9. Chairmaker Peter Galbert will be teaching classes there. We are currently editing a book on chairmaking by Peter that is fantastic – he is drawing all the illustrations. Peter also should have some of his ingenious Drawsharp jigs at WIA that make it easy to rehab a drawknife. Check out Peter’s chairs on his site. Really, really good stuff.
I don’t know how many tool chests I’ve built or helped build since 2011 when “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” was published. But I can tell you this: Every class is both brutal and special.
I finished up teaching my latest tool chest class at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking in Washington state and just landed back in Kentucky. This class was particularly special because my assistant was Rob Campbell, who writes The Joiner’s Apprentice blog.
Though Rob and I have only crossed paths a couple times, we see the world similarly and have built our personal lives around the craft and trying to isolate ourselves from excessive consumption and corporate America.
So it was a huge pleasure to work with him all week, building a project we both knew intimately, and to get the opportunity to swap tips and ideas.
And on top of all that, the students in this class were off-the-hook wacko. And that’s a good thing. During some classes, I have to restrain my humor a bit because it is difficult for some to swallow. These 10 guys were as messed up as I.
If you want to read Rob’s account of the class, check out his entry.
This morning I walked to a coffee shop in Port Townsend, Wash., to jolt myself awake. And as the barista handed me my cup he looked at my shirt.
“Is that ‘A’ for ‘anarchy?’” he asked.
“Why yes it is,” I replied, forgetting I was wearing an “Anarchist’s Tool Chest” shirt below my hoodie.
“It also could be for ‘anonymous,’” the barista added.
I wish.
The square on the cover of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” is a cute little thing, and it shows up in surprising places, the wall of the Port Townsend School of Woodworking, Rwanda and in students’ tool boxes.
Yesterday, one of the students, Bill, pulled out a set of them that were graduated in size. All of them had different details and joinery. Very cool.
Whenever I teach a class, I insist on building the project with the students. No shortcuts. No asking assistants to do my chopping. No afterhours CNC.
I do this for several reasons.
1. I want to demonstrate that the techniques I use are genuine. It would be easy for me to say: Do this. And then nitpick the students as they try to do my bidding. Screw that. If I can’t build it in the time allowed, how can they?
2. It makes me a faster joiner. When I build the project alongside the students I have to push myself to build it to a high standard. I have to be much faster than they are. And I have to float around the room and assist them as I work. I have to be able to produce tight joints while totally distracted. I have to do it while I’m talking. Honestly, I should be paying the students for the training this gives me.
3. It shows the students that anyone can do this. One of the frequent criticisms of my work is that I am “just a journalist.” That I don’t have “traditional training.” And I am not a “professional woodworker.”
All that is true. I don’t deny it. And I don’t care.
If I can build this stuff without some paper certificate, then you can, too. You can build stuff to a much higher level than many professional woodworkers, many of whom have to rely on pocket screws and biscuits to make a living (and there is NOTHING wrong with that).
It is the amateur class that can afford to make furniture to a crazy high standard. So bring it. Whether you are “just a programmer,” “just a firefighter” or “just an engineer,” you can build stuff that will last “just 200 years.”
Here’s what stinks about teaching woodworking classes: You don’t have any time to take them yourself.
One of the classes at the top of my list is to take a carving class with Peter Follansbee, one of the authors of “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree.” Of all the carving traditions out there, I am most enamored with the simple geometry of the 17th-century stuff. And Peter is a riot.
When I was teaching up at the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking, I saw that Peter was teaching a weekend class there. I got excited, until I saw the date: Sept. 14-15. I’ll be on a plane to England.
Stupid England.
Anyway, that doesn’t mean that you can’t go to the class. If you are at all interested in this topic, I can’t recommend anyone more highly. Details on the class here.