Lost Art Press

After more than 10 years of teaching woodworking classes, I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff, from a guy who slammed his tools to the floor when he couldn’t cut a tenon to a woman who was so rich and odd that she tried to buy all my tools off my bench. Oh, and a guy who almost died from a heart attack.

More typical, of course, is to have a class where one student does everything he can to ruin the experience for everyone.

As I get set to take my first woodworking class in more than five years at David Savage’s shop, I thought you might want to hear about how I plan to get the most out of my week on the other side of the bench.

1. Take notes. Draw pictures. Review.
I couldn’t have made it through college without taking notes, and woodworking classes are no different. When I take a class, I dedicate an entire notebook to the enterprise and write down everything. I draw pictures of all the setups with dimensions. And I write down anything clever or profound that the instructor says.

Even more important, I review my notes before the next day’s class. The notes show me how I got to that particular point and where I am going.

Taking notes helps you and the entire class. When a student asks me four times how to do an operation, I fall behind in teaching other students.

2. Socialize – to a Point
I’ve seen woodworking classes where people have made new best friends and even forged new business plans. And that’s the highest reward of a class.

I’ve also seen classes fall into chaos when two chatterboxes put the brakes on the entire classroom by getting distracted by their new relationship.

Some classes have times when you have to wait on a tool to do a certain operation. Socialize then, at mealtimes and after class. You are paying about $20/hour (plus expenses) for the instruction. Make the most of it.

3. Open Your Own School
Every class has at least one “special” student – someone lacking social skills, personal hygiene or self-control. The most difficult classes have three or four of the specials – and they feed off one another.

If you have to comment on or challenge many operations of the instructor, maybe you aren’t cut out for a class. Asking questions is necessary – but if you go off the reservation and off-topic, your fellow students will sharpen their knives. Yes, I have experienced open revolt against a few students.

If you have left-field questions, save them for after class or offer to take the instructor out for a drink.

4. Don’t Make the Class Something it Isn’t
Many students approach me before a class and say something like: “Hey, I know we are building a tool chest, but I’d like to build a chest of drawers instead. Can you help me along?”

The instructor should say, “Nope.” But really it’s not a question that should even be asked. Most classes are strapped for time. Diverting the class isn’t fair to the rest of the students.

5. Don’t Ask the Instructor to Do the Work
Some students are there only for the trophy – the finished project. And so they are eager to let the instructor or assistants do their work for them. True, there are times the instructor has to do an operation for all the students to take a shortcut (such as milling stock). But if you don’t cut the wood, your fingers aren’t learning squat.

I would rather try and fail than watch and succeed.

6. On Borrowing & Loaning Tools
I’m always happy to let students and fellow instructors try my tools. After all, it’s a great way to test different brands or tools you are curious about.

Even so, always ask before you borrow. And always return the tool immediately after a few minutes of work.

Some students think that borrowing my block plane grants them carte blanche all week – with a sharpening service, too.

7. How to Become the Instructor’s Friend
Some students try to befriend the instructor – that’s cool, even instructors need friends. But there’s a right way to do it and a wrong way to do it. The wrong way can throw a class off the rails.

Wrong way: Chat up the instructor at every moment, sucking up all the time between demonstrations and preventing the instructor from checking the work of all of the students.

Right way: Step in to help without being asked. If a fellow student is falling behind, offer to help them by sharpening a plane or a chisel. Or if the fellow student seems confused, explain the operation to help them along. Offer to help move heavy materials for the class. And almost finally….

8. Buy Doughnuts
Sugar, lard and cream filling improve everyone’s woodworking. Believe it.

Finally, shower every morning, use deodorant and brush your teeth. Or take a class in slopping barns.

— Christopher Schwarz

Antique furniture is a portal to the past and these surviving artifacts are the keys to the fading artisanal knowledge of our furniture making forefathers. By being intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of the work of their hands, it’s almost as if we become their apprentices. We see the artisans in their work. As John Watson has put it, “our cultural ancestors… are manifest in the artifacts they left behind. The work of their hands is not only material inheritance, but an indicator of our identity as their creative spirit reverberates in ourselves.”

I can’t imagine trying to learn to recreate historic furniture without spending a lot of time working on the originals. My training was in conservation and all my furniture making knowledge grew out of time in the conservation studio. This is also true of the best makers today. Phil Lowe, Al Breed, Patrick Edwards, etc… They’ve all spent a lot of time restoring antiques. It isn’t until you diagnose a problem, take the thing apart, and repair it that you get a real sense of the work of the preindustrial artisan.

This past spring, Thomas Lie-Nielsen and I were talking shop and during the course of conversation he asked if I’d be willing to teach a class on furniture restoration at his place. As we discussed the details, it became apparent that what we wanted to do was empower students to understand the appropriate treatments for an object that has survived a couple hundred years. I frequently get even accomplished woodworkers asking me about the “right” thing to do for an antique they were entrusted to repair. They intuitively understand the message we hear on “Antiques Roadshow:” There are appropriate ways to do restoration and there are inappropriate ways to do restoration. This is what we have designed the class to do.

My conversation with Tom confirmed my experience blogging at The Workbench Diary. The past five years there I’ve tried to show the lesser-seen details of the objects I work on, the techniques used to preserve the objects for the next generations, and the techniques used to make the originals. Through my interactions with readers I found that there is a real desire to learn to restore antiques with integrity. There is a lot you can learn from reading but conservation treatment operates more on the Goldilock’s principal: Not too little, not too much, but juuust right. This is hard to get from books.

“What’s the right thing to do for this piece?” “What is the right way to restore it without devaluing it?” If you’ve asked these questions I think this class may be up your alley.

Some folks have the (partially true) impression that conservators are a closed community. They don’t want to open and up and share their magical incantations. They keep their specialized training close to their chest by fogging inquirers with ivory tower jargon. Frankly, that’s a bunch of rubbish. This class is my attempt at democratizing the conservation. Come to Lie-Nielsen this September and let me introduce you to a responsible and no-nonsense approach to maintaining the integrity of your furniture for future generations to enjoy.

Besides, what’s better than restoring antique furniture at Lie-Nielsen on the coast of Maine in fall?

Details for the workshop are here.

— Joshua Klein, Mortise & Tenon Magazine