New Work: Coleman Residence, Part 1

I officially toppled off the social radar over the last couple of weeks due to a massive push in the shop. Our client, who was building a sharp residence on the beach at Sandpoint, had a non-negotiable move-in date, and we, being amenable metal-smiths, agreed to a nearly impossible timeframe for installation. Months ago, In the preliminary stages, Dan had briefed me on the scope of the project, but I hadn't fully grasped the looming immensity ahead. And oh, the copious amounts of bronze needed! Wonderful, finicky, lustrous, softer-than-steel bronze. It even has a funny smell and bitter taste (don't ask). I hadn't worked with bronze in any substantial capacity since the City Art Project last year, and it was a labor of nostalgic fervor.

The Sandpoint Project (hereafter known as) evoked a slightly eclectic catalogue of aesthetics, at least from a metalwork vantage. We executed lots of uncompromising straight lines, seams, and angles, yet much of the finishes were mottled, weathered, textured with a hammer, or intentionally rusted for a neo-industrial look. I hesitate to say the interior of the house was modern because the term falters in the face of specificity, but the product of our work—and the work of the carpenters, lighting technicians, and flooring guys—was peculiarly rooted in the architectural sensibilities of our time: a push towards natural light; sustainable materials; unifying geometry; openness.

(By the way, the amount of metalwork at Sandpoint makes for prohibitive blogging, thus, I'm breaking my blog-entries into parts.)

Starting with the entry handrail, here's a little tour:



Normally I balk when a client wants to powdercoat forged metal. In this instance, I thought the matte-black brought out the textured cap-rail quite nicely.


Cool little transition





Bronze surrounds for the fireplace and flatscreen television. Each of the panels have thin-gauge bronze wrapped around sheets of perfectly sized wood. The goal was to have all the corners and seams match perfectly—a tricky task, since nothing was perfectly square.




Carefully machined hinges allow the four panels to open and fold against the wall, revealing the (pending) flatscreen.




I'm pretty psyched on this handrail. I hand-peened all 30+ feet of the cap-rail, and strategized fabrication for a continuous run up three flights of stairs. Yeah, it's functionally all one piece.


Transition around corner.




Engaging step encounter at the landing.




I designed a hand-forged bracket for connecting the handrail to the wall. It vaunts an angular, somewhat savage look.