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“As long as I can remember, I’ve always been carving something,” says Pete Conway when asked how he got started in his craft of carving carousel horses.
He was born in 1914 to Scottish immigrants who nine years earlier had migrated to the gold mining town of Cripple Creek, Colo. Conway laughs as he recalls his earliest memories of his father teaching him to sharpen tools, a necessary skill for a carver. His first carvings were with a pocket knife in the Boy Scouts.
Conway’s family moved to Los Angeles, where at age 17, a totem he carved for a contest was selected for display at The Smithsonian in Washington, D.C.
During those Depression years, the women’s costume jewelry he carved sometimes provided the family’s only means. Later in the 30’s, he earned a sporadic $20 a day carving Scotty dogs at a time when $18 a week was a respectable wage.
Conway continued earning his way by carving custom window displays for department stores and balsa-wood headdresses such as large birds for Hollywood shows and laminating wood patterns for metal casting. Eventually, he became the lead man assigning work for aircraft test models.
Much later he started developing his specialized craft of carving carousel horses. In 1980 after spending 12 years behind a desk as a design engineer, he met Dick Troon, a bird and carousel horse carver in Oregon. Conway’s passion kicked in again, and he began studying the masters of what was then a fading craft. Soon, a parade of horses began to emerge from his workshop.
Conway sells most of the horses he carves to private collectors. Carousels aren’t as plentiful as they once were and don’t feature hand-carved, hand-painted showpieces like Conway’s. On occasion, Conway restores an antique horse -- relics that can be quite valuable -- and he enjoys the thrill of bringing an old horse back to life.
Although he hasn’t intended to sell recent pieces at market, they have nevertheless been quickly herded off to pasture upon completion. He is currently carving a steed with an eagle on its back and an eagle on one side. “I’ve never done an eagle,” Conway says. He plans to paint it in oils rather than the more expedient acrylics because, at 81, he’s in no hurry.
“This one’s not for sale,” says Conway. But, who knows. Maybe some lucky horse-trader will ride off on this one, too.
-- Steve Sparks