Great article! I’ve jokingly used “provincial” to describe elevated designs that are finished with a drawknife. Don’t know if it’s the right adjective, but it seems to me that it describes “rustic as a choice.”
I've always struggled with this, and have never been completely satisfied with my results. And it depends on the project. Follansbee doesn't "refine" (I hate that word), but his surfaces, seen and unseen, are true to original works. I've seen plenty of reproductions that are just way off, because they try to perfect those surfaces.
It doesn't fit on a 17th century piece. But on a late 18th century reproduction the show surfaces are flat and regular. No ripples or toolbars on a John Townsend piece. But on secondary surfaces they are all kinds of ugly. I can't get my brain to do that.
I have a couple of rules I follow. If part of the show surfaces get sanded, they all do. Finish highlights the difference between a planed surface and a sanded one, and I don't like the difference. So I sand it all, or none of it. Usually, I sand.
And if a piece is sanded, but there are areas not seen but touched, I like those to be right off an edge tool. They feel better. I love the feel of a drawknifed surface under chair arms, where your hands like to touch while sitting.
Thanks, John. That makes sense to me, especially the "felt not seen" sections of a project. There's something about the "feel" that elevates a piece, even if it is unseen.
Rough secondary surfaces...I'm with you there. And I think today's audience wants nice secondary surfaces. It's become an expectation.
I think, when I share this idea of "when is the surface finished" in class or with others, that it's a personal decision that takes time to before it is established. The furniture maker decides. Which is a challenge in a class (classes like clear instruction and direction) and especially with a new chairmaker. So I usually say to "scrape and sand" the surfaces...it's the safer and more consistent recommendation.
I always struggle with the words, "rustic" and "refined", as well. I gravitate towards replacing rustic with "honest", which makes sense to me, but I'm not sure that understanding carries over to others. Not to mention the implication that the more "refined" work is dishonest. Organic is another close one, but still not quite right.
A few years ago my local lumberyard started selling "Rustic Hickory," "Rustic White Oak," and a couple others. What it meant, in reality, we're boards so twisted and full of knots that i wouldn't use them on a pallet.
Thanks, Matt. Glad I'm not the only one that struggles with these terms. "Rustic" seems too large an umbrella term to capture everything that doesn't fit into another category. It's more for my own thinking, and in sharing with others.
The debate over ‘refined’ vs rustic or provincial or vernacular or even ‘edgy’ always reminds me of a remark made during a long-past performance of the Country Fiddle band assembled from Marlborough Music musicians. The Marlborough students are classical musicians of great skill and precision, and the fiddle-band-leader spoke of how they had great difficulty creating an authentic ’fiddle’ sound, until each musician deliberately de-tuned their concert violins in disparate small ways. With edges softened and perfect synchronicity abandoned, the old tunes came alive with character and gained the honesty of a country gathering.
Music, furniture, houses, boats — beauty is sometimes in the imperfections.
reminds me of the Hunter Thompson quote - "the Edge... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."
"the finished piece - there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have needed to make a replacement piece"
Great article! I’ve jokingly used “provincial” to describe elevated designs that are finished with a drawknife. Don’t know if it’s the right adjective, but it seems to me that it describes “rustic as a choice.”
Thanks, Lewis. I'm enjoying the chairs coming from your shop. Hope things are well.
I've always struggled with this, and have never been completely satisfied with my results. And it depends on the project. Follansbee doesn't "refine" (I hate that word), but his surfaces, seen and unseen, are true to original works. I've seen plenty of reproductions that are just way off, because they try to perfect those surfaces.
It doesn't fit on a 17th century piece. But on a late 18th century reproduction the show surfaces are flat and regular. No ripples or toolbars on a John Townsend piece. But on secondary surfaces they are all kinds of ugly. I can't get my brain to do that.
I have a couple of rules I follow. If part of the show surfaces get sanded, they all do. Finish highlights the difference between a planed surface and a sanded one, and I don't like the difference. So I sand it all, or none of it. Usually, I sand.
And if a piece is sanded, but there are areas not seen but touched, I like those to be right off an edge tool. They feel better. I love the feel of a drawknifed surface under chair arms, where your hands like to touch while sitting.
Thanks, John. That makes sense to me, especially the "felt not seen" sections of a project. There's something about the "feel" that elevates a piece, even if it is unseen.
Rough secondary surfaces...I'm with you there. And I think today's audience wants nice secondary surfaces. It's become an expectation.
I think, when I share this idea of "when is the surface finished" in class or with others, that it's a personal decision that takes time to before it is established. The furniture maker decides. Which is a challenge in a class (classes like clear instruction and direction) and especially with a new chairmaker. So I usually say to "scrape and sand" the surfaces...it's the safer and more consistent recommendation.
I always struggle with the words, "rustic" and "refined", as well. I gravitate towards replacing rustic with "honest", which makes sense to me, but I'm not sure that understanding carries over to others. Not to mention the implication that the more "refined" work is dishonest. Organic is another close one, but still not quite right.
A few years ago my local lumberyard started selling "Rustic Hickory," "Rustic White Oak," and a couple others. What it meant, in reality, we're boards so twisted and full of knots that i wouldn't use them on a pallet.
Thanks, Matt. Glad I'm not the only one that struggles with these terms. "Rustic" seems too large an umbrella term to capture everything that doesn't fit into another category. It's more for my own thinking, and in sharing with others.
The debate over ‘refined’ vs rustic or provincial or vernacular or even ‘edgy’ always reminds me of a remark made during a long-past performance of the Country Fiddle band assembled from Marlborough Music musicians. The Marlborough students are classical musicians of great skill and precision, and the fiddle-band-leader spoke of how they had great difficulty creating an authentic ’fiddle’ sound, until each musician deliberately de-tuned their concert violins in disparate small ways. With edges softened and perfect synchronicity abandoned, the old tunes came alive with character and gained the honesty of a country gathering.
Music, furniture, houses, boats — beauty is sometimes in the imperfections.
Thanks, David.
reminds me of the Hunter Thompson quote - "the Edge... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."
"the finished piece - there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have needed to make a replacement piece"
thank you for the Thompson quote. That hits the right note.