In traditional Japanese architecture, shoji are doors, windows or room dividers that are made of an outer frame that holds a lattice to which paper, traditionally washi paper, is fixed. Shoji doors slide rather than open on hinges which is a great way to save space; the area behind the door does not need to be kept clear. There are modern shoji papers available that incorporate plastic fibers which makes the paper virtually tear proof and quite puncture resistant.

Most shoji are one sided, meaning that there is a single lattice, so on the reverse side you will see the paper only. It doesn’t look nearly as pleasing. Joe had made a few shoji before we started working together, they’re kind of his ‘thing’- and he figured a way to make them double sided by sandwiching the paper between two mirror images of the lattices. It’s almost twice the work but the result is well worth it when you are going to see the back side of the door. David provided us with some very nice old growth edge sawn fir for the door frames and yellow cedar for the lattice.

Joe test fits the door frames

The door frames are mortise and tenoned, with the top and bottom being left unglued so that the paper can be changed in the future if need be. We machined the unglued joints carefully to be very tight, and secured them with some screws from the top and bottom for extra insurance.

shoji door- outer frame joinery

Shoji are a lot of work. There are a zillion pieces in the lattice (well, a whole bunch) and if your machining is inaccurate at all… you are in for a world of hurt later on so extreme attention to detail is necessary at this stage. It is quite the task just to make the lattice pieces, and then it’s even more to cut all the joinery in them, in the right places.

shoji lattice parts

Something that Joe does is to vary the thickness of all the different parts. This way, wherever two members intersect there is a small ‘reveal’- a step. This lends visual interest, and the panel looks more sophisticated. It’s something you might not notice, but it makes the doors.

shoji lattice panel

Once the door frames and lattice are assembled, any glue is cleaned up and the doors are oiled. We use tung oil on the lattice which really brings out the yellow that yellow cedar is known for, and osmo on the outer frames for a bit more protection. Then for the fun part: attaching the paper. We use wallpaper paste for gluing the paper. It is the best thing we know of for the job; it is colorless so any that gets on the paper (and trust me, it does) disappears when it dries, it is water soluble and sand-able so future re-papering will be possible without much hassle removing the old paper. We apply the paste to the lattice and then lay the pre-cut paper on them. A heat gun is used to dry the paste a little quicker. One of the really cool things about shoji paper is that it doesn’t matter if it is not perfectly tight when you first put it on, just mist it with water from a spray bottle, hit it with the heat gun and it tightens right up- so much so that if you tap it with your finger it sounds like a drum.

installing the shoji paper

All that’s left is to slide the finished panels in the frames and attach the top and bottom rail. Done, except for the final installing.

We have not seen them in the evening, but David says that with the lights on in the office and all the doors closed, the whole wall glows like a big lamp. Cool! Thanks David.

Gail is just such a client. In describing her project she was very clear on two points; she wanted lots and lots of storage, and visual interest derived from texture. We were to design a grouping of cabinets for the living room/dining room that would hold books, small art objects, and some glassware and china. The main material was to be western maple, Gail liked the idea of using a readily available local wood.

The concept that we put forward was to make simple, solid maple cabinets with sliding doors. The doors were quite large, and divided asymmetrically. Every door was unique, but related to each other by using the same sizes of divisions arranged in different ways. We used the golden rectangle as a tool to arrive at pleasing proportions. The golden rectangle is derived from the golden section; the ratio of the two different side lengths in the rectangle is a factor of 1.618. In the last few years we’ve been focused on using asymmetry as a dominant theme our furniture. It seemed a natural fit in this project.

At our meeting to pitch our design, we dragged along a bunch of samples of what we wanted to use as panels in the doors. This was the crux of the design- to use interesting and varied materials in the doors that would relate to and compliment each other. Now, some people would look at you like you were a bit crazy if you showed up with a large sheet of rusty sheet metal and said ‘I want to put this is your nice living room cabinets, but it will be smaller and less dirty than this’. Luckily for us, Gail got it! We also brought along split red cedar (shakes, like for a roof), and samples of some unusual wood. We got the go ahead, and decided to completely finish the cabinets and door frames and then play with different materials to ‘compose’ the doors, with Gail’s help.

We constructed the cabinets by dovetailing them with a router jig. A couple of the cabinets were quite long, 106″ or so. I woke up on the morning I was going to start the joinery realizing that they were far, far too long to fit in the jig on the workbench. We had to come up with some way… we dragged the jig into the attic and set it up there, so the cabinet parts could hang through the attic hatch. Joe would feed them up to me and I got them clamped in and away we went.

Sandra in the attic!

cabinet joinery

a partly finished cabinet

The cabinets sat on short ‘feet’ that we made out of some yew wood that we had. Yew has an unusual color and is a great compliment to the maple. They looked so pretty after oiling them.

We made four cabinets in total, all of them different. The two larger ones are on either side of the living room, and we thought that adding some lights in the open portion of the cabinets would be a nice touch and add some accent lighting to the room. LED technology has come a long way in the past few years and we were able to purchase LED puck lights that have a nice warm colour, as opposed to that nasty blue that they all used to be. The lights operate via a touch sensor /three position dimmer. Once we installed them and secured all the wires, transformer, and other bits to the bottom of the cabinet it looked like there was a bomb strapped to it! They functioned perfectly.

About a year and a half ago I was at home sick with the flu and Joe brought me home some books from the library, including Lark Books 500 baskets from their 500 series. I was smitten; these were not just functional baskets. They were sculpture, they were art. I was drawn to the infinite varieties of form and texture, and wondered if I might be able to incorporate some of these elements into furniture. Soon after I learned about Joan Carrigan on Saltspring Island, basket maker and teacher. I’ve taken a few classes from Joan and plan to take more. I’ve learned how to prepare and work with red cedar, cherry and willow bark. This introduction has led to a bit of a bark obsession; Joe and I have spent all these years working with the inside of the tree, now we’re finding new possibilities with the outside. This summer we pulled cedar bark from some trees nearby that were slated to be taken out for road construction. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time, since reading Hilary Stewart’s fantastic book  Cedar.

We decided two of the door panels would be woven red cedar bark. I wove a simple 2, 2 twill pattern. There is a lot of work that goes into preparing the bark before you can get weaving, including sizing all the weavers to width. I made a tool to do so, copying one that Joan had made. I felt particularly ‘crafty’ having harvested the bark, making the tools, and weaving the panels.

weaving cedar bark

The bark panels had to be pushed into the door frames to dry so they would retain the proper shape. It takes about 36-48 hours for the cedar to completely dry out. We wanted to install them that afternoon so…. I made a couple of forms that were the same size as the door openings and dried them out in our new convection oven, 175 Fahrenheit for about half an hour did the trick! I knew the oven would be great for roasting veggies but did not imagine I’d use it for this.

forms for drying the panels

I was hiking last spring and found a bitter cherry tree (prunus emarginata) that was standing dead in the forest. I’ve since learned that this species prefers moist forests and along streams. It’s also a pioneer in logged areas, which explains why they are so plentiful on Mt. Prevost. The woodpeckers were just starting to go at the tree, but the bugs and fungus had been working on it for some time. The cambium, the layer of the tree just below the bark was completely rotten and eaten away, leaving the bark on the outside.

