{ Category Archives: studio process }
I’ve always liked to use chalk when roughing things out on wood. Lately I’ve taken to scouring the beaches during negative low tides in search of seashells for making my marks. The Pacific Razor Clam is ideal, softer than the East Coast equivalent, but hard enough to make a clean scratch, and loaded with calcium carbonate to leave a crisp white line.
I can relate to the work style of a 1930’s American cabinet shop (public domain)
After over a year of design development with the architect and client, selecting logs of deodar cedar and having them custom milled and cured to outfit the interior of a new guest house down the coast, I’m regaining perspective on my original thinking behind how I approached the project: Shuffling the Tree.
As my cabinets, doors and built-in furnishings take shape, each part of the tree finds its corresponding use in built form, the planks having been painstakingly graded for grain character, color and structural integrity. The process of hand sorting thousands of board feet of air-dried, rough sawn lumber has been slower than I had anticipated, but well worth the effort, and I’m feeling less overwhelmed as I convert my neatly stickered piles into glowing wooden furnishings. I’m taking extra pains not to use any laminated sheet materials, constructing all casework in solid stock.
I’ve found that designing and building this way automatically bestows a building with a feeling of belonging-ness, as though the house stands in honor of the tree it displaced. When the material is locally sourced from the waste stream, diverted from horticultural salvage that might otherwise be burned as firewood, the building’s interior has the added benefit of reducing carbon emissions to the atmosphere. I call my approach ‘bioregional vernacular’, and I’m glad for the opportunity to test its scalability.
cabinets of deodar cedar w/face frames, stacked up while I prepare doors and drawers
To follow my progress on designing and building the guest house interior, please click here and scroll down.
Greenwood: Selective Harvesting Preserves Forests
Though I’ve built just one boat to date, I’ve been an avid reader of WoodenBoat magazine for over 25 years. The publication is a major torch-bearer for the practice of traditional boat-building, and a treasure trove of primary source knowledge for all things wood. My favorite feature is invariably the Wood Technology column by Richard Jagels, forest biologist and professor at University of Maine. The persistence of woodcraft requires constant adaptation to changing conditions, and Richard’s column always provides valuable, in-depth perspective on forest ecology as it relates to sourcing and processing wood products.
I was thrilled to learn that Jagels has taken his work out of the halls of academia as a founding director of Greenwood Global, a non-profit dedicated to protecting both forests and traditional artisanry internationally.
surfer/shaper Andy Lambrecht takes a break in Sayulita
I met surfboard maker Andy Lambrecht on our last day in Sayulita, Mexico. I noticed his handmade wooden board by the beached fishing boats as we were packing up and getting ready to catch a bus back to Puerto Vallarta. Based in British Columbia, Andy makes a variety of hollow surfboards using reclaimed woods from local sources, which he typically re-saws and book-matches in elegant patterns- imperfections like nail holes are artfully incorporated into each board’s unique composition.
Andy is on paternity leave and will be in Sayulita with his wife and their two young daughters for three months, surfing and hanging out (talk about a health care program!). He brought along his shaping tools and has already landed a commission- a surfboard in exchange for work on his ailing car after the arduous journey southward. I look forward to keeping in touch with Andy Lambrecht, and have invited him and his family for a visit on their way back up the coast.
the surfboard originated in Hawaii, where local woods were shaped for specific waves
I’ve body-surfed all my life and have a natural feel for wave mechanics, but I’m finally getting ready to learn to surf on a board. Being a ‘wood guy’ with access to local mills and several decent breaks within a few miles, my first step will be to shape my own board. Luckily, my first surfboard will double as an integral part of our NOMO (non-motorized transportation) exhibition we’re developing as artists in residence at Kohler Arts over the summer.
Believe it or not, Sheboygan, Wisconsin has one of the best fresh water breaks in the world. So I’ve conceived of my surfboard as a freshwater longboard indigenous to the shores of Lake Michigan, modeled on the early surfboards native to Hawaii, which were shaped of local Koa and Balsa. Because freshwater is less buoyant than saltwater, I’ve been researching the specific gravity of Lake Region woods, looking for large trees with straight, clear grain and low specific gravity for maximal flotation and easy carving. I’ve discovered that American Cottonwood (Populus freemontii) still grows prolifically in the lowlands of Wisconsin, and with a specific gravity of around 0.31, is ideal for shaping a surfboard. The tree grows equally well along the Pacific Coast of Northern California, so I’ll make a prototype and test it locally.
To follow the development of our wowhaus artist-in-residence project at the JM Kohler Arts Center, please click here and scroll down.
Sayulita, Nayarit, Mexico
Spending time in Sayulita always restores my faith in humanity. For whatever combination of reasons- its remoteness through jungle along the Pacific Coast, cut-off from major roads until relatively recently; its consistently overhead, left/right break; its laid back balance of bohemian surf culture and traditional fishing village- everyone is unabashedly happy in Sayulita. Like guests at a well-hosted party, everyone has a unique role to play, the machinery oiled by mutual trust and respect. When the ‘little things’ that comprise daily life take precedence over the ‘big things’ outside our control, everyone takes charge. When the inverse is the case, the opposite is true.
‘Le Corbusier meets Gilligan’s Island’ characterizes the playful architecture of Sayulita
the Greens management team loved my prototype Greens Chair
Like the Golden Gate Bridge that looms across the Bay from San Francisco’s historic Fort Mason Center, Greens Restaurant is a Bay Area icon. With close ties to the San Francisco Zen Center, the restaurant has embodied an ethos of attentive living and eating for over thirty years, heralding a new age of vegetarian cuisine. I recently presented my prototype Greens Chair, which I was commissioned to design by the restaurant’s management team, and was truly honored to have it pass their rigorous requirements of functionality and aesthetics. The Greens management team includes acclaimed chef Annie Somerville and at least one ordained zen Buddhist priest, and everyone took turns testing the chair with earnest focus. The team agreed that the chair encourages mindfulness for both diners and staff, which is the highest compliment to me.