Lost Art Press

My father and I were very close. But there was one point of friction in our relationship: My career.

He thought I could do better (he was probably right), and he insisted I would make a good lawyer. So in 1993, I applied to law school at Ohio State, was accepted and enrolled. But instead of attending law school, Lucy and I moved south. I took a woodworking class at the University of Kentucky, and here we are today.

My career remained a sore point, and it was the only thing my dad and I would argue about (aside from where to eat dinner or how many appetizers to order).

The thing that would relieve this pressure – oddly enough – was meeting David Savage.

I’d long admired David’s work as a designer, builder and writer. On all three counts he is fearless, and it seemed to me he would build, write or say whatever was on his mind. And he didn’t care if people liked it or not.

He invited me to an early dinner one day when I was teaching in England, and the idea frightened me out of my wits. (It also frightened my students. One commented: “You know, he took took that surname of his for a reason….”) I wouldn’t have been surprised if David had showed up wearing a cape.

Instead, during that dinner, David became an immediate father figure for me. And that’s a totally weird thing to happen to me – I don’t latch onto people quickly or easily. David then invited me to teach a class at his shop in Devon and to take a class there on veneering. I accepted.

During my weeks at Rowden Workshops, I slept in a nearby inn and would bum a ride to the shop each morning. When I couldn’t get a ride, David would pick me up, sometimes in his Morgan. With the car’s top down he’d blast through the sunken Devon roads as I silently prayed that a huge truck (lorry) wasn’t speeding our way around the upcoming corner (sometimes it was).

Somehow we got to talking about my father, who was fighting cancer at the time – a fight David had yet to commence. I laid it all out.

After a couple minutes of silence – just the wind and the roar of the engine – David said: “He’s proud of you. Don’t be silly.”

And that was that. Hearing it from David made it real, and I stopped worrying about it. Occasionally I wonder why that clicked. In some ways, David and my dad were incredibly similar. Both came from humble beginnings and went “all the way” in society. My dad was the first person in our family to go to college. He became a physician, which was a stunning leap of caste for our family of brickmakers and paper salesmen. David went to the Ruskin School at Oxford, then the Royal Academy. Both are highly opinionated and frustratingly good at everything. Snappy dressers. Artistic, with a good eye for color and design. And both had little regard for what the world thought of them.

So it made sense when David told me about his cancer diagnosis and his desire to get this book done by the end of summer (a timeline that is like evolving a camel into a thoroughbred in a few months’ time) that I immediately replied: “Of course.”

And here we are with David’s book, “The Intelligent Hand,” off to press. For obvious reasons, I’m too close to this project to offer you a valid opinion. But I don’t regret a single minute of the last six months we worked on this. Or the anxiety of not getting it done in time. The priceless drawings that went missing for awhile. Or the (I won’t bore you with them) technical difficulties.

Through this book, some of you might see the same thing in David that I saw years ago when we met. It’s not something everyone is looking for. It’s a high, almost unattainable, standard to which to aspire. It keeps you up at night, sketching. It makes you destroy any substandard work from your hands. It makes you want to wear a cape (just kidding about that last part).

“The Intelligent Hand” is available for pre-publication ordering in our store. Details are here.

— Christopher Schwarz

Books are a lot like meat. The way we make books at Lost Art Press is like braising – we cook things low and slow. We poke at the piece occasionally, and give it time to simmer in its own juices. And we don’t call it done until it’s done.

Setting aside the meaty metaphor for a second, that means most books take about four years from the day we sign a contract to the day the book is released.

OK, back to meat. David Savage’s “The Intelligent Hand” was a lot like making dinner in a pressure cooker on a Tuesday night for a famished family. It had to get done quickly. It had to be really good. And no one could get hurt.

The reason for the pressure was David’s cancer diagnosis. On the day he received the grim news, David started writing this book, even though neither of us knew exactly what it was going to be about.

It begins with some of the best lines to ever kick off a woodworking book:

“Well Mr. Savage, I am sorry to tell you the results of your tests are not good. If you play your cards right you may have two years, three at best. Play them badly and we are looking at months not years.”

So, I begin this book with the hope and intention to reach the conclusion before you do.

And it ends… well we don’t really know how it ends. Our hope is to get this book into David’s hands so he can see the result of months of crazy hard work by him, his staff at Rowden, Megan Fitzpatrick and me.

So what’s it about? On the one hand, “The Intelligent Hand” is the story a boy with a stammer who became one of the leading furniture designers in the U.K., working for clients all over the world, including Saudi Arabia and China. It’s a story of extreme failure – bankruptcy – and how you can build a new life using the debris from the broken one.

