Cat Poppensieker (Woodworking & Gender Project Lead) reflecting on our first exhibition

When we started planning Skilled. Seen., we did not want to host just another furniture exhibition. This exhibition needed to respond to several of the ideas that emerged during our Carving Change seminars and from years of sector research. One of our strongest aims was to make women, trans and non-binary makers visible within our industry, so that the next generation of makers can see that they belong too.

I’ve long wanted to move away from the stereotypical polished furniture exhibition. Visiting degree shows and furniture exhibitions across the country, I watched young and emerging makers cling nervously to their exhibition stands, anxious not to miss an opportunity to profile themselves to the “right” people, impress potential employers, and stand out above their peers to win prestigious awards. To me, all of it was feeling forced and unnatural.

I wondered, how actually does a panel judge creativity, craft and skill for a “Best Apprentice” award when one apprentice is exhibiting a piece genuinely made as part of their employment (i.e. to the design of their company), while another is granted time, mentoring and exclusive materials to design and make their own masterpiece? And what do these awards actually recognise? What skill and talent goes unseen when entry to exhibit is essentially restricted by who can afford prestigious courses, or whose university happens to still offer workshop access, or who has the means to apply, transport, or simply take the time off to take part?

Women, trans and non-binary makers are a minority already when starting training because of the countless barriers placed in front of them from childhood onwards. By the time they reach the exhibition stage, they too often end up pushed into the third row again. Those who do make it there, deserve every bit of recognition they receive – they did it often against all odds, which Skilled. Seen. visitors could discover reading our collection of makers’ journeys.

We simply wanted an honest, accessible exhibition. One that provided a platform for anyone who wanted their work, their labour of love, to be seen and celebrated. If you found any piece less refined my hope is that you did not question the maker’s talent or ability, but rather wondered, What could this person achieve if they had the same access or opportunity?

Our exhibition brought together the work of 59 makers at every stage of their careers. There were 54 women (including trans women) and 5 non-binary makers. Twenty-two of them work professionally as makers, freelance or employed. Twelve graduated this year. Eight are mothers. Seven teach in higher craft education. Five are current students. Four are designers. Three are artists. Two have over thirty years of furniture making practice. Two are apprentices. There was one managing director, one rope maker and one coppice worker.

Across this inspiring, funny, kind, caring and talented group arrived an extraordinary display of innovative, experimental and beautifully traditional furniture and wooden objects. There were fifteen incredible chairs, many of them award-winning. Eleven cabinets, including apprentice pieces from the workshops of Matthew Cox Furniture and Ercol. Nineteen side tables, coffee tables and stools, with makers proudly sharing their use of home-grown, and Grown in Britain certified timbers, alongside storm-felled hyper-local species, beautifully inlaid pieces and even a chair and table made entirely from recycled Christmas trees.

The walls held detailed stick drawings in ink, an innovative light installation made from timber shavings and offcuts, and laminated mirrors. Famously, you could also find twelve Deep Fried Friends, red pine figures battered and fried, drawing on “a historical method of preserving timber, while deliberately misapplying and reimagining it through the language of deep-fried food”, by artist Mez Kerr Jones. Another crowd favourite was a collection of nine miniature carvings depicting tiny creatures and their intricate labyrinth-like homes, carved from old wooden play blocks. They reminded me of more joyful versions of some of the wonderful, if often rather grim, objects on display in Oxford’s Pitt Rivers Museum.

But Skilled. Seen. wasn’t just about objects. We also shared food, stories and resources at our Makers Meet dinner, followed by an evening of woodworking demonstrations that attracted twenty-eight visitors keen to see woodwork in action. Daisy Lula Brunsdon, College Carpenter at St Edmund Hall, demonstrated the precision of marking and cutting dovetails by hand. Caterina Lay Montoya, bespoke furniture Designer-maker and Artist in Residence at Furniture Craft School, showed visitors how to set and use traditional Japanese kanna (wooden hand planes) making a pair of winding sticks. Sarah Haydon, a second-year apprentice at Ercol, demonstrated how a Windsor chair comes together, even converting one Oxford academic into declaring, “I’m a chair-gal now!” after having a go. I had the pleasure of demonstrating the journey from log to simple eating spoon using a froe, axe, drawknife and a hookknife.

