Christian Becksvoort, at the 2014 Lie-Nielsen Toolworks open house.
Just a reminder that you’re invited to Christian Becksvoort’s “Shaker Inspiration” book release party on Jan. 12, from 7-10 p.m. – plus he’ll be in and out during the Lost Art Press open house that day (10 a.m-5 p.m.).
Christian will give a presentation on his work and a short reading from his new book (and sign copies of it and his other books if you like); we’ll have snacks, beer and wine, and non-alcoholic beverage choices).
If you plan to attend the evening shindig, please send me an email at [email protected] to let me know how many are in your party (so we don’t run out of provisions).
A craftsman whose work I have long admired recently mentioned that he’d noticed lots of kitchens in my Instagram feed and asked whether I enjoy the work or just do it to pay the bills.
“A friend in advertising gave me this advice,” he continued. “’Only show what you want to sell,’ so I have no kitchen photos, and slowly transitioned entirely into furniture.”
My answer to his question: I do enjoy building kitchens—in fact, I love it—and I do it to pay the bills. It’s because I have bills to pay that I’ve cultivated the ability to make my work lovable.
I am one of those people who thrive on necessity. Were I independently wealthy, I would likely vacillate between paralyzing depression and the kind of perfectionism that prevents some of us from completing anything. Like the strictest teachers, necessity is my ally as well as my taskmaster.
This corner is nearly done. This 16″-deep cabinet will stand across from the fridge, so it will hold the kinds of things used for storing food (storage containers, food bags, wrapping materials) and function as a tea and coffee making area, with a drawer for boxes of tea, coffee filters, etc. The marble counter will have a tiled backsplash and integral lighting. The shelf above will house the microwave (we discussed whether it should be out or behind doors; given the way this family uses the kitchen, the decision was to leave it in the open, as this corner is not visible from the dining room). The cabinet is still waiting for trim at the ceiling, door and drawer pulls, and paint.
“I hated working outside the shop,” the long-admired craftsman added by way of elaboration. “Invariably there was always a tool I’d forgotten, and I detested working on my knees. Also dealing with crooked walls, sloping floors, and supervising customers.”
My knees and I can relate to all of this (especially at my own age of 59, when I am receiving unsolicited mail from purveyors of hearing aids).
Working on a jobsite takes you into a realm where you are not in charge. It’s like captaining a sailboat on the Great Lakes. You have to roll with what comes, whether that means scribing cabinets to a madly sloping floor/wall/ceiling, improvising in the tool department, or responding to a customer’s comment out of left field. (My favorite example of the latter comes from Ben Sturbaum of Golden Hands Construction, one of the wittiest carpenters I know, who answered a French customer’s criticism of his kitchen trim installation with “Do not judge my soufflé before it is finished.”)
Remodeling a kitchen is a hefty proposition at the best of times. On almost every job, there comes a point where I wonder why I take on such work. To continue the comparison with sailing, it’s that moment when the captain props her eyes open with toothpicks to enable an all-night traverse across the vastness before an approaching storm. Between the sheer scale of most kitchen jobs, the centrality of the kitchen to the customers’ daily life–you will be held responsible for the inconvenience of dishwashing in the bathtub, as well as for the fine layer of dust that inevitably circulates around the house, even with excellent dust barriers, though I wonder how much of that dust simply results from the cessation of house cleaning while a major remodel is underway–and the out-of-your-shop/comfort-zone reality of installing and trimming out built-ins, building a kitchen is an odyssey in the truest sense of that word. It will challenge your patience, your improvisational abilities, and maybe most importantly, your capacity for bending your will to necessity.
And that’s exactly what I love—though I should add that I love it partly because I don’t do kitchens all the time but intersperse them with freestanding furniture, design, teaching, and writing. The variety keeps me sane. I know this because I spent many years building furniture and cabinetry without the respite of writing and design.
Notched around the cased opening between kitchen and dining room, this birch counter is finished to match the house’s original trim.
But even more than the challenges of kitchen work, I love the opportunity kitchens offer to work with context. I’ll save that for next time.–Nancy Hiller, author of Making Things Work.
For a detailed look at some of the decisions that went into this kitchen’s design, click here.
I’m working right now on getting the list together for classes during the second half of 2019 (which will be posted in January), but we do still have a couple of earlier opportunities remaining due to cancellations. In calendar order, they are:
Brendan Gaffney’s Feb. 4-8, 2019, “Starting with Staked Furniture” class has two spaces available. “Students will build a simple staked bench and a staked chair using a hand-tool oriented tool set. The chair is a new design, which can be made with three, four or five legs based on the student’s preference (five legs is shown in the photograph above and furnishes the most practice and learning opportunities!). This class will revolve around the classic chairmaking skills, taught in a way comfortable for woodworkers of all abilities and backgrounds.”
Update: This one is now sold out (but do sign up for the waitlist if you’re interested!). Brendan’s March 30-31, 2019, “Høj Footstool” class has one space available. “This simple footstool is an easy way to introduce two basic chairmaking skills – making a simple post-and-rung construction and weaving a danish cord seat. The class will be broken into two parts; on the first day, students will build the footstool itself using simple techniques (well suited to non-chairmakers and chairmakers alike) and on the second day students will learn the “no-nail” method of weaving a Danish paper cord seat.”
Update: This one is now sold out (but do sign up for the waitlist if you’re interested!). Brendan’s May 18-19, 2019, Build a Krenov-style Handplane class has one spot available. “The laminated handplanes designed (and made famous) by James Krenov are as practical and fun to make as they are a joy to use. In this two-day class, students will make their own standard (45°) or York (50°) pitch smoothing plane and learn to sharpen, maintain and use these wonderful tools.”
Note: Some people are having trouble signing up for the waitlist – we’ve checked everything we can think of to check (and googled the problem). We cannot replicate the issue. So, if anyone else has trouble, send an email to [email protected] and I’ll manually register you for the waitlist in the order I receive said emails. Sorry.
Christian Becksvoort’s new book, “Shaker Inspiration” is hot off the press (if you’ve already ordered, look for it in your mailbox soon) – and he’s making the trip from Maine to the Lost Art Press Shop in Covington, Ky., for a book release party on Jan. 12, from 7-10 p.m. (plus he’ll be in and out during the Lost Art Press open house that day).
Christian will give a presentation on his work, and a short reading from his new book (and sign copies of it and his other books if you like!), and we’ll feed and water you (snacks, beer and wine, and non-alcoholic choices).
If you plan to come to the “Shaker Inspiration” book release party, please send me an email at covingtonmechanicals.com. You are welcome to bring your family – just let us know how many people will be coming.
And, Christian is teaching a one-day class on Friday, Jan. 11: All About Dovetails. Registration for that goes live at 10 a.m. on Monday, Dec. 3. Note that if you’re one of registrants (six only!), we’ll ask that you bring a check or cash for Chris ($190) to the class – so with no pre-payment to help hold you to it, we’re trusting you’ll show up! (If you get into the class on Monday but later find you can’t make it, please send me an email (to [email protected]) right away, so we can offer it to the first person on the waitlist.)
