Sport as Craft / Craft as Sport

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I was always labeled the artistic kid, but I was also pretty into sports. I grew up in Dartmouth, NS where sprint canoeing is a very popular, and very competitive sport. I began to paddle when I was eight years old, and it came to define every summer until I was 18, when I decided to go to art school. 

Paddling c-2 in 2003

I was beyond excited to break free from what I felt was my conflicted identity as an athlete/art-kid, and to dive fully into the “art world”. I wanted to leave behind the gruelling paddling practices, anxiety-ridden regattas, and loathsome strength training sessions that had occupied so much of my teenage-hood as a competitive sprint canoeist; I was ready for my new life simply as an “artist”.  

Little did I know, a lot of the tenacity and drive that I would bring to my studies at NSCAD and onwards to building my career as a jewellery designer would be credited to the years I spent playing sports and training as a competitive athlete.

I first entered the metal studio in my second year at NSCAD having signed up for an intro jewellery course as a “fun” elective. I realized, almost immediately, that this was not a course that could be breezed through without rigour and discipline. It was like kind of like a sport, and I was hooked. We started from the very beginning, learning how to use basic tools to perform very foundational tasks like sawing, filing, and soldering. It seemed a lot more frustrating than fun to me at first, but I understood that these were just the basics that needed to be learned thoroughly until one could move on to more complex techniques.

Over the past few months I’ve been learning how to skateboard, and also tried indoor rock climbing–two completely new-to-me activities. In learning these without any prior experience, I was reminded my of my early days in the metal studio, and I suddenly became very aware of the many parallels between sport and craft.

Building a solid foundation.

I was eight years old when I first learned how to paddle, but it wasn’t until I was probably twelve or thirteen that I had a solid understanding of the basics, and actually felt like a confident paddler. There’s no way I could expect to focus on speed and racing competitively until I could simply balance in and steer a canoe. Similarly, I couldn’t expect to make durable, wearable pieces of jewellery until I I had a good grasp on foundational techniques like fabrication and finishing. In both sport and craft, there is a huge amount of patience in pacing oneself to build a solid foundation.

Repetitive practice

I don’t think there is any sport that can be learned and improved upon without repetitive practice. It’s essential to basically every stage of learning, whether a novice, or seasoned expert, and this applies easily to both sport and craft.

When I trained as a competitive paddler, repetition was a common theme for most practice sessions. An example might be 8 x 500 metres at a sprint pace, striving in each time to improve speed. Through repetition, the body can build muscle memory; over time movements become increasingly familiar, more fluid, and one can focus on optimizing strength, both physical and mental. 

I have been making jewellery for over ten years now, and repetitive practice is still front of mind. There are certain tasks I perform almost everyday, such as sanding or soldering, and some only every so often, like setting stones. The everyday tasks have become almost second nature, but I still need to focus to ensure accuracy, and avoid sloppiness, both of which only come with practice. The techniques I perform less often require much more attention, and often the need to be performed many, many times before satisfactory results are achieved. 

Through my recent attempts to learn how to skateboard, repetition has been crucial. I am learning to trust my body to move and balance on a board, and these physical motions only become more comfortable through repetition.

Cross-training

Engaging in other activities that compliment and enhance performance in one’s main activity is known as cross-training. This is a term used primarily in the context of sports, but I find it particularly applicable to the context of craft. 

My first year of art school was filled with so much drawing. Foundational drawing courses were required for all students in their first year, no matter which discipline they planned to focus on. Although I didn’t love these drawing courses, they taught me how to see differently, to observe and assess my surroundings differently, and to become more comfortable with facing a blank page. I don’t draw much these days, but I engage in other forms of craft “cross training" like painting and making paper models, both of which often inform my jewellery designs.

When I used to paddle, running was emphasized as a way to build endurance. Even today, I still make running a priority in my life; it has an important part of my routine, providing a form of mental “cross-training” that helps me find focus and clarity in my studio. Cross training comes in all forms, and doesn’t need to be a physical activity; it could be reading, listening to or playing music. It doesn’t matter what form it takes as long as it helps you access a different side of thinking or being.

Goal setting

I have found goal setting to be one of the most helpful tools in improving performance in both sport and craft. Choosing a benchmark to work towards provides beacon in the distance to anchor motivations. Without a goal it can be difficult to see improvement, or find satisfaction in ones efforts. In sport, goals could be speed or technical mastery. I recently reached my goal in skateboarding of skating downhill a favourite path. I felt proud of my achievement, and am now working towards being able to skate the bowl at the skatepark (a loftier goal).

In craft, my goals are constantly shifting; sometimes I have a goal for what I hope to accomplish in the studio on a given day. At certain times of year, my goals focus on production volume. I recently had a technically difficult piece to solder, and I found myself thinking of lining my boat up at the beginning of a race, and tried to recall the mental space I would occupy during a tough competition. Conjuring the focus of trying to chase down a big goal in sport actually helped me tackle a challenging piece in the studio.

Inspire and aspire

Throughout my time as a paddler, there were so many people I looked up to as role models–my coaches, my competitors, my teammates. I learned so much from those around me who worked hard, raced fast, and showed up to practice every single day. As I got older, I’m sure I likely played a role model to many of the younger paddlers who were finding their balance in a boat like I once did. 

As a jeweller, and as a business owner, I’ve been very fortunate to have many role models that have been critical to my career. As others have been so generous with their knowledge and encouragement, I try to be as open and giving as I can. It’s important to look forward and aspire to do and be better at my craft, but it’s equally important to set and example for and inspire others. 

In both sport and craft, the learning is endless, which is perhaps why both excite me. I used to fight the split I felt in myself by indulging both my athletic and artistic inclinations, but now, finally, I see how closely connected they truly are.