Let’s have a Coffee on a Moroccan Coffee Table…

After my Mom’s funeral I am back now. I miss her dearly and I think that will never go away. But the grief has lightened because I have her always with me, each day. If I only could have those little chats face to face instead of one-way. But maybe she can hear me and is smiling at my silly thoughts and things I am doing. I think she always thought me to be crazy and wondered where I would have got this from…

There was a real artist in the family. My grandfather was a painter. Unfortunately I cannot ask anyone about him any more because there is no-one left to be asked. There is not a trace of him – he died early – or his works because everything was lost in the WW I. That’s the sad thing. My Mom had told me that he once gave a painting as a gift for an anniversary to the Swedish royal couple (Queen Victoria) around the turn of the last century. But unfortunately she could not give me any details. So the chance to learn anything about him is lost.

Why is it always like this that we do not really care about family history as long as we are young? When we are young we are much too absorbed finding our own path, solving all those little problems a teenager normally has and we do not care much about the lives of the elder, not to mention the ones who are long dead. And then, when the interest awakens, it is too late to ask in most cases. One of the reasons may be, that today’s families tend to be small or scattered over huge distances. Often kids do not even really know their grandparents because they do not live together any more. The family bonds are torn in today’s societies.

Possibly I inherited the genes of my grandpa whom I have never met. He was probably working like a horse but never became a rich man, although he could support a family. That’s not bad either – isn’t it?

Now back to this Moroccan table. I think it really was a crackpot idea because it was painstakingly much work! You probably would not see it if I hadn’t told you but I would never do such a piece of furniture as this one again. The reason? Each panel is one single piece of wooden board and the patterns have been sewn out and carved by hand! 😯

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For each little opening I had to drill a little hole first with the power drill in order to be able to place the saw blade of the jigsaw into the machine. This meant mounting – unclamping – mounting – unclamping. I went nearly nuts with this…

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For this little coffe table I have been inspired by Moroccan furniture styles of course, which I love so much. Moroccan interiors and decoration seem to be the materialization of the fairy tales of the Arabian Nights and I have always loved fairy tales. I simply cannot get rid off these sentimentalities completely and so they break through from time to time in my work. Maybe it’s these childhood memories that never disappear completely and that make our lives rich and full of inspiration.

At first sight this little table seems to be unspectacular but then you can see it is quite unusual: it can be opened when you remove the plate. Thus you can use this little piece of furniture also as a small screen to hide things f.e. if a visitor turns up surprisingly…

The small table consists of 6 panels which are connected to one another with hinges at 5 places. The 6th place is open – held together by the plate which is attached to the panels with wooden dowels glued into the wood.

The peculiarity of this table is that each panel is one single piece of wood. The open work has been cut with a fret saw and handcarved afterwards. I have used two different designs for the panels alternately.

The plate is made from bonded birchwood not pine as the panels which means the plate is absolutely smooth, has a fine grain and does not warp even when there is some moist on it. The polish with beeswax is a perfect protection against stains.

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