The
Myrtlewood Master - Continued
The craft
Stanfill can turn out a rough bowl, ready for the drying rack, in the time it takes to smoke a cigarette. And he can carve a salmon in wood in less time than it takes to bake a potato.
But that’s not what he tells people.
“Everyone asks me, ‘How many bowls do you make in a day? And I tell them it’s not how many I make a day, it’s how many I need this year.
“The bowl doesn’t start with me going to work each day, it starts with me up a canyon in southern Oregon, sometimes in the mud and rain,” he says. “But you get ‘em when you get ‘em.”
As for increasing his volume, he dismisses the Internet as just so much work he can’t handle, and passes off any notion of hiring help.
“For me to take the time to teach somebody with my machinery and tooling, generally speaking, if I do a superb job, he wouldn’t need me anymore.”
Stanfill’s focus as a woodcrafter has transitioned over the years from general projects, to carving, and finally bowl making.
“I’m a bowl man,” he says proudly. “I’m a master woodcarver, but I prefer myrtlewood over wood carving.”
Stanfill
displays two of his 12-inch myrtlewood bowls. He's
one of only three people left on the country who
turns such bowls. One of these sold before every
leaving the lathe and the other sold minutes after
touching the showroom shelf.
Stanfill is
one of perhaps three people in the country who
still “shave turn” one-piece, 24-inch bowls. Still,
he modestly acknowledges the craftsmanship of
others.
“If you graded turners, I’m a real poor turner,” he says. “I’m a commercial turner. But I get a hell of a lot done. I deal in volume, while others deal in creation.
“So while I get a lot of bowls out, they may do just one. But their talents are unbelievable.”
Stanfill’s skill and his pursuit of perfection are best exemplified in his early days as a carver.
He’d suffered a bout with rheumatic fever that left him with doctor’s orders not to work for two years. However, the doctor did agree to let Stanfill carve.
“So I was carving a ram out of a redwood block, and I said to myself, ‘What a waste of time. If I’m going to put that much time into carving, I should do it with my best wood and deny myself the right to make any mistakes. And that would separate me from a beginner, and make me a professional.’”
“If you graded turners, I’m a real poor turner,” he says. “I’m a commercial turner. But I get a hell of a lot done. I deal in volume, while others deal in creation.
“So while I get a lot of bowls out, they may do just one. But their talents are unbelievable.”
Stanfill’s skill and his pursuit of perfection are best exemplified in his early days as a carver.
He’d suffered a bout with rheumatic fever that left him with doctor’s orders not to work for two years. However, the doctor did agree to let Stanfill carve.
“So I was carving a ram out of a redwood block, and I said to myself, ‘What a waste of time. If I’m going to put that much time into carving, I should do it with my best wood and deny myself the right to make any mistakes. And that would separate me from a beginner, and make me a professional.’”
BY:GARRET JAROS
For the Headlight-Herald
©Headlight-Herald
January 2, 2008
Page
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BY:GARRET JAROS PHOTOS FOR THE HEADLIGHT-HEARALD