Story of a commission: Studio Morison on handcrafting a pavilion from straw and wood

'Mother… is a quiet, meditative pavilion created within the fenland and marshes of Wicken Fen Nature Reserve in Cambridgeshire. Heather Peak and I created it to explore people’s relationship to nature in the modern, technologically-driven lives that we live.

First, we spent time learning about local agricultural and social traditions from before the fens were drained and industrialisation took over. In the past, thatch was made here: local people would harvest the reeds and the marsh sedge. We were inspired by archive photos of the reed and hayricks where these materials would dry – they’re simple, geometric forms, traditional yet somehow modern and minimal. They would have a thin thatch on top to keep the rain off, which we included, although ours has an open wooden oculus in the roof, framing the sky.

You sit on one of its 27 seats with the straw at your back, breathing in the natural smells of wood, straw and wildlife. Owls are nesting in it – it’s beautiful to see them swooping in and out. The doorways are very long and narrow, reframing the view of the overwhelmingly horizontal landscape. We hope it’s a way for people to appreciate the natural environment anew.

The reserve – a National Trust site – was nominated by the public as the best spot in the area for a new, site-specific public artwork through the East Contemporary Visual Arts Network’s New Geographies commissioning programme. We were commissioned by Wysing Arts Centre, one of the organisations backing this region-wide series of projects, which is funded by the Arts Council.

Heather and I decided to create the piece within a tight timeframe: two months from beginning to end, from trees in the wood to the finished pavilion. We also made the decision to only use the same sorts of materials that can be found around Wicken Fen.

Because of a project to rewild the area, we couldn’t harvest the local reeds or sedge grass, so we chose to use straw instead. We built the sides ourselves, then for the roof we collaborated with a local thatcher, Jeff Helm, who apprenticed in the area – his first ever job was thatching a hayrick near where we put the piece – using the long-stemmed thatching straw he grows.

The timber came from our own forest; we mill and work the wood ourselves. Our forest is in Snowdonia in North Wales – we’ve had it for about 20 years. The wood we used for Mother… came from trees blown down by the wind in a mature plantation of douglas and grand firs and hemlock. We inherited a rather mismanaged wood: the trees are too close together, which makes them weak and liable to be blown down. The benefit, of course, is that there’s always a lot of material there – there are about 20 trees in this piece. We took the wood to a sawmill by our workshop and had it cut to size.

Each part of the structure was then fabricated in our workshop, ready to be assembled on site. We had to work this way because Wicken Fen is ultra-protected: there’s no electricity, no heavy machinery can be brought on site, and you can’t even use power tools due to the noise. As such, we had to design something that could be put up pretty much entirely by hand.

The ellipsis after the word ‘mother’ is designed to invite the visitor to suggest a second word, completing the phrase: ‘mother earth’, ‘mother love’ or ‘mother ship’, for instance. It’s about the restorative powers of nature, and the disconnect between most of our lives and the natural world – particularly in regard to mental health.

A key inspiration was Richard Mabey’s book Nature Cure (2005); it’s about the author’s move to East Anglia, where this work is based, at a time that he was suffering from depression. Questioning his relationship with nature – and re-engaging with it – was helpful for him. Getting wet and cold outdoors can be healthy. We wanted the making of this work to be curative: we all suffer sometimes from the trials of modern life. Returning to a simpler, more immediate kind of making is a good counterweight.'

‘MOTHER…’ is at Wicken Fen, Cambridgeshire, until late October