Sign Here (and Here) and Here
I am not Dan Brown. I don't want to make too much of the idea that every furniture ornament, carving and moulding has meaning beyond: Ooooooh, pretty. Most ornament on old furniture isn’t trying to do anything more than entice a rich person to buy it.
But there are messages in the woodwork (and stonework) that have been left by their makers.
Norse runes, their functions and meanings, have been well documented. I've lately been translating the Hungarian book by Gyenes Tamás, “Ácsolt ládák titkai.” The book documents how Tamás builds traditional chests and inscribes the decorations on them. A fair number of these symbols/signs have meanings beyond their outward beauty. Concentric arcs can represent a plowed field. An “X” in a box can represent the Christian cross. Still other symbols can represent the different people in a family and the crops they grow. (My next entry will show you how I find and translate these books quickly with a free app.)
As I mentioned at the outset of “The American Peasant,” I have been staring at these Eastern European symbols for many months, and many have begun to take on meaning for me. I finally understand how people could look at the stars and say: “Oh look! A ram, a guy in a chariot and a crab.”
And this has caused me to want to “make excessive ornament.”
I’ve always resisted adding much in the way of carvings and mouldings to my furniture beyond the bits that had a function. Mouldings in particular can separate the plinth and capital from the main carcase – both visually and physically.
However, pieces that use a heap of moulding and carving and marquetry/parquetry have always looked like tits on a tomcat to me (aka useless). My attitude might be an echo of my journalism schooling. We try to eliminate every word in a sentence that does not add to its meaning. So, a huge stack of moulding looks to me like the “very very very incredible super best thingy.”
But if the ornament can transmit meaning? Perhaps say something in addition to the piece’s form and utility? Well, that’s interesting to me. That’s like… writing.
So why not just learn letter carving? I don’t want to make every cabinet an essay. And I want the symbols or signs to look pleasing even if you don’t know what they might represent. A cabinet door carved with 32 words makes me think, “Uh oh, high-minded notions ahoy.” But a cabinet door etched with concentric arcs instead might make think of the sun, or an eye or…. just concentric arcs.
Plus, this sort of carving or grooving is simple enough that a beginner can do it. You need only a couple tools. One makes a straight groove. The other makes a curved groove. What can you do with just these two shapes? Quite a lot, as it turns out.
One important goal with “The American Peasant” is to decorate furniture with a series of arcs and grooves that might remind you of something important. And when you look at them, you might think: Yes, spreadsheets suck ass. I am tired of being surveilled by corporations. I hate that all our stores sell the same dreck. I wish I wasn’t judged by tests dreamed up by rich farts who want subservient workers. And yes, I want to have a genuine connection with my neighbors. I want to make things.
Or you might just think: Ooooooh, pretty.
And that’s OK, too.
Today's Glyph/Rune/Spell
I've been carving this one on the legs of the table I'm building for my daughter Katherine. It’s a square, about 5-1/2" wide and tall. It’s divided by a diagonal slash, which creates two triangles. One of the triangles is incised with vertical lines.
What does it mean? This symbol appears on a lot of old chests. And if Gyenes Tamás mentions its meaning in "Ácsolt ládák titkai," I have yet to translate that part of the book. When I look at it, I think one triangle looks like day; the other like night. Megan Fitzpatrick says it looks like the triangle with the vertical lines looks like sunbeams. I think they look like rain.
What matters to me is that I tell Katherine what they mean. And she can tell others, maybe her children or grandchildren. Each symbol represents a full day to me – the day and the night. The symbol as a whole is supposed to remind us that there are a finite number of days in our lives. And not to waste them.
Just catching up on these entries and it looks like an interesting journey you’re on. I spent the last few years in New Zealand, and the indigenous Māori culture uses designs and patterns to communicate all sorts of ideas and history. Since they didn’t have a written form of their language (relied on oral history), the symbols in their buildings, carvings, tattoos, etc. tell the stories and hold powerful symbolism. Worth a look if you ever want to dive down another rabbit hole.
You want my autograph ? Sure !
Here´s my humble BullShip fighter legacy of a life gone simply wrong, or at least south. Hit me up if you´d like to change my catch 22 course, you help me, I help you, a win-win scenario !
https://liborsoural.substack.com/p/the-major-league-challenge