Prunus emarginta

We wanted to see if we could harvest some of it and use it in some way.  We made a vertical slit up the trunk (cherry bark grows in a bands around the circumference) and with a little persuasion gently peeled away the bark in sheets.

Joe peels the bark away

Back at the shop the bark needed a bit of scraping to remove the last bit of cambium. The front is a light grey color, but as you gently scrape the surface a beautiful rich, deep shiny red appears. We had a few narrow strips that we scraped completely to red and it looked exactly like prosciutto! It is quite strong along its length and has a slightly waxy feel to it.

We also had to figure out how to mount it. It had to be backed up, and we also had to find a way to deal with the small oblong slits (called lenticels) that are a naturally occurring feature of this kind of bark. Filling all the slits was not an option as we couldn’t sand the bark; we ended up painting the backer board black and using spray contact cement to attach the bark. Hooray for modern adhesives.

In addition to bark in the door panels we also used rusty sheet steel. We had experimented with this material in a previous project, although this time we added a clear coat that gave a nice sheen and enriched the colour. We combed through our inventory of unusual wood bits and pieces and found some spalted maple that worked perfectly. Spalting refers to a kind of coloring, sometimes spidery black lines that some woods show in the beginning stages of decay caused by fungus. When the lumber is dried the process stops, leaving interesting patterns in the wood. The other interesting wood we used was some ]]> It’s good practice from a design standpoint not to throw out or discount your crazier ideas. Its very often those ideas that are the precursor to new directions in your work. I’ve also found that being unsure or a bit uncomfortable about an idea is often a sign of growth, and not necessarily a sign that your idea is bad. Now, finding clients who are willing to indulge your creative whims, especially unproven ones, is a bit of a challenge. But every once in a while we have a client who is willing to go out on a ‘creative limb’, in fact they encourage it.

Gail is just such a client. In describing her project she was very clear on two points; she wanted lots and lots of storage, and visual interest derived from texture. We were to design a grouping of cabinets for the living room/dining room that would hold books, small art objects, and some glassware and china. The main material was to be western maple, Gail liked the idea of using a readily available local wood.

The concept that we put forward was to make simple, solid maple cabinets with sliding doors. The doors were quite large, and divided asymmetrically. Every door was unique, but related to each other by using the same sizes of divisions arranged in different ways. We used the golden rectangle as a tool to arrive at pleasing proportions. The golden rectangle is derived from the golden section; the ratio of the two different side lengths in the rectangle is a factor of 1.618. In the last few years we’ve been focused on using asymmetry as a dominant theme our furniture. It seemed a natural fit in this project.

At our meeting to pitch our design, we dragged along a bunch of samples of what we wanted to use as panels in the doors. This was the crux of the design- to use interesting and varied materials in the doors that would relate to and compliment each other. Now, some people would look at you like you were a bit crazy if you showed up with a large sheet of rusty sheet metal and said ‘I want to put this is your nice living room cabinets, but it will be smaller and less dirty than this’. Luckily for us, Gail got it! We also brought along split red cedar (shakes, like for a roof), and samples of some unusual wood. We got the go ahead, and decided to completely finish the cabinets and door frames and then play with different materials to ‘compose’ the doors, with Gail’s help.

We constructed the cabinets by dovetailing them with a router jig. A couple of the cabinets were quite long, 106″ or so. I woke up on the morning I was going to start the joinery realizing that they were far, far too long to fit in the jig on the workbench. We had to come up with some way… we dragged the jig into the attic and set it up there, so the cabinet parts could hang through the attic hatch. Joe would feed them up to me and I got them clamped in and away we went.

Sandra in the attic!

cabinet joinery

a partly finished cabinet

The cabinets sat on short ‘feet’ that we made out of some yew wood that we had. Yew has an unusual color and is a great compliment to the maple. They looked so pretty after oiling them.

We made four cabinets in total, all of them different. The two larger ones are on either side of the living room, and we thought that adding some lights in the open portion of the cabinets would be a nice touch and add some accent lighting to the room. LED technology has come a long way in the past few years and we were able to purchase LED puck lights that have a nice warm colour, as opposed to that nasty blue that they all used to be. The lights operate via a touch sensor /three position dimmer. Once we installed them and secured all the wires, transformer, and other bits to the bottom of the cabinet it looked like there was a bomb strapped to it! They functioned perfectly.

About a year and a half ago I was at home sick with the flu and Joe brought me home some books from the library, including Lark Books 500 baskets from their 500 series. I was smitten; these were not just functional baskets. They were sculpture, they were art. I was drawn to the infinite varieties of form and texture, and wondered if I might be able to incorporate some of these elements into furniture. Soon after I learned about Joan Carrigan on Saltspring Island, basket maker and teacher. I’ve taken a few classes from Joan and plan to take more. I’ve learned how to prepare and work with red cedar, cherry and willow bark. This introduction has led to a bit of a bark obsession; Joe and I have spent all these years working with the inside of the tree, now we’re finding new possibilities with the outside. This summer we pulled cedar bark from some trees nearby that were slated to be taken out for road construction. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time, since reading Hilary Stewart’s fantastic book  Cedar.

We decided two of the door panels would be woven red cedar bark. I wove a simple 2, 2 twill pattern. There is a lot of work that goes into preparing the bark before you can get weaving, including sizing all the weavers to width. I made a tool to do so, copying one that Joan had made. I felt particularly ‘crafty’ having harvested the bark, making the tools, and weaving the panels.

weaving cedar bark

The bark panels had to be pushed into the door frames to dry so they would retain the proper shape. It takes about 36-48 hours for the cedar to completely dry out. We wanted to install them that afternoon so…. I made a couple of forms that were the same size as the door openings and dried them out in our new convection oven, 175 Fahrenheit for about half an hour did the trick! I knew the oven would be great for roasting veggies but did not imagine I’d use it for this.

forms for drying the panels

I was hiking last spring and found a bitter cherry tree (prunus emarginata) that was standing dead in the forest. I’ve since learned that this species prefers moist forests and along streams. It’s also a pioneer in logged areas, which explains why they are so plentiful on Mt. Prevost. The woodpeckers were just starting to go at the tree, but the bugs and fungus had been working on it for some time. The cambium, the layer of the tree just below the bark was completely rotten and eaten away, leaving the bark on the outside.

