TURNING TOWARD TROPICAL FOREST CONSERVATION
Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heavens.
– Rabindranath Tagore
By Dr. Nalini Nadkarni.
This article was first published in the American Woodturner, the journal of the American Association for Woodturning. Dr. Nadkarni invited RAIN to present at the AAW International Woodturning Symposium last year.
You can also listen to her keynote address at the Symposium here.
Click to download the article, or read below
The words from Rabindranath Tagore can remind woodturners that trees are connectors, weaving threads both visible and unseen to link different worlds. Biologically, trees connect earth and sky. Their trunks transport water between the forest floor and the atmosphere, creating clouds and cooling the air of our landscapes. Water vapor condenses on the leaves of their crowns, funneling moisture to the ground, nurturing the soil. Trees connect people to the livelihoods of forestry and arboriculture. When urban dwellers seek respite from the stress of city life, trees connect us to a sense of quiet reflection and tranquility.
Woodturners are connectors, too. They provide a vital link between trees and people through the objects of art and craft they create. A woodturner selects a piece of wood from a tree and applies his or her skill, tools, and an individual aesthetic to create something beautiful and useful. The person who views it cannot help but respect and delight in its source—a tree and the forest in which it grew.
This “superpower” of woodturners has become increasingly critical because human activities are disrupting many of the vital connections that trees rely upon to flourish, especially in tropical regions. Deforestation leads to loss of habitat and biodiversity. Expanding farmland for small- and large-scale agriculture encroaches on forests and impairs ecosystem functions. New roads and dams cut off wildlife corridors and enable people to move to previously remote areas, which leads to further deforestation. People who rely on their local forests, many of whom are Indigenous, are losing the capacity to maintain their traditional livelihoods because of declines in forest health.
This litany of actions that threaten forests sometimes leads me to paralyzing despair. I have loved trees since I was a little girl, when I would climb the maples in my front yard in suburban Maryland. My own connection to trees led me to a profession that I hoped would help me protect them.
In rainforest canopies
The author conducts forest canopy research in the cloud forest of Monteverde, Costa Rica. (Photo: Christian Sinibaldi)
I chose to be a scientist and have studied forest ecology for more than four decades. My scientific research focuses on the plants and animals in rainforest canopies, the biota that live high above the forest floor. Until forty years ago, this was considered “the last biotic frontier” because it was impossible to get safe access to the treetops. Since then, canopy researchers have used canopy walkways, construction cranes, mountain-climbing techniques, and, more recently, drones and satellite imagery to study the treetops. My long-term canopy sites are in the tropical forests of Costa Rica and the temperate rainforests of Washington State, USA.
My students and I have learned that forest canopies sustain a tremendous diversity of plants, mammals, birds, invertebrates, fungi, and microorganisms, many of which live their entire life cycles without ever touching the forest floor. These arboreal communities perform critical ecosystem functions, such as catching and holding water and nutrients in rainfall, which increase the nutrient capital of the whole forest. They also provide food and nesting materials for arboreal animals, some of which specialize on canopy-dwelling plants. Canopy biota are an integral part of these forests, connecting—and connected to—the trees in which they dwell.
Most of this research has taken place in what ecologists call primary forests, on lands that have been protected from deforestation and fragmentation. But human activities now encroach within and beyond these parks and reserves, harming some of the tree species cherished by woodturners. An example is pernambuco trees (Paubrasilia echinata), which cannot live and reproduce in “secondary” forests nor in plantations because they require the environmental conditions and specific interactions that occur only within primary forests.
Traditionally, scientists like me have mainly communicated their knowledge to other scientists. But the threats to forests now demand that we share our knowledge beyond the ivory tower so the public can learn from those who understand trees and forests in other ways. We must engage groups whose diverse perspectives can enhance the critical connections within forests, and between forests and people. Woodturners are a perfect example of such groups. People who craft wood as an artform can help protect forests because of their own deep connections to trees. The world can learn a lot from their efficient use of precious woods and the care they take in sourcing wood. Even more directly, in studios, art fairs, and museums, woodturners inspire and inform those who appreciate the objects they have shaped.
I am a novice woodturner. Three years ago, I started turning wood in my study site of Monteverde, Costa Rica, a mountainous checkerboard landscape of primary forests and dairy-farming pastures. My retired 87-year-old neighbor, Howard Rockwell, farmed his land for fifty-two years—mostly pasture surrounded by primary forest. During that time, Howard hauled chunks of trunks from trees that had fallen during windstorms to dry in his open-sided shed. His hand-built woodshed has a full set of woodshop tools, including an ancient lathe—a lumbering beast of a machine with one belt and a single speed. I asked permission to use his lathe, and he generously gave me the key to his shop, saying “I’m glad someone other than that lizard will use it.”
Howard Rockwell’s woodshop in Monteverde, Costa Rica, houses an old lathe that the author was allowed to use.
