Design. When I began making furniture for more than side money, I had zero aspirations of designing furniture. I copied dead guys, I reasoned, and I used plans.
It wasn’t long before people began bringing photographs of furniture. Easy enough to make the necessary alterations, to reason how to make the pieces. Napkin sketches and a bit of drawing on the sheet goods as I figured it all out. During the actual building, of course. This too was “easy.”
Later I needed to actually produce drawings of the furniture–my sketches did not suffice for neither the upscale clientele nor their interior designers. I didn’t have a background in pad and paper drafting. But I did have a design background using computer drawing programs. Being reasonably well versed in vector graphic drawing programs, the step up from Illustrator to CAD wasn’t overly difficult. But it was time consuming learning it while working to pay bills. There was no Google SketchUp.
I worked mostly in the early 20th century Modern style. Danish Modern. Think Krenov’s influences, his teachers and the basis of Maloof’s great revival of the style. Auction catalogs past and present and Continental museum catalogs were the fooder that drove me to this point. I was busy. I also was beginning to feel stuck in a rut. I wanted to delve into other styles, to explore less rectilinear furniture. As luck would have it, some came my way. Arts & Crafts mostly with some Shaker pieces thrown in for good measure. Initially this was great–but still rectangles adjoining other rectangles with the odd round-topped side table thrown in.
At some point the realization began to surface that I was a lonely woodworker working in styles that no longer were in themselves a strong motivation to enjoy what I was doing. I also began to buy books of other styles and periods of furniture. To read magazines of antiquities, looking for the background images of fantastic looking furniture: It had curves!
What I am beginning to realize now, away from the press of paying bills making stuff, is that there is A&C and Shaker, and there is A&C and Shaker. The subtleties of design escaped me amongst the better pieces of similar nature. Especially with A&C. The early work was much less uniform than later commercially produced stuff. But I didn’t know that then. And I am still learning to view the fascinating differences.
In response to the feelings of isolation concerning design and working in a fairly solitary manner, I inquired to some woodworking schools about attending. No, I didn’t need to learn how to tune a tool. No, I didn’t need to learn the mechanics of building stuff. I needed refreshed, to be among men who understood design subtleties and could communicate this to me. I needed to better train my design-aesthetic eye. I confused several school owners concerning my quest. So I muddled along until the shop closed, settling for reading books and having the odd conversation. Along the way, I have stopped making much, but not for want.
Last year at Woodworking In America was the first real time out in public, so to speak. Being able to spend time with people I respect who know far more than I concerning styles I am less accustom to was wonderful. When I found out this year that there were to be two WIAs, I wondered, why?
Then I learned there was to be a different emphasis between them. The first WIA date being on design and construction issues. I figured it would fill up fast and I thought long and hard about going as an attendee. I still might make it if I can sell off enough blood between now and the registration close (assuming there are still openings then).
Why? Because I believe to be a better woodworker, one has to begin looking at design in a different way. This is difficult in a vacuum. It takes, I believe, interacting with others in an immediate and close working relationship. Only there isn’t a school I am aware of like this. But there is the Woodworking in America conference in St. Charles, Illinois at the end of August.
I am going to save my pennies (and sell a little blood) to be able to afford the time and money to go. It isn’t going to be easy. But I see as much–or more–value in this first WIA as the second one at Valley Forge in October.
All the best to you–I hope I can make it to St. Charles and meet you there. We’ll both be the better woodworkers for going to a conference that can take us from conception to construction.
Mike