Tim Lawson, the executive director of the Port Townsend School of Woodworking, is stepping down from his post and so the school is on the hunt for a replacement. I’ve taught a couple times at this school in Washington State, and it is one of the most gorgeous corners of the world I’ve ever visited. You can read more about my experiences there here.
It’s a special place, and it deserves a great leader. If you’re interested, here’s the official job announcement:
The Port Townsend School of Woodworking–a 501 (C3) non-profit–is actively searching for an executive director to join our team. Having become nationally recognized for our excellence in preserving and passing on traditional woodworking skills through entry- to master-level classes, we are now looking for an individual to help guide us through the next exciting phase of our development. The demand for deep craft knowledge is growing, and our facilities, staff and programs need to expand dramatically to meet the challenge. Are you (or can you help us find) this person? If so, please go online to our official Job Announcement to learn more.
While reading Fred Roe’s “Ancient Coffers and Cupboards” I came across a drawing of a late Gothic almery owned by Morgan Williams (owner of St. Donat’s Castle until 1909). What caught my eye was the “mad owl” tracery on the door.
“Mad Owl” from Aumbry de Christopher.
The almery was very similar to the one Chris Schwarz built in 2014 and included in the Boarded Furniture section of “The Anarchist’s Design Book.” Was this almery the “mother ship”?
I sent Roe’s sketch off to Chris and he agreed it was a little weird. Putting aside the chance that a cupboard could be rebuilt, doors reversed or lost, there are differences in the tracery on the side panels. Roe’s almery was not the “mother ship” – we were looking at two different aumbries. In Fred Roe’s second book “Old Oak Furniture” we have our answer:
Chris sent me the auction photo of the original piece on which he based his aumbry and I looked for more almeries/aumbries that might be by the same Sussex maker.
If these four pieces are indeed by the same maker one of his signatures seems to be a “mad owl” and a four-point star tracery on the door.
Chris has said aumbries are “dang fun” to build. Finding a few more pieces from the “mad owl” Sussex maker has also been “dang fun.”
Fred Roe was an accomplished artist who later became an expert and collector of oak furniture. Three of his books are available online to add to your digital library. Although most of the oak pieces are British there are some Continental examples. Even if you are not a fan of oak furniture there are historical anecdotes, and as one would expect, plenty of carvings. One great value of these old books is finding inspiration for your next project be it in wood, stone, textiles or that waiting-to-be-filled space between your tattoos.
Book One: “Ancient Coffers and Cupboards” was published in 1902, includes drawings by Fred Roe and begins with The Dark Ages. I have always been fascinated with linen fold panels and was happy to find ‘The Linen Panel’ chapter (sample platter below). Roe’s drawings are well done and help you see carving details that get lost in old halftone photographs. You can find the first book here.
Book Two: “Old Oak Furniture” was published in 1907 and all the images are drawings by Fred Roe.
In the chapter on ‘Old Furniture with Hiding-Places’ there is a tale involving a bed, a treasure and Richard III on his way to Bosworth. The chapter also gives you several ideas on where to search for your own hidden treasure. You can find the second book here.
Book Three: “A History of Oak Furniture” was published in 1920 and was part of a series by The Connoisseur Magazine.
Joint stool with 15th c. French manuscript reference.
This book is comprised of short chapters followed by a large selection of photographs. There is some overlap with his previous books, but put together the three books provide a small library of aumbries, benches, boxes, chairs, coffers, cupboards, dressers, stools, tables and all sorts of decorative details. You can find the third book here.
Fred Roe was able to document furniture and decorative elements found in public establishments and on private estates. Some of the old taverns and houses were later demolished, private estates were sold and their treasures auctioned. In the first quarter of the 20th century he captured a collection of oak furniture, and a century later we can still learn from and enjoy his time capsule.
Most woodworking books are as dry as a popcorn fart discharged in the high desert plain. In the effort to communicate doctrinaire woodworking information, many authors (me included, at times) forget one simple fact: The writing has to be dang compelling or no one will read it.
That’s why many woodworking writers (me included) live in an echo chamber. We write for the people who are already indoctrinated into the sisterhood of sap. Our shorthand is impenetrable for the people on the outside of the cambium layer. We are happy to tell you “how” to do any operation imaginable. But we fail to tell you “why” you would ever want to.
“I can teach a man to sail but I can never teach him why.”
