Today we took Christian Becksvoort to the Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill to see some of the buildings and – we hoped – some of the furniture. For more than a year, the meeting house and Centre Family Dwelling have been under construction. And the majority of the village’s furniture collection has been in storage.
Recently we heard they were opening the Centre Family Dwelling for tours and we drove to the central Kentucky village to see whatever we could.
After a visit to the newly restored meeting house and a substantial Kentucky lunch, we arrived for a tour of the Centre Family Dwelling. Thanks to the bad weather (snow, spitty snow and rain) the only people on the tour were Chris, Megan Fitzpatrick, two other women and me.
When we walked in, it was like seeing the building when it was new in 1834. You could smell the fresh plaster and paint. The floors were bare and unfinished. The rooms were empty. And it was just us and 21,000 square feet of building.
The $5.1 million restoration added geothermal HVAC to the building, new lighting (sorry, but I’m not a fan of it) and fresh paint and repairs.
I thought I’d be disappointed to see the building without all the furniture. I’ve visited Pleasant Hill about 20 times since 1993, and I think of many of the rooms and furniture pieces there as familiar friends. But the empty building was a bit of a revelation. And you won’t be able to see it like this for long.
Starting later this month, you’ll be able to tour the building without a guide. And there won’t be exhibits or objects displayed in the building until November 2019 (or later). So if you want to see the building in its purest form, now is the time.
When Megan Fitzpatrick posted the frontispiece of Christian Becksvoort’s latest book, Shaker Inspiration, on Instagram a few months back, I knew I would be placing an order. Not only have I admired Becksvoort’s work for decades; the frontispiece was utterly lovely, promising yet another beautiful and informative book from Lost Art Press.
What I did not expect was a book that offers as much to the professional or would-be professional woodworker as to the ardent Shaker furniture fan. In addition to a sizable section devoted to Shaker furniture, with measured drawings of Becksvoort’s own designs and reproduction pieces along with a portfolio of drool-worthy classics, the eminently readable book encompasses wood technology (informed by the author’s academic background in forestry), no-nonsense discussion of training possibilities, tips and techniques (several of them new to me) and invaluable advice on what’s involved in setting up a business and running it successfully.
Those who have read my book Making Things Work will be aware of the importance I attach to being honest about the sometimes-brutal realities of basing your livelihood on furniture making. Ever since I read Becksvoort’s no-holds-barred reply in Fine Woodworking to a reader’s letter asking how to make a living as a furniture maker, I have wanted to shake his hand.
After weeks of looking forward to that handshake, I relinquished the opportunity to meet Mr. Becksvoort at yesterday’s Lost Art Press event due to the forecast for several inches of snow combined intermittently with the dreaded “wintry mix.” But I’m looking forward to seeing him in April at Fine Woodworking Live.
Seriously diminished in volume after 24 hours of temps hovering around freezing, the snow is still lovely to look at.
The Lost Art Press storefront is open today from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. And at 7 p.m. we are throwing a party for Christian Becksvoort to celebrate his new book “Shaker Inspiration.”
The event is free. We will have drinks and snacks. And Chris will give a presentation of his work, sign books and shake hands. Come visit a living woodworking legend in one of his few visits to the Midwest.
The storefront is at 837 Willard St., Covington, Ky 41011. We have our complete line of books for sale, plus some blemished books at 50 percent off. Come see Brendan working on his Chester Cornett rocker. Megan’s working on a Dutch tool chest and I’m working on two Welsh stick chairs.
The contents of our trash receptacles say a lot about us. I drink Twining’s English breakfast tea, have a AAA membership, and eat the occasional Boca Burger.
No matter how many years of experience you have at your craft, you can’t afford to stop learning.
Kitchen cabinet making is viewed as an inferior form of woodworking by many of those who reproduce 18th-century Philadelphia highboys. Well, let them feel superior. The fact is, building kitchen cabinets requires endless learning–not least because hardware manufacturers are constantly inventing new products to make life “better.”