It’s a practical and iconoclastic guide to getting started in woodwork. David has always had pointed opinions about the tools and methods his students should use to get good results. And he shares – in great detail – his recommendations for tools, sharpening, cutting dovetails and building a proper workbench.

It’s a primer on design. If you have ever wondered how to train yourself to create pieces that break out of the typical or expected (what David calls the “Mark I Eyeball”), this book is an excellent start. David’s advice is both general (how to keep a mental record of your ideas) to specific (smudge the ink in your drawings with spit to create shadows) and it will make you want to take up pen, pencil and watercolors before you design your next piece.

But perhaps most of all, “The Intelligent Hand” is a peek into a woodworking shop that operates at the highest level of craftsmanship – what many can only dream of. To show how the shop functions, David spins a thread that ties all the book’s disparate parts together – he designs a desk and chair for his wife, Carol.

Like many furniture makers, David and Carol’s house is filled with prototypes or factory-made items. All the good stuff goes to clients. For this book, David shares the process for how these special pieces were both developed and built. It’s a remarkable and challenging process – and something you won’t find in any other book.

In the end, this book is an interesting read on many levels. Beginners will see clearly how to get started in the craft and how far one can go. Intermediate woodworkers will devour the sections on design. And the professional will see “The Intelligent Hand” as a guide to how to run a good business – and sometimes how not to (plus some practical workshop hints).

The book is funny, sometimes tragic and very helpful. And it’s filled with beautiful photos and drawings of David’s pieces from his long career.

Like all Lost Art Press books, “The Intelligent Hand” is produced and printed entirely in the United States. It is 304 pages, 8-1/2” x 11”, and printed on #80 matte coated paper. The pages are sewn together for long life. The hard covers are covered in a cotton cloth and then wrapped in a #100 beefy dustjacket. The book is printed in full color. And it is made without any compromises. Like David. And like our barbecue here in Kentucky.

— Christopher Schwarz

Note: This book will be released in October.

“The Intelligent Hand” is a peek into a woodworking life that’s at a level that most of us can barely imagine. The customers are wealthy and eccentric. The designs have to leap off the page. And the craftsmanship has to be utterly, utterly flawless.

How does one get to this point? And how do you stay there?

One answer to these questions is in this book. Yes, the furniture can be technically difficult to make. But a lot of the hard labor involves some unexpected skills. Listening. Seeing. Drawing. And looking into the mirror and practicing the expression: “And that will cost 20,000 pounds.”

As you will see, it’s a personal struggle – like the production of this book. On the day David began work on his manuscript, he received a cancer diagnosis with a grim prognosis. He wasn’t sure what the book was going to be about or if he could finish it. But David attacked the work with the fervor of a younger, healthier man.

So what is it about? On the one hand, “The Intelligent Hand” is the story of a boy with a stammer who became one of the leading furniture designers in the U.K., working for clients all over the world, including Saudi Arabia and China. It’s a story of extreme failure – bankruptcy – and how he built a new life using the debris from the broken one.

It’s a practical and iconoclastic guide to getting started in woodwork. David has always had pointed opinions about the tools and methods his students should use to get good results. And he shares – in great detail – his recommendations for tools, sharpening, cutting dovetails and building a proper workbench.

It’s a primer on design. If you have ever wanted to train yourself to create pieces that break out of the typical or expected (to defy what David calls the “Mark One Eyeball”), this book is an excellent start. David’s advice is both general (how to keep a mental record of your ideas) to specific (smudge the ink in your drawings with spit to create shadows) and it will make you want to take up pen, pencil and watercolors before you design your next piece.

But most of all, “The Intelligent Hand” is a window into David’s workshop in Devon. To show how the shop functions, David spins a thread that ties together all the book’s disparate parts by designing a desk and chair for his wife, Carol.

Like many furniture makers, David and Carol’s house is filled with prototypes or factory-made items. All the good stuff went to clients. For this book, David shares the process for how these two personal projects were developed and built.

In the end, this book is an interesting read on many levels. Beginners will see clearly how to get started in the craft and how far one can go. Intermediate woodworkers will devour the sections on design. And the professional will find advice on how to run a good business – and sometimes how not to (plus some practical workshop hints).

The book is funny, sometimes tragic and helpful. And it’s filled with beautiful photos and drawings of David’s pieces from his long career.

Like all Lost Art Press books, “The Intelligent Hand” is produced and printed entirely in the United States. It is 304 pages, 8-1/2” x 11” and printed on #80 matte coated paper. The pages are sewn together for long life. The hard covers are covered in a cotton cloth and then wrapped in a #100 beefy dustjacket. The book is printed in full color.

All customers who place a pre-publication order will receive a free pdf download of the book (DRM-free).

— Christopher Schwarz