— Timothy E. Thatcher, published in “The American Scholar”
Enter Nick Offerman. For years I’ve watched him slip woodworking scenes into the “Parks & Recreation” series – a canoe here, a Christian Becksvoort there. I watched his “American Ham” special on HBO, where Offerman pledged his love for the grain. And whenever he appeared on late-night television, Offerman was smelling wood (sorry) or talking about working his wood (also sorry).
A lot of us wondered: Is Offerman one of us? Is he hard core?
This fall, Offerman’s latest book “Good Clean Fun” (Dutton) hit the shelves and we have our answer. This book is important – much in the way that James Krenov’s “A Cabinetmaker’s Notebook” is important. It is a huge piece of stink bait globbed onto the hook of hard-core woodworking.
“Good Clean Fun” is, like Offerman’s other books, hilarious. And this time he is selling the act of woodworking to the unconverted. He makes woodworking seem like a voyage of self-discovery that you make with a posse of like-minded misfits – all members of the Offerman Woodshop in California (with a branch office in the Middle West).
Yes, you learn to set up a shop, choose your tools and make some projects. But you are also treated to some of the funniest step-by-step instruction I’ve ever read. During a chapter written by his brother on making a cribbage board, Nick interjects himself into the instruction:
NICK: Another great spot for the card scraper!
MATT (Nick’s brother): I’m told an angel loses its wings every time you use a hand tool.
These wisecracks inhabit every page of this 344-page book, waiting for you to discover them. Whether it’s a section on how to drive a wedge into a nasty species (“Suck on that eucalyptus”), or an aside on meeting Mira Nakashima and learning of her love of flat-sheen finishes (“Ha ha. I knew glossy finishes were for the birds! Sorry, I got excited. Of course glossy finishes have their place. In 1987. I kid.”) The book is a total and complete hoot.
There’s a section on fashion. Recipes for workshop food. Profiles of interesting woodworkers – Nakashima, Becksvoort, Jimmy DiResta and chairmaker Peter Galbert. There’s a comic book section on harvesting your own lumber. Plus measured drawings of birdhouses.
I know that not everyone gets Offerman’s sense of humor, like not all of us get Roy Underhill or Norm Abram (yes, he’s funny). But I can tell you this: If you buy this book and give it to someone who seems the woodworking type, you can bet they will read it. It’s hard not to – make a canoe paddle? Yes, please. Make a Slingshot Dining Chair with Michele Diener? Wow. Jokes about coiling a band saw blade? Indeed.
This book might not be for you – if you are reading this blog then you probably bleed sawdust when pricked. But this book is something you don’t have – the latest and greatest tool for recruiting new woodworkers, growing the craft and generally extending a kindly hand to young people, women, minorities and the disaffected.
I haven’t read a book in the last 25 years that has as much potential to grow the craft. Buy one copy for yourself and a second one to wrap up and slip to a niece or nephew at Christmas.
All the good furniture designers I know are deeply informed by the past, and they either fold it into their work or rebel against it.
I always try to come clean about my design influences for several reasons. First, it’s only fair to acknowledge the people who blazed the trail before you were born. And second, I hope to inspire other makers to plumb the past to inform their contemporary work.
Today I applied the final coat of paint to a pair of Welsh stick chairs for a customer in Colorado. No detail of these chairs has been copied. I designed these from scratch. Yet, I’d be a liar if I didn’t acknowledge all the places where these chairs came from.
First there’s John Brown. His writing introduced me to this form, and his book “Welsh Stick Chairs” had this drawing in it, which has haunted me for about 20 years.
It’s a stick chair with a back that has four spindles and a bent arm bow. And the legs have always mystified me. While they have no stretchers, there are holes drawn on the legs that suggest the chair might have had stretchers at one time.
Then came Don Weber. I’ve taken his chairmaking class twice now. The first time was more than 13 years ago, and a second time was this fall in conjunction with his new video: “Build a Welsh Stick Chair.” Weber is an excellent instructor and makes the construction process easy. I highly recommend this video if you would like to build a chair in this vein.
And there are many other chairs that I encountered on the way. Some had stretchers. Some didn’t. Some had simple turnings. Others had bulbous English-style stretchers. I’ve tried to boil down all the details so they are informed by the past but are not tied to a particular era.
I know, it seems a messy way to design furniture: Gather all the designs you like and put them in a giant food processor. You hope for transcendent guacamole and fear fluffy mackerel pudding.
