Forest Heart Wood Picture

In many common approaches to marquetry, wood effectively is devalued to a color palette. But for me, each piece of wood has an independent visual language, one that was formed in the nature even before the artist was born. So, on selecting the woods, I had an approach based on three fundamental characteristics: color, texture, and pattern. Along with these three characteristics, I also considered other features such as color contrast, complementary colors, and color tonality. However, the main difference was that I did not try to use wood to add color; rather, I tried to reveal the natural capacities of wood itself. Furthermore, an important procedure in creating this marquetry work was accepting the unexpected. For instance, I initially decided to have the bird yellow, with only the tail remaining like the initial image. But then I came across pieces of wood whose natural patterns wonderfully resembled the patterns of the ending feathers of the wing. Although their color was close to the copper tonality, the visual power of these natural patterns was fine enough to make me abandon my earlier decision. In another step, a crack resulted from the tree's natural healing process had completely naturally shaped a pattern like the bird's shoulder, creating a sense of volume and prominence without any human intervention. Such moments are very important to me, for they show that the artist is not always the sole creator of the image; at times, the nature, too, plays an active role in the process of creation. For this reason, I believe that in Naqshbandi, the nature is not simply the subject of the work; rather, it is one of the co-creators of the work.

The "double-cut" technique was the result of an effort to overcome limitations of conventional methods in marquetry where pieces are commonly cut independently based on pre-designed patterns and then placed next to each other without requiring artists to interact creatively with their work. Besides, although such a method could sound very efficient at work, it can generally limit the capacities of wood to react freely to natural circumstances, and sometimes subtle traces of the cutting lines remain noticeable at the joining borders of the pieces. On the other hand, by the "double-cut" technique, each piece complements the previous pieces, and simultaneously each cut is in line with the border of the new piece. As a result, pieces fit in the most precisely and without noticeable lines left. In other words, each cut that is made by the artist is considered twice in the work procedures. If pattern-based methods are mostly designed to reproduce an image, the "double-cut" technique has been developed to discover an image. However, technical accuracy is not the main feature that makes the "double-cut" significantly different. Eliminating total dependence on fixed cutting patterns allows the artist to look back at previous cuts and pieces repeatedly throughout the work procedures and make new decisions based on newly formed wood patterns and also based on the connections that emerge between the wood pieces; rather than deciding based on pre-designed picture patterns. In fact, this technique was developed to meet a philosophical need: If the image is to be discovered from among wood patterns, the process of work must also allow for discovery. From this point of view, not only is the "double-cut" an executive innovation, it is also a necessary technical tool for realizing Naqshbandi's view.

To begin with, the word "create" is used in this question while if I were to describe my personal experience in this work honestly, I would have to say that while doing "Forest Heart", I played the role of an observer, explorer, and interpreter rather than a creator. As for the calculated approach and the mathematical precision, the main work was about realizing the material behavior, the geometry of cuts, forming connections, and the visual impact. But the most important part was observation; observing what nature had recorded in the wood before we were even there. During recent years, we have occasionally encountered the concept of "co-creation" in contemporary arts and design literature; an idea that claims creativity is not only the product of human will, but also the result of their interaction with other complex systems. For me, wood is one of these systems. Each piece of wood holds a set of biological, environmental, and historical decisions. So when I work, I leave some of the decision-making process to what the material reveals to me. For this reason, in Naqshbandi, the artistic intuition lies not in imposing a predetermined image, but in recognizing and reading the hidden relationships that already exist in the material. Then, if I were to summarize this process in one single sentence, I would say that "I do not create the image but that I discover it within the wood heart". From this perspective, "Forest Heart" is more than a simple wood picture, it is an exposition of connections that have existed in the nature since before my presence in the world, and I have only interpreted them into a language understandable to human vision.