I make small bowls on a more modern lathe in my garage in Salt Lake City, and on another in my studio in Costa Rica. I gain great joy from turning, cherishing the feel of the curved wood in my hands. My favorite wood is what Howard calls cedro amargo, or bitter cedar (Cedrela odorata), which is not in fact a cedar but a member of the mahogany family. Its name comes from the penetrating aroma and bitter taste of the wood. In Costa Rica, it grows in pastures, along fence lines, and in forests. It is a heavy wood with a straight grain and a luster that highlights its shape. Its wood is sought after for fine furniture, musical instruments, and crafts, not only for its beautiful appearance but for its natural resistance to insect attack.
We must engage groups whose diverse perspectives can enhance the critical connections within forests, and between forests and people. Woodturners are a perfect example of such groups.
International regulations
Because Cedrela odorata grows well outside of primary forests, it has not required protective legal status, but the export of other tropical woods is subject to international regulations. One type of oversight comes from the International Union of Conservation (IUCN) which established the “IUCN Red List of Threatened Species” in 1964, the world’s most comprehensive information source on the global extinction risk status of animal, plant, and fungal species, including tropical trees. It helps inform conservation decisions by providing information about the population size, habitat, and ecology of a species, as well as its trade status and actions to counteract the threats it faces. The IUCN has no actionable powers, but the list is used by government agencies, wildlife departments, conservation-related non-governmental organizations, educational organizations, and the business community.
A second body of oversight is the Convention on International Trade Endangered Species (CITES), formed in 1975 in response to the burgeoning trade in international wildlife. It lists live animals, plants, and the vast array of products derived from them, including food, exotic leather goods, musical instruments, timber, and medicines. Exploitation of some animal and plant species is high, and their trade, together with habitat loss, depletes their populations. This can lead to extinction. With signatories from 183 nations, CITES provides three levels of protection to ensure that international trade in over 40,000 species of wild animals and plants is legal, traceable, and sustainable.
I note that many traded species—including tropical trees such as cedro amargo—are not endangered. Sustainably harvested materials that support the livelihoods of forest dwellers can help conserve forests and support their local human populations. But the existence of agreements such as CITES, grounded in scientifically sound information curated by the IUCN, is an important safeguard for resources that are currently threatened.
Turning my first bowls connected me to trees in a different way than all my years of forest research. Instead of measuring the diameter of the trunks or grinding up leaves to determine their nitrogen content, I could feel the wood and learn its grain with my hands. After a few months of woodturning in Howard’s woodshop, I began attending meetings of the Utah Woodturners Association in Salt Lake City, a wonderful group of turners who were generous with their expertise and guidance. I then joined the American Association of Woodturners (AAW), which led me to the AAW Symposium in Portland, Oregon, in 2024. There, I gave the keynote presentation on the connections between turning and conservation.
Many woodturners I met are already mindful of conservation. In my conversations, I learned that woodturners understand that greater awareness and actions are needed to ensure that tropical wood will be available in the future. They proudly described to me the measures they take to conserve trees: reusing scrap wood, forging relationships with city arborists to reclaim downed urban trees that would otherwise end up in landfills, and ensuring the wood they purchase has verified provenance and permits. Such individual and organizational efforts contribute substantially to our collective power to turn toward conservation.
Seeking collaborators
We are seeking collaborators and pathways to directly connect woodturning to forest conservation in equatorial landscapes. In searching the broad array of conservation groups that protect tropical trees, I identified one that embodies a philosophy of connection and sustainability: The Regenerative Agroforestry Impact Network (RAIN). Its mission is to empower Indigenous and traditional communities to restore degraded land in Brazil. The Network facilitates direct partnerships for change between those who face the impacts of ecosystem disruption and people who want to support them. The group states: “RAIN is a mutual aid organization inspired by the efficiency and harmony found in nature’s interconnected systems... Just like the web of fungal threads that allows trees to trade resources and information, we are building a network of communication, support and resilience....”
My early conversations with their leaders, Danny Diskin, James Tiburcio, and Bianca Cardozo Flores, informed me of their innovative programs to protect existing primary forests and forest fragments, to restore degraded landscapes with scientifically sound methodologies, and to involve local communities in sustaining livelihoods and the environment. The RAIN group gives me a feeling of hope, counteracting the despair triggered by stories of deforestation and climate change. Along with their partners in quilombos (villages of formerly enslaved people), they have planted 100,000 mangroves in the mouth of the Amazon.
RAIN is currently engaging with Indigenous groups whose fragmented traditional lands harbor some of the last remaining stocks of pernambuco trees in the world. This tree, also called brazilwood or pau brasil, was originally used by Indigenous groups in Brazil and later exploited by early Portuguese explorers for a red dye that made it a valuable trading commodity. It has great durability, good workability, and high density (Janka hardness of 2,820 lbf)). With straight grain, a fine, even texture, natural luster, and deep reddish heartwood, it is prized by woodworkers, woodturners, and musicians as the premier wood for violin and cello bows. This wood species is listed in Appendix II of CITES and is on the IUCN Red List, as its population has been reduced by over 50% in the past three generations, caused by a decline in its natural range.
