Worlds Colliding– Martin Johnston
Words–
Angus Goozée
@breathing_rooms
Muse–
Martin Johnston
@martin_johnston_
Following an afternoon swim in the Brunswick River, it’s golden hour when I show up at Martin Johnston’s wood shop in the little town of Billinudgel. A big goanna scurries off into the scrub next to the shed as I let myself in. I find Martin finishing off what I learn is the collaborative effort between himself and a Japanese architect who’d commissioned the table. It’s beautiful. Solid American Oak, clean original lines, minimalist, modern, seamless joinery, a timeless piece. He tells me how he had to hand cut each pin holding the tenons into their mortises because he couldn’t find any dowel to match the timber. He tells me how the brass bracing and bolts that support the top onto its elegant frame were hand forged and tapped by a local bike manufacturer. He shows me the underside of the table, its flawless finish mirrors that of the top, and although no-one will ever know that, he tells me that he would. This is a place where the devil does not live in the details, this is a level of craftsmanship where nothing gets overlooked, and frankly, I’m kind of in awe as we sit down with a beer for a chat.
Where did this all start? How did you get into making furniture?
Well, I guess the real story starts at the beginning. I did my apprenticeship with my father and he was a very successful cabinet maker, really respected here in the area. They’d moved up from Sydney, doing the whole post Morning Of The Earth search for greener grass thing. I was about fifteen so I started tinkering about in his workshop, making skateboards and ramps and stuff like that, which was all pretty fun.
At high school I guess I didn’t have a heap of direction, so Dad threw me into the deep end with an apprenticeship, which seemed pretty intense at the time, but now, in hindsight I know that completing it was probably the best thing I ever did. But to be honest, at the time I didn’t really like the job and was looking for something else. I wanted something more creative so I started shaping surfboards and I was also really getting into my photography. I invested a fair bit of money into that, I bought a decent camera, and I wanted to travel and shoot, so I filled a backpack and my partner and I left on an around the world ticket, through The States, Europe, Northern Africa, and then into India. When we were in London, we worked for Urban Outfitters in a huge five story department store. Down below, in the basement of the building was this workshop where they made all the shop fittings. There we were, these hillbillies from Billinudgel, and we were rubbing shoulders with all of these cool and interesting people who were making furniture for the shop. They were really talented guys, and they just had this really inspiring way of making things. They brought that creative element to the process of cabinet making that I was really hungry for. I’d found it making surfboards and I’d found it taking photos, but until then I hadn’t really experienced it through cabinet making, so suddenly my whole perspective had changed. I saw how I could apply my traditional skills and have fun designing and creating modern furniture. Also, my bus stop at the time was right out the front of a really big, high end furniture shop. Everyday I was looking into this warmly lit, beautifully designed building, with all of these incredible famous pieces, and I guess that was like dangling the cherry in front of me, showing me what was possible. When we landed back home nine years ago, I just got straight back into the workshop, got the ball rolling and it’s just been slowly getting bigger and bigger ever since.
I’m always battling with [my ethos of sustainable practices] internally and constantly thinking about ways of reducing our waste as a business. I understand that it all comes down to my decisions around what products I choose to work with.
How did you find that transition, moving from London back to Billinudgel, and what were the challenges in setting up your business here?
I often laugh at that now, being here in Billinudgel, I really feel like I couldn’t be any further away from that life. Growing up here and having always lived in this area, when I first started to get into furniture, it was fairly apparent that I wouldn’t be able to stay here. I always thought I’d have to move to Melbourne or Sydney to make a name for myself. But in the last ten years, or even less, this area has jumped forward. It hasn’t moved slowly, it has literally just boomed. To the point where a small furniture business, that makes one-off pieces in little old Billinudgel can actually really flourish. It’s sort of weird to be in this situation, but I feel really lucky that I am, and now it seems like a strong point to be based here in Byron. It feels like the whole world wants to come to you.
When I talk to my dad about it, he is completely perplexed by the current state of the furniture industry here. For an old school tradesman like him, to think that I’m dealing with an architect from Japan, making a table here in Billinudgel that’s going down to Broken Head, he just can’t even consider how that works. I’m blown away by it too to be honest. It’s wild. The Byron Shire that I know, it was once upon a time this sleepy coastal village that had nothing much going for it but really good waves. Now, all of a sudden there are so many interesting people here, and people who are excited to support the arts, and of course, we now have the internet, which means there’s some bloke in Osaka who now knows how to say Billinudgel. So living and working here is a breeze compared to what it used to be.
Are you wanting more of these international clients?
While I’d like to get more international work, at the same time, I’d like to go down the street and see a café or a restaurant filled with my pieces, or bump into someone at the markets and have them say “Hey, your dining table is doing so well in our home.”
I’d like to remain a part of the local community just as much as I like being recognised by the national or international community.
I found myself in IKEA the other day, and it is insane to see how cheap that stuff is getting. I was thinking that while it might seem cheap for us, someone must be paying for it, whether it be the planet or the underpaid workers doing the manufacturing. Do you think this new appreciation for bespoke, heirloom furniture is coming forward as a resistance to the questionable ethics behind our disposable culture?
One hundred percent! I think everyone was excited maybe twenty years ago that you could get stuff cheap and quick. But people know the quality now. People understand that just because you can click a button and have it delivered tomorrow, doesn’t mean it’s going to still be around for the next tomorrow. People were excited by it, but now they’re kind of over it. I mean the pieces that we make, we pick our materials because they are durable and they are going to age gracefully, the finishes will only get better and better with time. We run a traditional pricing setup, in the sense that we buy the materials, we do the time, and that’s how we price a piece. But, the family who buy it, they might keep it for multiple generations and every time it gets used, they’re saving money. The initial price might shock people who have become accustomed to pop-out products, but when you consider the fact that it’s going to be around for such a long time, in the long run you’re actually saving a fortune.
What’s your ethos around sustainable practices?
I’m always battling with this internally and constantly thinking about ways of reducing our waste as a business. I understand that it all comes down to my decisions around what products I choose to work with. For example, with our finishes, we try to use oil based or water based finishes as opposed to polyurethanes. This not only helps us breathe when we’re on the job, it also means we’re not emitting toxic, poisonous fumes into the air. The water-based products are better for you and way better for the environment so we encourage our clients to take on that small extra cost for the sake of the planet. With all of our solid timber pieces, we’re working with beautiful and expensive material, so we don’t waste any of it. All of the offcuts end up getting used in future projects, and the really small pieces are used as firewood to cook the stove when we go camping or light a fire on a winter’s night. So essentially there’s no waste when it comes to solid timber furniture. It’s really about educating our clients on using the better products to help steer the ship in a greener direction. My theory with regards to waste is that if we design it better, and we build it better, then we’re essentially not having to throw it out because it’s lasting so much longer.
Looking into the future, how do you think the current generation of furniture designer/makers in Australia are going to be characterised?
When I was travelling, I bumped into a lot of Americans and my eyes were really opened to the fact that people overseas were excited by our fashion, art and music scenes here in Australia and I think equally with our furniture makers. There are so many design fairs, books and magazines that are focusing on Australian and New Zealand designers now and they’re only getting stronger as the industry moves forward. I think it’s a good thing that we’ve got these quiet achievers here. We’ve always been a working class country, we prove ourselves through hard work and making really good quality pieces and now we’re being recognised for it so it’s exciting. I’d like to think I’m part of that by making things well, things that look cool, and things that are going to be around for a long time. They’re the boxes I’m trying to tick and if that’s becoming the trend, then great, but that’s not why I’m doing it, I’m just doing it because it feels like the right approach.
Originally published in Paradiso Issue 11