August 11, 2010
I’ve been away with Barbie enjoying the rugged coastline of Acadia National Park in the state of Maine. We love to grab a sandwich and park ourselves on a rocky outcropping as high tide rolls in. Amazing how that immersion in sound, smells, and light seems to quickly scrub out all the cobwebs inside the scull. It chases out all the competing data flying around in my head and allows me to pause and watch a black guillemot dive for small fish in the frothy surf. It never fails to reignite the creative spark.
I received a note from furniture builder Kate Taylor asking for some help on a hall table she built. She voices a concern that I hear on a regular basis from builders. Somehow she’s not sure that the legs work in the overall design. I’m often asked
“How do I proportion legs to the overall piece?”
Or more often, “I know this just isn’t working for me but I’m not sure where to go with it.”
Comments below are from Kate. I’m certain she’d be grateful for some thoughtful input.
George R. Walker
I have a table that I’m wondering about and thought I’d see if you would be interested in critiquing it. My main question is about the legs. I wanted the table to have more of a flowing feel to go with the live edge. It’s made to go against a wall in an entry way, so needs to be narrow. I’m not sure if the legs work or not. Any comments are welcome.
Thanks, Kate
Kate Taylor Creative Woodworking
www.wooden-box-maker.com
July 12, 2010
A few months ago I had the good fortune to spend a few days in Mid-coast Maine and dropped in for a look at the Messler Gallery at The Center for Furniture Craftsmanship. I had a wonderful time looking at a collection of student work. You can follow this link for more details on the individual makers. 
I was especially interested in the interpretations of small low tables or what we often call a coffee table. It was refreshing to see some well executed ideas brought to fruition. For the most part they take a bit more risk than I would, I’m always wondering if it would hold up with screaming grandkids and large excited Labrador retrievers careening around the house. That’s my own bias. I’m fully aware that this is one furniture form open to a huge range of expression.
Frequently when I attend woodworking shows I get the pleasure of talking with woodworkers about their projects. Inevitably out comes an IPod or digital camera to show me progress and get my opinion. Note: you know you’re an avid woodworker when you carry pictures of your furniture projects around with you. I’m never sure what sort of input people want or can take but I normally ask them the same questions I ask myself. What was the original thought or idea that inspired the piece? Was the goal to harmonize with other elements in the room or is this a focal point? Those questions lead to others and often the conversation becomes a great learning experience and time of discovery for both of us.
One furniture project that brings out the most questions is the dreaded coffee table. My own theory is that it’s the one form of furniture that knows no bounds. When I think of a coffee table for some reason my mind always goes back to Chris Farley in “Tommy Boy” where he’s delighted to get a “D” on his college exam and celebrates by passing out onto a rickety coffee table creating a mini earthquake.
Coffee tables can be so many things. For that reason I think they are commonly picked as a student project in furniture schools. They can easily become an artistic expression and a focal point to a room. I have a few thoughts on designing them and I was wondering about your collective thoughts also. Feel free to contribute.
- Height is about the only functional dimension that appears critical. It’s meant to talk over, view over, prop your feet on, hold trays of beer, food, and er… coffee. It should not be higher than chair seat height.
- The room setting should play a role in deciding the shape and size of the top. I seldom use mock ups, but in this case I’d make an exception. Unless you are after an aircraft carrier deck look, it’s probably a good idea to break out the cardboard and try out some top mock ups. It’s important not just visually, but consider traffic flow also.
- Some may disagree but I like a coffee table that’s Tommy proof. In other words, someone should be able to sit on the corner of it and not have the table turn into a catapult that launches beverages into the fireplace.
- Unless you are going to use a glass top, remember that the undercarriage is primarily out of view. Floating tops or fancy joinery will not be seen except by roaming toddlers.
Maybe it's time to do something with that figured walnut slab that's been lurking in the woodpile?
- This is a great opportunity to use that extraordinary monolith of wood you’ve been saving. A coffee table is all about the top. Don’t be bashful about using something that’s eye catching.
I have more to say about designing a coffee table but I’m curious to hear your thoughts?
George R. Walker
June 29, 2010
When my son was just entering college we took a road trip up to Michigan just to hang out and see some new country. One of the highlights was a chance visit to Sleeping Bear Dunes on western shoreline. I wasn’t prepared for the vista. Towering vertical sand dunes that plunged far down to a distant beach. We stood on a board walk with signs warning not to make the foolish attempt to descend the steep sandy bank. That became even more apparent when a speedboat shattered the silence far below. The boat looked like a small water bug and gave the eye a true sense of how massive the dunes really are. It was both breath taking and somehow a bit unnerving. Without the boat to give some contrast it was difficult for the mind to process this vast spectacle.
