The Cutting Edge (Of Chainsaw Carving, That Is)

Written By Kimberly Liddick-Byrnes

When Randy Arrington gets ready for work, he puts on his steel-toed boots, protective goggles, ear coverings, and chaps.

Then he walks out to his barn, where he is greeted by rows of wooden rabbits, Santas, pumpkins and bears, some standing as high as 5 feet. With his chainsaw roaring, Arrington goes to work, turning logs into art. Arrington is a chainsaw carver.

A tree trimmer for 18 years, Arrington said the chainsaw carving started out as a hobby in 1992. In 1997, it became his livelihood.

“I started carving small things by hand,” he said, “but didn’t have much luck with that. I trimmed trees for years and applied those techniques to carving, and it took off from there. It’s a lot easier than trimming trees and it’s fun. My art makes people happy.”

Arrington, who lives on the outskirts of Manchester, admits that he is not getting rich as a chainsaw carver. But he said the benefits of working for himself are more important than making a lot of money. He likes making his own schedule and doing something he loves every day. And he gets to work side by side with his wife of 30 years, Linda.

“I do all the painting and finishing, I make the sculptures look good,” said Linda.

The Arringtons work year around to create and distribute their artwork, but they are busiest from the end of August through Christmas. That is when the business truly becomes a family affair.

“When we get busy,” said Arrington, “my son Randy, his wife Lisa, and their three kids, Katelyn, Camryn, and Shawn come out and help me sand and paint.”

Chainsaw carving as an art form entered the mainstream in the 1950s and ’60s. When chainsaw dealers attended forestry expos and state fairs, they would often have someone from their companies produce simple carvings to demonstrate the lightness and power of their tools. Not only did the shows serve to draw potential customers to their booths, but it inspired people who saw it as a way to create art.

In the 1980s the art form really took off with a national broadcast of the Lumberjack world Championships in Hayward, Wisconsin. Additionally, contests in the Midwest brought carvers together, allowing them to network and learn from each other. In 1987, the first chainsaw carving World Championship was held.

Arrington said he does not compete; it is just not his style. He said that chainsaw competitions are big business, with carvers getting sponsors and competing around the country. The Arringtons are happy with their little niche, doing enough to make a living. For them it is less about entertainment and more about livelihood.

One of his biggest challenges, Arrington said, is coming up with new ideas. And once she and her husband decide on a new project, Linda said, it can take years to get it to where they want it.

“The longer he carves, the better he gets,” she said. “It takes a little time to learn a new piece. Like with the angels, it took two years to get it to where it is now.”

Husband and wife have their favorite pieces, but Arrington admits that their favorites are the unusual pieces. Their best sellers, however, are bears and snowmen. So their yard offers a scattering of all sorts of creatures, including ghosts, eagles, angels and bears.

But it would be impossible to overlook the huge pile of logs in the yard, some of which measure close to 30 feet long. The Arringtons have them delivered by a tree company that would otherwise take them to saw mills. When Arrington is ready to carve a new piece, he climbs atop the pile, saws the logs into pieces and rolls them down.

“We recycle everything,” he said. “We take trees off the hands of tree trimming companies, burn scraps and give chips to farmers for animal bedding. We don’t waste anything.”

The Arringtons’ work can be found on display at Bullock’s restaurant and at Moonlight Crafts in the mall. Additionally, they sell their carvings at locations in Washington, Baltimore, and Frederick Counties.

12 West Main in New Market sells Arrington carvings. Store manager Inge Sieling said that the store can hardly keep the sculptures in stock. They sell carved fish, hanging crabs, snowmen, jack-o-lanterns and bears, among other things at prices ranging from as little as $29 for small pieces to $129 for large bears.
“His work is just fantastic,” said Sieling. “I would love to watch him carve a piece. It seems there is nothing he can’t do. “People love them as displays for their garden. They are kind of like toys for adults.”

When asked about carving live, in front of an audience, Arrington was ambivalent. On the one hand, he said, it could be potentially dangerous because there is a lot of wood flying around. On the other, he said, it is something he would consider, if the circumstances were right.

One rarely finds a signature on Arrington’s work; no logo, no symbol. He said that he doesn’t make a habit of signing his work. He will do it if asked, but feels that “you can pretty much tell a chain saw carver by his style. We all do the same thing, but each carver is different.”