Goodbye London plane

Goodbye London Plane paticipants and curators, left to right: Sean Brickhill, Georgie Szymanski, Lauren Henderson, Andy Ward, Budd Heyser, Bohdan Cherednyk and Ben Mooney. Photo: Nicole Williams

Words: Andrew Ward
Photos:  Revival and workshop by PARDU Nicole Williams. Finished pieces: Assignment Studio, Hannah Nikkelson

Often maligned, London plane trees are a huge element of Melbourne’s urban fabric. These trees carry complex and potent undertones within our urban landscape.

Melburnians have a love-hate relationship with these beautiful, particulate pollutant ingesting, shade-supplying, hay-fever-inducing trip hazards. London plane tree roots can be unruly and hazardous with twisted limbs that obstruct powerlines and other infrastructure.

Budd Heyser selecting London plane at Revival Projects.

After several years of studies, draft masterplans and complaints from residents and visitors alike, most of Melbourne’s London plane trees will be removed under a long-term City of Melbourne Council plan to diversify the city’s tree population. They currently make up 70% of the total tree population in the inner city but in 40 years could make up only 5%.

Whilst no London plane tree has ever been recorded to die of old age, the tree is often sent to the chipper. The aim of the Goodbye London Plane project was to show how an often-vilified tree can be repurposed from the city’s fallen and felled.

With native logging now banned in Victoria’s state forests and the carbon footprint involved in importing materials seeming nonsensical, it’s time we employed the most sustainable practices possible – using the materials on our doorstep. Let’s peel back the cambium on this striking and misunderstood material.

Ben Mooney (left) and Andy Ward at ground zero of the London plane project.

Seeding an idea

A group exhibition showcasing the works made by some of our city’s finest makers was intended to spark conversation and invite a second look at an often demonised, yet integral, part of our urban fabric, history and identity.

I was approached in late 2024 by Ben Mooney of MaHouse, a Collingwood based homewares store, to collaborate on a group show for Melbourne Design Week. Ben is a huge supporter of local makers and has an amazing eye and innate ability to pull the seemingly chaotic into something finessed and refined. Having never curated or exhibited in a show, teaming up with Ben gave me a quiet confidence that we could pull it off together.

I don’t suffer from hay fever or operate a street sweeper. If it was not for their inability to provide homes for our native wildlife I would say I have no negative feelings towards the trees. The material is stunning and surprisingly diverse in colour and tone as I discovered throughout this process. What initially drew me to the material was the warm straw tones and wild grain, I like how it can be both subtle and intense depending on how you cut it.’

I had been wanting to work with London plane for quite a while, I first saw the material shared in an Instagram post by Revival Projects, who I ended up engaging with for this show. I was so surprised by its striking figure and this was the catalyst for one of the underlying themes of the show. I loved the idea that something so seemingly mundane and everyday to Melburnians could be concealing such unknown beauty.

With the push for their removal on the horizon, it seemed like a great opportunity to get together some of our favourite local makers to showcase this underutilised and iconically Melbourne material.

Lauren Henderson: ‘My first time using this timber for joinery – it has some beautiful figure that I’m excited to showcase.’

Accessing the resource

I engaged with Revival Projects in Collingwood who were able to make this show possible through their urban tree recovery initiative. As part of their transfer of custody arrangement we were fortunate to be able to make our pieces from a plane tree felled only a few blocks away from MaHouse.

Finding the makers

Choosing the makers was a very organic process – Ben and I were able to rattle off the list pretty much on the spot. Some of the makers had previously sold pieces at MaHouse, others we both just mutually admired.

I believe that to be a maker, you need a certain amount of open-mindedness and sensitivity. These qualities are especially valuable when participating in a group show with many moving parts and tight deadlines.

For this show, most of the London plane had a moisture content of 25% just eight weeks before the opening, which made building solid furniture a significant challenge. Fortunately, Revival Projects generously donated some dry offcut quarter rounds from a previous milling of the tree. While some might have seen this as unusable scrap material, everyone approached it with vision, optimism, and enthusiasm.

It was a unique experience to be together at Revival at the very beginning of the design process, when there are more questions than answers. Given the typically solitary nature of making, it was really refreshing to gain insight into each other's thinking at such an early stage. I was genuinely blown away by the work that was produced for the show. It was inspiring to see how each maker transformed their chosen material into something beautiful and considered.

Wet wood

It was about 10 weeks out from the show opening when I realised that a large majority of the available material wouldn’t be fully dry until approximately three years after the show opening, not super ideal. That discovery sent me spiralling down a rabbit hole of kiln research, driven by a certain amount of defiant unwillingness to accept that I couldn’t use this material.

