As the market for concrete has expanded, so has the number of people that try to make and sell concrete countertops. Many of those new folks come from the construction world and are looking for something new to do as the construction industry has been in tough shape since the housing market tumbled.

The expanding market for concrete as a countertop choice combined with the increased number of folks trying to enter this market has caused an unfortunate phenomenon. There are simply too many people doing what we do that are not experienced or knowledgeable enough to do it well. Many believe that because they know how to pour sidewalks that they should know how to pour countertops. The result? Crappy countertops, sad and angry clients, and a slightly bruised reputation for the industry.

Years ago when someone would call our office the first thing that they would say was “I am so happy that I found you!” Now more often than not the first thing a caller says is “I hear that it cracks” or “my brother hired these guys that gave him a great deal and now he has a 4,000 pound mistake in his kitchen.”

Concrete is not like granite or marble. You can go from one store to the next and price out absolute black granite from China and be pretty sure that regardless of price, you are getting the same product. You will never get the same concrete twice.

These days we almost always have at least one project going that is a redo of someone elses work. This means that someone loves the material so much that they are paying to have custom concrete counters made twice. This is touching but utterly unnecessary and wasteful.

We are working on one of these redo projects right now. The guy “was nice” and was a little closer to home. His estimate was a full third less than ours. The counters that he made looked nothing like the sample that he had produced, backsplashes were badly cupped and didn’t fit and when he was asked to remake them he asked for more money. He took the money and stopped returning calls.

Buying new countertops is a huge commitment. You will be living with them for a long time. You need to be confident that you are getting the best possible product before getting the best possible price. When shopping for concrete you need to look at how long a company has been in business. How deep is their portfolio? How fluid are they in the discussion of your project? What is the background of the owners and for that matter the employees? Do they have specific design skills? Do they have someone on staff that can competently match colors?

When we founded Stone Soup Concrete, only one or two others were dabbling in concrete counters on the East coast. Nobody taught courses. No books existed to teach you how to make concrete countertops. We started by reading everything that we could get our hands on. We dog eared hundreds of pages in civil engineering books. We experimented with our mix designs, vibration, substrate, steel, and steel placement, water content and colors non stop for years. In fact we still constantly experiment with all of those things because we believe that you should never stop learning and trying new things.

We currently have nine different mix designs that we use for different circumstances. Each one of these mix designs has a perfect application. We carefully choose the mix design that will perform the best for each project that we run through the shop.

Stone Soup Concrete has made thousands of countertops, fireplace surrounds, showers, bathtubs, fire bowls, benches, wall panels, furniture and sculptural pieces. Our work is in houses, bars, restaurants, museums, parks, and ballparks all over New England and beyond.

We have been teaching our craft for over a decade in the best design build schools in New England.

This blog may sound self serving, but it’s intended to serve our industry and most importantly our potential customers. I have written this as an educational tool to the person shopping for refined concrete. Most people in New England have never heard of concrete countertops. Those that have, don’t realize that they are receiving a completely different product from one shop to the next.

I do not want to receive calls about 4,000 pound mistakes in people’s kitchens anymore. I love what I do and I love concrete. It makes me sad to hear these stories every week.

So when you are shopping for concrete, please take the time to find out a bit about the company that you are considering working with. Remember that you are doing this once and you want your project to come out perfect the first time. Shop on quality and experience over cost and convenience.

Please help us to fill the box truck completely with the following items, which the Occupy Sandy organization has deemed as most needed at this time:

Water

Blankets

Winter Clothing Gear (no general clothing please)

-       Warm Socks

-       Gloves

-       Hats

-       Jackets

-       Boots

Flashlights

AAA Batteries

Sandwich and Gallon Ziplock Bags

Cleaning Hardware & Supplies

-       Brooms

-       Flat Shovels

-       Mops

-       Buckets

-       Contractor Bags (no kitchen bags please)

-       Face Masks and Work Gloves

-       Hydrogen Peroxide

-       White Vinegar

-       Sponges/Rags

-       Spray Cleaner (Fantastic/Lysol)

Baby/Toddler Food and Formula

Duct and Scotch Tape

Can Openers

Toiletries

-       Deodorants

-       Tampons

-       Body Soap

-       Shampoo/Conditioner

-       Toothpaste

-       Toothbrushes

Small cash donations will also be accepted to cover travel and lodging expenses.