Prunus emarginta

We wanted to see if we could harvest some of it and use it in some way.  We made a vertical slit up the trunk (cherry bark grows in a bands around the circumference) and with a little persuasion gently peeled away the bark in sheets.

Joe peels the bark away

Back at the shop the bark needed a bit of scraping to remove the last bit of cambium. The front is a light grey color, but as you gently scrape the surface a beautiful rich, deep shiny red appears. We had a few narrow strips that we scraped completely to red and it looked exactly like prosciutto! It is quite strong along its length and has a slightly waxy feel to it.

We also had to figure out how to mount it. It had to be backed up, and we also had to find a way to deal with the small oblong slits (called lenticels) that are a naturally occurring feature of this kind of bark. Filling all the slits was not an option as we couldn’t sand the bark; we ended up painting the backer board black and using spray contact cement to attach the bark. Hooray for modern adhesives.

In addition to bark in the door panels we also used rusty sheet steel. We had experimented with this material in a previous project, although this time we added a clear coat that gave a nice sheen and enriched the colour. We combed through our inventory of unusual wood bits and pieces and found some spalted maple that worked perfectly. Spalting refers to a kind of coloring, sometimes spidery black lines that some woods show in the beginning stages of decay caused by fungus. When the lumber is dried the process stops, leaving interesting patterns in the wood. The other interesting wood we used was some veneer that we think is box elder, the veneer seller wasn’t entirely sure. This veneer was extremely unusual in that some borer insect had had it’s way with the tree, and where the holes remained so did really beautiful and varied streaks of color. Gail really loved it. Lastly, we used some architectural textured glass.

Here are the finished cabinets:

It occurred to Joe and I that the theme for this project could be ‘decay’ as well as texture. We had steel that was rusting, maple that was rotting, veneer with insect holes, cherry bark that the bugs had liberated… nevertheless the result was some quite lively furniture. We are most certainly going to visit this theme again, and I have my eyes on a few cherry trees that look like they might not last too many winter storms.

At the other end of the spectrum… sideboards and cabinets of similar design. These are ‘fun’ in a different way, like a really challenging hike/bike/run etc. where you were in some discomfort, but looking back on the experience you’re really glad you did it. That’s how we feel about sideboards. They’re a real challenge because they are so complex; technically there are many issues to contend with, there are lots and lots of parts, and you have components that have mechanical function (doors and drawers). In our experience nothing consumes hours like a cabinet with multiple doors and drawers. But the pay off is equally big; the last step is complete and you can step back and see something really (hopefully) impressive. I have been known to stand in front of a just completed cabinet and repeatedly pull a drawer open and closed; a Homer Simpson voice in my head saying the words “drawer goes in, drawer goes out”.

This past week we finished a 2 door/5 drawer sideboard, a companion piece to a dining table we made last year. The design was visually quite simple; curved legs that play off the shape of the dining table legs, curved side panels, and a subtle curve in the bottom rail. We relied on the proportioning of the doors and drawers to create divisions that are pleasing to the eye, and then made the cabinet out of some beautiful curly cherry that we’ve been hoarding for quite some time. We ‘garnished’ the finished cabinet with macassar ebony handles.

As is our way we completed the design but didn’t work out any of the construction details until we were ready to start. Okay, I admit it, I started work on it before knowing exactly how I was going to build it. Which is why for the first week of the project I awoke at 5 in the morning visualizing legs and rails, shelves and dividers. When there  are many different components you have to get a good grasp on the overall before committing to any one specific thing. It sounds a bit silly but I often close my eyes and just kind of ‘see’ how the parts come together. It’s an essential skill to visualize in 3D.

This sideboard is made of a combination of solid cherry, some cherry veneer, and a bit of plywood. We usually don’t use much plywood or veneer but in this design it was really the best material for the job. The inside of the case has custom cherry plywood for the internal gables (that’s the sides) and bottom shelf. We veneered the side panels onto a high quality 1/4″ plywood. This enabled us to slide the side panel into a groove that runs parallel to the curve of the leg. What we ended up with was a sort of double side; curved on the outside to compliment the legs, straight on the inside so we could hang the drawers and adjustable shelves. While routing the grooves for the side panels on a Friday evening, Joe broke our last 1/4″ router bit. Luckily we have very good friends, the sort who you can borrow a 1/4″ router bit from on a Friday night… thanks Michael and Pam!

side 'sandwich' of panels and rails

the curved side panel

I love twin tenons.  If I had to pick a favorite joint it would probably be a twin tenon. Is that as nerdy as it sounds? For the non wood worker, in a mortise and tenon, the tenon is the sticky-out male bit, the mortise the female bit. A twin tenon is as the name implies, two tenons side by side in the same rail. It is rather tricky business to get two of these guys to fit perfectly, but when you do… so strong! You have to use a mallet to put the joint together because there is so much friction. Is it hot in here? I used twin tenons on most of the rails. It is traditional to use them on the thin rails that divide the compartments (called the web frame).

legs with all the joinery complete

For the very top rail in carcass (cabinet) construction, a dovetail joint is used. You can’t use a twin tenon because you’re at the end of the leg, a dovetail slides down from the top and keeps the legs from pulling apart. I took a cue from a woodworking great, Garrett Hack, and used two instead of one. Very pleasing!

two is better than one!

At one point I was a little concerned about gluing this behemoth up, there were a lot of parts that had to go together in a very specific order. Glue up can be a very stressful time in a relationship, tempers rise, things get said. We have a saying in our shop, “what happens in glue-up stays in glue-up”. Luckily good planning resulted in things going smoothly. It took about 3 days for the entire case to be assembled.

cabinet back assembly

cabinet parts

gluing up the front

Once the case was assembled, Joe tackled the doors while I took on the drawers. We like to make saddle jointed doors, a saddle joint is a mortise and tenon that is the full width and depth of the door parts. It looks nice because you can see the structure and also makes for a very strong door. For the panels, we made our own veneer. We sawed it at 3/32″ thick on or band saw, and made book-matched panels.

re-sawing veneer

door joinery- saddle joints

For the drawers, we used edge grain cherry for the sides, and solid walnut drawer bottoms.  We like pulling open the drawer and seeing the nice contrast of the dark brown walnut next to the cherry. The drawers are side hung, meaning we ran a groove in the sides of the drawers and they run on wooden runners.  This method of running the drawers has a nice feel to it and they function well over time.