I think a quiet success of Skilled. Seen. wasn’t just that makers turned up, but that their employers chose to invest in them. I feel this is the kind of culture change our Woodworking and Gender project is hoping to encourage, and it’s the behaviour we’d love to see become normal across the industry: we saw companies giving staff time to travel, encouraging them to exhibit, and line managers and managing directors alike personally delivering pieces to the exhibition. That kind of support sends the message that their employees matter, and that their creativity, ambitions and professional development are seen and worth investing in. It was wonderful to see employers recognising that their staff’s achievements deserve celebrating, both within and beyond the workplace.

This wonderful reflection from Camilla McLean, Managing Director at Matthew Cox Furniture, accompanying A Spoon for Salt: “I am always in awe of woodworkers – people who have to be the best of everything: committed, attentive, curious and humble.” I can’t think of a better way to describe the remarkable people who filled this exhibition.

Another thing I really loved was that teachers exhibited alongside their alumni and students. There was no hierarchy in the room. Over 400 visitors were excitedly greeted by makers themselves, who happily showed people around and pointed them towards their own favourite pieces. “If you like this, you should definitely have a look at [that maker’s] work over there,” is a sentence I heard in countless variations throughout the week. That’s when I realised that Skilled. Seen. had become a genuine celebration of people’s work, ideas, achievements and journeys, rather than a competition.

All in all, it’s just been such a blast!

It took courage, a great deal of trust, and a willingness to be uncomfortable with not being in control when we handed the lead to the community of makers. From the outset, we deliberately chose not to curate this exhibition, not to gatekeep access to the space, and not to prescribe what the show should look and feel like. This worked, because everyone involved was committed to building an incredible exhibition to celebrate just how extraordinary women, trans and non-binary makers are. So Skilled. Seen. came together organically and instead of top-down curation, there was a great deal of preparation, facilitation and trust. We built a strong scaffold, but flexible enough to let the exhibition become whatever the makers needed it to be, responding in real time to what came through the door.

And we couldn’t be prouder of it!

The overwhelming support from exhibitors, industry partners and visitors alike, the sheer quality of the work, and witnessing genuine friendships and professional connections forming between makers from all across the UK surpassed anything we had dared hope for.

Before I finish, I’d also like to thank the organisations that made this exhibition possible. The Woodworking & Gender Project is supported by The National Lottery Heritage Fund, The Conran Foundation, The Mila Charitable Trust, Benchmark Furniture Ltd and Vastern Timber Ltd. Thanks to their generous support and to National Lottery players we’re working together to ensure future generations of skilled and resilient women, trans and non-binary woodworkers continue to learn, make, and shape the woodworking industry of this country for years to come. I’d also like to extend a huge thank you to Fusion Arts for welcoming us into their wonderful space and supporting us in bringing this exhibition to life.

I’d like to shout a huge Thank you! to everyone who exhibited, volunteered, demonstrated, visited, shared a meal, told their story, or simply stopped by to support us. Thank you for your trust, your time, your generosity and, above all, the care you showed one another throughout the week. Skilled. Seen. only became what it did because so many people believed in the idea and built it together.

On a personal note, I also feel incredibly grateful, and indebted, to the wonderful team at Sylva Foundation. In particular Joe, Phil, and Christine, who had my back throughout, challenged me when I needed it, occasionally slowed me down to make the exhibition better, but, most importantly, trusted me with an idea that sits well outside our day-to-day work. Thank you for giving me the freedom, support and confidence to try something so different. My final thanks goes to our Woodworking & Gender Steering Group for their ongoing support and guidance. I’d especially like to recognise Natalie Cole, whose many hours of work filling the Skilled. Seen. online catalogue ensured that this exhibition won’t simply disappear once the doors close, but will remain as a lasting record of the makers, their work and their stories.

I can’t wait to build on all of this next year!

Yours, sincerely,
Cat