Gouges, Mallets, and a Bark Spud

Sometimes discovering local art is like a treasure hunt. In Luke Lichterman's case I was given a name and phone number and told, "I think you'll find him interesting." So, taking the bait, I made a phone call and got directions over the river and through the woods (literally) to a woodland hideaway out in the Green Creek area. I figured I must be driving down the right dirt road when I finally saw a pine mobile hanging from a tree. Though there was no bridge, standing stones marked the spot to cross the creek.

Finally I arrived at a huge barn with major landscaping in progress as well as the promised wood carver at work on a tree trunk with other pieces in various stages of completion. Peg and the dogs made their introductions. Then, while she went upstairs to find us coffee and the dogs wandered on to their adventures, Luke introduced the works in progress.

My eyes were so busy taking in the rich colors of the wood, the amazing faces, and detailed carving that I was surprised when Luke began by telling me that he had not gone to school for art.

In the art world a self-taught artist is called "naïve." So I've been naïve for many, many years working in places outside of the US and in California .

When did you start teaching yourself?

My grandfather was a carpenter and when I was ten my father, grandfather and I built a boat that I sailed in Lake Michigan. I was smitten. I started building boats and dreaming of going to sea. I worked with my grandfather building cabinets and furniture. When I wasn't at sea, that's what I was doing.

What did you love about the sea?

Boats and sailboats in particular. I worked for a number of years on commercial freighters and for years on private yachts. I fished commercially and had my own boat. When I wasn't at sea I worked many jobs one of which was always furniture making, and I've always carved wood.

But now you've come ashore?

Yeah it's too cold to be at sea any more. I'm done.

I've heard stories from college students lured by the promise of money that barely survived a summer on the Alaskan boats.

I survived Alaska fishing boats and long-line trolling in the Pacific for tuna. I had made some money and had my own boat. Then I got rid of the money throwing it into that hole in the water.

We look over photos of some of his furniture work from the 70's. There are several beautiful asymmetrical tables that highlight the color and grain of the wood as well as a couple of doors that are very different. One is an exquisite more traditional looking wood door, and the other is a set of double doors that form a tree when closed.

There is a church door for Mary, Star of the Sea Catholic Church in La Jolla, California. The tree doors are in a home in La Jolla. This obelisk went to Australia. I use a wide range of Western and Eastern tools for carving wood. Orthopedic instruments are made of quality surgical steel and they hold a sharp edge. I wrap the handles so they are easier to grip. I also like using this dozuki (a Japanese woodworking hand saw with a thin blade that cuts on the pull stroke).

How did you make your way here?

I was living in San Diego and a friend from Knoxville invited me out to visit and I met Peg. After knowing each other a long while we decided make ourselves "one" and to do this together. We built this barn and will start building a house up on top of the hill in the next year. This is what I intend to be doing for the rest of my life.

At first glance your work in progress reminds me of totem poles, but different.

I was living in Gig Harbor, Washington on the Puget Sound and there are totem poles every few feet. There was a big storm one day and at a place I was living a huge Douglas fir tree came down. So I carved it where it was, a pole free standing on its own roots. But no, they are not totem poles (there are no frogs or ravens or other such critters and I'm not Native American), I call them "Asymmetrical Obelisks." They're vertical sculptures. I work with the form of the tree. I find the faces, vines, and bunches of grapes within the wood. The swirling lines of the tree become the wrinkles on a faces.

What wood do you use?

The sun obelisk is walnut. Upstairs you'll see a red oak pole. I mostly use white oak, red oak, walnut, and maple, the indigenous trees of the area. Hard woods are easier to carve. And there's plenty of wood right here on the property.

What do you imagine this particular piece on the sawhorses will turn into?

I see it as a 10 foot tall obelisk, perhaps with faces.

Where can someone see your work locally?

This is an ongoing effort. I've got some pieces showing at Tryon Arts & Crafts. I have a piece at the Architectural Warehouse that's a seven foot tall, deeply carved obelisk. I'm not fond of working with galleries. As far as my art is concerned, I'm just trying to make museum quality pieces that people can enjoy in their homes. That sounds kind of new age. I'm not a cuddly kind of guy. I'm really a hard edge conservative. I'm working for off beat non-gallery locations where decorators go to buy things.

Where have some of you pieces ended up?

I have pieces in homes in California and Washington.

We conclude the visit with a tour of his finish work in the upstairs living space of the "barn." From the window frames, to the ornately carved center pole, their home itself is a piece of art. I leave wondering how such an artist could ever be considered "naïve."