side hung drawers

I have been making a concerted effort over the last few years to improve my skills with hand tools. So, I dovetailed all the drawers by hand, half blind at the front (as in the above image), and through at the back. Our friend Andy stopped by the shop while I was at it and called me a masochist, but there is no other way to get really good at something. It’s all about practice, practice, practice! The reward is well worth the effort. Luckily my boss didn’t care how long it took… oh wait, that’s me!

dovetailed drawer parts

For the handles, we chose Macassar ebony from our remaining inventory. Ebony is so beautiful, and is a dream to work with but we are committed to not purchasing more due to it’s scarcity. The 7 handles took me about a day to make by the time the shapes were all worked out. There are different sizes for the bottom 2 drawers, door and top drawers to match the scale of the part they were mounted on. They were rather fun to shape.

scroll sawing the handles

handle shaping

Once the drawers and doors are made, they need to be fit and hung. Then there are a few picky things left like adjustable shelf supports, drawer stops, door latches, drilling for handles… Then the best part: the first coat of finish. It makes the wood come alive, especially cherry. We used Osmo, a naturally derived oil/wax blend.

sideboard carcass ready for finish

And the finished cabinet:

With thanks to Pat and Joe, new sideboard ]]> Sometimes people ask us what our favorite thing to build is. Without hesitation we always answer ‘tables’. Why? Tables are fun. It is relatively easy to fulfill the functional requirements of design with tables; flat, stable surface, correct height off the floor, proper clearance for some chairs, and you’re there. The rest is usually creative stuff. It’s easy to manipulate the aesthetics of a table without worrying too much about compromising function. Tables also tend to have relatively few parts. At it’s most basic, it’s 4 legs, 4 rails, and a top. A dining table may look big and impressive, but it may be the same basic construction as a coffee table.

At the other end of the spectrum… sideboards and cabinets of similar design. These are ‘fun’ in a different way, like a really challenging hike/bike/run etc. where you were in some discomfort, but looking back on the experience you’re really glad you did it. That’s how we feel about sideboards. They’re a real challenge because they are so complex; technically there are many issues to contend with, there are lots and lots of parts, and you have components that have mechanical function (doors and drawers). In our experience nothing consumes hours like a cabinet with multiple doors and drawers. But the pay off is equally big; the last step is complete and you can step back and see something really (hopefully) impressive. I have been known to stand in front of a just completed cabinet and repeatedly pull a drawer open and closed; a Homer Simpson voice in my head saying the words “drawer goes in, drawer goes out”.

This past week we finished a 2 door/5 drawer sideboard, a companion piece to a dining table we made last year. The design was visually quite simple; curved legs that play off the shape of the dining table legs, curved side panels, and a subtle curve in the bottom rail. We relied on the proportioning of the doors and drawers to create divisions that are pleasing to the eye, and then made the cabinet out of some beautiful curly cherry that we’ve been hoarding for quite some time. We ‘garnished’ the finished cabinet with macassar ebony handles.

As is our way we completed the design but didn’t work out any of the construction details until we were ready to start. Okay, I admit it, I started work on it before knowing exactly how I was going to build it. Which is why for the first week of the project I awoke at 5 in the morning visualizing legs and rails, shelves and dividers. When there  are many different components you have to get a good grasp on the overall before committing to any one specific thing. It sounds a bit silly but I often close my eyes and just kind of ‘see’ how the parts come together. It’s an essential skill to visualize in 3D.

This sideboard is made of a combination of solid cherry, some cherry veneer, and a bit of plywood. We usually don’t use much plywood or veneer but in this design it was really the best material for the job. The inside of the case has custom cherry plywood for the internal gables (that’s the sides) and bottom shelf. We veneered the side panels onto a high quality 1/4″ plywood. This enabled us to slide the side panel into a groove that runs parallel to the curve of the leg. What we ended up with was a sort of double side; curved on the outside to compliment the legs, straight on the inside so we could hang the drawers and adjustable shelves. While routing the grooves for the side panels on a Friday evening, Joe broke our last 1/4″ router bit. Luckily we have very good friends, the sort who you can borrow a 1/4″ router bit from on a Friday night… thanks Michael and Pam!

side 'sandwich' of panels and rails

the curved side panel

I love twin tenons.  If I had to pick a favorite joint it would probably be a twin tenon. Is that as nerdy as it sounds? For the non wood worker, in a mortise and tenon, the tenon is the sticky-out male bit, the mortise the female bit. A twin tenon is as the name implies, two tenons side by side in the same rail. It is rather tricky business to get two of these guys to fit perfectly, but when you do… so strong! You have to use a mallet to put the joint together because there is so much friction. Is it hot in here? I used twin tenons on most of the rails. It is traditional to use them on the thin rails that divide the compartments (called the web frame).

legs with all the joinery complete

For the very top rail in carcass (cabinet) construction, a dovetail joint is used. You can’t use a twin tenon because you’re at the end of the leg, a dovetail slides down from the top and keeps the legs from pulling apart. I took a cue from a woodworking great, Garrett Hack, and used two instead of one. Very pleasing!

two is better than one!

At one point I was a little concerned about gluing this behemoth up, there were a lot of parts that had to go together in a very specific order. Glue up can be a very stressful time in a relationship, tempers rise, things get said. We have a saying in our shop, “what happens in glue-up stays in glue-up”. Luckily good planning resulted in things going smoothly. It took about 3 days for the entire case to be assembled.

cabinet back assembly

cabinet parts

gluing up the front

Once the case was assembled, Joe tackled the doors while I took on the drawers. We like to make saddle jointed doors, a saddle joint is a mortise and tenon that is the full width and depth of the door parts. It looks nice because you can see the structure and also makes for a very strong door. For the panels, we made our own veneer. We sawed it at 3/32″ thick on or band saw, and made book-matched panels.

re-sawing veneer

door joinery- saddle joints

For the drawers, we used edge grain cherry for the sides, and solid walnut drawer bottoms.  We like pulling open the drawer and seeing the nice contrast of the dark brown walnut next to the cherry. The drawers are side hung, meaning we ran a groove in the sides of the drawers and they run on wooden runners.  This method of running the drawers has a nice feel to it and they function well over time.

side hung drawers

I have been making a concerted effort over the last few years to improve my skills with hand tools. So, I dovetailed all the drawers by hand, half blind at the front (as in the above image), and through at the back. Our friend Andy stopped by the shop while I was at it and called me a masochist, but there is no other way to get really good at something. It’s all about practice, practice, practice! The reward is well worth the effort. Luckily my boss didn’t care how long it took… oh wait, that’s me!

dovetailed drawer parts

For the handles, we chose Macassar ebony from our remaining inventory. Ebony is so beautiful, and is a dream to work with but we are committed to not purchasing more due to it’s scarcity. The 7 handles took me about a day to make by the time the shapes were all worked out. There are different sizes for the bottom 2 drawers, door and top drawers to match the scale of the part they were mounted on. They were rather fun to shape.

scroll sawing the handles

handle shaping

Once the drawers and doors are made, they need to be fit and hung. Then there are a few picky things left like adjustable shelf supports, drawer stops, door latches, drilling for handles… Then the best part: the first coat of finish. It makes the wood come alive, especially cherry. We used Osmo, a naturally derived oil/wax blend.

sideboard carcass ready for finish

And the finished cabinet:

With thanks to Pat and Joe, new sideboard owners.