We are following Occupy Sandy to keep track of the best drop location.  There are many needs and they are consistently changing.

Please drop off any of the items listed above to Stone Soup Concrete located in the Eastworks Building at 116 Pleasant Street, Suite 028, Easthampton, MA.  Please make sure all donations are delivered to the shop by Friday, November 23^rd at 5pm.  There are no donations too small!  Thank you in advance for your help!

The class will be held at Stone Soup Concrete in the Eastworks Building at 116 Pleasant Street, Suite 028, Easthampton, MA 01027.  The cost will be $1500 and will include lunch and a DVD with mix designs and a plethora of information!!  Plus discounts from their sponsors!!   Please contact Tommy directly to sign up for the class.  The best way to reach him is via email Tommy@tommytcook.com or you can leave a message at 206-920-5404. Payment may be made via Pay Pal if you are using a credit card or checks can be made out to Gnomeadic Arts Inc.

This will be a fundamentals class covering GFRC and other mix designs, how to properly develop them, implement and control them and determine what admixtures and other products you can use for your mixes and why.  This will be taught by Mike Cook on the first day!  Bring your pencils and paper!!!

We will then move to the shop where we will fabricate some forms in wood and fabric form and cast them using the principals that we went over in the class.  We will fabricate some basic wood and fabric formed molds, going over the basics of fiberglass and how to use and apply it.

We will then batch out for our mixes and go through the mixing and placement of GFRC.   We will walk through the proper steps to produce a good finish and a strong product with minimal products and effort.  Then pop them out and go through finishing procedures.

This will be a “once in a great while” kind of class as Mike (Cook) and I do not get many chances to train together, not to mention having the good folks of Stone Soup Concrete sharing some skills as well!!  Don’t miss this one!!!!

Biography

Tommy T Cook has been designing and fabricating concrete countertops and a broad spectrum of custom decorative      and architectural precast concrete products for over 12 years.  His use of concrete as an art medium is not only innovative, but nationally renowned.  Beyond his line of functional art products, such as countertops and custom fireplaces, he has also designed and built water features, 3-D sculpture and worked on public art projects.  He was Co-Founder of Absolute ConcreteWorks in Seattle and is now offering full time training and consulting in the precast industry via a unique method of traveling the US in an RV to all his clients.  His new company Gnomeadic Arts Inc., is collaborative in nature and will bring multi-level training and consulting to the masses with numerous other trainers.  His true passion is concrete and if you have ever met him, it is very apparent.

His expertise crossover is between standard architectural precast and custom precast for countertops and furniture using full Premix GFRC manufacturing and/or basic wetcast OPC casting.  He also offers custom form building with fiberglass – including fabric forming, rubber, foam, clay, plaster and other methods.  Starting as a small artist in a garage and growing into the NW’s premier precast company has given me a broad range of expertise, from small casting studios to large production facilities.  We can help you grow your business in many ways.

”My passion for what I do is equaled by my thirst to develop new techniques and to expand my knowledge and to share that knowledge with others.  It is only surpassed by my drive to continuously raise the bar of what is achievable.  I live, breath and sometimes eat concrete.  It’s what I do, it’s what I am and it’s what I love.

All of us who work with concrete understand the nature of the intimate relationship with both our material and our clients;  concrete has the power to seduce. That is true for both those who make it, and those who desire it.  This is as true for concrete dams, as it is for concrete countertops.

My profession is an accident. Every job I have had since college, I have had for the sole purpose of gaining materials and funds to make art. I became a carpenter because I knew that although nobody would be easily convinced to buy a book-grinding machine, they would be happy to pay for shelves to put their books on. Later I worked on an ocean-going tugboat in the Caribbean because I thought that the pay for sea time would easily fund my studio time when I rotated back to land. Of course, I had not anticipated that so much time would be spent ashore in Barbados, where there were many opportunities to spend my paycheck.

