When I see true “Asian” pieces, I can appreciate how they influenced Arts & Crafts designers. I am much more versed in the language of Craftsman design and may well have mixed aesthetics especially in the handle.

This project was a whirlwind because I made it as a Mother’s Day gift for my Mother-in-law and started it the day before her visit! Unfortunately (or fortunately) I didn’t have time to research Asian design. I’m certain that with more time and research there are elements of Asian design, which provide the aesthetic without the obvious overture to a pagoda structure (it wouldn’t be French just because it is shaped like the Eiffel Tower). Maybe that makes my interpretation trite.

With any project, I think we can identify focal points. What is the eye drawn to? Our subject box has limited options: the handle, the lid, the box or the feet. Regardless of the limited options, our palette is limitless. How these parts are designed dictates the overall aesthetic. I chose to play with three of the four.

More pics are available here.

After settling on my focal design elements, I spent a great deal of time playing with dimension. I ran a Phi scale on the box dimensions (8 divided by 1.618 = 5 = 3 = 1 7/8 = 1 1/8 = ¾ = 7/16 = ¼…) and applied it to many of the elements. For instance, the feet are 1 7/8” square at their base and 7/16” wide at their top and stand ¼” proud of the box. The handle has a 13” radius curve… While the golden mean can be a great starting point for dimensions and can supposedly bring a dimensional harmony to a design, there is a certain trial and error to its application. Given more time (or a second attempt) there are some elements I would refine. For example, I feel that the feet are too strong at their top. I would have thinned the ¼” dimension or, perhaps, added a cove profile to their top. I am not 100% happy with the handle either. I feel that it dominates the lid a bit.

Let’s talk a bit about the lid and feet. (Sorry there are no process pics this time, but the scheduled deadline was too ominous.) I carved the lid with carving tools, power and hand sanding. It was a fun process, but difficult to visualize at times. The feet were roughly band sawn from a rabbeted blank and shaped with a drum sander. I ebonized the oak parts with steel wool dissolved in white vinegar.

As I mentioned in the first post of this series, I hope many of you will rise to the challenge and design your own version of our example subject. Please do! Please post your results!

By refined rustic, I am referring to a design movement at home in more than just log cabins. It incorporates live-edge and/or log as an accent. The amount of “rustic” can vary from a subtle surprise to an overt theme. I am currently enamored with live-edge materials, especially when there is a contrast between the heartwood and sapwood. Done well, a live edge imparts a wildness that appears tentatively restrained and contrasts nicely with more refined planes. The “ghost lines” of the sapwood further accentuate the form and lighten the visual weight of the project. There is a fine line, however, between pleasing and garish. Masters of this milieu, like John Gallis, effortlessly balance this contrast into pieces at home in the most elegant of settings.

This blog series is entitled “interpreting design”, so let’s look at some of my choices. The proportions are very true to the original. The box is 8”x 5” like the original, and the feet are approximately the same size. The box is slightly deeper because of the live-edged stock, and I chose to reverse the taper. The lid has a similar 25 degree bevel, but I chose to thin the edge profile to lighten the piece. The handle is an obvious departure from the original but hopefully pays homage to the form. These minor changes have created a project that is truly unique.

More photos are available here.

I mentioned that I got all of this wood from the firewood pile. I take special precautions when working with this material. Left in the round (typical log or rustic construction), moisture content is often an afterthought. If, however, I am resawing the log or limb for a project like this, I like to measure the moisture of my pieces. It is often quite high even in well-seasoned firewood. Some of you may be alarmed by my process, but I routinely bake my blanks in the oven. I set the oven at about 250 F. Every half-hour or hour, I swab all surfaces with water. My understanding is that this helps relieve case hardening by allowing water deep within the blank to move to the surface more freely and ultimately equilibrating at a consistent moisture content. Baking my blanks also has the added benefit of removing pests such as powder post beetle eggs and larvae. Nothing is more discouraging than seeing a small pile of frass underneath a completed project (voice of experience).

