THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 17, 1995 TAG: 9512160097
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 16 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY MARY REID BARROW, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 163 lines
SOME MARRIAGES are made in heaven, but the union of Myron Curtis and Sue Barton Harris could have been crafted only in a woodworking shop.
Master wood turner Curtis can turn blocks of wood into beautiful bed posts and other rounded shapes while artist Harris can design anything you might want Curtis to turn.
``He decided he'd never learn enough art so he'd marry an artist,'' Harris said.
``If you're gonna go out to get yourself a wife, you might as well get something you want,'' Curtis responded, laughing.
The artist and artisan, married 17 years, unite their efforts on many projects in their Pungo studio and workshop. The beautiful, sculptured pieces of wood that come from Curtis' lathe are unmatched in Tidewater.
Plenty of wood turners live here - 100 of them officially belong to the Tidewater Turners - but none has achieved the recognition of his peers like Curtis.
While others turn wooden bowls and other artistic pieces, Curtis is an architectural wood turner, one of only a handful in this area.
Retired twice, once from the Navy and once from teaching, the 75-year-old craftsman looks like a much younger man and has the energy to match. He was asked recently to demonstrate his work at the annual meeting of the American Association of Wood Turners next year. The association has members from all over the world.
An architectural wood turner, like Curtis, steps in where the automatic lathe leaves off. He makes specially-designed balusters, newel posts, columns, even table legs and door knobs, that would be prohibitively expensive for a large lathe factory to turn.
If an architect, for example, has designed the newel post and balusters for a stairway in a one-of-a-kind house, Curtis might be called upon to turn the railings into reality. Or, a homeowner who is restoring an historic house might contract with Curtis to match certain architectural features. Likewise, the antique dealer who needs a replacement leg to match the others on a 100-year-old table could request that Curtis recreate the work of a wood turner from another century.
``I do turning that no one else does,'' Curtis said, ``and I have lathes that no one else has in this area.''
He's also got quite a partner.
Harris, in her 50s, is a retired art teacher. She steps into the wood turning process when clients want something special and they don't have a drawing or when they come with a photo of a column or baluster they want duplicated.
``If they bring a photo, I do a drawing,'' Harris said. ``If they bring a drawing, I might refine it.''
Curtis said if he were going to spend more than 10 minutes on a piece, he would bring his wife in to consult. ``He asks me to give advice on scale and proportion,'' Harris explained.
``You want a particular type baluster on your stairway, it will cost you more because I can't do it as cheaply as an automatic lathe,'' Curtis went on. ``Bring the idea to Sue and work out the design with her. I would turn one and you'd alter it to suit. Then I would turn out 50 or 60, which is about how many there are in a staircase.''
That day, the first of four huge, African mahogany bed posts had begun to take shape under Curtis' deft hand. The post, waiting for the finishing touches on Curtis' giant 7-foot lathe, already had been transformed from a rectangular chunk of wood to a graceful rounded post.
It was a good example of the couple's collaboration. Their client had a particular design for the bed posts in mind when she arrived, and she discussed her ideas with Harris.
``Then I did a drawing to scale with measurements on it,'' Harris said.
Curtis worked from the drawing to shape the post. The heavy rectangular chunk of mahogany not only had become rounded but its ball-shaped finial had begun to emerge on one end.
On a smaller electric lathe nearby, Curtis also was working on a leg for a Williamsburg table. He applied a turning tool called a round-nosed scraper against the leg, which was turning rapidly on the lathe. Little by little, the leg was taking shape, the wood whittled down by the friction of the tool against the spinning leg.
The whirring noise of the lathe permeated the large shop in the front yard. Fine wood dust floated in the air and sifted down on every surface.
Every so often, Curtis stopped the lathe motor and used a pair of calipers to measure the leg against the measurements of the original one. ``The rough diameter is according to pattern, but the finish is by eye,'' he said. ``It's all in experience.''
He also stopped on occasion to sharpen his steel scraper on a nearby electric grinder. Sparks flew and a high-pitched whine filled the shop.
Curtis knows his tools well because he made them by hand.
With his round-nosed scraper and another chisel-like implement called a parting tool, he also can achieve the ornamental work seen on fine turned wood. That includes shapes like the ball and pineapple on the top of posts or the classical vase shape of many balusters.
Under a film of dust, wood from a variety of species of trees is stacked around. More than 20 lathes of different sizes fill the shop, willy-nilly. The lathes give him the flexibility to shape everything from a tiny door knob to a huge column. All the lathes are electric except for one antique over in a corner, which operates with a foot treadle.
``He collects tools and wood like folks collect stamps,'' Harris said.
``Wood is special because it's warm and has texture and color,'' Curtis said. ``You have a feeling it's alive.''
Curtis' favorite wood to turn is Brazilian rosewood, but it is no longer available. Now, he usually works with red maple.
``Wood that's hard and fairly dense is important,'' he said.
You don't have to go any farther from the workshop than across the driveway to their home to find finished proof of Curtis' and Harris' love of wood and their talent and skill. Made completely of wood and built almost completely by them, the house is an exquisite showcase for the beauty and versatility of woods of all kinds.
Wood is everywhere, even in the bathrooms and kitchen. There's no plaster to be seen.
``She designed it, and we built it,'' he went on. ``She and I together did about 60 percent of the work, and we were both working at the time.''
They did not install the plumbing and electricity, but Harris even lovingly sanded and finished all the wood paneling and floors throughout the house herself. Several pieces of furniture were designed by Harris and built by Curtis. Then, Harris went into her studio and wove the fabric for the cushions.
Harris' studio is in the house and her art ranges far afield from wood turning. She gets involved in a little bit of everything, from weaving to pottery, from jewelry to wood carving.
On the other hand, Curtis' roots in wood are as strong as the roots of his favorite red maple tree. Born in Knoxville, Tenn., he began working with his carpenter dad as a youngster. By the time he was 6 or 7, Curtis was making flower boxes and selling them to neighbors for a nickel apiece. By the time he was in high school, he was working regularly for his dad.
Woodworking was on hold while he served in the Navy. When he retired in 1960, he decided to return to his craft. He began teaching woodworking at Kempsville High School in 1966 and later taught drafting at the Vocational Technical school. Harris was teaching art in the Norfolk Public Schools when she and Curtis were married 17 years ago.
Now they are both retired, although their efforts belie the fact. Harris still creates some art work apart from Curtis, and the couple teach seminars together on designing and turning wooden bowls.
``This is supposed to be a hobby,'' Harris said.
``Some people retire and play golf,'' Curtis explained. ``I like to turn like another man likes to play golf!'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photos, including color cover, by D. KEVIN ELLIOTT
Myron Curtis and his wife, Sue Barton Harris, built their house near
Sandbridge.
Sue Barton Harris, a retired art teacher, designed this chair and
many of the other pieces of furniture in the couple's unique home.
Myron Curtis and his wife, Sue Barton Harris, in their home near
Sandbridge. The house is a showcase for the beauty and versatility
of woods of all kinds.
``Master'' wood turner Myron Curtis outside the couple's home. ``She
designed it and we built it,'' he says.
Curtis sculpts a piece of wood in his shop.
Retired art teacher Sue Barton Harris sits in an ususual chair she
designed and Curtis built. The pair collaborated on several pieces
of furniture in their home, and Harris even wove the fabric for the
cushions. Her talents also include weaving, pottery and jewelry
making and wood carving.
by CNB