Returning from my stint as a sailor, I rejoined the terrestrial work force engaged in construction. A short time later, I was presented with an opportunity to assist with building a steeple that was to be constructed in an old periscope sighting facility, and then transported to its final mooring several states away.

To build a steeple is to work directly with the textures of history that combined to create them. Working with concrete is no different. It is a meditation about how to project the future by discovering the past. And because of this, ultimately it is about the present. I became entranced by that transformative power. Concrete seemed to offer a tangible metaphor for humanity and its deeds. There are other things in the world that function this way too…. Beer is one of those things.

As with concrete, craft beer is not appreciated by everybody. According to the Brewer’s Association, 1595 craft breweries shared 7% of the US market in 2009, while Anheuser-Busch held 50.1%. Beer consumption is down at an annual rate of 2.2%, while craft beer consumption is up 10.1%. And according to the latest figures available as of this writing, in the first half of 2010, craft beer was growing at a 12%/year rate.

There are signs for optimism within the craft concrete trade too. The economic downturn has hurt everybody, and especially those who rely on building for their income. But throughout the imposition of the New Economy, it is my suspicion that craft concrete has fared much better than some of the alternatives.

Most of us operate small shops dedicated to the custom needs of custom clients. We rely less on an industrial model that is built upon the concentration and factoring of labor, and more on the kind of empathies that build a humane community. Although none of us would shy away from wealth, most of us do not view wealth as a monoculture based on money.

In addition to making concrete for the home, I am a home brewer. Although I have been enjoying beer for most of my life, only recently have I started to make it. What surprised me was how similar brewing is to the visceral requirements for making concrete. Let me take you on a journey…

Beer has been made for a long time. Some historians have surmised that beer, not bread, provided the catalytic spark that lead to settled agriculture. Certainly whichever was first, the other soon followed.
The yeast to make bread, wine, and most ale is Saccharomyces cerevisiae. Bread is made from dough, which is then cooked. Bread dough requires flour (made by crushing grain seeds) a leavening agent (historically yeast) and water.
Beer is made from the same grain seeds, which are germinated, and heated (malted) to halt their growth and fix starches. The grains are then steeped in a warm water bath to convert the grain starches into fermentable sugars, or malts. This is called the mash. The water used in the mash is then drained to become the basis of beer, also known as the wort. Hops (or other preservative spices) are added to the wort, and the entire mixture is brought to a boil. The wort is then cooled and yeast is added. The nascent beer is placed in a container sealed against the elements save for an exhaust for the carbon dioxide the yeast produces as it converts malts to alcohol.
In ancient times, a low alcohol beer would have had similar nutritional properties as bread, while also providing a safe source of potable water.
Just as hands that love it should make concrete, those who hold it in disdain shouldn’t make beer. And if you like beer, you need to know what you like about it, or you will get lost on the way there.

Choosing the grain

Just as cement comes from rocks, sugar for fermentation comes from malted grains. This is mashed (steeped in hot water) to convert the stored starches into fermentable sugars. Prepared malt extracts can be bought as a substitute for this, but this is like buying a bagged mix of concrete that says it is ‘for countertops’. Not only will it be much more expensive, it is also difficult to tell what went into its preparation.
All the sugars in beer come from the malts, and a lot of the other flavors do too. If you want a malty and toasty beer, add some Munich Malt. The basis of a clean crisp beer might be Pilsner Malt. If you want the beer to be dark, with a deep roasted flavor, consider the use of Chocolate or Black Malts.
The basis of most beers is barley that has been malted at a low temperature. Often called Pale Malt, this grain provides the engine of sugar (maltose) production in the mash. There are many other grains that have been malted to hold convertible starches, and confer other flavors and color into the wort, but many of these lack the ezymes required to precipitate the conversion of starch into a sugar. These enzymes are called Alpha and Beta Amylase. The reserve of these enzymes within a grain is called its “diastatic power”, or DP. Some malts only have enough DP to convert themselves. But Pale Malts have DP enough to convert themselves, and other malts in the mash.
If you want the beer to be sweeter, and have lower alcohol, choose grains that do not have enough DP to convert all the starches in the grain. If you prefer a bigger, dryer beer, choose efficient malts with a high DP, and use more of them. A beer can be ½% or 13% alcohol. And it is the sugars converted from the grains’ starches that will provide yeast with the fuel to deliver the result.

