Dab Hands

Human hands are remarkably sophisticated and adaptable tools, unparalleled in the natural world for the breadth of their capability. From the eloquent finesse of a sign language user in full flow, to the nimble picking of a Spanish guitar, the speedy reactions of a teenage texter, or the life-saving precision of microsurgery, our hands are truly phenomenal instruments. Whatever use we put them to, they act as our primary interface with the physical world and with each other.

We use our hands to nurture, to love, to pray, to dance, to calm, to fight, to restrain, to cling, to connect. Dab Hands celebrates the extraordinary relationship that we have with our hands and the value of the skills that can be acquired by repetition and practice, whilst acknowledging the grief and frustration that can disrupt that relationship when illness, trauma, or old age affects our dexterity.

 The Dab Hands Collection was created in residence at Manchester Museum by Lucy Burscough and her collaborative partners from 2020-2022.

Funded by

The Dab Hands Exhibition

‘That’ll Need Stitching’, Lucy Burscough,Donald Sammut and a diverse community of two hundred embroiderers, mixed media, 2021-22.

This embroidered sculpture of anatomical drawings celebrates the skills and dexterity which are refined when we spend time doing craft activities. Lucy is interested in how these are reflected, both in movement and skill acquisition, in surgical practice. The original anatomical drawings are by Donald Sammut, a renowned hand surgeon and surgical educator who values drawing as a tool for understanding anatomy and teaching surgical techniques.

The embroideries were created during lockdown, with participants receiving embroidery kits through the post. As many of us experienced, the pandemic lockdowns were a time of increased stress and anxiety. Lucy is a great believer that taking part in creative activities benefits our mental wellbeing and this belief lies at the heart of this collaboration.

“It really helped me… I lost two of my grandparents within 4 days of each other and it gave me something to do where I could leave reality and just focus everything on something creative.”

 Half of the embroideries are by NHS health care workers and medical students and a quarter by older residents of the region who were members of the Embroiderer’s Guild.

“My clinical work was very busy and I was finding it very hard to unwind…so having something that was very relevant to my work, gave me back my enthusiasm for crafting when I really needed it.”

 The rest were stitched by a range of people including students from Pinc College, the creative college for neurodiverse young people; students from Broadwalk Pupil Referral Unit; artists and people with an interest in anatomy, including biological anthropologist and tv presenter, Professor Alice Roberts.

If you would like to see the 200 embroideries up close or a 3D digital model of the sculpture, please visit

‘Gee with Crassula ‘Morgan’s Beauty’’ on collaged succulent planter

Lucy Burscough, Kate Egglestone-Wirtz and Manchester Museum Volunteers. English Lime and mixed media collage

The Dab Hands project was scheduled to begin in March 2020, rather inauspiciously in the first week of the first covid 19 lockdown. The pandemic changed everyone’s lifestyles in those early frightening weeks, so Lucy found her first subject close at hand, her partner Charlie ‘Gee’ Davies.

This was not just a collaboration of convenience, however. Gee is a devoted plant-lover whose relationship with his collection of succulents, including nearly 300 aloes, offered a satisfying occupation during his time on furlough and was deeply beneficial to his wellbeing. It is that nurturing and skilful touch; the thoughtful assessment of when to water, when to feed; the careful handling when repotting; that Lucy celebrates with this carving.

The museum is committed to operating sustainably whenever possible. This planter started life in the museum shop displaying pocket-money items for younger visitors. During refurbishment it was upcycled by volunteers working with assemblage and collage artist, Kate Eggleston-Wirtz using recycled museum publications and images of succulent plants chosen by Gee from the Herbarium collection.

‘In Defence of Knitting by Elaine Hill’, Lucy Burscough, mixed media, 2021-22

Elaine wrote this poem at the Maggie’s Manchester creative writing group after their tutor, Clare Stuart, visited Lucy, saw the Dab Hands work in progress, and suggested introducing the themes of the project to the group as inspiration for new poems. The collaboration was really fruitful and, in turn, inspired Lucy to meet and draw Elaine’s hands and knit her poem.