This question actually addresses the core of my research and artistic activity. In many international references and associations, marquetry as an art is known as "painting with wood". Such a definition is entirely understandable from a historical point of view since in fact, a significant part of what we might consider the marquetry tradition today, has relied on selecting natural wood colors to recreate an image. However, the question is, if the best version of an image exists in the original photograph or painting, why we should ever try to recreate it in wood. Looking for an answer to this question led to the establishment of the "Naqshbandi" style. In Naqshbandi, wood is not a color palette, but a visual language. By applying conventional methods, the natural patterns and textures of wood turn into pieces that can simply reproduce an image whereas in Naqshbandi, it is reversed, which means the image is used to reveal the visual capacities of wood. For this reason, I do not think of Naqshbandi as a simply new technique in marquetry, but as a proposal to rethink the nature of marquetry. A proposal that raises new questions like:Is wood only a palette of colors? Can it ever hold meanings, memories, and narratives? If we agree with the second response, then the marquetry transforms from "painting with wood" to "reading wood". In my view, this could be the main difference between Naqshbandi and other common approaches to marquetry.

The answer to this question can be sought at the crossing lines between art, the physics of light, and the biology of wood. A significant part of what we perceive as the color or the texture of wood is in fact the result of the link between light and how cells form in wood. Throughout years of studying and hands-on experience, I have learned that the angle of cuts can dramatically change the behavior of light. In some angles, more light is reflected, creating a kind of glow, while in other angles, the same pieces looks dull and dark. Furthermore, the position of annual rings, the direction of growth, the texture of fibers, and even some biological processes such as the healing of natural wounds in trees can create different visual qualities in the wood. In Naqshbandi, these features are studied not as incidental events, but as core elements of visual expression. For this reason, the depth found in "Forest Heart" is not the result of any added physical volume, but rather the outcome of the conscious use of light, textures, and natural patterns in the woods. That is to say, I have not tried to add a third dimension to the surface of my work; rather, I have tried to reveal this capacity from within the heart of my material itself. Such a view brings up once again the same fundamental question that what wood has to offer before the artist becomes involved in the co-creation. I would say an important part of my work in Naqshbandi is looking for the answer to this question.

One of the most important differences between my view and the common view on wood is that I do not consider wood to be a completely silent and static material. In wood biology, many of colors, textures, and changes are the result of complex connections between the plant growth, environmental conditions, fungi, moisture, and time. Each tree is a kind of biological archive that records its life history in its body. For instance, some species of symbiotic fungi can produce unique color patterns in wood under certain conditions. Factors such as humidity, temperature, and nutrients directly influence this process. While doing research, I found out that understanding such processes can expand the range of visual possibilities in using wood. As an instance, the maple wood — which originally features a light, yellowish base — can, under certain conditions, take on shades of gray, blue, or green. To me, such transformations are not merely changes in color; rather, they are part of the material’s organic narrative. This view can bring Naqshbandi closer to areas beyond traditional marquetry, to fields in which biology, time, and nature also participate in the formation of the image. Therefore, as I work, wood is not just a raw material, but a creature that has been narrating its own story for years before entering the artist's workshop.

Perhaps my major discovery was that wood is much more complex than is typically considered in marquetry. Through study and practical experience, I came to the conclusion that wood has at least nine independent visual features, each of which can play a role in the formation of the image, including: color, pattern, texture, fiber direction, light, darkness, growth pattern, natural repair effects, and connections resulting from cutting angles. But what surprised me most was that these features often have an influence beyond human imagination and planning. In fact, in many cases, the final work is not the result of a precise performance of an initial idea, but rather the outcome of a dialogue between the artist and the material. Such an experience made me believe that creativity to some extent exists in the nature, and not just in the human mind. These days, even in some new computational design research, such as projects in studying the role and texture of wood in marquetry images, we are witnessing a growing interest and consideration in these capacities. For me, finishing "Forest Heart" was more than the end of another project, it was rather the beginning of a journey to study the unknown potentials of wood.

