Hello all,
If this is in the wrong spot feel free move it Brian.
I just thought I'd share this here and provide some insight into this remarkable man. Hate him or love him he was indeed a unique individual.
This is my meager attempt to express my feelings toward my teacher and dear friend.
Thank you all.
Ford Hallam
At this moment in time I feel it important to somehow try to express what a huge impact Ford Hallam had on me and my life.
It is plainly obvious that many other people have been touched very deeply by his generosity compassion, drive, intellect, diligence, humour, insight and his amazing skill as an Artist and Craftsman.
I feel incredibly and overwhelming fortunate to have been granted direct access to that well spring.
I cannot speak for anyone but myself, but he taught me, not only the Craft I now make my living from ,but also how to elevate that work into something more than just carving, sawing and filing.
In the early days of the Iron brush forum I was initiated into this way of "seeing". He would critique and offer truly honest assessments of the work offered up trying to guide and I believe coalesce his ideas around teaching his art. Paralleled with that was his approach to how he went about making, as well.
The Do, or Way of how to make was something that fascinated him.
We spent many hours discussing the philosophy of the work and what that meant to him.
His development of a Way of working directly that shared his view of the world, and his artistic expressions of it, was something that he diligently forged and eventually succeeded at brilliantly.
I recall him telling me once that he was surprised that anyone would be interested in how he worked?
He had honed these ideas over many years of work at the bench.
Many of those ideas surrounding the aesthetic that he so successfully synthesized. As he coined it "uncontrived contrivedness". An extremely difficult concept to grasp, but one he was very passionate about. Some of the ideas were about ergonomics and the physical side of craft and came from his early training as a Goldsmith ,but also later from the first bout with his illness and ways to overcome it.
He had a way of describing it all that was alluring and almost metaphysical, almost Zen to use a very overused term.
It was this idea of working by hand directly and intimately with the material, that he and I shared a deep connection and mutual interest in. The Art itself would seem obviously the most important, but in my mind these ideas to him were one and the same. The Art and the Art of the Art, as it were.
I think this conception and his actions upon it defined him as an Artist more than any other.
These "hand conversations" with his chosen material allowed him to create things that almost defied human endeavor. He had his heroes and saw first hand under magnification what they were capable of. I always felt that this drove him to follow that path, because he saw that it was not only possible, but also possible to bring it forward and to have real relevance in the modern world. He saw that and wanted to share that vision with the world.
Despite some of his own misgivings about this, I believe he succeeded.
In these last decades, he more than anyone in the world, has shone a bright spotlight on the art of Japanese metalwork and generated a mini Renaissance surrounding it.
His ripples have also stretched much further outward from that into many different areas of metal work, and I believe will continue to do so for a long time.
He had many isms or saying that will persist in my mind until it's my turn to follow him.
One in particular referenced craft and the use of tools and ones eyes. He'd say "Marcus, it's all the same, it's all the same."
It took me more than a few years to realize what he was saying, but I have thanks to him.
Sawing, filing, carving, scraping, looking and depending on how philosophical you want to get, life itself is "all the same".
Another one that comes up often for me is "just do the work!"
I'd be stuck on something or floundering for inspiration and I'd bring it up to him and he'd tell me again" just sit down and do the work...it'll come. Even when you don't feel like it . In fact, mostly when you don't feel like it, sit down and do the work. And if you really feel you can't sit ,clean ,sharpen and take care of your tools and studio." I adhere to this advice the best I can everyday.
It's always a struggle as any artist will tell you. In fact, he himself struggled with that very thing.
when I'm working and if I question something I'll often ask myself (WWFD) what would Ford do? and I hear him in my head.
I told him about it and joked with him about getting those wristbands made up like the ones for Jesus on a few occasions. Despite me taking the piss with him I was serious, (not about the wristbands) and still do it to this day.
He had a gift for expressing himself in a way that made what he did infectious.
He was a gifted teacher and deeply cared about his students and those around him.
I think this was something that many people underestimated about him.
He would freely give way more of himself than he should have for his own good.
Even when his health would suffer, he would push himself, especially at classes and while teaching.
Few knew how difficult it was for him just to do the day to day living.
Such was his dedication to his Art and passion to pass that on to his students. He took that responsibility very seriously and I think that was the catalyst for a few of the folks who he rubbed the wrong way through the years..
I will truly miss the early morning Skype calls with a cuppa Yorkshire Gold in hand and a good bit of toast and cheese.
In those precious months where he generously invited me into his home and studio to study and learn.
I will cherish those late, late nights where we shared way to many bottles of New Zealand White Zinfandel from the Marlborough region. We talked of life, history, philosophy, science and of course our shared passion, classical Japanese metalwork.
Looking over his shoulder while he worked and trying to soak up everything that I could.
He was encyclopedically knowledgeable and had an almost photographic memory for names, dates, schools, styles and really almost anything dealing with Japanese arts.
The amount of research he had done on his book alone would have easily gotten him a PhD twice over had he been in academia.
I'd set myself challenges of finding information that he had not already found.
In all those years that happened only a handful of times. I'd excitedly bring something to his attention and he would then list off the book and chapter where it was located. And when he didn't know he was extremely grateful to add it to his knowledge base.
Or, if there was a particular tsuba or artist that I was interested in, he would instantly know where a reference photo was in his massive library. If he didn't have it there he would know where to look. Also, where, when and how they worked, and most if not all of the Masters for that school. It was truly astounding.
There is just so much I'd like to say and I could go on and on.
I'm really not sure where to stop with all of this...
I have known him and been his student for a long time, through thick and thin. Our relationship was the most unique one I've shared with another human.
He changed the course of my life dramatically and opened up a world I now inhabit.
He's had more impact on my adult life than anyone I've ever known, save my wife and children.
How do you say goodbye to someone like that.
How do I move forward and carry on without that human safety net and wellspring of knowledge, understanding and kindness that he was to me.
I can only think of one, and that's to ask myself, what would Ford do?
I will miss you ole chap, my dear friend, my teacher.
I do not have enough gratitude to repay you all that you have given me.
10,000 thanks will not suffice.
All I can do is carry on with our work and do my best to make you and Hallam-ryu proud.
All my love and respect,
Marcus
Hi Tom, You can message me here or email at mcmetalarts@gmail.com if you are interested in commissioning a piece from me. Best regards, Marcus