The piece also represents a meeting of leading-edge technology and traditional crafting techniques: the poem was knitted in the round, using stranded Fair Isle techniques and the hands are 3D-printed colour scans of Lucy’s. They were produced by University of Manchester colleagues at the Department of Mechanical, Aerospace & Civil Engineering.

‘Elaine, In Defence of Knitting’ Lucy Burscough, Oil Pastel on Paper, 2021

Elaine Hill is a knitting designer whose life has been disrupted by living with M.E..

M.E. is a complex medical condition affecting multiple body systems, with the main symptom being largely unpredictable bouts of extreme, chronic fatigue. The cause of the illness is still being investigated. Many people with ME experience prejudice and disbelief and could feel stigmatised by people who do not understand their illness.

Elaine’s relationship with knitting is deep and complex: when she was well, she made her living as a knitting designer, selling her patterns to New York fashion houses; now that she is ill and often unable to leave the house, knitting is an activity that she may feel well enough to undertake for short periods and derive satisfaction from when other, more physical activities are unavailable to her.

Lucy made this drawing in response to Elaine’s poem, ‘In Defence of Knitting’. Echoing its themes, Elaine makes a fist of protest while holding knitting needles, recognising the craft as a means of protest and her continued practice, an act of defiance in the face of debilitating illness.

Lucy reflects,

“The raised fist is recognisable symbol of protest, originally and chiefly associated with the Black Power movement, but also of interest here is the second, supportive hand. It speaks to me not only of Elaine’s physical struggle, but of the wider emotional, social and financial toll that is taken on by people who are driven to protest to highlight inequality and defend civil liberties.”

‘Corinne Hutton, Double Hand Transplantee’, Lucy Burscough and Corinne Hutton,film and oil on canvas,2020

Lucy feels that one of the joys of working on Dab Hands was the opportunity to talk to fascinating people about their relationship with their hands. Two such people are Professor Simon Kay of Leeds Teaching Hospitals NHS Trust, who led the team that performed the UK’s first double hand transplant, and the recipient of those hands, quadruple amputee Corinne Hutton.

Those conversations led to the creation of this film in which Corinne shares her experiences of living with transplanted hands.  The film offers an insight into Corinne’s tenacious resilience which she has channelled not only into her recovery, but also into creating a charity, Finding Your Feet, which supports fellow amputees.

‘The Stitcher by Dorothy Fenton’, Installation by Lucy Burscough, mixed media, 2022

 Another product of the rewarding collaboration with Maggie’s Manchester’s creative writing group, this installation calls to mind a 1970s sewing room, as recalled by Dorothy Fenton in her poignant poem, ‘The Stitcher’. Dorothy laments the loss of feeling in her fingers caused by chemotherapy which made sewing, which she enjoyed so much as a young mother, impossible.

The Sue Peel Collection

‘Sue’s Macrame’ Lucy Burscough, oil on linen, 2020

Sue Peel is a keen crafter and has been a regular at Lucy’s creative workshops. Sue uses crafting to help maintain mobility in her left hand.

“I was born with Spina-Bifida which means my spinal cord didn’t develop properly in the womb, Scoliosis which is an S shaped curvature of the spine, a club foot and my hands in a fist like position. The scoliosis restricted some movement in my left arm. From birth my Mum and Nan did a lot of physio on the hands to uncurl them. It was noticeable that my left hand wasn’t quite right in that my thumb always sat inwards and the movement wasn’t as fluid.”

 Sometimes Sue finds some elements of the activities challenging, but she perseveres. She has lived a life of challenges and is a wonderful woman, despite, and perhaps because of, all that she has experienced. Sue’s portrait is of her making some macrame, one of the workshops that she particularly enjoyed.

In December 22, Sue came into to the museum and delivered a macrame workshop so that museum staff and volunteers could help to make the pot-holders in the museum’s greenhouse.

‘Sue’s Visit to the Museum I/II/III’ Caroline Johnson, Mixed media on paper, 2022

Caroline Johnson illustrates Sue’s visit to the museum’s Living Cultures stores. Here she was introduced to objects that were made using string and knotting techniques similar to her own macrame skills.