The Mash

The primary purpose of the mash is to convert the starches contained within the grains into sugars the yeast will eventually use to convert to alcohol. It’s analogous to making cement. For this, a sufficiency of water, controlled temperature, and enough time are required.
Most sugars are converted after steeping 30 minutes. Most brewers let the mash continue for a full hour to be sure that as much conversion as possible
Both Alpha-Amylase and Beta-Amylase are required to convert the long starch molecules into fermentable sugars. Alpha-Amylase cuts the starch into dextrins and some fermentable sugars. Beta-Amylase completes the process, turning the shorter chains into maltose. Unfortunately, each enzyme works best at different temperatures. Alpha-Amylase works best from 149º to 158º, while Beta-Amylase works best in the 124º to 144º range. And Beta-Amylase prefers a thicker mash (less water) than Alpha-Amylase, because it works better when it can attach to the grains.
If the mash temperature is high, it will yield a sweeter, but lower alcohol beer. If mash temperatures are low, then not enough starches will be converted to dextrins to, in turn, be converted into maltose. The beer will be thin and starchy, with also a lower alcohol content than what should be possible.
So, just as with water content in concrete, an ideal water temperature/water content amount needs to be reached. For most home brewers, this is a temperature of 149º-153º with 40 oz of water/lb of malt used.

The Sparge

Once the sugars have been converted in the mash, it is time to fill a kettle with the resultant wort. Because of the large surface area of the grains in the mash, it is helpful to wash out with water. The water should be warmer than the mash to help coax the sugars away from the surfaces of the grain, but not so hot that bitter flavors from the husks are leached. In practical terms, I find that 170º works well for this process. The sparge should take enough time for the hotter water to do the most work. 15-30 minutes seems to be a good range. I also use enough water to make sure that I collect enough wort in my kettle to allow for significant evaporation during the boiling process.

The Boil

This is where the wort is spiced with hops, and readied for yeast. Most boils are in the range of 60 minutes, but they can be either longer or shorter. The boil also helps reduce the amount of fluid and concentrate the sugars. If I’m brewing a 5 gallon batch, I will probably fill the kettle to about 6 ½ gallons, and let about a gallon boil off over the next hour.
Hops come in many varieties, and are used for a few purposes. The hops added to the beginning of the boil will add bitterness and act as a preservative, but add little hoppy flavor. Hops added toward the end of the boil, will give flavor, but little bitterness. And hops added after the boil, will give the beer aroma. As with concrete, timing is the key factor.
Once the boil is complete, the wort needs to cool down to a temperature the yeast is bred for. For most ales, this is somewhere between 55º-75¬º.

The Fermentation

Once the wort has cooled, it is transferred to a fermentation vessel. For small batches this could be a clean 7 gallon re-sealable bucket. (And not the one you got your last shipment of ADVA in!)
Now add the yeast to the wort. Let it acclimatize, then vigorously aerate the liquid. A stainless steel mixer mounted to a drill works well for this.
Once aerated, place the cap on the fermenter. Make sure you have left some means for gas to escape. For a plastic bucket, a hole, fitted with a bung and a plastic vapor trap will work nicely. In a few hours the first bubbles will appear in the trap. After a day, it will become quite vigorous. This is evidence that the yeast is happy, and making beer for you!
Although not all brewers do this, after a week, I transfer the beer into a glass carboy. This serves two purposes. Once the beer is in a clear vessel, I can see how much the cloudiness has cleared, and gauge when it will be ready for bottling.
The other reason is that the beer is cleared from the yeast cake that has accumulated at the bottom of the fermenter. This ‘cake’ can be quite large depending on the flocculation of the yeast. Part of the reason that I start the fermenter with 5 ½ gallons for a 5 gallon batch, is the yeast cake can take up that much volume.
Another vapor trap is placed on the carboy. Let the beer sit for 2 or more weeks.

