A split wood basket with a story

About five years ago I was asked to re-create an old Romanian split hazel basket for a friend’s mother. At that point it was the largest split hazel basket I had ever made and I was very proud of the slightly wonky, rough basket I produced for her. 

Little did I know she would go on to use that basket every single day, for all manner of things carried to and fro. I think it is the only split hazel basket I have made for someone that is in that regular of use!

Five years later, it’s looking loved and a little worn, a few bits here and there have broken. Maybe due to my slight ineptitude at the time, and the fact it has been so heavily used. It has been great to see the basket in photos over the years to see how it has worn and which parts look more worn than others. It’s been a great research experiment! 

So. The lovely Claire deserved a new basket! Her sons commissioned me to make another one, the same size and shape, but gave me free rein with the design. 

I made a few choices, I kept a large sectioned in split hazel, a nod to the old basket, but also to keep the basket light. Claire mentioned how lovely and light it was and due to her physical capabilities, the lightness worked really well for her. However, I wanted to make the bottom of the basket a little sturdier, so I wove in some oak strips to reinforce the bottom. That, alongside more ribs and a different style of start to the weave, and we’ve got a sturdy, split hazel and oak frame basket. A Claire special, a special basket for a special lady. 

This basket has nods to the Wicklow chip basket (an Irish version of an oak swill basket, one that Lorna Singleton has been researching) and also is a sort of round version of the split hazel whisket. A basket that I make a lot of and teach, a frame basket from the welsh borders.

I can’t wait to see how the basket changes with the no-doubt constant use it will have. Thank you thank you thank you for letting me create work that is genuinely needed, and wanted, and is keeping these dying crafts alive. 

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I scuttled away to Devon for a day (or three)