In Sheffield (once the great centre of cutlery manufacture) the person who assembles and adjusts scissors is called a putter-together, sometimes putter-togetherer, often shortened to putter. It takes years to develop the skill and judgment to do this job really well.
In this video we see Cliff Denton at work. He is a putter at Ernest Wright & Sons Ltd, one of the few Sheffield businesses that still makes high quality scissors in the traditional way.
John Smeaton, on working solo
I am committed to Continuing Professional Development. I try to keep up with the current technical literature. Just now, reminded by John Smeaton’s birthday, I have been re-reading his account of the design and building of the third Eddystone Lighthouse. It’s a big book, full of fascinating detail. He wrote it at the end of his long career, as he looked back on his most celebrated project.
He explains why he chose to work on his own during the early stages of his work. He was stuck in London between meetings with various important people, as he grappled with the problem of securing the lighthouse tower to the wave-swept rock:
It seeming therefore to be a first principle, to cut the rock as little as we could help ; and for this end, to humour its irregularities as far as we could, so as to get a firm fixing for our work ; on this account it appeared necessary, as the first step to be taken (from the dimensions already obtained, and by the methods already specified) to construct a complete Model of the rock, in the condition I found it : which being done, a second model might then be formed, shewing to what the rock was to be reduced, with the manner of applying the work of the building thereto ; and so as to describe the external general form, which would be the whole of what was then wanted, for present determination ; and for adjusting the work of the approaching season. These models I determined should be the work of my own hands ; and this I foresaw, must in its own nature be a work of Time.
THOSE of my readers, who are not in the practice of handling mechanical tools themselves, but are under the necessity of applying to the manual operations of others, will undoubtedly conclude, that I might have saved much time, by employing the hands of others in this matter : and on the idea of the design being already fixed, and fully and accurately, as well as distinctly made out; that is, supposing the thing done, that was wanted to be done, it certainly would have been so: and had I wanted a duplicate of any part, or of the whole, when done, I should certainly have had recourse to the hands of others. But such of my readers, as are in the use of handling tools, for the purpose of contrivance and invention, will clearly see, that provided I could work with as much facility and dispatch as those I might happen to meet with and employ, I should have all the time and difficulty, and often the vexation, mistakes and disappointments that arise from a communication of one’s own ideas to others; and that when steps of invention are to follow one another in succession, and dependance on what preceded, under such circumstances, it is not eligible to make use of the hands of others.
I had also a further reason for undertaking this part of the work myself ; which those who shall peruse this account for the sake of information, may not be displeased to know.——I have always found in subjects of mechanical invention and investigation, that I can seldom form an original idea so complete, but that by laying it down in its proper dimensions on paper, I could very much mature and improve it ; and where the subject is attended with intricacy, it is in a greater degree necessary : but in reducing this to a solid, as is the case in making a model, still further corrections and advantages will often present themselves, that did not appear upon Paper : and this is in a much more eminent degree when the solid is produced from a drawing by the artist’s own hand, than by the hand of another : and still further improvements will occur, by going again over the detail, in constructing the work itself at large. Therefore to avail myself of all possible advantages of previous light and information, I determined, from the paper materials that I had brought from Plymouth ; as well as those I carried thither ; at once to construct the models above-mentioned myself…
[John Smeaton, A narrative of the building and a description of the construction of the Edystone Lighthouse with stone … (London: G Nicol, 1793) Book II, Page 70.]
I’m pleased to discover that one of Smeaton’s models is in the museum in Leeds, his home town.
John Smeaton’s birthday
Let us take note that John Smeaton, the English civil engineer, was born in Leeds on this day 290 years ago.
Gongs for Thom and Dick
I am delighted that two old friends were recognised in the 2014 Queensland Memory Awards last night.
Thom Blake, historian, was awarded the John Oxley Library Fellowship—a 12 month residency to further his research on the Great Artesian Basin. A great choice. I have been to a few artesian bores with Thom and know how keen he is, so I’m looking forward to the results.
Richard Stringer, photographer, received the John Oxley Library Award … for his work in documenting Queensland’s landscape and architecture over the past 40 years.
I’ve followed Richard’s work since 1967 or 1968—I don’t recall which year, but I do remember that first exhibition in an upstairs gallery in central Brisbane. I was a high-school student interested in photography and Richard was an architect branching out into photography. He showed black and white prints of buildings and architectural features. I remember the graphic treatment of the subjects, with bold shadows, lines and textures accentuated by darkroom manipulations—high contrast, solarisation, bas-relief.
In the 1970s Richard started to travel the countryside for the National Trust of Queensland recording historic buildings and places. He made straight documentary photographs, but he used his eye for light and shadow to reveal the form and use of the places—the best of these photos have a striking graphic quality, on top of their documentary value. His thousands of negatives become more valuable as time passes. He has continued adding to this archive, in the course of personal projects and commissioned work.
I have developed my own schoolboy interest in photography, alongside my work in architecture and conservation. I rate myself as competent, but there are projects where I know I need to call on Richard. I have always enjoyed working with him and been delighted with the photographs he has made. On other jobs I have used pictures from his archive for reference. It is terrific to be able to ask him if he has photographed a certain place—in Bundaberg, Bourketown or Birdsville—and find that he has.
Richard has recently set up a website where you can see some of his work and order prints.
Here’s something delightful—24 volumes of an Encyclopaedia Britannica transformed into a mountain landscape by the artist Guy Laramée. I have already admitted to a liking for the printed Britannica, but I know that’s outmoded. Thanks to the blog Colossal for revealing this work to me.
Getty Images: free at last?
For years, Getty Images has tried to stop web publishers using images from its library of pictures unless they pay money to Getty. The company has tracked down pirates and chased them through the courts to recover licence fees. But, in a sudden reversal, the company has announced a new scheme. Bloggers and other non-commercial users can use images on their websites at no charge—as long as the images remain on Getty’s servers and are displayed using Getty’s code.
I know there’s no such thing as a free lunch. When I first heard about it, I didn’t see why Getty Images would do this. But now I do—thanks to Peter Krogh who has explained how this could be part of a cunning plan.
With that new understanding, and just as an experiment, I am happy to try it out. So here is a picture of a lighthouse, courtesy of Getty Images.
The lighthouse in this fine photograph is properly called the Entrance Island Light. The boat in the picture is passing through Hells Gate, the narrow entrance to the harbour. I think the camera is looking across the shallow mouth of the harbour towards the rugged coastline to the north. It was taken from an elevated position, perhaps the upper deck of the Lady Jane Franklin II.
I like the way the morning light shows off the octagonal form of the wooden tower. There are few wooden lighthouse towers like this still standing in Australia. The 1891 Entrance Island lighthouse, and its companion on Bonnet Island about 300 m away inside the harbour, are the only ones I know still in service. Five of them, all built in the 1860s, survive in Queensland in various states of repair, but none of them is lit.