“Time brings its revenges. Nowadays the secular world which dispossessed the monks has entered into an age where few of its own treasures are respected by an enemy. To-day a new generation of craftsmen is rebuilding the roof [on] Gray’s Inn, bombed during the war, rebuilding it to the old plan, perhaps even inwardly rebellious because, being used to the new materials, the new methods, the new tools, to them hammer beams and fretted vaults may well seem little more than dust traps. And indeed sometimes one wonders whether there is any sense in patching up old buildings when the spirit that once gave them life is lost. Yet how can do we otherwise when so many associations, so many sentiments and traditions of the past are linked up with them. Blot out a building and you blot out so much more than a building. You blot out something of the past. And however much times and methods and tools may change the past gives us back our courage and pride.”
“Shaker Inspiration,” Christian’s Becksvoort’s new book, is a bit different than most Lost Art Press titles; it’s part inspiration (both for the reader, and a look at the Shaker furniture tradition that has inspired much of Becksvoort’s furniture), part woodworking and design how-to (including some of the high-end touches he incorporates into his work), and part business advice, from a woodworker who has made a living at the bench for many decades (though one of the keys to his success is the time he spends away from the bench, at his drawing board and talking with clients). Also included are measured drawings for 20 projects: 13 are signature Becksvoort pieces (including the 15-drawer chest pictured above); the other seven are reproductions (and near-reproductions) of Shaker pieces he’s made time and again.
Below is a taste of what you’ll find inside.
— Fitz
Introduction
Opinionated? You bet. Nobody goes through life without forming strong likes, dislikes and opinions.
Informative? Positive. Again, working at a craft for five decades or more, one acquires, skills, knowledge and techniques that want to be shared.
Interesting and inspirational? I hope so. Let me state right here and now, however, that this is not intended to be the definitive last word. Nor is it intended to be a path to woodworking nirvana, nor a silver bullet for your business – and I’m not trying to foist my inspirations off on you. I am not a marketing specialist, lawyer, financial advisor or PR guru. What follows is just an overview of what has worked for me – a sharing of my experiences, failures and successes. Feel free to follow your own path. If any of my suggestions motivate or spark your own creativity, all the better.
Rigid? Not. I try to find a balance in my shop, and to suggest other options. I am not an “unplugged” or “silent” woodworker. I can’t make a living without machines. Nor am I a power-tool fanatic. I think that items spit out by CNC machines are useful for mass production, but have nothing to do with craftsmanship. I use hand tools where it shows, and machines where it doesn’t. You make your own choices.
Remember what’s important to you, your family, your friends, your standards, your idea of “craftsmanship.” Remember to volunteer, to give back and to help others.
On Craftsmanship
Craftsmanship is a tough concept to get your head around. Even the dictionary gives it short shrift. “Skill in a particular craft.” Pretty lame. This is a bit better: “The quality of design and work shown in something made by hand; artistry.” Much closer. I guess it’s one of those abstract impressions that’s hard to define, but you know when you see it. It has to do with skill, accuracy, artistry, expertise, technique, workmanship and sometimes even design. That’s thanks to a hunt through the thesaurus. What all those words have in common is a connection to the human hand and heart. That, I think, reiterates the notion of practice stated in Chapter 2: Do anything long enough and you become good at it. You develop and become proficient at craftsmanship.
I think that brings up the very important notion of standards. What are your standards when building a desk, cutting dovetails or finishing? Chances are that your standards are not mine. We all strive for a different benchmark.
A Few Leftovers
Lastly, here are few miscellaneous techniques and jigs that don’t warrant a whole section of their own, so they’re just lumped together here. First, you’ve probably been told that there is no such thing as a board stretcher. Well I beg to differ. Suppose you have only a 1′ x 3′ (30.5cm x 91cm) piece of pine left. What you really need is a piece 4′ (1.22m) long, and maybe 7″ (18cm) wide. Here’s the deal: Cut the board diagonally, plane the cut edge, and slide the two halves past each other until your reach the desired length, then glue up. Not too shabby, is it?
Now suppose you have that same, single board, but you want it 16″ (40.6cm) wide, but only 22″ (56cm) long. Same deal. Again, cut the board diagonally, plane, slide the two halves in the other direction, and glue them together. True, in both cases you do lose some footage (meterage?). Hey, nothing in life is free, it’s all a matter of making the best of a less-than-desirable situation.
Customer Records
In the office corner of my shop I keep all my paper records. The computer lives in the house. It doesn’t do well with dust. Dust is not an issue with a tablet or phone. Ever try to write an article or a book on a touch-screen tablet? No chance. All my important papers are in a file cabinet in the “office.” The bottom drawer has various leftover goodies, the next drawer has woodworking and supply catalogs, the third drawer has files for safety sheets, tool service manuals, shop drawings, ideas, non-customer correspondence and a variety of miscellaneous files. The top drawer has my customer files. The phone sits on top of the file cabinet.
