Craft work: meet London's modern antediluvians

Will Barker, 25, runs the forge at Kew Bridge Steam Museum, the longest-running forge in London. He lives nearby with his girlfriend and has been a blacksmith for seven years

‘I knew I was never going to go to university because I had no idea what I wanted to do that was worth £15,000. I left Colchester College after not doing particularly well in my AS levels — between going out with my mates or studying, I chose the fun option. My parents said I couldn’t just work in a bar, I had to start a proper career. I played the trumpet and saxophone in a ska band, and the drummer, Mark, is a blacksmith, which at 17 I thought sounded pretty cool. I hassled him for an apprenticeship, saying how good I was at sweeping and making tea, and finally he relented. It wasn’t until I got the fire on and started hitting metal that I knew this was what I wanted to do, and in the end I stayed with him for two and a half years.

One of the first jobs I did was to drill holes into the brass feet that went on the tables in The Dorchester hotel; it was very high-end interior work. It was pretty grim, I got shouted at every day, but I learned a lot; you literally have to swing that hammer all day for six months before you get one good hit. After that I was in fabrication work [general welding] in Chelmsford and then I worked with Brian Russell, a traditional blacksmith, in Durham. In 2009, when I was 21, I saw this place advertised in the back of Artist Blacksmith magazine and it was too good an opportunity to pass up, so I moved to London.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to work in an office, but that whole world confuses me, there seem to be lots of unwritten rules and politics. You have to be very open working in a forge; you can’t have underlying tension between two people when you’re lifting such heavy things and working with fire. If something falls, then you could be out of work for a couple of weeks and that’s money gone.

The industry is growing because people love the concept of handmade, one-off, bespoke pieces, especially in the centre of London where there’s always money to be spent and lots of work to be had. I’ve just been asked to create a fire pit emulating Thomas Heatherwick’s Olympic cauldron to go on the roof terrace of a new Knightsbridge flat. The bronze alone will cost around £5,000 and it will probably take me around three months of solid work.’

(willbarkerdesign.com)

Aine Hanson, 30, owner of Hanson of London in Shoreditch

‘Hanson is special because I use the traditional skills of leatherwork. I’m originally from County Limerick and going back to Ireland is a huge influence on me — people there weave, make boats, cobble shoes... My granny used to have a home business knitting Aran jumpers for Dubliners. I think it’s important to bring back something that is dying out.

My bridle leather comes from one of only four remaining traditional tanneries in the UK, just outside Birmingham. Otherwise, all patterns, cutting, stitching and embossing is done by hand, by me. I am completely self-taught. My customers are very conscious of how things are made, so being there for the whole process means I can answer all their questions. They prefer it that way: everything has a face and a story, rather than investing in something from a production line. What’s great about a small business in the recession is that you can set up a website on a shoestring budget, but it’s how you choose things and your taste that make it a really high-end product.’

(hansonoflondon.com)

Daniel Harris, 30, was a sewing machinist and started weaving two years ago. He is the founder and co-owner of the London Cloth Company

‘I was given my first sewing machine when I was 18, by an old lady who lived across the road. Then I studied sewing at the Wimbledon College of Art and for eight years have run a factory in Dalston making clothes for TV and film sets. It sounds flippant, but in 2010 I just thought, “I want to have a go at weaving.” Initially I wanted to make enough fabric for a jacket, but it quickly became apparent that I needed to work on a bigger scale. I still haven’t made that jacket.

I spent a year teaching myself to weave and sourcing looms from all over the country, and then held a weaving party for all my friends: it was carnage, I’m amazed no one lost a finger. I founded the London Cloth Company in 2010; I like to say that we are London’s premier mill… but we are London’s only mill. We sell to everyone from Ralph Lauren to smaller tailors such as SEH Kelly down the road.

This isn’t craft. Craft is something handmade that takes a fantastic amount of time. This is manufacturing. We could produce a very small amount and sell it for heaps of money, but what I’m interested in is making hand-woven fabrics affordable. My bespoke fabric is £25 a metre, and 30 metres will do a jacket, waistcoat and overcoat, plus heaps left over for cushions.