Yellow Cedar Coopered Tub

Since that project, we’ve had an interest in all things coopered. It seems to be a form/ skill / technology that is barely holding on in modern times. Wooden barrels used to be the state of the art in shipping goods; they carried everything from nails to whiskey. Now the only commercial use for barrels I know of is the wine and spirits industry.

Our friend Sarah (and proud owner of the above wooden tub) was telling us this spring that she wanted to take a barrel making course- we said count us in if you find one! Barrels were not in the cards but she did find a coopering course making red cedar buckets at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking. Being that PT is just a short ferry ride away, we signed up.

Two things being a woodworker has taught me are 1) the true value of handmade goods, both from a financial aspect and an aesthetic one, 2) how to really see an object beyond it’s utilitarian purpose. So for us, a bucket is not necessarily just a bucket; it conveys a particular set of skills the maker possesses, and can be an object for aesthetic appreciation.

While we were taking the course I kept think about the book by David Pye “The Nature and Art of Workmanship”. In it he states that it is common to equate ‘good’ with ‘precise’ and ‘bad’ with ‘rough’- and that this is in fact false. He writes

In some cases precision is necessary to soundness, but in many others it is not, and rough workmanship will do the job just as well. In some cases precision is necessary to the intended aesthetic expression but in others if is not and, on the contrary, rough workmanship is essential to it.

I think handmade objects such as the buckets we made in the course embody this idea perfectly. The finished object is absolutely beautiful, each one unique. I love the texture of the rough cedar, the tool marks of the maker, the black streaks from the iron, and the hammer marks on the bands. Too much of our modern built environment is filled with ‘cookie cutter’ goods.

We started with rounds of red cedar and a froe to split off 3/4” thick pieces. Splitting from one side ensures the pieces will not taper along their length. A pattern for the size of the stave was drawn on the pieces, then we used an axe to rough out the taper, being careful to stay at least 1/8” outside the lines. Each bucket has 16 staves.

Splitting red cedar with a froe

rough tapering the staves

Next came the fun part- using the giant cooper’s plane! This is the biggest hand plane you’ll find anywhere. The plane is clamped to the bench and the wood pushed over it. Our instructor, Steve, made his using the guts out of antique wooden soled plane. Joe and I started to make one as soon as we got home this week. The staves need to be both tapered and beveled, this was achieved free-hand on the cooper’s plane. We used the pencil lines of the pattern for the taper, and a ‘clapper gauge’ for the bevel. The first few staves took quite a while to get right, once we got the feel for it it went much faster. It was rewarding to just trust the eye, so often we rely on jigs and things for precision, with this we just went at it. Sometimes all you need is practice. (like sharpening!).

Cooper's plane- watch those fingertips!

Clapper Gauge

Using the clapper gauge

Once we had all our staves to the correct taper and beveled, we cleaned up the inside face with a draw knife. Steve had a pair of really fabulous draw knives- Joe and I were rather taken with them. The handles fold closed on the blade edge for storage, and also lock in a few different positions. A great design- Robin Lee, are you reading this? We’d buy one in a second!

Draw knife cleans up the staves

Next, the staves are stood on end and temporary hoop is fitted over to pull them together. This allows a measurement to be taken for the bands. It’s a bit of a guess, given that they will be driven down onto the staves. Experience is the thing here, given that we had none Steve helped us to judge where to measure from. It’s starting to look like something…

We made the bands out of 1/8” X 1” band iron. Once cut to length, we shaped them into a circle by hand; first just standing on the band while pulling up on the end, then hooked in the vice when the radius got tighter. The ends went into a vice for drilling, then aluminum tinner’s rivets were pounded in and peaned over.

Drilling for Rivets

With hearing protection in place, the hoops were pounded on an anvil to flare them to the taper of the bucket. Pounding the bottom edge expands the steel, making the flare. It was rather hard work, but incredibly satisfying too. When we got home, Joe started looking into anvils. He now NEEDS an anvil. I had no idea how much one of these is worth- upwards of $1,000 for a decent one. I now know why, although I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. It turns out that one of the best anvil manufactures is in Port Townsend, maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t find that out when we were down there… But I agree, we do need an anvil.

Hammering the Bucket Hoops

With the hoops complete, it’s time to pound them down on the staves. Both of the hoops are installed, and then the bottom of the bucket is trimmed. With the bottom of the bucket propped up level, a pencil is used to scribe a line around the bottom. A handsaw is then used to cut to the line. The inside bottom of the bucket is then faired with a scorp (I love that word) and/or a gouge.

Trimming the bottom

Scorping the inside of the bucket

A cooper’s tool called a croze is used to cut a shallow groove for the bottom. Steve’s was a rather rustic affair, a re-purposed saw blade in a post, held with a wedge. It did the trick. He also had a router plane with a custom cutter for doing the same thing. I didn’t get to use this one, but I wish I had. It cut much cleaner. We’ve since been on the internet looking at antique cooper’s tools, and there are some great ones out there.

Croze

Modified router plane

We measured for the bottom using a set of dividers. Setting the dividers to step exactly six times around the groove for the bottom swings the  right radius for the bottom. Isn’t geometry great! I need to learn more about dividers. We used the band saw to cut the circle. Besides the drilling in the steel, it was the only power tool we used. I hope in the future they have something non-electrified to do this with, just because everything else was.

Shaping the bottom of the bucket

Both sides of the bottom are beveled so it will fit in the 1/4” groove. We used draw knives and block planes to achieve this. The bottom hoop is temporarily removed, and the bottom is pushed down in until, finger’s crossed, it seats with a satisfying ‘thunk’ into the groove. Mine did, others were not so lucky the first time and a bit of fitting was necessary. Pound the bottom hoop back on and you’re almost there. Some folks chose to level out the top of their buckets, others left them the way they were.

Pounding the bottom hoop on

Joe was the first to finish and ‘wet test’ his bucket. It’s supposed to leak at first, the idea is that the wood swells and ]]> A few years ago, Joe and I had the good fortune to get a commission for a coopered bathtub. Joe had always wanted to build one so we jumped at the chance. There was quite a steep learning curve (not to mention the whole must hold water thing), but we had a lot of fun doing it.