For each customer, I have manila file with their last name on the tab in alphabetical order. Inside is their address and phone number, email address, correspondence copies of any drawings or sketches I have sent, and a list of what they’ve ordered in the past. When a customer calls with a question, issue or a request, I can pull their file and make a note, or check a drawing if there is a problem. Because I work alone, if there is an issue, I know exactly what the issue is. Most commonly, it’s usually a new customer with a new piece, and the first time they cleaned the cabinet top and moved the lamp, they discovered a light spot under the lamp. Or it’s maybe someone who wants a replica of a piece I built a few years ago, for child number two. All the information I have is immediately at hand. I can’t stress organization enough, in all aspects of the business.
Shaker Classics
Shown here are a few pieces that typify classic Shaker design. Many consider Shaker furniture to be “simple.” That’s far from the reality. It’s unadorned, for sure, but often more complex than the pieces appear. The designs, aesthetics, joinery and meticulous craftsmanship are truly created as an “act of worship.” True, not all Shaker pieces were perfect. The range of workmanship is evident in nailed-together drawers made for shop use, while those for offices and dwelling houses were fastidiously dovetailed. Likewise, not all Shaker woodworkers had the same degree of talent or experience. But as a general rule of thumb, antiques are old because they were built well. …
The pieces shown here are a mix of early, mostly classic and some Victorian. Many have been shown in other publications, and are fairly representative of the Shaker style. A few are making a first time appearance here.
My association with the Shakers at Sabbathday Lake started in the mid ’70s. My interest, area of expertise and my vocation is furniture – specifically, Shaker furniture. Yet, by concentrating on this one small facet of the Shakers’ contribution to society, I am in some respects, short-changing them. When Mother Ann Lee and her followers landed in New York in 1774, furniture was the farthest thing from their minds.
The Shakers, whose official name is the United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing, are first and foremost a Christian, celibate and communal religious sect. Their arts, crafts and inventions are purely secondary to their theology, the life of Christ, which also stresses pacifism, equality of the sexes and races. In the larger context, that is a more important legacy than their material creations. However, it is my hope that through their furniture, it may ignite in some readers a further interest in this small but highly influential social and religious group of progressives.
These 16 pieces represent just a fraction of the furniture that the Shakers produced. Should you get the chance, take a look at the genuine article. Visit the Shaker museums at Harvard or Hancock, Mass., Watervliet and Mt. Lebanon, N.Y., Canterbury and Enfield, N.H., Pleasant Hill and South Union, Ky., Shaker Heights, Ohio, or Alfred and New Gloucester, Maine. Seeing the objects, the history, the colors and the workmanship up close and personal is an amazing experience. It has sustained me for decades, and hopefully will leave a lasting impression on you as well.
“Shaker Inspiration: Five Decades of Fine Craftsmanship,” by Christian Becksvoort, is now available for pre-publication ordering. The book is $43 and will ship in November 2018. All customers who order the book before it ships will receive a free pdf download of the book at checkout.
About 24 hours after getting off an airplane from Munich, I climbed into my pickup truck with Brendan Gaffney to drive to Jennie Alexander’s final workshop and home on Light Street in Baltimore, Md.
This week, with the help of family, friends and colleagues, we are finishing what Larry Barrett and I began more than five years ago when we visited Jennie and plotted out the third edition of “Make a Chair From a Tree.” She was going to write the text. Larry was going to help. And I was going to edit it. Somewhere along the way, we were going to build the chair for the book using the methods that Jennie had refined during her long relationship with the chair.
During the last five years, Jennie worked on the book, tinkering and refining it over and over with the help of Larry (at first) and later Jennie Boyd, who took care of Jennie during the last couple years. Jennie Alexander resisted my gentle nudgings to finish the job. I wanted to get the book published so she could see how it was received. She didn’t want to run out of things to occupy her mind and fingers.
So the book was stuck in neutral for several years.
When Jennie died, I was afraid the book was lost. Luckily, Jennie’s daughter, Harper Burke, made sure that would not happen. Jennie’s house is for sale, but I am typing this blog entry in her workshop, which has remained largely intact thanks to Harper, Peter Follansbee and a host of other people (whom Harper calls the “Woodpuckies”). We have Jennie’s workbench. Her kiln. Her shavehorse. Her tools.
And, thanks to Larry, we have a nearly completed manuscript.
