An Artist in Wood ~ a WORD FROM sAM
If you are familiar with Richard Dawkins' The Selfish Gene, you will understand that my story began a really long time ago, possibly with a mutant termite.
At 31, walking off a job that had become awful, in September, still having a little GI Bill remaining, I signed up for some crafts courses at Virginia Commonwealth University, just to heal from the trauma, get sane again.
As soon as I touched wood, heaven's gates opened. All those genes, languishing for expression, gained freedom. The planets aligned. You've heard of messianic teachers, mine was Alan Lazarus, fresh from the School for American Crafts, Rochester. It was a new program and protocols had not yet crystallized. I still can't draw very well, probably couldn't get in today. Al was just there, answering my questions with "atta boys".
I studied with Al for a year. The bloom was leaving the rose as protocols firmed. I left at the high point, bought a carriage house studio on Richmond's Church Hill, first white to return, 1968. Stayed there for 10 years, lived off my work with occasional odd jobs. Parents were chagrined at first, till I started getting some recognition in the press. Life was easy then, the building cost $4k. Today, maybe $200k. Reality thwarts creativity.
I made and sold maybe 80 pieces. Each had to be a new idea, no reproductions. My well ran dry, was time to move on. I married again, to a sweetie, moved to Urbanna, VA. Got a job in a boat yard using those woodworking skills. Sweetie left me. Phil Friday of Friday's Marine tried to sell me an unfinished boat, got me thinking. Floundering for another consuming project, I decided to sail around the world. Short story; I soloed the Atlantic in a 28' cutter, one off built by a Frenchman, Marc Ginisty. Jilled around the Mediterranean for two years, lost my nerve at Port Said, Egypt, and returned to Mathews County, VA, where I grew up.
Time passed, those selfish genes, having tasted freedom, reared their heads again. Bought a rock quarry in Louisa, VA. Set up shop again. Had no really new ideas, lowered the bar and started rehashing old ideas. That was enough to keep the genes sated. Living in Louisa was the most lonely time of my life.
I had accumulated maybe 30 pieces. There was only work, drink, and TV in Louisa. A friend, John Bryan, arranged for me to have a show at LaDiff, fine furniture store in Richmond. Made about $40k. A good day's work for art in Richmond. Sold the Louisa property and machines, everything.
More time passed. I'm still prisoner to the selfish gene. I set up another studio at Brookland Park Boulevard, Richmond three years ago: 16" jointer, 18" planer, etc. Am almost 80 now. Life's issues are clear and simple. I am only happy when designing and making furniture. Decisions are simple and I'm doing the best work of my life.
Since this (was written for) a wood trade magazine, I'm trying to stay on point. This is one man's story of being a prisoner to wood. I mainly use cherry and white oak, kiln dried. I have found a good supplier, Christian Bumont in Powhatan (804-837-0601), fair prices and good quality. I am concerned with matching grain only on table tops and such. Otherwise, trusting to chance works as well as anything. I use Titebond II glue, sticky stuff, but takes so long to set. Started out with Elmers, sets in an hour, get on with the next layer.
In truth, my designs are part of that gene pool mix. However, clever artists learn to talk about their art. So, when pressed, I explain that my ideas well from my atavistic memory, star stuff, before recorded time, synthesizing the amorphic and geometric. I throw in the golden mean sometimes, 1:1.6, from the Greeks, works well.
I use basic joinery, mortise and tenon, etc., but I cut it to fit, then glue it, no chiseling out. Quick, and it works. Sometimes reinforced with internal threaded rod. My finish is Klean Strip linseed oil, Home Depot, no added chemicals, saturating the wood till it won't hold anymore, wet sanding all the time. Sometimes, I experiment with melting 5% bees wax in a double boiler, sometimes mix polyurethane for a harder finish.
As a Buddhist, I pay attention for all possibilities, stay in the moment, follow my bliss.
~SF
At 31, walking off a job that had become awful, in September, still having a little GI Bill remaining, I signed up for some crafts courses at Virginia Commonwealth University, just to heal from the trauma, get sane again.
As soon as I touched wood, heaven's gates opened. All those genes, languishing for expression, gained freedom. The planets aligned. You've heard of messianic teachers, mine was Alan Lazarus, fresh from the School for American Crafts, Rochester. It was a new program and protocols had not yet crystallized. I still can't draw very well, probably couldn't get in today. Al was just there, answering my questions with "atta boys".
I studied with Al for a year. The bloom was leaving the rose as protocols firmed. I left at the high point, bought a carriage house studio on Richmond's Church Hill, first white to return, 1968. Stayed there for 10 years, lived off my work with occasional odd jobs. Parents were chagrined at first, till I started getting some recognition in the press. Life was easy then, the building cost $4k. Today, maybe $200k. Reality thwarts creativity.
I made and sold maybe 80 pieces. Each had to be a new idea, no reproductions. My well ran dry, was time to move on. I married again, to a sweetie, moved to Urbanna, VA. Got a job in a boat yard using those woodworking skills. Sweetie left me. Phil Friday of Friday's Marine tried to sell me an unfinished boat, got me thinking. Floundering for another consuming project, I decided to sail around the world. Short story; I soloed the Atlantic in a 28' cutter, one off built by a Frenchman, Marc Ginisty. Jilled around the Mediterranean for two years, lost my nerve at Port Said, Egypt, and returned to Mathews County, VA, where I grew up.
Time passed, those selfish genes, having tasted freedom, reared their heads again. Bought a rock quarry in Louisa, VA. Set up shop again. Had no really new ideas, lowered the bar and started rehashing old ideas. That was enough to keep the genes sated. Living in Louisa was the most lonely time of my life.
I had accumulated maybe 30 pieces. There was only work, drink, and TV in Louisa. A friend, John Bryan, arranged for me to have a show at LaDiff, fine furniture store in Richmond. Made about $40k. A good day's work for art in Richmond. Sold the Louisa property and machines, everything.
More time passed. I'm still prisoner to the selfish gene. I set up another studio at Brookland Park Boulevard, Richmond three years ago: 16" jointer, 18" planer, etc. Am almost 80 now. Life's issues are clear and simple. I am only happy when designing and making furniture. Decisions are simple and I'm doing the best work of my life.
Since this (was written for) a wood trade magazine, I'm trying to stay on point. This is one man's story of being a prisoner to wood. I mainly use cherry and white oak, kiln dried. I have found a good supplier, Christian Bumont in Powhatan (804-837-0601), fair prices and good quality. I am concerned with matching grain only on table tops and such. Otherwise, trusting to chance works as well as anything. I use Titebond II glue, sticky stuff, but takes so long to set. Started out with Elmers, sets in an hour, get on with the next layer.
In truth, my designs are part of that gene pool mix. However, clever artists learn to talk about their art. So, when pressed, I explain that my ideas well from my atavistic memory, star stuff, before recorded time, synthesizing the amorphic and geometric. I throw in the golden mean sometimes, 1:1.6, from the Greeks, works well.
I use basic joinery, mortise and tenon, etc., but I cut it to fit, then glue it, no chiseling out. Quick, and it works. Sometimes reinforced with internal threaded rod. My finish is Klean Strip linseed oil, Home Depot, no added chemicals, saturating the wood till it won't hold anymore, wet sanding all the time. Sometimes, I experiment with melting 5% bees wax in a double boiler, sometimes mix polyurethane for a harder finish.
As a Buddhist, I pay attention for all possibilities, stay in the moment, follow my bliss.
~SF