Bottling.

At this point, the beer is ready to be put in a bottle. It should already taste mature, but it will be a touch flat. While in the bottle, the beer will continue to mature, but carbonation can be enhanced by adding 1 qt of water/5 oz solution to the beer prior to bottling. This will add significant carbonation to the beer over the next 1-2 weeks.

I like bitter beers. I find them refreshing and engaging. I tend to prefer bitter ales that don’t use the floral hops aroma to mask a cloying sweetness. I also like porters that are dry, with a hint of the back-of-the-palate grab that a dark roasted malt can give it. And I like a beer that fills the mouth with a live feeling. I like beer to have character. I am not bothered when each time it is made, it changes slightly. It becomes like tasting something for the first time.
I don’t like corporate beers, but I do understand that it is an amazing infrastructure that is required to make them. They are amazingly consistent. And they are marketed in a way that enjoyment is conflated with consumption. So many units are made… and with such similarity.

Like beer, I like concrete to show the hand of its maker. I like concrete to look like concrete. I like the holes. And if not structural, cracks do not bother me. Concrete is an old material, but not yet understood. It defies definition. It describes the past, and predicts the future. But it requires being in the present to understand and appreciate it.

Just like beer.

Our original reasons for teaching about concrete counters and sinks were twofold. First we wanted to ensure that if we had competition, it would be good competition.  Second, we wanted to make sure that those that otherwise could not afford concrete counters would be able to make their own.

We knew that this craft that was born on the west coast would soon sweep into New England with force.  When Mike and I began making concrete counters, and other fun concrete objects, no one taught this stuff.  We had many, many ”learning experiences” and over time, developed our formula, our vibration technology, our exstensive library of colors, and our own ways of forming, deforming, transporting, and installing our work.

We knew that if the popularity of concrete countertops outpaced the number of people skilled enough to make them, there would be a lot of bad work out there and that could cause a major backlash for our very new industry.

Well sure enough, the popularity of concrete counters on the east coast did out pace the number of people skilled enough to make them.  Not a week goes by without us getting a phone call from some poor person with a ”4000# mistake in their kitchen”.   Now when I answer the phone the first thing that I hear is “I hear that it cracks” or “my brother got these and they came out all wrong”.

Many contractors have heard bad things about concrete countertops because we now have too many folks around that are making them poorly.

Mike and I have decided to redouble our efforts to teach our trade with the hope that it may help a little to preserve the reputation of concrete as a countertop material.  In every class we will build and pour a project for someone that may not have been able to afford it otherwise.

With this in mind we have added a fantastic new venue to our concrete countertop workshops. We will be teaching at the Heartwood School in Washington, MA.

Heartwood primarily teaches Homebuilding, Woodworking, and Timber Framing workshops.  They have been around since 1978.  Check out www.heartwoodschool.com

-Mike Paulsen

The Barrier project, as it came to be known was a collaboration between 2 NY based conceptual artists working under the moniker Type A, 3 regional museums*, and Stone Soup Concrete.  The piece, and the project’s evolution became a metaphor for the instability of the times we now find with us.  Soon after the project was started one of the sponsoring museums was closed by the university that supported it… in order to liquidate the art holdings and make up for budgetary shortfalls. Fortunately another museum was found to take its place, or the entire project would have foundered.  Shortly after that, the company we had engaged to do our full-scale rendering went belly-up.

Working with artists who had no material connection with concrete was much akin to the kind of translation we have to do in our more prosaic work.  Until the first barriers came out of the mold, the artists had only experienced them in renderings and in very small 3D printouts.  So much time was spent exploring both the limitations, and the strengths of concrete.  It wasn’t until the artists saw the full scale objects in our shop that they really got a visceral sense of how these objects would actually occupy space.