Sue’s Choices from the Museum’s Collections

Sue chose this Japanese ivory carving of a skeleton and rat in acknowledgement of her own physicality. Having been born with Spina-Bifida, which means her spinal cord didn’t develop properly in the womb, and Scoliosis, which is an S shaped curvature of the spine, Sue was keen to include this meticulously carved skeleton with its intricate depiction of a spine. She also chose this tiny but beautifully crafted hand, with its elegantly curved thumb, which is similar in shape to her own.

These objects illustrate the breadth of uses, both decorative and practical that knitting, knotting and netting string plays throughout global culture.

‘The Dab Hand’, Lucy Burscough,jute rope and aluminium. 2022

This hanging sculpture is the bones of the hand in crocheted rope pointing to the Dab Hands exhibition. Dab Hands celebrates the relationship we have with our hands as a species of makers and tool-employing craftspeople. Lucy wanted to make a rope hand to celebrate the anatomy that allows humans to manipulate materials like twine in so many ways, like Sue making a macrame plant hanger or fisherfolk tying their nets. The sculpture is crocheted in jute rope. Jute rope was used because it’s colour echoes that of its neighbour in the museum, the skeleton of a baby sperm whale, and because of its historical connections to seafaring and whaling. The industry of spinning and weaving jute began as a by-product of whaling in the eighteenth century when it was discovered that the whale oil mixed with raw jute enabled workers to spin the fibre.

The Gary Fulton Collection

‘Gary Fulton’s Ceramic Zoetrope’, Gary Fulton and Lucy Burscough, mixed media, 2021

Zoetropes were a forerunner to cinema, dating from Victorian times. When you look through the slats on the side of the bowl and you can see an animation of Gary Fulton, ‘The One Armed Potter’, ‘pulling up’ clay, one of the tricker techniques when throwing a pot. Gary lost the use of his right arm in a motorcycle accident and has learnt to throw in the time since his accident. You can see some of Gary’s pots in the glass cabinets. Instagram @OneArmedPotter

‘Gary Throws a Pot’ by Caroline Johnson, Mixed media on paper, 2021

Ceramic Bowls with Fingerprints: larger, Italy, 2nd half of 2nd century AD; smaller, East Gaulish, 1st or 2nd century AD

 These pieces from the museum’s collection are of particular interest as the process of decorating them in slip has accidentally captured the ancient maker’s fingerprints. One of the beautiful things about crafting is the connection that can be made between practitioners across the world and across time.

A potter can recognise and appreciate the materials, techniques, skill and stylistic flourishes of a fellow potter, even though there may be hundreds, if not thousands of years separating them.

The Barry Bate Collection

‘Barry Bate, Spoon Carver’ Lucy Burscough, oil on oak, 2021

Barry Bate became involved with Dab Hands after meeting Lucy at a craft workshop in the Maggie’s Cancer Support Centre. Lucy commented on the beautifully carved wooden spoon Barry wore around his neck. It was one of his. The conversation that followed was as wide-ranging as it was fascinating, moving from spoon-carving to the craftsmen of 15th century Scandinavia, to the treasures of the Mary Rose and the teaching of crafts in German schools. It was only when Lucy asked Barry if he would like to play a part in Dab Hands that he shared his tragic news: his doctors at The Christie had given him a terminal diagnosis and he was nearing the end of his life.

Barry’s Sloyd Knife. Handle carved by Barry Bate to fit his hand.

Despite his diagnosis, Barry was still willing to be involved with the project. He not only shared the techniques of spoon carving but also his experiences of undergoing debilitating treatment regimes, of facing mortality and the practical but pressing desire to redistribute his treasured tools. His ability to scratch out of scraps of humour in the darkest of these tales, was testament to his wonderfully warm character.

Japanese Tea Making Set

In his final months, Barry met with Lucy, when lockdowns allowed, to record interviews and capture images. He was eventually able to visit the museum to look at the spoons held in the collection and share his thoughts on how they were made. He picked out his favourite for display: this beautiful Japanese tea making set, elegantly formed to fit in the hand and so delicate as to be almost translucent.

