Mistakes are stories – FineWoodworking

There is a sentiment that most woodworkers keep in mind. For some, it’s good advice to follow whenever possible, but for others, it’s a rule that can’t be broken. Then there are those who seem to completely ignore the idea. We woodworkers are quick to point out mistakes to anyone looking at our latest project. Of course, this is a defense mechanism, a quick self-deprecation aimed at outright beating others. These are usually the little things that would never be mentioned if we didn’t have a big notion of perfection, but there are other kinds of mistakes that we talk about. It’s the kind that takes effort and cunning to overcome and makes our mistakes. War story. In addition to accumulating several of these stories to myself over the years, I’ve also read quite a few from tool marks and irregularities left on antique furniture. Mistakes are what drives the story, or at least MacGuffin, to move our woodworking story forward. This is mine and from the 18th century.

Assuming a disaster

I’m building an intricate library table with writing drawers copied from an antique in the Colonial Williamsburg collection (see original here). Because the writing drawer rests on its own legs while open, a traditional dovetail drawer box requires several tenons in the front to fit into the leg mortises. As I was taking everything apart after the final dry fit before gluing, the following thought came to my mind. “This whole assembly sits precariously on the bench, and you might want to reposition it after the next mallet hit.” was slammed into the floor and hit one of the tenons and was torn in two, but miraculously there was no other major damage.

I usually work in front of people, so I swallowed the four-character idiom that came out on the tip of my tongue and pretended to be calm. A broken tenon can be replaced by making a sliding tenon, so I did. I sawed along the vertical line of the pencil in the picture, removed all the jagged edges, and carefully drilled and mortised the grain of the edge where the new tenon needed to go. By making this pocket 1 inch from the dovetail socket’s baseline and a quarter inch below him, I ensured enough adhesive surface to create a joint as strong as the original. Cutting the end grain mortise by hand is no fun, but a little extra work saved me more work and wasted material. It also gave me a story to share with others in a similar position.

story of the past

That’s enough. It’s easy to tell other people’s failure stories without knowing all the details.This is a mahogany bureau table (also Colonial Williamsburg) was made in Peter Scott’s Williamsburg store in the mid-18th century.

scott I made some of these rustic yet fashionable pieces. Among them is a pair for Martha and her Custis, who George brought into her marriage to Washington. Typical of fine period pieces, the interior reveals crude and efficient craftsmanship in contrast to the sophisticated exterior. In the photo below, another one is also revealed. A series of dados are cut into the side of the case and then backfilled (both sides like this).

Are we seeing someone’s layout mistakes forever preserved in mahogany? Perhaps, but the real story is recovery, not error. Scott’s employees knew no one was going to look inside, so they were able to bury Dado and move on. This is a good move, especially considering that the sludad (which is much faster to cut by hand than the stopped one) is covered with a thin strip applied to the front edge of the case (which has been replaced in antique ).

Did the same craftsman who made the mistake also fix it? We will never know, but we do know that Scott did not work alone.of 1755 newspaper advertisement Scott announced his plans to return to England (which he never left) and advertised two slaves for sale who had been “raised to work as cabinetmakers”. The language is vulgar, but it tells the story of how these skilled black cabinetmakers were probably part of the story of the Bureau’s table. Beyond that, only questions remain. Were they behind the mistake, did they fix it, or both? What were the consequences of the mistake, other than lost time? That’s a difficult question to ponder.

Mistakes left tell a story about people, not just furniture. As fellow woodworkers, we recognize ourselves in the tragedies and triumphs of mistakes and their corrections. Some of these stories are stories we want to tell, and some stories we’ve been running away from for too long.

More from Bill Pavlack

	I am a very good furniture maker. Wiltshire worked in a furniture store owned by Anthony Hay, and as well as the building in which he worked, the “very good cabinetmaker” was Hay’s property.
	Useless knots, desired knots There is a sentiment that most woodworkers keep in mind. For some, it’s good advice to follow whenever possible, but for others, it’s a rule that can’t be broken. And some seem to ignore the idea entirely.
	survival of the most beautiful The worst thing you can do when copying an antique is to actually copy it.