Another type of woodworking

I've heard it said that if someone spends too much time in a furniture making workshop, they risk the possibility of becoming a piece of furniture themselves!  I haven't exactly noticed any stretchers growing out between my legs, but for quite a few years I have had an additional occupation of removing trees, both in residential settings and in the woods.  I find the heavy work intrigues, and it does get me out of my lonely in the shop, the chance to work around some good people who are well experienced in the business and very enjoyable to associate with.  Mostly a crane operator rings me up to assist him on jobs these days, on the average three or four times a month, just enough to provide a change of scenery and to keep my hand in it. Chainsaws are also tools that I enjoy using very much, sometimes modifying them to obtain greater power, they are a deep subject if you want to pursue it.

Tree work is very much a trade that best has a lot of study associated with it, if one wants to gain efficiency and try to help mitigate the dangers.  There can be a certain degree of unpredictability that goes along with it, tremendous diversity in the situations, so being careful on all fronts requires a lot of awareness.  Working at heights has it's challenges and enjoyments, the need to pay close attention to what you are doing, lesser so to where you are doing it.  Overcoming the fear factor has been quite interesting, if not spooky, and there are payoffs besides the wages, the air is amazingly fresh and clean above the forest floor, the view sometimes sublime that few get the opportunity to see, it can be most invigorating. The work gives a chance to visit some locations in the prefecture that otherwise I wouldn't, and to mix it up with the locals a bit. Tree cutting brings them out of their houses, people want to investigate, and there is a fascination. There is also the opportunity to sometimes obtain logs for what I do in the shop as well, though in my area, Pine or a pretty unusable Cedar is often what is being cut.  Unusable for furniture that is, though the logs go to auction and are purchased for use in construction. Some large trees are in our schedule from time to time, sometimes hundreds of years old, particularly at temples or shrines, and around the old farmhouses.  Why they need to be removed isn't a subject for much debate, age and disease has affected many of them, leaving in that state can be very dangerous to people and structures below.  The forest trees haven't been maintained very well, removing some to allow more light to help the others to better prosper is a valuable consideration.

Thought that I would post a few of the times and places, hope that you enjoy the photos, click to enlarge.

 

A tip from Asia

Our ubiquitous bamboo works very well for pining joints.  It is quite strong, and with better resiliency compared to most woods of a similar dimension.  In the states, you can often find what will work at markets that have an Asian food section, probably sold as skewers in a pack, around 1/8" diameter, and sometimes larger ones are also available.  I mostly use the smaller size, pin all the leg stretchers on chairs this way, and some other places where I want a lock with minimal appearance.  It works great.  Especially with darker woods, it reveals a small point of attention; a nice tiny detail for those that care to see.

There is some variation in the diameters in a pack, so I find it best to drill a hole slightly small and the skewer can be easily sized down quickly with sandpaper for a perfect minimal resistance slip in fit.  I put a little angle on the end with a rasp before pushing it in, a slight amount of glue applied.  The bamboo doesn't seem to swell up as much as wood does when glue touches the surface, perhaps barely at all, and it is a bit slippery to begin with.  A little tight and it taps in with a hammer.  Too tight and it will likely become stuck only part of the way in, so you will end up having to drill it out and redo.  Snip and pear it flat with a chisel...no muss no fuss, and the process goes quick.

The skewers can be useful for other things as well;  applying a spot of "instant glue' to under a sliver of grain that has lifted up, or pushing a cloth with finish on it into a recess, etc.  Some thoughtful person brings a bottle of sake, nicely drunk with yakitori grilled in the stove in the shop, not a bad reason to have some skewers around either....

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Zelkova serrata

Referred to as 'Keyaki' in Japan, a type of Elm, the wood from the tree is one of the most revered
materials for woodwork.  It has been widely used through history in construction and for furniture or other interior items.  A deciduous tree of medium hardness, the wood has a unique and striking golden color to it, and the grain is often quite beautiful, and with a number of pattern variations.  I haven't used it so much, the grain being rather bold, I found it a little strong when wanting to produce subtle designs, but my eye has been changing and I'm liking it more and more for furniture.