What I feel is that marquetry, as an art, currently stands at a pivotal moment in its history. On one hand, there are invaluable, centuries-old traditions that have given this art the opportunity to be performed with skills, precision, and aesthetic quality. On the other hand, new technologies, academic research, and contemporary perspectives are raising fresh questions regarding the very nature of this art. I believe the fundamental question regarding the future of marquetry is not how to find a wider range of wood colors. The principal question is if wood is merely a palette of colors, or it can also convey meaning, memory, and narrative? In many international texts, marquetry is known as "painting with wood." While this definition remains valuable, I think there is another horizon awaiting this art. Perhaps the future of marquetry lies not merely in "painting with wood," but in "reading wood." That is to say, learning how to follow what nature has left in the texture, color, patterns, and memories of wood, and to interprete it into some visual language. If Naqshbandi can play even a small part in open up this conversation within the global marquetry community, I will consider it a success far more valuable than any awards. For my primary goal is not to provide an answer, but to pose a new question.

Before coming up with the idea of Naghshbandi, and establishing and evolving it as a style in marquetry, I imagined that one should create the image they have in mind using wood. To me, wood was a beautiful and valuable material, yet it remained a substance that had to serve my ideas. "Forest Heart" changed this view of mine. Along the way, I gradually came to realize that nature is not merely a source of raw materials, but it also has its own words to say. Today, more than ever, I feel that part of a wood artist's mission is to listen; to listen to what time has recorded in the rings of growth of a tree, to listen to the wounds a tree has healed, and to listen to the colors that have shaded in silence over the years. This experience changed my relationship with wood from one based on control to one based on collaboration. If I were to summarize this change in a single sentence, I would say "I used to strive to master wood and its nature; today, however, I seek to collaborate with it." And perhaps this is the very essence of my work as a wood artist that I no longer strive to compel nature to express what is in my mind; instead, I seek to read and recount what nature has already left in the memory of wood. In closing, I would like to take this opportunity to formally share the artistic statement of the Naqshbandi style in marquetry. The Naqshbandi Style Manifesto: "From the representation of nature to its revelation" [Naqshbandi: The art of reading nature’s memory and narrating it in human language] Naqshbandi is a theoretical and practical approach to redefining the relationship between material, image, and artistic creation. In the conventional approach to marquetry, wood is primarily employed as a palette of colors, and the objective is to represent a predetermined image as accurately as possible. In this process, the natural characteristics of the wood serve the purpose of reproducing the image. Naqshbandi begins with this different question that if the color, texture, lines, and natural patterns of wood possess independent visual values, can they be transformed from secondary elements into primary elements of creating an image? Such an approach is grounded in the idea that wood is not merely a material, but an information-bearing biological system. Every tree records its growth history, environmental tensions, wounds, healing processes, climatic changes, and the passage of time within its structure. What appears as patterns, textures, or lines is, in fact, the visible reflection of this natural memory. In Naqshbandi, rather than imposing an image upon the material, the artist engages in reading and interpreting this memory. The image is not the starting point but the outcome of a process of discovery. Naqshbandi rests on three principles: the genuineness of the nature, the natural characteristics of the wood constituting the fundamental basis of the visual expression in the work, rather than serving merely as decorative elements; the co-creation with the material, wood not being passive means of expression but playing an active role in shaping the work - An artistic creation emerges from the interaction between the artist and the material's intrinsic potential - ; and discovery over reproduction, not defining the goal to produce a wooden replica of an existing image but to reveal the hidden connections between natural textures and human narratives. Naqshbandi is also grounded in the scientific study of wood—including an understanding of light behavior within the texture, the impact of cutting angles on the appearance of patterns, the role of biological processes in shaping colors and patterns, and the visual potential in growth rings, healed wounds, and the tree's formation. From this point of view, nature is not merely the subject of the work but simultaneously its material, source of information, and partner in the artistic creation. Naqshbandi does not seek to reject the traditions of marquetry, but to strive to introduce a fresh question in the conversations in this art that is marquetry only the art of "painting with wood," or can it also be the art of "reading wood"? In the world of Naqshbandi, every piece of wood bears a unique and unrepeatable narrative, for no two trees possess the same memory. Naqshbandi is an invitation to read the memory of nature and interprete it into a visual language—an endeavor to move beyond the mere representation of nature toward its revelation. - Mohammadali Vadood