I carve stone because it makes me happier and helps me manage stress. It’s no coincidence that I started during a PhD and re-started after a major family crisis. But why does carving feel good? It’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Here's what I reckon so far...

Most artists add to create. Carvers remove. If that doesn’t sound a big deal and you haven’t carved before, give it a try, and enjoy the strange journey your brain goes on. 

Removing unwanted material from a piece of stone, wood or bone to reveal something within that previously only existed in your imagination, is a weird experience.

But for some reason, it’s so satisfying that humans have been doing it for at least 40,000 years. That’s when the earliest known sculptures in-the-round like the Venus of Hohle Fels started to be made. 

I’m not counting scratches made on cave walls, which go much further back, because psychologically I think this behaviour has more in common with drawing and painting. Carving a 3D object that you can turn around in your hands or walk all the way around is different.

As I kid I used to love drawing. I’m less keen on it now. It frustrates me in a similar way to how writing frustrates me. But I’m significantly better at writing than drawing, and it pays my bills so I carry on typing. 

Stone carving can be frustrating too, don’t get me wrong. If you accidentally break off a crucial piece of stone, that’s infuriating. Corrections are much easier to make in a drawing or in an article, than in a stone carving. And sometimes sculptures pose practical challenges which are hard to think through. But turning a sculpture, stepping back from it and walking around it usually does the trick and that feels great. 

Some stone carvers say that the sculpture is already in the block and they just release it with their chisels. I don’t think of it that way because my sculptures evolve as I work, it isn’t just sitting in there fully formed waiting to spring out. 

But the important thing is: removing unwanted stone to get to a form you have in your head is really rewarding. 

It’s a bit like clearing out clutter from a house and standing back to admire a pleasing new combination of light, space, lines and shadows. But it’s more than that because from the chaos you’ve also given birth to something new and more interesting than a tidy room, whether that’s a person, a bird, a frog, a monster, a landscape, clouds or a totem. 

Sculpture v Painting

People have argued for centuries about whether sculpture or painting are the greater art form. I think that’s a pretty silly argument – why choose? But one reason why I love making sculptures is that they have a physical presence which people can interact with in a way they can’t with 2D art.

Painters master ways to trick the eye into believing that something exists. Stone carvers can create clever effects, for instance, carving and polishing alabaster so it becomes translucent. But they can’t trick viewers as a painter can. Some might see that as a limitation for sculpture but I value stone’s hefty truthfulness. 

When you make an octopus out of stone, you haven’t made an illusion of an octopus, you’ve made an actual stone octopus which now exists in three dimensions in the world. If it didn’t exist, it wouldn’t be so heavy to pick up, it wouldn’t take up space in a room and a blind person wouldn’t be able to touch it and tell you what it is.

This is partly why humans love smashing up statues during revolutions. They are real so breaking off a stone nose, entire head or penis feels really satisfying. Scratching off paint from a canvas wouldn’t feel nearly so good.

Carving up a sweat

The physicality of carving is another part of its appeal. It gets me up on my feet, away from the dreaded laptop and using my body. Drawing, painting, printmaking and clay modelling won’t give you the same workout.

All art is good for combatting stress and lifting mood. I think carving achieves this in a unique way.

I can’t pretend it’s the easiest thing to ‘get into’. You need some tools and safety gear, some space, a suitable surface to work on and the right kind of stone. There are plenty of workshops around offering trial days or longer periods. Importantly many of these offer the chance to take something you’ve made home with you. But the other thing you need to make sculpture is TIME. 

Slow down and chill out

I am very, very impatient and perhaps the greatest thing stone carving has taught me is “chill out, take your time, don’t rush, enjoy the moment and if it goes wrong, don’t worry, just calmly ponder and adapt.”

That’s the very opposite of what our crazy TikTok-accelerated world demands of us. And that’s why carving might just be the best thing you can do for your mind, body and soul.