The tree grows quite abundantly in Japan and is hearty.  It has been suggested as a good replacement for Elms in the states, so ravaged by the Dutch Elm disease, Zelkova being greatly resistant to the blight.
Favored in gardens around homes, the mature tree makes for great shade, so you usually don't have to go far when in some areas to find nice old specimens.  The size can become huge, with very broad limb spreads, the tree often being hundreds of years old. It is seen in parks and around temples as well, and sometimes will be lining a street in the city.  There are still a few ancient trees that can be found, on up to a thousand years old or more.

The wood can sometimes be rather hard and heavy, but it isn't a particularly difficult material to work with, either when machining or when using hand tools.  Wood from younger trees is rather susceptible to warping, so it's the material from the older trees that is most desirable, and with the longer growing, there is usually also the advantage of better color and tighter grain.  Like other Elms, the grain tends to be very interwoven, so it is less susceptible to cracking than a lot of hardwoods.  In that respect, doing things like wedging tenons close to the edge of the wood can be done successfully, where with other species a much greater degree of caution would be required.

The chair is made from Keyaki, a design I picked up from an old one that belonged to a friend in England. I don't recall what the original was made from, possibly Beech with an Elm seat, a common combination of woods during the era in which it was built. It had been his grandfather's chair, and was still in very good condition and getting daily use.  I lightened and simplified mine a bit, particularly the legs which had a series of rings, changed the way the arm joins into the back corner post, and later an urushi artist finished it with a number of coats of lacquer.  I thought that it turned out very well. It sold at an exhibition in Nagoya, and another person requested that I make him one as well.  Very nice to receive the positive response, as I had not built this design for a number of years, and the first time in Zelkova.  The seating is comfortable, and makes a very nice desk or reading chair, and terribly English...

The Urushi is fairly dark initially, but lightens up considerably over time.  Photos don't really do it justice.  The sheen is very warm and inviting with a very attractive depth, and it is also amazingly durable as a finish.

A habit

I have a few friends that drop by my shop and like to smoke, so I made a quick ashtray.  If it burns up, I'll make another one, having a lot of these wood scraps around. I enjoy a decent cigar myself, especially one made from the fine woods, Acacia and Ebony!

Sometimes it's good to depart the production for business aspect of woodworking, and just make something for the enjoyment of it, call it the default setting.  Furniture making can be very demanding, wood has a mind of it's own, and the constant level of attention and physical effort that is required.  Remembering the impetus at the beginnings of a trade helps to give staying power, sometimes referred to as 'first mind'.

Small local exhibition

Not far from my shop is the birthplace of a well known urushi artist, Takahashi Setsuro.   It has been turned into a museum celebrating his life and work, and they allow a part of the original house that has been reconstructed, to be sometimes used for exhibitions.  Visitors go through the main building housing Mr. Takahashi's work, then they can filter out to behind where there is the house and a nice garden.

Considering the garden, I also made some outdoor furniture; a small table and a chair in Canadian Red Cedar.  Perhaps one alternative to the ugly plastic outdoor seating that seems to be taking over the world, and considered so cheap and practical by the people who buy it.  With the rot resistant Red Cedar, and perhaps some basic care to protect from constant exposure to rain, I believe that the wooden furniture would provide quite a long term of use.

There were a number of art events in town occurring during the week of the exhibit, so periods were not infrequent when visitors were few.  I didn't mind, the museum is located in a very peaceful area, and sitting in the quiet grounds with nobody about was very enjoyable.

Nakamichi san

This man was my main teacher during my apprenticeship, a member of the company where I trained.  I sat a little over two meters to his left when working, for four years.  He began his own career at the age of thirteen, in the town of Kobe.  He had vast experience building all different types of furniture, but at some point had become a specialist in chairs, perhaps simply because the shop needed one, furniture of western taste was becoming more and more common.