After messaging just about every woodworker in Melbourne and countless hours on YouTube, I spoke to Wood Review Editor Linda Nathan, who immediately recalled some articles by Neil Erasmus published in AWR#31 and #32*. These articles detailed Neil’s ingenious dehumidification kiln design, made specifically for drying veneers.

Following Neil’s design, I made a kiln and managed to take the London plane veneers I’d cut from a moisture content of 25% down to 6% in just 48 hours, and they remained predominantly flat and stable throughout the process.

Andy Ward: ‘The grain can be both subtle and intense depending on how you cut it.’

The kiln is genius in its simplicity: an oil heater and dehumidifier are placed at the rear of an insulated cabinet. Inside that, a secondary box holds the veneers. Two computer fans circulate warm air over the timber, drawing moisture into the dehumidifier.

Each veneer is pressed between alternating corrugated cardboard sheets and clamped or weighted down inside the secondary box. Thanks to the large amount of surface area in contact with the veneers, combined with the constant airflow, this method allows the thin material, which would normally warp under such fast drying conditions, to stay remarkably flat and usable.

Left to right, the collection displayed at MaHouse Supply Store:

• Andy Ward, Plane Screen and Plane Prop. London plane veneers are laid over American glacial oak.
• Nick Alyward, Bump vase ‘highlighting contrasting London plane grain’.
• Wall lights by Sean Brickhill and Andy Ward
• Billie Civello, G-Stool, London, plane, recycled aluminium, stainless steel.
• Georgie Szymanski, Tea Table, ‘a simplified Chippendale version’.
• Bodhan Cheredynk, Church Window Pants, highlighting live edged.
• Lauren Henderson, Glow Table doubles as ‘portable, rechargeable ambient floor lamp’.
• Andy Ward, Plane Seam screen, veneer, brass and aluminium

What to make?

I had been exploring the idea of making a sculptural screen incorporating a lighting element for quite a while. After Ben and I first discussed our potential plans for the show, and how we envisioned the work being displayed in his shop, I designed my Plane Screen. Given the minimal aesthetic of the piece, it ended up being a good vehicle for my first foray into using more wild and figured material.

I chose to slip-match my veneers, which created a subtle cant in the direction of the circular cut-out, where a concealed light housed in the upright support at the back illuminates the opening from behind. For the substrate, I chose solid American glacial oak, both as a nod to its increasing use as a replacement for timbers like Vic ash and Tassie oak since the recent forestry bans, and because of its beautiful ray fleck when quartersawn. That fleck blended in nicely with the London plane veneers, creating a quiet visual harmony between the two materials.

Working with London plane

What initially drew me to London plane was the consistent straw tone and beautiful grain that intensifies on closer inspection. When plain sawn, it could almost be mistaken for maple or beech; when cut on the quarter, it can transition from very fine interlocked pore-like figure to an exaggerated snakeskin pattern.

Having only seen small amounts of London plane prior to working with it, I had the preconception that it was generally homogenous in tone. Inspecting the log that was milled at Revival was a bit of a rude awakening it had some very wild spalting and colour verging on wood porn territory.

When it comes to timber selection, I’m usually drawn to more subtle and visually quiet material. I was out of my comfort zone here but like anything meaningful or challenging, I’ve found this is usually a good place to lean in.

Working predominantly with Australian hardwoods really puts you in good stead to tackle most non-native timbers. London plane is a medium-density hardwood in terms of Janka hardness, a close comparison would be Tasmanian blackwood.

The London plane was a genuine joy to work. It machined and sanded beautifully and took surprisingly well to hand tools given its sometimes heavily interlocked grain.

I did find it a little tricky to finish at first. The varied tone in the timber I used was looking a little muddy under a clear hardwax oil. In the end, opting for a slight amount of white pigment helped balance things out.

Will I use London plane again?

I can see myself seeking out more of this beautiful material in the future and sincerely hope to see it be thoughtfully processed and utilised to its full potential should the plans for their removal go ahead.

First published in Australian Wood Review #128, September 2025

The exhibition was displayed at Ben’s shop MaHouse Supply Store in Melbourne as part of Melbourne Design Week 2025.

Learn more about Andrew Ward @andyward__ at www.andyward.au

Revival Projects is located in Collingwood, Melbourne, see revivalprojects.com.au/

For information about MaHouse, see mahousesupplystore.com.au/ where, at the time of writing, the items exhibited were available for purchase.

* You can read Neil Erasmus’s articles on the Wood Review website at www.woodreview.com.au/how-to/how-to-make-a-kiln-for-drying-hand-cut-veneers