Yellow Cedar Coopered Tub

Since that project, we’ve had an interest in all things coopered. It seems to be a form/ skill / technology that is barely holding on in modern times. Wooden barrels used to be the state of the art in shipping goods; they carried everything from nails to whiskey. Now the only commercial use for barrels I know of is the wine and spirits industry.

Our friend Sarah (and proud owner of the above wooden tub) was telling us this spring that she wanted to take a barrel making course- we said count us in if you find one! Barrels were not in the cards but she did find a coopering course making red cedar buckets at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking. Being that PT is just a short ferry ride away, we signed up.

Two things being a woodworker has taught me are 1) the true value of handmade goods, both from a financial aspect and an aesthetic one, 2) how to really see an object beyond it’s utilitarian purpose. So for us, a bucket is not necessarily just a bucket; it conveys a particular set of skills the maker possesses, and can be an object for aesthetic appreciation.

While we were taking the course I kept think about the book by David Pye “The Nature and Art of Workmanship”. In it he states that it is common to equate ‘good’ with ‘precise’ and ‘bad’ with ‘rough’- and that this is in fact false. He writes

In some cases precision is necessary to soundness, but in many others it is not, and rough workmanship will do the job just as well. In some cases precision is necessary to the intended aesthetic expression but in others if is not and, on the contrary, rough workmanship is essential to it.

I think handmade objects such as the buckets we made in the course embody this idea perfectly. The finished object is absolutely beautiful, each one unique. I love the texture of the rough cedar, the tool marks of the maker, the black streaks from the iron, and the hammer marks on the bands. Too much of our modern built environment is filled with ‘cookie cutter’ goods.

We started with rounds of red cedar and a froe to split off 3/4” thick pieces. Splitting from one side ensures the pieces will not taper along their length. A pattern for the size of the stave was drawn on the pieces, then we used an axe to rough out the taper, being careful to stay at least 1/8” outside the lines. Each bucket has 16 staves.

Splitting red cedar with a froe

rough tapering the staves

Next came the fun part- using the giant cooper’s plane! This is the biggest hand plane you’ll find anywhere. The plane is clamped to the bench and the wood pushed over it. Our instructor, Steve, made his using the guts out of antique wooden soled plane. Joe and I started to make one as soon as we got home this week. The staves need to be both tapered and beveled, this was achieved free-hand on the cooper’s plane. We used the pencil lines of the pattern for the taper, and a ‘clapper gauge’ for the bevel. The first few staves took quite a while to get right, once we got the feel for it it went much faster. It was rewarding to just trust the eye, so often we rely on jigs and things for precision, with this we just went at it. Sometimes all you need is practice. (like sharpening!).

Cooper's plane- watch those fingertips!

Clapper Gauge

Using the clapper gauge

Once we had all our staves to the correct taper and beveled, we cleaned up the inside face with a draw knife. Steve had a pair of really fabulous draw knives- Joe and I were rather taken with them. The handles fold closed on the blade edge for storage, and also lock in a few different positions. A great design- Robin Lee, are you reading this? We’d buy one in a second!

Draw knife cleans up the staves

Next, the staves are stood on end and temporary hoop is fitted over to pull them together. This allows a measurement to be taken for the bands. It’s a bit of a guess, given that they will be driven down onto the staves. Experience is the thing here, given that we had none Steve helped us to judge where to measure from. It’s starting to look like something…

We made the bands out of 1/8” X 1” band iron. Once cut to length, we shaped them into a circle by hand; first just standing on the band while pulling up on the end, then hooked in the vice when the radius got tighter. The ends went into a vice for drilling, then aluminum tinner’s rivets were pounded in and peaned over.

Drilling for Rivets

With hearing protection in place, the hoops were pounded on an anvil to flare them to the taper of the bucket. Pounding the bottom edge expands the steel, making the flare. It was rather hard work, but incredibly satisfying too. When we got home, Joe started looking into anvils. He now NEEDS an anvil. I had no idea how much one of these is worth- upwards of $1,000 for a decent one. I now know why, although I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. It turns out that one of the best anvil manufactures is in Port Townsend, maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t find that out when we were down there… But I agree, we do need an anvil.

Hammering the Bucket Hoops

With the hoops complete, it’s time to pound them down on the staves. Both of the hoops are installed, and then the bottom of the bucket is trimmed. With the bottom of the bucket propped up level, a pencil is used to scribe a line around the bottom. A handsaw is then used to cut to the line. The inside bottom of the bucket is then faired with a scorp (I love that word) and/or a gouge.

Trimming the bottom

Scorping the inside of the bucket

A cooper’s tool called a croze is used to cut a shallow groove for the bottom. Steve’s was a rather rustic affair, a re-purposed saw blade in a post, held with a wedge. It did the trick. He also had a router plane with a custom cutter for doing the same thing. I didn’t get to use this one, but I wish I had. It cut much cleaner. We’ve since been on the internet looking at antique cooper’s tools, and there are some great ones out there.

Croze

Modified router plane

We measured for the bottom using a set of dividers. Setting the dividers to step exactly six times around the groove for the bottom swings the  right radius for the bottom. Isn’t geometry great! I need to learn more about dividers. We used the band saw to cut the circle. Besides the drilling in the steel, it was the only power tool we used. I hope in the future they have something non-electrified to do this with, just because everything else was.

Shaping the bottom of the bucket

Both sides of the bottom are beveled so it will fit in the 1/4” groove. We used draw knives and block planes to achieve this. The bottom hoop is temporarily removed, and the bottom is pushed down in until, finger’s crossed, it seats with a satisfying ‘thunk’ into the groove. Mine did, others were not so lucky the first time and a bit of fitting was necessary. Pound the bottom hoop back on and you’re almost there. Some folks chose to level out the top of their buckets, others left them the way they were.

Pounding the bottom hoop on

Joe was the first to finish and ‘wet test’ his bucket. It’s supposed to leak at first, the idea is that the wood swells and any small leaks will stop. At least that’s the idea. Joe’s was pretty good, water came out but not gushing. How cool!

Now that we’re home and have had the bucket full for a few days, it’s holding water just fine.  Jake seems to prefer drinking from it much than his old plastic one. And we will definitely be making more buckets, and who knows what else? Our cooper’s plane is underway, and we’ve got a big pile of red cedar ready for the froe. All we need is that anvil….

PS

I just grabbed the grocery list off of the kitchen counter and Joe’s written ‘anvil’ between ‘eggs’ and ‘coffee’. No lie!

