Copying hundreds of pieces was excellent rtraining, and he learnt so well that he was elected to the Association of Mater Carvers in 1981. Ian supplemented his income by teaching evening classes and giving private tuition.

Another turning point came in 1988, when he followed his girlfriend to the United States. There he found almost no commercial carving in the classical tradition, so, with Adam Thorpe, he began a business which included carving and teaching.

Ian soon realised he would be staying abroad permanently, so began to look for a location more conducive to British immigrants. He settled on San Francisco, and opened a 4,500 sq ft workshop in 1991, staffing it with woodcarvers he'd trained.

His business is now the biggest classical carving studio in North America, taking in huge architectural projects. He emplys about six woodcarvers, six stone carvers, several apprentices and a vevy of subcontractors to handle the carpentry and joinery work.

THE BUSINESSMAN
Ian told me it was "definately possible" to make a living as a woodcarver, but added that it was very hard, because it was such a labour-intensive business.

He demonstrated his point by showing me a pilaster capital, two of which would be needed for a doorway. Each capital, he said, represented about a week's work, so that by the time the entire doorway was finished, nearly a month's work would be involved.

So most of his work is for institutions, insurance jobs, or the very wealthy. His workshop recently completed a rococo fireplace which required 3,500 hours of work.

Rich and poweful clients expect everthing to be done quickly, but Ian said this is physically impossible. He tried to be tough on delivery times, not taking on a job unless he could guarantee a delivery date.

Other problems faced by businesses like his in America include the paucity of carving on public buildings and the lack of government sponsored projects. They must also spend a lot of money on advertising because the country is so vast.

Ian pays good carvers US $28 an hour, plus fring benefits such as medical insurance and paid holidays. There are also big overheads in running a workshop.

UK V USA
He said British apprentices were more familiar with the shapes to be carved and more refined in their tastes. They also had a feel for the work and were greater perfectionists. But American apprentices did not have preconceived ideas about what the end product shouls look like and how long something would take. They tended to achieve a lot more, faster, working witha refreshing openess.

Ian said Americans lived in a more 'instant' culture, wanting everything done fast. One man came to him and asked: "I want to be a master carver - should I take a one or two-week course."

He said Americans thought of carving in terms of the "Appalachian crafts of decoy, or duck carving, or caricatures, that sort of thing." But he added, quickly, that many carvers had taen such work to breath-taking heights. In England, he thought woodcarving was used more as an art form.

"I first saw carving in the small churches of Somerset, where I grew up. That carving has a wonderful wit and innocence. But American have no concept of medieval carving and are not interested in it. They are not accustomed to seeing something 'off the chisel' with that kind of sparkle. Here they say it doesn't look very finished and they expect a carving to be finely sanded. It's an area in which I can help."

Ian added that Americans were in love with undercutting - to the point where they weaken the physical structure of a piece. "It's hard for them to ge the point that they are not making an actual leaf, but the carving of a leaf."

Asked how Americans' lack of exposure to a carving tradition affected his work, he repoed: "I find I have to do a temendous amount of design work, as well as basic education. We cannot expect the interior designers or architects to do the design work because they don't have the knowledge.

"Also, they don't have the vocabulary of classical decoration, and that vocabulary is something we try to give them. An architect might say he wants 'something like this', and show you a squiggle that looks like Japanese calligraphy, when what he wants is a festoon or a drop."

THE TEACHER
He said his evening classes did not teach Zen and the Art of Woodcarving. "We don't feel our way into a piece of wood, or find a twig and carve a face into it. We get a really good piece of kiln-dried, straightgrained wood, without knots, and immediately look to the underlying structures of our carving."

He liked to start with an acanthus, knowing that by studying these leaves in their many forms, you gain an understanding of how to use the chised, and of flow and structure, which will serve you "brilliantly" in all manner of carving.

"The main thing is to find the underlying structures quickly - to see how deep you've go to go and get there quickly. Once you understand that flow and movement, it doesn't really matter whether you're carving an acanthus leaf, a lock of hair or an otter chasing a slmon."

He added: "Carving is just a series of steps, and one of the skills is to know what those steps are. Eventually you decide whn to stop, and your carving is finished."

As we took our leave, I asked Ian why he did this work? He told me: "Well, it amuses me, and the only time I whistle is when I carve. "On a more sombre note, he added: "I'm concerned in this very precarious world, that our skills and traditions are carried on at somewhere near the level of the past or even better!"