Yesterday we assembled a “Jennie Chair” (which is what Jennie calls it in the manuscript) with Larry at the helm. Harper and Jennie Boyd watched, asked questions and told us stories about Jennie Alexander.
The production of this book will involve people from every aspect of Jennie’s life. Nathaniel Krause will be here tonight to add the hickory bark seat. Peter Follansbee is going to read the text for technical problems. Jennie Alexander took a strong liking to Megan Fitzpatrick, so she will be the copy editor. During Jennie’s last months, she asked Brendan Gaffney to do the drawings. So he’s here taking measurements and helping with the photography.
And I’m here trying to make sure this gets done. I’m taking the photos and will be designing the book (much like I did with David Savage’s “The Intelligent Hand”) to keep the whole thing “in the family” or “among the puckies,” so to speak.
The goal is to have the book out by the summer. It’s going to be different than the other two editions of this landmark book. It will reflect Jennie’s thinking on her chair at the end of her life. It will be in full color. Hardbound. On nice coated paper. And it will include many appendices that will touch on Jennie’s influence in woodworking, a review of the types of chairs she made, and alternative approaches to her chair that have been developed during the last 30+ years.
This is not exactly how I wanted this story to end. But it will have to do.
The cute-as-a-bird-butt 10’ tape measures for Stanley’s 175th anniversary can be difficult to find. They get snatched up by collectors as soon as they hit the shelves.
For the last week I’ve been studying the 200 photos I took at St Fagans and thinking about the 29 chairs that Chris Williams and I examined during our visit there. The chairs look a lot different to me now – they are somehow even more beautiful.
In this blog entry, I’d like to point out some of the details I’ve noticed in these 29 chairs. Please note that I am not trying to make any generalizations about these particular chairs or Welsh chairs in general. The more chairs I get to study, the more variations I encounter.
Instead, these are the details that stood out in this particular group of 29 chairs. Some of these details will be useful as I make more Welsh-inspired chairs in the coming months. Perhaps this discussion will be useful to you.
The Shape of the Sticks Most contemporary chairs – or reproductions – tend to have sticks that feature “entasis,” a subtle swelling of the stick or spindle. This entasis, which is found extensively in the built world (especially Greek columns), is pleasing to the eye.
Many of the Welsh chairs I examined at St Fagans featured sticks that were dead straight, bent, slightly wonky and, yes, with entasis. What appears obvious after looking at hundreds of these sticks is that a fair number of them likely came straight from the hedge. And so they had some natural curve or bend to them.
Bottom line: There is no rule when making sticks for these chairs. Add entasis if you like. If you prefer dead-straight sticks, the furniture record will support that choice as well.
Saddled Seats Of the 29 seats we examined, 12 were saddled and the remainder were not. Almost all of the saddles were quite shallow. And only a few featured any sort of pommel. None featured a gutter between the sticks and the saddle.
The issue of comfort comes up time and again with these chairs. Are they comfortable? How can they possibly be comfortable? While we weren’t able to sit in any of the 29 chairs, I have enough experience with them to know that a chair with a lightly saddled seat can be sat in for hours. I’ve been sitting in one every evening for 15 years.
You can obviously improve the comfort of any of these chairs with a cushion, blanket or sheepskin. When we visited John Brown’s home at Pantry Fields, one of his chairs was decked out with a sheepskin, and it quite added to the handsomeness of the form.
Undercarriages Few of the chairs featured an undercarriage. Of the 29 examples, six chairs had an undercarriage (or the remnants of one). Some were H-shaped; others skipped the middle brace of the “H.”
I make chairs both ways – with an undercarriage and without. There are visual and structural advantages and disadvantages to each approach. What is my preference? To make what the customer wants. They are both valid approaches.
Armbows I wasn’t prepared for the wild variety of armbows I encountered at St Fagans. It’s fair to say that the armbow seems to be the heart of a Welsh chair (whereas the seat is the heart of a Windsor chair). The arms varied widely in shape, from one that was V-shaped to one that looked like three sides of a box.
They also varied greatly in their construction. Some of the armbows were made from one piece of curved wood, but most were pieced together from two or three pieces of wood. The joints varied from simple butt joints to mitered half-laps.
The Wood It’s clear that we moderns are spoiled with the wood we use. Many of these old Welsh chairs were made with wood that would never make it out of a modern sawmill, much less into a woodworking project. The seats were filled with knots and deep fissures. Stick were bent and twisted (and not from old age).
Despite the No. 6 grade lumber, the chairs were things of beauty. That is due to the chairs’ graphic forms, which trumped the grain at almost every turn.
There’s more to discuss – the shape of the hands on the armbows, the great variations in crest rails and the rake and splay of the legs, for example. This will have to do for now.