Side table

Are they called rectory tables. This one was cool. In a dark oak it had an arts and crafts feel to it. Maybe 10 feet long but only maybe 720mm wide it meant any side drawers would have to be not too deep. Losing a little from the overhang of the top a central structural rail meant they were restricted further. I discussed having alternative side drawers but not pleased with the asymmetrical look a sacrifice in function had to be made to preserve the look. Very shallow drawers too but they were only for cutlery and odds and ends. In one I made a drop in lining to form orderly divisions. A shallow but long drawer is the toughest to get to run smoothly; physics just isn't on your side. I overcame this by creating a double central concealed runners that stood underneath the drawers to prevent any annoying snagging that is common in long, shallow drawers. Again the stretchers weren't my ideal. I'd have gone for a simple version of the Barnsley hay rake structure that delivers an intuitive feel of security as all but the most inobservant people subconsciously succumb to the persuasion of. Our designers trade mark stretcher structure was indeed his own but there are reasons why designers have steered clear of this innovative triangular wheel. But in this context. A smaller side table or narrow kitchen main table would be perfectly strong and robust enough with no stretcher rails at all so we can forgive our designers shortcomings on this occasion. The legs were beautifully turned by Marley Wellings, a great designer in his own right who ended up knee high in shavings and dust each day because he was a great wood turner. Put the four legs together and even your vernier callipers struggle to find a difference. A remarkable craftsman. There were some decorative deceptions to make the side rails appear to run through the legs top but in truth these were appendages. The top was perhaps 22mm thick with breadboard ends. Another feature our designer was fond of and, to be fair they give a grounding fullstop. Table ends here. I made several of these but this was the first.
Now we come on to the chairs. Unforgivable was the verdict of my good friend Gareth. Indeed he was right. I was provided with silhouette paper templates of the designer and his wife's profiles. These I carefully bandsawed out they formed the backsplats for the two carvers. The chair was copied largely from a piece of vernacular furniture of French origin. It lacked some delicacy that might have been found on an English made chair of the arts and crafts movement though this was about 400 years old. The arms were tricky. Compound curves in free space are tricky but making its mirrored other hand takes a lot of free eye work with little to no datum to work off. The uprests hit under neath the palm hold of the arm and are secured with a split wedged dowel head. Otherwise pretty straightforward. But imposing your profile on the world on the back of your chair spews out an unnecessary pompous attitude that as Gareth accurately described as unforgivable.
In truth designers very rarely design pieces of furniture. Some do having spent time at the bench and still make the judgments one has to make by the myriad on a daily basis and quickly for the design to be commercially viable. But on the whole they do a drawing, a kind of styling. From here the maker picks up the baton and designs his or her way through all the problems and creates the reality with their hands. Usually there is some variation in opinion and the maker has to bring home the idiocy of what the designer sees as their free expression. And if you are looking to make this type of furniture where you genuinely are stood on the shoulders of giants it is important to recognise their wisdom as the giants speak, imparting their wisdom.