Our original skepticism quickly faded when we spotted the tree- it was indeed a monster. We got rather excited. It was still alive and was in full leaf, but was laying almost on the ground, supported by a few large branches. The tree had been growing at the edge of a hay field but was now on the field; some of its roots were in the ground keeping the tree going but it was surely doomed. After many phone calls and emails, we managed to secure the tree. By this time it was October and the field was really, really squishy. Oh- and access was by a steep, grass covered road. We hired the folks at Porlier Pass Contractors to bring in a big excavator, low boy trailer and dump truck to pull the logs out. If we didn’t get it out then, we’d have to wait a year.

loading the logs

Before the excavator could be brought in, we had to decide where to buck the log (it was about 40′ or 50′long), cut the limbs, and dig out part of the butt end. After a locked gate it’s about a 10 minute walk to where the tree was so we put the big chainsaw with the 48″ bar in our old backpack (yes, really) and rode our bikes out to the site to do the prep work.

Joe sizes up the log before initial cutting

The next week the excavator came to the site, pulled the logs out, and delivered them to the sawyer. It’s a good thing they brought the big excavator; we did some estimates and figure the big section weighed north of 12,000 pounds. Due to a few delays on our end and his, we just got to milling the logs this past week.

huge log, huge forklift!

To mill logs of this size, you need a really big sawmill. Eugene at Raven Creek Timber Products has just such a mill. It was custom made to his specifications on the Lower Mainland, and had two carriages; one a band saw and the other a circular saw. He can also cut huge slabs by changing over the mill to hold a chain saw, which he did for our oak logs. I didn’t even know you could buy a 60″ bar for a chainsaw- but Eugene has one.

Eugene slabbing the log

Looking at logs like these and deciding where to start cutting is a bit of a puzzle- you need to try and anticipate what the inside is going to look like, which orientation is going to yield the best grain and get you the most lumber.  We started by taking some dimensional lumber (1 1/2″ X 6″) off the very top of the log.  This part of the log is less valuable because it has quite a bit of sapwood. Our original plan was to make a lot of dimensional lumber out of the logs, and also take a few large slabs for some glorious table tops.  Once we got inside the log, we could see that the grain was very ‘swirly’, moving every which way.  In some species, this is desirable for lumber. In oak, however, the nicest lumber is very straight grained.  We formulated a plan B- make slabs out of the whole works.

Sandra gives some size perspective to the log

It was incredibly exciting to see the inside of the log- while not the best for dimensional lumber it had absolutely stunning grain; swirling movement, beautiful colour, and some figuring around many of the features.

beautiful swirling grain

We brought the slabs back to our shop and spent a lot of time carefully stacking them. The  more carefully you stack and cover the wood, the better it will turn out in the end.  The first step is to make an absolutely level platform up off of the  ground. The ‘green’ (wet) wood will conform to the shape of whatever it is sitting on, hence to need for level.  It needs to be well off the ground to allow for proper air circulation, and most importantly to get it away from the bacteria, fungi and mold that contact with the ground would provide.  Sticks (‘stickers’) are placed between each layer of lumber in the stack to support all the wood and provide air circulation.  The ends of all the lumber is coated with a special log end sealer to help reduce cracks (or ‘checks’) from forming at the ends of the boards. Lastly, all the stacks are covered with steel roofing to keep the rain and the sun off of the wood.  The rule of thumb for air drying lumber is that it needs one year per inch of thickness.  The slabs we cut ranged from 3″ to 4″ thick, so we are looking at about 5 years or longer before we will be able to use the slabs.  It might be even longer; garry oak is very slow to dry due to its density and cell structure.

Most of the slabs came in somewhere around 40″ to 56″ wide and 13′ long.  Right now, full of all that water we estimate that they weigh about 1200 pounds each! We rented a crane truck to lift them into place, but they will need to be moved, turned, and re-stacked over the drying period. Next significant purchase for Gelinas Carr: forklift.

first load of slabs

Joe and I have gone behind the shop quite a few times to just have a look at our new stacks of beautiful wood, anticipating the day when we will be able to make some incredible dining tables out of the slabs.  Some people see just a stack of wood, woodworkers see future glory!

Jake keeps an eye on things...

the first mock up

One of the design techniques we use often is to do a full size mock up.  Seeing the piece in its entirety helps greatly to get the proportions, shapes, etc. just right.  It also helps in working out how to actually build something if there are any technical issues.  We used plywood to get the shape of the top just right, and some scrap pine to work out the base.  Except that it didn’t work.  Like at all.  The top looked great, but the base was awkward and…  kind of boring.  Somehow, what I’d seen in my mind’s eye just was not translating well.  We called our clients and got the go ahead to do something completely different.  We weren’t sure just what but they trusted us to do whatever we thought would go with the top.  Thanks, Linda and Peter!

Some years ago Joe made this pair of  tables that have what he refers to as ‘bimorphic joints’; meaning that the legs and rails are joined together and then shaped as one after assembly.

second mock up under way

We’ve wanted to do more work like this, and figured this look would work for our table.  Sam Maloof’s iconic rocking chairs are the best example of this method.

Maloof rocker

We fiddled around with how to make the legs and rails look right.  Legs out at the three corners didn’t work, nor did our original rail locations.  We threw all that out the window and went with a center rail, with rails and legs branching off that.  Low and behold it did look very organic, much like a tree branch grows off the trunk.  Two of the legs were positioned near the corners, the third was quite a way in from the corner.  This design had the advantage of the legs being independent of each other.  This meant less tricky angled joinery, or at least less tricky angled joinery that had to form a closed triangle.

At this point Joe took over the construction and shaping of the table.  We each have our strengths and weaknesses; and I am happy to admit that Joe has a better eye than I do for judging curves.  He also has a more cautious approach to wood removal that was definitely advantageous, given that we don’t do this kind of shaping very often.  We had decided to make two tables at the start of the project, thinking it was going to turn out well,  and also so if something went horribly wrong we would have another table.  We used one as a sort of guinea pig.

after assembly, but before final shaping

Being a married couple who works together can have its…. quirks.   While Joe was working on the table I wasn’t around much during the days, I had some other things to attend to.  But it was always great to come home at the end of the day and witness the progress… or lack thereof.  It seems that even without articulating “is that all you got done today?” I have a way of conveying “is that all you got done today?”  I said that he was cautious, and that’s the reason it turned out so well.  But time spent in the shop sometimes has a different quality than time outside the shop.  It takes patience, careful consideration, and paying very close attention to every step along the way to make something really good, especially when you are making it for the first time.  This is why what we do is not inexpensive.  Most people have no point of reference for how long it takes to make something from start to finish; as a society we’re are used to having ready made things available to us.  We are certainly grateful that there are folks out there who appreciate the value of what we and others like us are trying to do.

a close-up of the finished table

Here’s the finished tables- one is currently on display at the Eco Design Gallery in Victoria, 17 1/2 Fan Tan Alley, second floor.