A transformation would take place every morning when he came into work.  A quiet and simple person of relatively slight build, appearing not dissimilar to any somewhat elderly man that you might pass on the street and not glance at twice, but once he dressed in his gray trousers and shirt that he always wore when at the shop, the sense about him would become one of superior strength and confidence.  He truly exemplified the shokunin, going about the tasks in a relaxed and definite way, and also conveying a powerful if not fearful atmosphere from his long experience and high degree of commitment to his work. The furniture he built was clean, even from left to right, and had an appearance of efficiency to it's making, something that is not so often seen in woodwork, where one can struggle with the details.  He had profound knowledge and skills, the man was a great inspiration for me.

The last day of my apprenticeship, I waited outside the shop to sat goodbye and to offer my thanks.  I thought that it would be good to be alone together for a moment, away from the other craftsmen . He looked at me, somehow in a way that seemed slightly different from before, acknowledged my thank you, and said, "You have to get faster".  Then he turned and walked out the gate. That was it, no sentimentality, or a pat on the back like I might have wished for, simply his final instruction about the work.  All the years that have passed since that took place, the realization remains regarding the wisdom in his parting words, and it is still true, I do have to get faster.

Sometimes I would stop in and see Mr. Nakamichi and his wife on the infrequent visits to Japan some years after.  He had retired after sixty years as a craftsman, his health was not so great.  We would drink tea together, maybe a chat about how things were going for me as a furniture maker, and I might bring out some photos of what I had been doing.

The last time I visited Mr. Nakamichi, he was bed ridden and only semi conscious, a short time before his death.  When I entered his home, his wife said to me, "Go upstairs, you will be surprised to see him making furniture again".  I couldn't understand what she might be saying, because I knew that he was not in a good way.  When I entered his room, I saw that indeed he was at his trade again, in bed with his eyes closed, with his hands going through the motions.  At one point he was holding a dozuki saw and making a fine cut in a piece of wood, his straight cut, it was unmistakable.

My adze

Great Britain has a lot to offer in terms of a wonderful history of chairmaking, I would say the finest in the world, as far as diversity and the degree of excellent work that was done there. One of the traditional skills I picked up working in that land was learning the use of the chair adze for roughing out seats, the work of the 'bottomer'.  This particular adze I purchased from a second hand tool dealer before leaving the country, but it was really a gutter adze with a much narrower curve across the width than is suitable for chairs.  A blacksmith in the states shortened and reshaped it to my liking. He did an excellent job, including with the re-tempering, and it holds it's edge very well.  One of my favorite tools.  Today, there are other ways to initially shape a seat, using routers and grinders that rely on electricity and make a lot of noise.  I prefer to stick with the adze, not an easy skill to learn, but I believe one worth keeping alive in the more modern age, compared to a time when such a method was commonplace.

Great Britain has a lot to offer in terms of a wonderful history of chairmaking, I would say the finest in the world, as far as diversity and the degree of excellent work that was done there. One of the traditional skills I picked up working in that land was learning the use of the chair adze for roughing out seats, the work of the 'bottomer'.  This particular adze I purchased from a second hand tool dealer before leaving the country, but it was really a gutter adze with a much narrower curve across the width than is suitable for chairs.  A blacksmith in the states shortened and reshaped it to my liking. He did an excellent job, including with the re-tempering, and it holds it's edge very well.  One of my favorite tools to use, and a lot of experience is required to have sufficient control when roughing out a seat.  Today, there are other ways to initially shape a seat, using routers and grinders that rely on electricity and make a lot of noise and fine dust.  I prefer to stick with the adze, not an easy skill to learn, but I believe one worth keeping alive in the more modern age, compared to a time when such a method was commonplace.

The lower photo is of a 'bottomer', the man employed in an English chair shop to rough out the seats.  Quite possibly the photo was taken in the early 1900s.  Lots of seats to work on, the stacks behind him indicate.  The wood is likely Elm. The short handle would make the work particularly grueling,  I can only wonder how his back held up?