{ Category Archives: material provenance }
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.
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.
someone left a rose in a driftwood log
I can’t think of a better way to recalibrate after an intense week of studio woodworking than a morning of beachcombing after a string of storms. I appreciate more and more living and working so close to the shore, and find daily release and inspiration being able to take a walk, a run, or an occasional dip in the surf when the waves are rideable. I always return to the studio refreshed, having put things in perspective simply by tuning in to the flotsam of the day.
beach erosion has uncovered an old engine block
I found a great piece of wood for my first driftwood skate deck
With enough rainfall, Estero Americano drains to the sea, becoming seasonally tidal
My favorite chair, by far, is an ocean kayak. To unwind after an intense week of new projects, I spent a quiet afternoon idly paddling down Estero Americano, my favorite local slough, now flooded to the coast. The marshy, seasonally tidal estuary is like a living almanac of coastal California birds, evidenced by my encounters with numerous cormorant, dowitcher, egret, snipe, willet, loon, night heron, bufflehead, black skimmer and, closer to the beach, a flock of white pelican.
It’s coming up on two years since I created this site, whose first post was inspired by a paddle down the same stream. This time around, my voyage taught me less about the material provenance of my chair design, and more about the simple pleasures of sitting with nature.
The white pelican takes flight over Estero Americano
a bounty of foraged hedgehog, pig’s ear, white prince* and cauliflower mushrooms
Earlier this week, my friend Josef Szuecs invited me to join him on a late season mushroom foraging expedition. Joe has been writing a seasonal Mushroom Report for DeepCraft, and is deeply steeped in mushroom culture, having collected, cooked and eaten wild mushrooms since he was a boy. Over the years, I have occasionally hunted mushrooms with friends who like to cook with foraged goods, but remain a novice in the field of mycology, and will be forever respectful of the risks inherent in eating wild fungi. I’m grateful for Joe’s expertise in the field, and have been carefully preparing my harvest, eating the hedgehogs straight up, drying the black chanterelles by the fire, and frying the rest for freezing.
*Note: The edibility of the White Prince is disputed, and Joe advises against eating it. Continue Reading »