Shop dogs are a lucky bunch.  All the ones I know live a life of both leisure and stimulation, laying around the office or yard most of the time, but also having the role of greeting clients and making friends with truck drivers, rides to the hardware store, and accompanying their people on deliveries.  They look  forward to coffee time as much as we do, for their play time.

We are pleased to introduce Jake, our new shop dog.  Jake came to us from the SPCA in Nelson.  We are very grateful to the folks there for making the adoption happen, and to Karen who fostered Jake and took such good care of him.  And a big acknowledgment to Pacific Coastal Airlines who transports dogs free of charge for the SPCA- what a great service they provide.  Jake has been with us for a week now, and like Dane before him is already learning the importance of coffee time.

Our property is located on the outskirts of town, and we get some interesting wildlife.  We have a large tract of forest to the west, and we are one of the first properties you encounter after the forest.  This is where a lot of animals like to hang out, given the safety of the forest and the proximity of food (read: anything I or anyone else tries to grow).

We have a small herd of Roosevelt elk that regularly pass through our front yard.  I have counted up to 18 at any one time, usually a mix of cows and calves, with a few juvenile bulls.  In the past few days, however, the dominant bull of the herd has decided that our front yard is a good spot to have breakfast.  We’ve been here almost 6 years, and have seldom seen the dominant male venture out in the open.  He’s been grazing not 10 feet off of our front deck.

I didn’t feel too bad about getting a late start this morning, we sat and watched this amazing creature nibble our lawn while having our morning espresso.  Working at home is really great sometimes.

With work of this size, you bring the tools to the work, not the work to the tools as you do with furniture. Not having many of the specialized timber framing tools that are available (like a 16 inch circular saw… when’s my birthday?), we improvised, doing much of the work with hand tools.

We decided to surface all the parts with a hand plane, as it leaves a very pleasing surface  and deals with the marks left by the machines.  Another of the surface finishing details that we decided on was to use a Haida style knife to texture all of the end grain in the roof structure.

We planned on hand splitting long cedar shakes to cover the roof.  Our good friend Jesse is a pro at this, having  just covered his own cabin in cedar shakes, all of salvaged material.  He had access to an old bridge timber and he and Joe brought back a truck load of  huge blocks.  They were wet, really heavy, and it was a huge chore just to get them back to the shop.  The wood, however, looked beautiful; deep red with really tight grain.  We got our froe out of the shed and split the first shake.  It did not go well!  The grain in this log was completely interlocked and instead of nice flat planks, we got deep furrows of about three quarters of an inch, with a lot of splinters.  At this point we did what we usually do when faced with an obstacle of this nature; we stopped, had a beer (it was hard work moving those shake blocks), and looked at the problem.

We decided that we could saw planks out of the blocks instead.  We would just have to flatten one face and then use the band saw to mill them up.  A little more brainstorming brought us to one of the methods of roofing that the First Nations of our coast had used for their houses.  We had read about the planking method in Hiliary Stewart’s amazing book Cedar.  Large planks were shaped to have a dish running along their length.  The first row was laid with the dished side facing up, and the second row was laid with the dished side facing down, bridging the joints.  Large stones were laid on the planks to weight them down.  The rain always follows the lowest point and runs off the roof, in a fashion similar to a terracotta tile roof.  We used a combination of a moulding head on the table saw and our shaper to run the profile in all of the planks.  As with many of the unforseen obsticles that crop up from time to time, we were happier with the solution to the ‘problem’ than with our original plan.  It was more work than split shakes, but we are thrilled with how it turned out.

We still had to figure out how to attach the structure to the posts.  In traditional timber framing, a knee brace would join the roof members to to posts.  We did not want any braces here because they would interfere with the natural look of the trees, and joining them to the trunks would require removing the bark, which we did not want to do.  We decided to use timber framing screws.  These are exceptionally long screws meant for just such a task.  However, we did not not want to rely on screws only.  An aluminum plate was embedded down into the top of the post and pinned through the side with half inch rod.  The plate protruded far enough from the top of the post to through-bolt to the cross members of the roof.  How do you cut an eighteen inch deep recess in the top of a post? Chainsaw.  As the loving partner of the person twelve feet in the air, balancing on the as yet unattached roof, and weilding a chain saw for a plunge cut, I was rather nervous.  As they say, don’t try this at home!  Joe did a great job, and came away unscathed.

Jesse with the aluminum attachment plate

Once all the structural members were in place and attached, the roof ’tiles’ were spaced out and fastened.  After all the heavy lifting, drilling and bolting; seeing the roof covering go on was really exciting.

And the finished product…

We thank our wonderful client for allowing us to go wild with our imagination and build something we are really proud of.  I hope it does her wonderful garden justice!

We always jump at the chance to do exterior work. Some people are surprised at this, thinking we only keep to inside the house. We love the different design possibilities, working on a bigger scale, and doing work that can be slightly more forgiving in the degree of exactness that is required. Plus we can buy big pieces of wood!

Our client gave us no parameters beyond the fact that the swing be made of yellow cedar. We kicked around quite a few ideas before we came up with the idea of using George Nakashima’s conoid chair as a starting point. I’ve always loved Nakashima and that chair in particular. The idea of cantilevering the seat members from the back got us moving in a direction away from the expected ‘plank on a rope’ method. We thought that the repetition of identical repeating parts that were fitted together would be striking, and also solve the technical issues of building for the outdoor elements such as wood movement and drainage. We also realized that having the back parts hang past the seat would allow for some sculptural possibilities with the shaping. The final look of the swing doesn’t bare a lot of resemblance to Nakashima’s chair, but nevertheless it is how we got it.

We built a full size mock up out of some scrap to make sure the seat angle and depth were right, and to sort out the hardware that would hang the swing. We made a few changes and then made it for real in yellow cedar. Both the seat and back parts were drilled for 5/8 stainless steel rod which runs through the swing from side to side. We had a company in Victoria that does sailboat rigging make us up some lengths of stainless cable with eyes ‘swaged’ on the ends. With some careful machining by our friend (thanks Michael!) the eyes slipped over the rod and were secured with some hex drive stainless machine bolts. The eyes were secured in such a way that they were still able to swivel on the rod. All four cables then passed up through the overhead beam and were secured with cable clamps. This method allowed us to adjust the length of each cable individually to level the swing properly. The scale of stainless hardware we used was much heavier than what was needed, but we wanted the look of all the high end marine fittings to be part of the aesthetic.

We obviously thought that the swing was going to be the major portion of this commission.  That was until we decided that the whole thing needed a significant roof to keep everything in proportion and give the look we wanted.  In the next post: tackling the roof.