I think a lot about how contrast is employed in design and how we respond to it. Traditional design tends to avoid a grid and instead favors using contrast or a hierarchy.
You can divide a simple shape equally, but using major and minor elements creates a more interesting composition.
It seems at first blush to be counterintuitive. We are creatures that like order and lining up identical sized objects seems to make sense, at least on the surface. I’m reminded of something I read by C.S. Lewis where he pointed out that reality is often very different than what we might imagine at first blush. He used the solar system as an example. Our mind may imagine a neat orderly arrangement of planets circling the sun, but the reality is a hodge podge of different sized globes traveling in elliptical orbits. Orderly yes, but not fitting into a neat grid by any means.
For centuries designers have recognized that using major and minor elements is a way to help our eye take in a design. They employed this concept of major and minor in the larger elements of a form down to composing the smaller elements in a carving or molding.
Can you see how this molding profile uses major and minor?
Frequently on period work the contrast is created using simple whole number ratios like 3:4 or 2:3. Take the time when looking at furniture you enjoy to see how the design makes use of major and minor elements. When you look at a really great carving, notice how the elements may be broken up into major and minor. Even inlay looks more pleasing when the different bands of color contrast in width. Any one have thoughts on why we find this major and minor appealing?
George R. Walker
June 20, 2010
Tapered Wedge is a structural element left in plain sight
It never fails to amaze me that many of the debates we thrash about with furniture design have been the subject of much thought for centuries, even millennia. Ornament in its many forms seems to draw fire and always seems to go through a process where we explore it, master it, then overdo it, and finally tire of the excess and come to the conclusion to wipe the slate clean and banish it. Many styles we revere today were actually a reaction to an older fashion that morphed into something a far cry from its origins. The sleek clean geometry of federal furniture was a reaction to Chippendale Rococo and it’s over the top carving. Somewhat related to ornament is structure and the views on how it should be handled in a design.
I’m not speaking about structure in the engineering sense where we make decisions about how to size a tenon, but whether we choose to make the joinery a visible part of the design composition.
Designers in antiquity often took liberties in including structural elements in a building even when those elements did nothing more than stylize an ancient form. The familiar dental molding on a classical building is actually a stylized representation (often in stone) of the more ancient timber roof structure that inspired it. Often columns are sunk into a wall or depicted as flat pilasters but have no load bearing function. The building load is carried by walls of brick but the columns give the form a sense of structure. Furniture design, taking its cue from architecture has run the gamut on the treatment of structure. At times structure is left in plain view giving the idea of good honest workmanship. Other times just the opposite with elaborate measures taken to hide any hint of structure. Veneer was often plastered over all joints (sometimes with disastrous results) and sometimes extreme measures like employing full blind dovetails to hide all traces of joinery. On many modern designs, structural elements or details that hint at structure can often be highlighted and made part of the overall scheme. Drawbore pins fashioned in ebony and carved with facets to contrast slightly with the surrounding wood. In this way these structural elements take on a more decorative ornamental role. My thoughts on structure are still forming but here is what guides me in general. All the different approaches have their place. Joinery can be hidden, in plain sight, or emphasized, there is no right or wrong. Whatever route is chosen, carry it through the entire design. If you openly display joinery in one place look for opportunities to mirror it in others. If you choose to hide, then carry that theme throughout. Another aspect is scale. The joinery should be scaled in proportion to the overall piece. My own rule of thought is to scale it close to what it requires to actually perform its function and avoid the temptation to put it on steroids. I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts about how you approach structure or displaying joinery from an esthetic view.
George R. Walker
June 7, 2010
If you haven’t been able to break free to attend one of the Lie-Nielsen hand tool events, here’s what you’re missing out on. I spent the weekend in Cincinnati at the tool event at the Popular Woodworking headquarters. Notice the piles of chips and shavings on their nice carpeting. It’s pretty much like that at every bench. Some is from expert demonstrators and quite a bit is from attendees who were encouraged to test drive the tool of their choice. I did a little of both myself. I went down with a group of SAPFM (Society of American Furniture Makers) who demonstrated a variety of traditional techniques. I had a few antique joinery planes, a tongue and groove set and a moving fillister that I brought along. The same comment came out of the mouths of those who tried out the fillister, “Where can I get one of these?”
