Date: Fri 17-Sep-1999

Publication: Bee

Author: JEFF

Quick Words:

Tony-Boucino-pen-carver-craft

Full Text:

Carving Pens With Character

(with photo)

BY JEFF WHITE

Underneath a red Marine Corps hat adorned with a variety of pins and flags,

Tony Boucino peddles something unique to craft show enthusiasts: ball point

and fountain pens that he carves from wood.

Shaded from the sun that held the Middle School's front lawn captive last

Saturday, Mr Boucino twirls the circular display cases his pens rest on like a

multicolor pinwheel. "If there is anything I can cut, I'll do it," he tells

me.

The 65-year-old is a quiet, unassuming man, who would rather stand in the

background and allow his pens to sell themselves. If a customer shows interest

in one, he picks the pen up, cradles it in a cupped hand, and traces its

nuances with an index finger.

"Doesn't this have beautiful color?" he'll ask an interested customer. "It

really has some character to it."

For over ten years now, Mr Boucino has been turning wood, though at first not

pens but rather simple bowls and candlesticks, which he admits he never sold;

he just gave them away as gifts.

"A guy that I used to get my wood from asked if I ever thought of cutting a

pen," recalls Mr Boucino. "Then he showed me one that he carved."

The first pen he turned was a gift he gave to his wife of 41 years, Agatha. He

brought his next few pens into work, selling them to co-workers, while

interest steadily mounted. Soon, the word spread, and as he recollects, orders

started coming in fast and furious.

Since that day, Mr Boucino has been carving pens; for eight years now he has

worked out of his basement workshop in Torrington, smoothing and shaping

exotic woods from all ends of the world.

And after eight years, he has gotten the process down to science. "It starts

with a block of wood," he instructs, his tattooed arms reaching for the model

he uses to show the process of turning wood into pen.

"The pieces of wood are cut into small squares called blanks, and I drill each

blank through the center.

"I insert brass tubes down these blanks, which is important, because without

the tubes, the wood would break in half in someone's pocket.

"After that, I just chisel until each is the size and shape I want. I sand the

wood and polish it, but I don't use any finish, expect for some wood turner's

wax."

A process as intricate as forming a pen from wood might seem long and

involved, but Mr Boucino smiles when he admits it takes him a half hour for

each pen. That is, of course, barring any breakage, which he admits, more

reluctantly, does happen.

In one week, he can produce as many as 50 pens.

The different woods from which Mr Boucino whittles his crafts have flavorful

names: teak, cherry burl, old sage orange, pink purple corian, voodoo red,

Bahama cherry and emerald.

He makes pens from stained birches, Californian olive trees, and African black

wood. Each pen has distinct characteristics, Mr Boucino will tell you, thanks

largely to his insistence on leaving in every blemish that mars the original

wood.

Burl, for example, is actually a disease in a tree, but Mr Boucino points out

that when he works with it in his carving, the diseased part of the wood

actually lends color and texture to the pen.

Defects in the wood "give the pen some character," he'll tell you.

In a society where mass production is the modus operandi of large, impersonal

corporations that seem to put more stock in the bottom line than in their own

customers, Tony Boucino's work is a bit anachronistic; something customers

find a little refreshing. Mr Boucino turns the ordinary into the unique.

A lot of people plague him with questions: Are you on the Internet? Do you

make brochures? Mr Boucino brushes these questions aside. "My answer to them

is that I'm retired. I worked for 40 years. I don't want this to be like a

job. It's a hobby."

"I cut because I just love turning wood. I love making pens."

Still, to supplement his retirement, Mr Boucino and his wife travel to craft

fairs every other week, after he has had the opportunity to refresh his

supplies.

These craft shows mean more than money for Mr Boucino, however; they are an

opportunity to talk with people, and spend time with Agatha, who keeps track

of his finances and books his craft shows.

"For most crafters, it's a labor of love. If you had to put a dollar and cents

to [the craft], you wouldn't sell it. That's how I feel. I love it.

"If my pens are that great, I want everyone to be able to have one of my pens.

I'm told that [my prices] are too cheap."

His offerings also included fountain pens made from moose and deer antler, and

wooden perfume applicators.

The pens made by Mr Boucino's hands form a full cast of different characters,

each taking on a distinct identity from a tinge more smoothing here, a little

more chiseling there.

He knows each piece of wood by smell, and he can tell when a piece is about to

break by the sound. He revels in the mysteries each "blank" presents before he

has his way with it. You never know what the wood will look like when you

start, he says.

"Now you take cherry and oak, they make beautiful furniture, but they don't

make a beautiful pen. But you take cherry burl, or some other wood that has

disease in it where a worm or bug has gotten inside it, then you have a

beautiful pen."

The parallels to the human condition are not lost on the man who draws joy and

beauty from the realm of imperfection.

"You can watch wood take shape and color very quickly when you're turning it.

You can start to see grain changes as soon as you start turning," he says.

"Every piece of wood is different; you can cut two pieces from the same tree,

and they would be different."

He knows that people, like the various woods of trees, are battered and blown

every which way, and it is their own unique life's experience that reveals

their true beauty.

"In that way wood is a lot like people; we all might look the same, but we're

all different."