Working with museums was also an eye-opener.  Within those institutions sponsoring the Barrier project, there was quite a particular social structure.  On one hand there were the curatorial staff, whose job was to select, schedule, and arrange artists, attending to their needs, publishing publicity and archival materials, and managing the labor required to get artwork installed and shown.  On the other side of things were the museum preparitors. Generally artists themselves, it was their job to do the actual physical work of installing and sometimes even creating the artwork that increasingly conceptual artists could not make for themselves.

As the concrete barriers accumulated, their form began to show their possibility

And the actual mechanics of producing these objects proved quite a departure from the kind of work we generally do at Stone Soup Concrete.  We typically make custom objects.  Each one is different from the last, and forms are made with that sort of durability in mind.

But with Barrier, we had to make a form that would not only withstand multiple uses, but could be used to produce large and heavy objects, quickly and consistently. If cast solid, these objects would weigh 5,000 lbs. In order to fulfill their role as a museum exhibit, the barriers had to be as light as possible. They had to withstand close examination, seem solid, and survive the rigors of New England weather.

It was an interesting project.

Finding the form.

Jersey barriers are often large.  And in the wild, they are never curved.  So some consideration was put into the method by which the form could be found.  We had some basic information to start with; an end profile, an arc length, a CAD rendering, and a small 3D printout. The final barriers were to be 7’-9” long, 37” wide at their base, 8” wide at their top, and travel through 60 degrees of arc.  Six could make a circle a little over 20’ in diameter.

Although there were other methods available to us, we elected to have a full-scale rendering commissioned.  This way we could work out any details before building the mold.  At the same time we got a mold we would use for the interior foam casting.  This foam plug would allow the barriers to have a 1” wall thickness, as well as 2” thick arched pathways to more effectively deliver concrete.  The arches would also act as structural coffers.

Once we had the CNC foam masters in hand, fiberglass shells were created.  Into the interior shell we poured an expanding urethane foam to make the plug.  Once released, 7/8” stand-offs were inserted to assure the plug would stay centrally located within the outer form.

The exterior shell had to be mounted into an assembly that would both be a mother mold (a structural casing) and casting machine.  We would cast the concrete from the top, then once set, eject the casting from the bottom.

Because these barriers are curved, I was fairly certain that they wouldn’t just fall out of the form.  And because of the curve, there was no way to ‘yawn’ the form open to ease the casting’s ejection. The barriers also needed to have a formed undercut, which would provide a shadow line allowing for strap pathways and any needed shims to be hidden out of view.

So the casting assembly was built in three major parts.  A concave side which was rotated within a mobile chassis, a convex side which slides away from the concave side when the form is inverted, and an undercut form that would prevent the foam plug from being enthusiastically ejected during the casting process.  The undercut form is removed prior to the ejection of the casting.

There were also three minor parts. A rubber cap was placed along what would ultimately be the top extremity of the barrier.  This would allow pressure to be expressed downward against the barrier to eject it from the mold.  Two foam inserts were also attached to the terminal faces of the mold.  All three of these pieces were also used to hide the longitudinal split in the fiberglass shell.

Casting the barriers.

The walls needed to be thin, if the weight was to be kept low. We wanted to avoid the possibly form damaging effects of vibration, as well as the extra work of steel reinforcement. So this became a perfect job for GFRC.

We used a mix that was one part sand,one part cement, 50% (by volume) fibers, and 33% (by weight) water/Forton 774 mix. Adva 555 was used as our water reducer.

Each barrier took about 850 lbs. of concrete to fill.  Once we were up to speed, a crew of 3 was used for casting.  The casting process took about 2 hours.  A day later, it took an hour or so for one person to get the finished casting out of the form.  It then took another hour to prepare the form for the next casting.  We were able to cast three each week while also producing other work.

