Exit, pursued by wicker bear…
How did animal figurines made from willow become an interiors must-have, asks Lucy Holden
If you go to the men’s bathroom at Mayfair members’ club Annabel’s, you’re sure of a big surprise. Instead of a teddy bear’s picnic, you’ll find a sharpclawed, 7ft brown bear clasping a huge mirror. Woven entirely by hand over a painstaking three-week period – and costing thousands of pounds – the bear is an example of the UK’S most fashionable new art form: willow sculpture.
In the past five years, willowcraft has exploded, with the National Trust, Chelsea Flower Show, fashion pop-ups and even the producers of Game of Thrones commissioning one-off works. Willow-sculpting workshops, which are seen both as trendily eco and mindfully meditative, are selling out.
And if you can’t find a spot for a giant woven woodland animal in your home or garden – more fool you if you can’t… – there are myriad ways to add a little wicker to your existing decor.
The bear for Annabel’s nightclub was made by willow sculptor Woody Fox (nice to see nominative determinism at work…) at his Devon studio, where he has been working for five years. “I signed on to a local basket-weaving course and found myself among 20 equally bored housewives,” he says. “But I found that willow is an amazing material to work with. And it comes in so many natural colours: a dark chocolate steamed willow you can use for deer or reindeer antlers, or a white willow for a fox’s chest. You can add eyes, and create such movement in a pose.”
Once considered ornaments you’d pick up at a garden centre, Fox says willow sculptures are now considered an art form that pays great attention to detail: “A lot of people want to save up in order to buy one, because they’re seen now as a beautiful piece of art for the wall, in the same way a painting is.”
Indoor sculptures, which are the most detailed, aren’t cheap, with a deer or bull head ranging between £250 and £800, and taking up to two weeks to weave. Bigger animals, such as a 7ft marlin fox created last year, come with price tags of around £600, and he once made a huge £3,000 Clydesdale horse.
Two years ago, visitors to Kew Gardens’ Artful Autumn outdoor sculpture exhibition may have posed for selfies by Fox’s “treelings”, a series of wicker figures in tai chi poses. “The organisers burst out laughing when they first saw my designs,” Fox says, “then they realised they were perfect.” A few years before that, in 2013, he experienced a “rush on badgers” after he made four for a nursery’s Chelsea Flower Show garden; he had to make another 30 for people who’d seen the show and wanted to take one home.
Former British fashion designer Joe Casely-hayford asked Fox for three “creatures” for a Dover Street Market pop-up in Tokyo that were “completely off-the-wall”. “He wanted ‘Pagan mythology meets Ignazio Jacometti’, so I wove spindly bodies with giant animal heads that had spikes and antlers everywhere.” Fox didn’t realise he was working for someone with an OBE until he googled the designer’s name and realised Casely-hayford “used to go for dinner with Princess Di”.
Serena de la Hey, a willow sculptor most famous for her Willow Man, a 39ft-high sculpture striding over fields next to the M5 in Somerset, is often credited with championing the material in the Nineties. But it’s only recently that a willow sculpture has become a must-have.
Perhaps one reason for its increasing cool is that, as a medium, wicker is completely sustainable. “I think people like the idea of faux taxidermy and see willow sculptures as more environmentally sound than animal trophy heads,” says Bob Johnston, 49, who’s based in Bangor in Northern Ireland and considered another of the UK’S top willow sculptors. “I sent two willow Highland cowheads to Switzerland this week, and I’ve had commissions from Canada and America, too. For the last five months, I’ve been working on three dragons and a 3ft throne interwoven with 200 swords for the Belfast premiere of the final series of Game of Thrones. The film industry love it.”
He also sees the pull of willow workshops, and agrees baskets are the best place to start if you’re interested in learning how to weave. “Willow can be difficult because each withy (the strong but flexible stem) naturally wants to straighten, and some species can be quite tough, so you need to learn how to curve it. But it’s an incredibly meditative art that’s used by occupational therapists because it’s great for hand-eye coordination and memory; you’re using both hands to create something functional, which is very satisfying, and it’s a beautiful material with a stunning smell.”
Unsurprisingly, such workshops are selling out. Sara Holmes, 55, and her daughter Hanna, 36, run Willow Twisters, offering daylong classes in Surrey (£145, willowtwisters.com).
“Fifteen years ago, when I started, there were just a handful of sculptors, and a few wanting to learn each month. But now we’re fully booked, and have launched an online course for those who can’t get into the workshops.
“People are looking to get back to nature and so anything natural; sustainable and rustic appeals hugely. Weaving, sewing and binding is so relaxing. I call it the willow zone.”