is located in Shikoku island. Almost all Japanese axes have 7 stripes; four are on the right side of the blade and three are on the left side. These stripes mean the thanks for wood,  safe woodworking, and offer alhohol and crops.

Robin loves axes and has a large collection - I will see if I can get him to photograph a few and write a little about them.