More stories

  • in

    A Years-Long Collaboration Sees a Traditional Tlingit Tribal House Return to Glacier Bay

    All images courtesy of the National Park Service

    A Years-Long Collaboration Sees a Traditional Tlingit Tribal House Return to Glacier Bay

    March 31, 2025

    ArtCraftDesignFilmHistory

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    People have lived in the area around modern-day Glacier Bay National Park, along Alaska’s rugged southern coastline, for at least around 3,000 years. Nearby, in Groundhog Bay, evidence of human habitation extends back a mindboggling 9,000-or-more years.

    In the mid-18th century, advancing glaciers forced ancestral Huna Tlingit people to abandon their homes. While they could visit certain areas occasionally to hunt and fish, the evolving conditions and ice prevented them from living there. And when the area was designated a national monument in 1925, it seemed possible the displacement would be permanent.

    “I never, ever thought that I would ever see the day, in my lifetime, that Tlingits could return to the Homeland,” says local resident Jeff Skaflestad in the opening of the National Park Service’s short film, “Sanctuary for the Future.” But in 2016, thanks to many years’ work and a collaboration between the National Park Service and the Hoonah Indian Association—the tribal government of the Huna Tlingit clans—Xunaa Shuká Hít marked a momentous homecoming.

    Both a space for tribal ceremonies and a nexus of living history, the house is a sacred place for the Indigenous community that also provides visitors the opportunity to learn about Huna Tlingit culture, history, and oral traditions.

    Xunaa Shuká Hít, which roughly translates to “Huna Ancestors’ House,” was brought to life by three Tlingit craftsmen: Gordon Greenwald, Owen James, and Herb Sheakley, Sr., who spent countless hours carving their ancestors’ stories into meticulously selected trees and wooden panels.

    In a large carving shed in nearby Hoonah, Alaska, the artisans, along with occasional help from friends and neighbors, worked on totem poles, boats, oars, and architectural details. “Having Elders come in and talk with us, just to share with us, that was a highlight of my days,” James says. Sheakley adds that as they began carving, it was an obvious decision to make their own tools, too, as a way of connecting to time-honored traditions. More

  • in

    Wycliffe Stutchbury Configures Miniature Wood Shingles into Mesmerizing Arrangements

    “The Craig,” 17th-century barn blockwork repair clad in English oak sourced, harvested, seasoned, and machined from fallen branches in adjacent woods, 13 x 4.3 meters, Abergavenny, Monmouthshire

    Wycliffe Stutchbury Configures Miniature Wood Shingles into Mesmerizing Arrangements

    February 5, 2025

    ArtCraft

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    “Always in my mind is the desire to describe the landscape of the human body and the country,” says artist Wycliffe Stutchbury, whose elegant compositions are intimately tied to nature and a sense of place. He creates handmade wood shingles made from a range of sources like bog oak, holly, and ash, arranging the pieces into elemental compositions.

    “I work with wood because it is full of surprises, and it is a miraculous material,” Stutchbury tells Colossal. “Its character, texture, fragility, robustness, and the way in which it records the passing of time… I really just see myself as an editor of nature.”

    “Hundred Foot Drain 15,” excavated bog oak, 180 x 80 centimeters, Chatteris, Cambridgeshire

    The artist is fascinated by the human relationship with landscape, or what he describes as “the struggle between our desire to impose form on the natural world and its unwillingness to conform.” No matter how we try to manipulate, use, or suppress the natural environment, it always shapes our efforts.

    Stutchbury was formally trained as a furniture maker, and when he graduated from university, he focused on making what he calls “miniature realities,” or very precise models of everyday things, which he exhibited in large, white spaces. After university, he moved into a studio with some fellow graduates. The artist realized he needed to put the nose to the grindstone and began to gravitate back to woodworking.

    “One day, I was walking home and the neighbour’s house was being re-roofed,” the artist says. “The builders had left the old roofing battens in the front garden, and I asked if I could take them away. The rain and sun and time had produced these wonderful colours on the timber.”

    With his mind still in “miniature mode,” Stutchbury imagined a small tiled roof, and a textural wall panel clad with little shingles emerged. The rest is history, as they say. Over time, he experimented with different types of foraged wood, making larger panels, multi-piece installations, tapestry-like wall hangings and, most recently, architectural interventions.

    Detail of “The Craig”

    His project “The Craig,” a title derived from the Gaelic word for rock, reinterprets the exterior cladding of a 17th-century stone barn in Abergavenny, Monmouthshire. Following the contours of the original stonework and the covered aisle through the center, Stutchbury applied hundreds of shingles in a delicately undulating pattern.

    The artist harvested material for “The Craig” exclusively from fallen branches in the adjacent woods. “The title for each work is provided by the location that the timber is found,” he says. “I seek out fallen and forgotten wood, and how it has responded to its surroundings and environment provides me with the platform to work from.”

    Stutchbury follows where the work takes him. “Although I strive to apply my own structure to these works through concentration and technical skill, I fail,” he says, adding:

    I make mistakes, my concentration wanders, I change my mind, (and) I can’t maintain a straight line or a perfect sphere. I find I am being pulled toward an intuitive way of working, like stacking firewood. So, I allow the timber I have before me to lead the way, and through a process of editing, I try and reveal the qualities and narrative held within it.

    The artist has been busy with commissions, including a trip in May to Maine—a region rich with Shingle Style architecture—where he will clad one elevation of a house on the coast. Explore more on the artist’s website.

    “Holme Fen 3,” handsawn excavated bog oak tiles hung on cotton twill, 330 x 228 centimeters

    “The Rodd,” discarded barn cladding, 127 x 79 centimeters, Prestigne, Powys

    “The Hill 10,” felled common holly, 180 x 90 centimeters, Abergavenny, Monmouthshire

    Detail of “The Craig”

    “Hundred Foot Drain 9,” excavated bog oak, 100 x 150 centimeters, Chatteris, Cambridgeshire

    “Oakhill Park,” felled ash tree, 93 x 88 centimeters, Oakhill House, Hildenborough, Kent

    “Fenland Drape,” excavated bog oak and autumn leaves on 230gsm artists linen, 270 x 270 centimeters, Chatteris, Cambridgeshire / Lucas Gardens London SE5

    “Hundred Foot Drain 9” in progress

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Previous articleNext article More