velocipede WIP

I installed my Work In Progress Velocipede in the Staystack residency exhibition at the start of the week. I also made some renderings that shoe some possible finishes. I don't think I'm actually going to do an anodized like finish in all one color like the rendering above, but it was cool to play around and start to think about this. I still have a lot to do, but I spent some time thinking about what this object represents to me. Again, I still don't have this all fleshed out, but the text below is the start of some ideas I have at the moment.

This work-in-progress jeweler’s saw is a reinterpretation and evolution of an 1870s pedal-powered velocipede scroll saw made by W. F. & J. Barnes in Rockford, Illinois; my home state. My fascination with tools is rooted in the agrarian landscape of my youth, where tractors and farm implements first sparked a deep appreciation for mechanical purpose and physical labor. Part functional tool, part kinetic sculpture, this jeweler’s saw is created to be equal parts utility and art. It stands as a living archive of the places I’ve called home, weaving together my roots in Illinois farm machinery, Milwaukee metalwork and heavy industry, and Appalachian craft traditions into a human-powered machine that celebrates the empowering act of making your own tools to create something new. This project is a direct continuation of my early reverence for how things work and the meaning of labor.

The physical creation of this object spans distinct geographies and eras of my life. I began the piece by casting its initial aluminum frame in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where I was heavily influenced by the city's rich history of manufacturing and machine tools. Now, living and working in the rural Appalachian mountains of Boone, North Carolina, the project has taken on a new resonance by tapping into the region's deep traditions of craft, self-sufficiency, and the empowering act of making purposeful tools for personal use, independent of outside systems.

What you see here at the culmination of the Staystack residency is not a polished, finished product, but a vital stage in my creative process: the physical mock-up. While I design my work in CAD, my brain inherently resists finalizing details in a digital space. Digital modeling lacks the visceral connection; the ability to touch, handle, and physically interact with the weight and mechanics of a piece. During these two weeks, I designed new components for the tool, including the drive wheels, cranks, pedals, saw arms, and necessary functional mechanisms. I also smoothed the initial aluminum frame castings, created the mold pattern for the large drive wheel to cast it in bronze, machined the cranks, and began bringing all these pieces together.

To truly evaluate the design, function, and aesthetics of an object like this, I have to bring it into the physical world. A machine with dozens of interdependent parts requires full assembly to understand. Reaching this stage, where the cast bronze wheel, custom-machined components, and stand-in shafts are joined as a complete unit, allows me to step back and observe the object as a whole. It is only in this raw, assembled state that I can begin making the instinctual refinements that complete the piece.

The intensive two weeks of the Staystack residency have allowed me to bridge the gap between digital concept and physical reality, converging my history in Woodbury, Illinois; Milwaukee, Wisconsin; and Boone, North Carolina into a tangible, working draft ready for its next evolution.