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When a small corner of the world is shaped precisely as we
wish, a magical feeling happens—a feeling of enchantment.
This is the feeling I get each time I build a piece of furniture
using the miscellaneous bits of architectural salvage that
I feature in my designs. I find myself enchanted by both the
process and the end result.
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This less-than-beautiful architectural find is
transformed into an attractive table. |
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In
my shop, old doors, windows and hardware are staples. Let
me explain. After deciding it was time to do something that
I had always been interested in, but of which I had little
experience or knowledge, I enrolled in a heritage carpentry
program at a local college. I intended to work at restoring
some of the lovely old properties in Ottawa, Ontario, where
I live. Maybe that was a little naïve considering the
amount of work it entailed, so I scaled my aspirations down
a bit. I turned my attention to salvaging and using the doors
and windows from vintage buildings, which hold a special appeal
to me. I appreciate the craftsmanship of each piece. There
is something romantic about the old-time carpenter toiling
with hand tools and fitting each door and window without the
aid of modern conveniences such as air nailers and power miter
saws. Doors were of any and every size, whether they were
little cellar doors or grand old entrance doors. Nails were
crude by today's standards, and the only screws around were
those frustrating slot-heads. As glass was usually mail ordered
in the 1800s, windows were smaller and, depending on the technique
used in its manufacture, a lot of the glass was either wavy
or bubbly. I consider these imperfections to be character-defining
elements and try to incorporate them into my designs. Also,
I have been a recycler from way back, so what better way to
incorporate my environmental awareness with my newfound woodworking
ability?
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