It will take time and care for traditional communities to design and implement projects that can help protect and grow trees in existing forest fragments for ecological restoration. Working between vastly different cultures can be tricky. But the task is essential, and participation is open to individuals, organizations, and businesses that want to help.
Members of the USA-based AAW chapters are already involved. Tom Wirsing, who served two terms as president of the AAW and two terms as president of the Front Range Woodturners in Denver, Colorado, provides frequent demonstrations nationally and internationally. His statement articulates the need for—and complexity of—conservation:
When I first began turning wood, I wanted to experiment with exotic woods, but I soon became aware that doing so threatens the world’s forests. At the same time, I realized there is an abundance of wood which is both beautiful and environmentally consciously harvested. Now conservation is foremost in every piece of wood I select.
One of RAIN’s partners in Brazil tends to brazilwood saplings at their nursery in Espírito Santo.
A mature pernambuco, or brazilwood, tree, whose distribution is now largely restricted to protected fragments of Atlantic forests.
Strengthening connections
Another AAW Symposium participant was Marianne Patton, a fifteen-year AAW member and former board member of the Inland Northwest Woodturners club in Spokane, Washington. She and others at the Symposium generated a forest of ideas to strengthen connections between woodturners and the forest conservation community. These ideas fit into distinct groups that build on the existing activities and approaches of AAW members.
One arena for action is the communication pathways and gatherings of woodturners. The AAW journal has already published articles about the plight of tropical forests and aspects of their relationship to turning wood. This journal and others can continue to raise awareness amongst the readership regarding both problems and solutions. Regional symposia and the AAW International Symposium could include a forest knowledge/sustainability booth, supplementing the array of resources, tools, and expertise that are always on display at these informative and inspiring meetings.
A second source is the existing structure of AAW committees. Sally Burnett is the chair of the Turners Without Borders committee, which has been active since 2012 and which promotes and facilitates outreach turning projects around the world. More recently, the committee has fostered conversations with the worldwide woodturning community to share knowledge and support. Sally stated that enhancing the presence of the AAW in the world of tropical conservation could encourage engagement from the international community of woodturners and empower them to become involved. This might also attract more members to the AAW, especially those from our international community of woodturners.
Another arena is the myriad woodturning clubs and associations in the USA and abroad. Marianne’s club, for example, publishes articles in its local and regional newsletters. Individuals in these groups who become active in conservation and restoration efforts could bring updates and links to the editors of these bulletins and undertake other actions. For example, a club member could request that his/her local library provide display space about woodturning and its connection with forest conservation, perhaps offering a display of the work of local members to draw attention to the joy of turning and its presence in that community. Some turning associations foster youth outreach in schools, and an associated tropical conservation group, like RAIN, could provide those students with trusted contacts in comparable groups in other countries. Many clubs hold fundraisers for causes such as youth education or cancer care. Such an initiative could be aimed at supporting work to expand forest cover by bringing health and biodiversity back to land that RAIN has identified as being deforested or degraded.
Finally, actions can be generated and supported by forest conservation groups themselves. Organizations such as RAIN have offered to facilitate organized tours or work parties to places where AAW members will experience the thrill of walking on paths through primary forests and seeing the wild trees that create the wood we turn. In the future, those relationships could lead to longer-term solutions, such as training local woodturners and thereby creating livelihoods for people where opportunities for education, health, and nutrition necessities are scarce.
More possibilities will continue to emerge in our gatherings. From my own perspectives—as both a scientist and a woodturner—such ideas and others that woodturners and conservationists collectively imagine, will lend resilience to tropical forests and bring sustainability to the woods they provide.
When I climb a tall tropical tree to carry out my studies, and when I put the finishing touches on a small bowl of cedro amargo carved from wood that my friend Howard collected decades ago, I feel a direct connection to trees. They provide us with the air we breathe, the beauty we cherish, and the wood we turn. If we feel that connection, our actions as woodturners can be brought to bear on the problems that trees and forests are facing. Creative and sustaining actions are beneficial to both human and arboreal worlds.
Turning my first bowls connected me to trees in a different way than all my years of forest research.
Dr. Nalini Nadkarni, Professor of Biology at the University of Utah, serves as a National Geographic Society Explorer at Large. For four decades, she has carried out research on the plants that live in rainforest canopies. She also engages the public in forest conservation, including woodturners, faith-based groups, artists, and people who are incarcerated. Dr. Nadkarni delivered the keynote speech at the 2024 AAW International Symposium in Portland, Oregon.
For more, visit nalininadkarni.com, our-trees.com, and rainreforest.org.