Sometimes I feel like cabinetmakers have become the doctors of the cutting-edge hardware world. We’re visited by hardware company salespersons and bombarded with literature about new products that will open doors, close drawers, lift lids, hide appliances, and make exhaust vents invisible. Our clients see these wonders in their neighbors’ kitchens or advertised in magazines and want them (just as yours truly asked her doctor about Cologuard as an alternative to colonoscopy, thanks to the manufacturer’s underwriting announcements on NPR).*
My basic attitude toward such gizmos is the equivalent of the sign on my doctor’s office door: Pharmaceutical Representatives Not Welcome. In my kitchen, the cabinet doors hang on surface-mounted butterfly hinges and we toss our trash into a freestanding can beneath the sink. I like simple.
Things are different when I’m discussing hardware with clients. It is, after all, their kitchen. Consider trash. There’s a spectrum of ways to store it until you’re ready to take it outside. As with most cabinet detail decisions, I go through all the relevant options. We start with a fork in the road: Would you like a freestanding trash can (or unassuming bin beneath the sink), or would you prefer a dedicated trash cabinet?
One of the dreamy offerings from VippQuite a bit less dreamy: a plain bin stashed under the sink. (This one’s ours.)
If the former, congratulations! You’re done. Just put the thing in your kitchen and get cooking. Choose the latter and you’ve launched the cabinetmaker’s equivalent of an automated answering system—Enter your account number followed by the pound sign. Press 1 for customer service. Now press 2 for residential or 3 for commercial. Etc.
How will the cabinet open? Will it have a door on hinges or be made like a drawer? Will tossing that tea bag wrapper mean reaching into the cabinet, or will the trash receptacle slide out to meet you?
Made that decision? Good. However, you’re still not done.
You can either buy a pull-out unit or make one. If you’re going to make it, will the design allow for bottom-mounted runners (such as Blum Tandem slides) or will it need to be side-mounted higher up to counteract the stress on the door if the pull is at the top?
Are you willing to use a knob or drawer pull, or do you want the unit to open hands-free? If the former, great; just install it. If the latter, there are several further options, from a foot-operated pedal that pushes the unit open to an electric servo drive.
(Servo drives? Are we still talking about trash?)
***
My most recent kitchen job called for a cabinet dedicated to trash and recyclables that would open hands-free. At first I planned to fabricate a pedal—not just any pedal, but one with sufficient oomph to break the grip of the little man who hides at the back of every Blum Tandem with Blumotion drawer slide (or the Blum Movento slides that came with the Rev-A-Shelf waste and recyclables unit I had purchased). I wasn’t thrilled about installing a pedal, because the sink area is the first thing you see on entering the dining room; a pedal dangling beneath such an exposed cabinet just seemed too reminiscent of a tampon string. The kinds of objects that might logically be hanging down from a trash cabinet (a nicely printed sardine or spice can could be epoxied to the bare metal bar I imagined using in place of a pedal; my second suggestion was to carve a cute wooden mouse and stick it to the metal bar) are not likely to appeal to most people commissioning cabinetry. Trash falling out of the waste receptacle? A mouse trying to climb in? These were bound to reflect badly on the cabinetmaker or the clients, respectively.
Fully exposed. The trash cabinet in my most recent kitchen is prominently in view from the dining room.
I called my hardware company and asked about the trash container equivalent of a touch latch. Of course such hardware exists; in my supplier’s case, it’s the Blum Tip-On with Blumotion unit, a nice middle ground between the pedal and the servo drive. With a bit of help from Sarah Gates of Blum’s customer service team, I got the thing installed. It works like a charm.
*Note: The clients in this example did not suggest the hardware I used for their trash pullout. I did.
This door in my most recent kitchen build conceals a Rev-a-Shelf waste and recyclables unit on Blum Movento slides with hands-free action. See it in action here. For some hard-won tips on retrofitting this unit with the Tip-On system, see my post at Popular Woodworking.