‘Barry’s Visit to the Museum I/II’ by Caroline Johnson, mixed media on paper, 2021

Barry’s visit to the museum to chose objects to go into his exhibit is captured beautifully in these illustrations by Caroline Johnson.

Japanese Woodworking Tools and Ivory Shoe-Maker

These objects highlight the extent to which exquisite craftsmanship is revered within Japanese culture, as acknowledged by Barry when choosing the Japanese tea set.

‘The Last Dream’, Barry Bate, mixed media, 2021

“My name is Barry Bate. I have been a ‘maker’ all my life – an artisan rather than an artist. Recently I have been working with ‘green’ (unseasoned) timber making bowls, spoons, spreaders and shrink pots using carving axes and knives.

18 months ago, I was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. I was offered treatment, and this involved chemotherapy. Eventually I had to stop taking the treatment due to the neuropathy which manifested itself in my feet, calves, forearms, and hands. The sculpture is an attempt to convey the strange experience of having continuous ‘pins and needles’ in your hands and fingers and how disconcerting this can be. Nothing now feels like it has done for the last 60 years.”

The Stages of Carving a Spoon by Barry Bate, 2021

In the late Spring of 2021, despite losing feeling in his hands due to chemotherapy, Barry made his last carvings, the set of spoons, displayed here, that describe the stages of spoon carving. Barry revelled in sharing the joy that can be found in working with wood and seeing the bowl or spoon that was hidden within, in connecting, through making, with the craftspeople of the past and in sparking that interest in those who were lucky enough to cross paths with him. Barry died in August 2021.

‘Barry’s Hands at Work’,Lucy Burscough and Barry Bate,mixed media 2021-22

This carving of Barry’s hands was made before and after his death. Barry carved the spoon and the tool’s handle and Lucy carved Barry’s hands at work.

The Katy Stanton Collection

‘Knitting Poem’ by Katie Stanton. Mixed media 2022

Katie made this artwork to illustrate her own poem. She writes,

“ ‘Brambles’ came out in February 2021 as I was having surgery to remove a third of each of my lungs. I'd recently been given 12 months to live, and the operation was a last-ditch attempt to save my life following a series of failed chemo and immunotherapy treatments.

I wrote this knitting poem, my best most favourite poem, a couple of weeks later, high on painkillers.

I am still alive.”

Knitting Poem

As ribs slide

Over cartilage that clicks

My thorax knits

My bones are ivory needles

Pulling the slick yarn of me together

I am recrafted

Ancient Egyptian Canopic Jar, Limestone

 A set of four canopic jars was an important element of the burial in Ancient Egypt. Canopic jars were containers in which the separately mummified organs would be placed.

 As Katie’s poem relates to her healing following lung surgery, she chose to display a canopic jar depicting Hapi, the baboon headed God whose jar contained the lungs and was protected by the goddess Nephthys. Nephthys was also considered a festive deity whose rites could inspire the liberal consumption of beer. She took beer offerings so the pharaoh “may have joy with no hangover".

Katie works in a pub.

‘Brambles’, Book of Poems by Katie Stanton

Katie has been a regular participant at Maggie’s Manchester’s creative writing group which is led by an inspiring tutor, Clare Stuart. Clare encouraged Katie to publish this book of poetry and asked Lucy to illustrate it with drawings of brambles, a theme that runs throughout Katie’s poetry.

Katie’s Tattoo by Henbo Henning

Katie writes,

“My cancer was first diagnosed in my knee joint. It caused a lot of vascular damage, so after I'd healed from radiotherapy and my first surgery I got this tattoo to cover up my now varicosed veins. 

 Like a lot of kids I grew up foraging brambles and getting covered in the purple pink stains, scratched up and bleeding but reaping a harvest of sweet tart berries. Behind these brambles is a struggle with a sweet result.”

Chosen by Katie, an illustration of Common bramble or blackberry, Rubus fruticosus. A hand coloured copperplate engraving after a drawing by James Sowerby for James Smith's English Botany, 1800.