The first barrier

But it didn’t start that way.  There was a bit of a learning curve.  For first barrier, we tried to use a much more sand intensive GFRC (aka Bad GFRC) It took 5 of us over 5 hours to fill the form, and it didn’t’ fill that well, even though we added a huge amount of extra vibration.

When we pulled the barrier out, that took just as long.  And it pulled a beautiful blue color out of the fiberglass gel coat.  Our artist clients were a bit apprehensive when I sent them pictures.

The second one revealed a few more flaws in our methodology.  By this time we had decided that good GFRC was better than bad GFRC.  And it flowed into the form… and it flowed.  By the time the form had gobbled 1100 lbs. of concrete, we were sure that something was amiss.  And sure enough it was.  Part of the mother mold was collapsing under the strain, causing huge lumps on the inner part of the barrier.  We only had one mold, and the foam master have been destroyed in the fiberglassing process.  So there were some concerned faces around the shop that day.

The next day we took it out of the form. And although there were lumps, the second one was much cleaner than the first.  More importantly, the form had survived. So we fixed the form, and carried on.

Every subsequent barrier came out well… though with far more surface individuality than we expected.  If placed with each other, they were certainly unified as a type.  But individually they were all unique.  And as they were all Jersey Barriers, they soon became Jersey Girl Barriers.  Whether it was Lisa, Diane, Geri, or Cassandra, each girl got a name.

Delivering the barriers.

We built special J bars to jack and move the barriers in close quarters.  And as they only weighed 850 lbs. they could be moved around on dollies.  This allowed them to be easily loaded onto a box truck for transport.  Once on site, they could be easily maneuvered into place, and dropped to ground.

For our last installation, it took 4 guys 3 hours to install 16 barriers.

Lessons learned.

Jersey barriers are banal and ubiquitous objects.  Developed by the NJ Department of Transportation it is a modular traffic divider that is designed for ease of mobility and quick installation.  They are everywhere, and almost invisible except for their metaphoric strength.  They demarcate space.  They are designed to prevent things for happening.  They say, “Stay away.”

But the barriers of Barrier are different.  Children climb on them.  Adults sunbathe on them.  People approach them and caress them.  It is almost as if they had been made of a special material.  And in a way they have.

Concrete is a meditation.  After thousands of years it is barely understood.  Yet this is a material that because of its ubiquitous deployment, and proven durability, its name is synonymous with credible truth.   For most of us that use it, it remains a mystery. And it is that mystery that has drawn us to it.  For most of us in this business, it was the material itself that became our muse, and not the blessings of a concrete countertop business.

In the new economy, and in our familiar markets, concrete has been recently cast as a commodity.  Large countertop shops have tried to get into this material, and have tried to reduce its trade to an exchange of commodity for cash.  I place no blame here.  Business is a major cultural engine.  And simplicity serves the efficacy of exchange.

For me, Barrier is a potent metaphor.  Wild Jersey barriers sell for $250, and weigh 5,000 lbs. or more. They form a formed pillar of our society, and are the basis for many a sound business. They are everywhere, nobody sees them, and nobody wants them unless they absolutely have to avail themselves of their service.

But add a curve, and everything changes.  A stultifying object becomes intimate and artful.  It becomes aesthetically significant, and individually valuable.  Making such objects cannot exist within the world of those who push baubles, even if they are also bollards.  Individuality cannot withstand individuation.

It is unfortunate that the makers of craft concrete furnishings have assembled themselves under the banner of fabricators of  concrete countertops.  And although this is where many of us make the bulk of our income, it is not what drew us to this material.  It was the special curves and unique turns that make what we do worth doing.  After all, the winding path covers the most ground.

I have an ability to offer something greater than another piece of proprietary stuff, made overseas, and covered with a salesman’s gloss.  I can offer my customers a glimpse of their own destiny through the beauty of the perfectly flawed material.  I can turn a faint ghostly apparition, into something  real and tangible.

I work in concrete.

Michael Karmody

*The museums:

Tang Teaching Museum, Saratoga Springs, NY

De Cordova Sculpture Garden & Museum, Lincoln, MA

Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum, Ridgefield, CT