I traded places and tried out Andrew Lunn’s Eccentric Toolworks saws at his workbench. This went against my better judgment as now I have a bad case of rip saw lust. As always, I kept an ear open as Deneb from Lie-Nielsen poured out information on hand planing technique. Even though I’ve been using planes for nearly thirty years I came away with several new tricks to improve my work.
Another reason I love these events is to talk design. Toolmakers themselves, I find eager to talk about design and I get the sense that it’s one of the most enjoyable parts of what they do. With interest I listened to John Economaki from Bridge City Tool Works talk about his design process and how he uses some cutting edge technology to go from print to prototype. He’s the first person to share something about electronic drawings that really piqued my interest. He explained that the ability to stretch and manipulate curves on a sketchup type medium allowed him to explore ideas in a way impossible with paper and pencil. That conversation spawned others about how to visualize ideas in a drawing. All, even John admitted that at some point in the process you have to hold the part in your hand to see how it feels, or in the case of a furniture part, hold a leg and look at it from several vantage points to see if you have nailed it. Even an excellent photo or film sequence no matter how crisp, will not reveal the same essense that our eye perceives in person. Make it a point to get to one of these shows if you haven’t already. It feels pretty good to make piles of chips on someone else’s carpet.
George Walker
June 2, 2010
I was reading a great book recently on Tall Case clocks, “Painted Dial Clocks” by Brian Loomis. A great resource for understanding tall case clock styles from 1770 to 1870. One bit of trivia caught my attention, a decorated dial circa 1790 that included a painted housefly resting between the Roman numerals. In an age before modern plumbing, screen windows and bug zappers, why would they intentionally add a fly to the painted dial? Didn’t they have enough already? Loomis speculated that it may have been a clever way to cover up a small defect in and otherwise perfect Japanned surface. Makes sense. After all, Murphy’s Law says that the closer you are to completing a project, the more likely you are to flub it. I suppose if I was charged with painting a clock dial, I might need to lay in a snapping turtle to cover up an errant brush stroke. This idea of adding a fly somehow brings my mind back to the idea of using ornament in a design.
I’ve been reading about ornament a great deal in preparation for an upcoming article in Popular Woodworking Magazine. Ornament is an element that frequently is used to emphasize the underlying form. Traditionally ornament falls into several categories regardless whether it’s executed in carving, marquetry, or painting. It may be based on animal life such as carved seashells. The egg and dart carving used on an Ovolo is also an example of ornament based around animal life (Other than the one clock dial, I’ve not come across house flies used as ornament.) It also frequently finds expression in plant life such as the frequent use of carved leaves or inlaid vines. Another frequent expression of ornament is geometric.
Geometric border on drawer front by Al Breed, Photo by Lie-Nielsen Toolworks
Marquetry is often employed to create borders with simple geometric patterns. In most cases the ornament emphasizes the form either by creating a visual border or by highlighting an existing element that defines the form. Thus vines and carved leaves not only provide a delightful surprise when viewed close, but help highlight the form from across the room. Since they often are used as borders they punctuate a form and help define a clear beginning or ending. Thus from a proportional standpoint they may occupy an envelope that’s one fifth or sixth the overall height on a wide element like a drawer front, or a fifth of the width on a tall element like a door. That’s a decent rule of thumb when you are working through your initial rough sketches. Obviously, quite bit of discretion is called for to avoid the overuse of ornament. A good friend of mine lavished a small table with inlaid ornament, which he affectionately refers to as a wedding cake. Learning a new skill like marquetry or carving brings with it the temptation to pour it on. As always, take a closer view of masterful work and note those vines or inlaid ribbons that quietly emphasize a form. Size up how they proportioned them in relation to the element they highlight.
George R. Walker
May 28, 2010
I hear the following comments on a regular basis. They usually come out on the second day of a workshop or seminar where I’m teaching a group of woodworkers. It goes like this,
“Last night after dinner I pulled my car off the road and sat for twenty minutes looking at the old _________ (courthouse, post office, library, etc, etc). It was like I really saw it for the first time!”
Or I hear, “Up until now I knew what I liked and didn’t like but couldn’t put my finger on it, now the cloud is lifting and I’m beginning to see things in a new way.”
When I hear those words expressed my immediate thought is, welcome to a new phase in your woodworking apprenticeship. You’ve begun opening up your eyes and training your design sense. We don’t have any printed curriculums which explain how the masters handed down knowledge to apprentices. No doubt there were many months providing grunt labor doing menial tasks. Cutting thousands of dovetails till the skill became ingrained or the ability to prepare rough stock at blistering speed. At some point the apprentice was introduced to the world of design. Traditionally, furniture building was one of the smaller planets revolving around the center which was architecture. It’s not hard to imagine a promising apprentice making sketches of interesting buildings and architectural features when the opportunity presented itself.