Rustic construction is not for the faint of heart. So much of woodworking relies on flat/ square reference surfaces, which are often lacking in rustic projects. It takes a fair bit of inventiveness to navigate some of these obstacles. I encountered a couple in this project.

First, I decided to make the feet from quartered and tapered log sections. Easy enough to do, I split the limb into rough quarters on the bandsaw, dried it in the oven, rough tapered the pieces on the bandsaw and then trued the shape on the belt sander.

The trouble arose when deciding how to attach the feet. By setting the inside edge of the tapered leg vertically, I inadvertently added to my woes. The original has a rabbet along the inside of the foot that then glues to the outside of the box. The taper was formed after the rabbet. The change in relationship between taper and rabbet forced me to taper first, which meant I needed to form a stopped rabbet along the inside corner of a 2” taped piece. Safety limits my options. I opted to stand the piece under my hollow chisel mortiser with part of the chisel buried in a sacrificial fence. A little cleanup with a hand chisel and problem solved.

The second major complication was with the lid for the box. I needed to form a rabbet on the underside and a bevel on the top side. With two live-edges, this was no easy task. I settled on a solution of double-faced taping a piece of plywood to the lid blank. Now, with known square reference surfaces, I could rabbet at the router table and bevel at the table saw.

This was a fun project. I don’t profess to know much about design, but by observing what works in other people’s projects, I am gradually improving my design vocabulary. Just letting go enough to think outside the box is a rewarding creative process.

As I mentioned in the first post of this series, I hope many of you will rise to the challenge and design your own version of our example subject. Please do! Please post your results!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about design. What makes a design original, unique, or inspiring? There are any number of “formulas” for good design. I ascribe to a few, but they certainly don’t guarantee unique results. No, what I’m pondering is what some might call a design asthetic or a design narrative. How is it that we can immediately identify a “Maloof” rocker. He wasn’t the first person to design a chair or even the first to use the California roundover, but his work definitely exudes his personal narrative. No doubt you could identify a Maloof piece from a mile away. You could probably even differentiate a Maloof original from even the most faithful reproduction. Even outside of the realm of chairs, Mr. Maloof’s tables and case pieces quietly say “Sam designed and built me”! That’s a design narrative.

I believe that all great design starts with interpretation. If we faithfully reproduce Morris chairs or Maloof rockers are we anything more than wood machinists? Sure we can learn a lot. We now understand how to form the bow arm for the Morris chair or the “dado-rabbet” leg joint for the Maloof, but it begs the follow-up question: “What do we do with this new understanding?” For most of us the answer is – build more Morris chairs or Maloof rockers.

There has to be something more. We each have a design narrative hidden deep inside. We are each inexplicably drawn to a certain aesthetic. That’s a good place to start. It may be Federal, Queen Anne, Craftsman or Contemporary. (Mine is often either Arts & Crafts or Rustic). If we challenge ourselves to look at pleasing forms and envision them through our personal aesthetic, then maybe, just maybe, we can ascend to heights unknown!

That may be a bit lofty. But here it is: THE CHALLENGE. I want to begin a dialogue. I hope to complete a series of projects and discover a bit about my own design narrative. I sure hope that some of you will follow along, join in and post your results!

For the first project, I chose a fairly simple jewelry box. This is not an original design. It was in either Wood or American Woodworker magazine several years ago. I liked it so much that I made five (with varied wood species) as gifts. The Art Deco style is pleasing, but for our purposes, I think the proportions are the important thing. It has a lightness that is pleasing and a simple elegance that I believe is universally appealing.

The challenge is to incorporate your personal design aesthetic. Re-envision this jewelry box. Make it you own but keep the proportions fairly true to the original. Design a cousin not a sibling. More pics are available here.

The original stands 5” with the lid and handle, 3 1/4” without. The box proper is 8” x 5” x 2 1/2”. The legs raise the bottom of the box 3/4” from the table.

I’m gonna start mine right now! I hope you do too! Good luck, and I’m excited to see what some of you come up with.