The ability to design is what sets master apart from journeyman. It’s exciting to cut that first really tight dovetail or turn a crisp spindle on the lathe. I hope that satisfaction never goes away. Yet, training the eye and learning to design opens up a whole new ocean in your woodworking world. It’s hard to put into words. It’s some powerful new kind of air to breath when your eye, mind, and hands come together and the ideas start to blossom.
I’ll be out on the west coast this August for a weeklong workshop on furniture design at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking. It will be one of those weeks where you have the opportunity to enter a new phase in your woodworking apprenticeship. We’ll devote a week focused on training the eye. No doubt you’ll be late for class one morning because you lost track of time absorbed in thought while gawking at a building for the first time.
It happens.
For information about the class you can click here.
George R. Walker
May 24, 2010
There’s been a ton of debate about ornament and whether or not it belongs on a good design. Granted there have been periods when builders almost took leave of their senses and indulged in colossal expressions of bling. In the late 19th century, newly rich Americans clamored for furniture like they saw on their “grand tours” of Europe. One result was a slew of heavily carved German Black forest hunting lodge inpired pieces. Note the walnut dog head bursting through the panel on this cabinet door. Somehow I can imagine this resulting in a tramatized grandchild and weeks spent sleeping on the couch until she stopped waking up with screaming nightmares. Actually this is mild compared to some of the heavily carved hunting scenes complete with stacks of killed game above the cabinet. Sort of a furniture version of driving home with a dead deer strapped across the hood of your car. I’m not trying to make a judgement about hunting, though I will venture to say that just because we can carve something doesn’t mean we should. I’m using this bombastic example to touch on how we approach ornament and decoration on a form. At the other end of the spectrum it’s easy to find furniture designed completely devoid of ornament, even shunning wood grain. Before I go where angels fear to tread, I’d like to make a few points about ornament. First it might help to make a distinction between ornament and decoration. From a traditional viewpoint, they are distinctly different and give some insight in how ornament is best approached.
Decoration can be a carved sculpture or a painting. In architecture it often shows up as a large mural or a statue. The key is that it frequently is a focal point. Often the building or grounds are designed to help us focus on some outstanding expression of art.
Acanthus leaf carving by Dan Reahard
Ornament can be carving, inlay, marquetry, painting, or gilding. It differs from decoration in that it is intended not as a focal point but instead to emphasize the underlying form. Note how this acanthus leaf carving emphasizes the graceful cabriole leg. Stringing and inlay can be used to great effect emphasizing a tapered table leg. Ornament is also very effective at emphasizing smaller sub elements. Think how a thin band of stringing running around the perimeter of drawer front 
emphasizes the panel.
The traditional view on both ornament and decoration is they are elements that are not merely “added on” to an existing form. Rather, they complete a design and bring it to a fullness and richness it could not achieve apart from it. With this in mind I suggest you take a new look at ornament. Take a closer look at masterful work and note how the ornament emphasized the form.
George R. Walker
May 21, 2010
The Thinker, by Auguste Rodin 1880 (Cleveland Museum of Art)
How about a little twist on a design critique? It’s been a pleasure for me and I hope for you the last few weeks sharing thoughts and comments on previous design critiques. I thought it might be fun to occasionally toss up some images from the work of a past master and generate some discussion.
Obviously this is a bit different than commenting on your peers. It might be a good exercise to look closely at a masterwork and tell us what you see. What do you think the designer was thinking? Is there something new you failed to notice before? Is there something you might want to file away and in your design library? With that in mind, here’s the first masterwork I’d like to present for your comments, a cabinet by Greene and Greene.
Try to disregard the moron reflected in the window, just trying to get a shot of the facade. Cabinet measures 82" H X 54" W X 24" D.
A little background and my initial comment. This impressive cabinet is currently on display in the Cleveland Museum of Art and is described as a secretary designed by Charles Sumner Greene and built by Peter Hall in 1911. The primary wood is mahogany which in itself was a bit surprising to me. One thing that struck me as exceedingly well executed is the subtle use of ornament to emphasize the form. Note the small patches of inlay at each corner of the upper and lower case. It re-enforced the idea to me that ornament (carving, inlay, marquetry, gilding) is at its best when it plays a supporting role and highlights the underlying form. Sorry about the photo quality, museum setting photos can be difficult.
I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this impressive work.
George R. Walker
