Well, whatever, I still like a box. I think it is artistic in its own right, though I know it's so very common or perhaps banal. It's ironic that trees being so full of free form shape, curves, and angularity end up as rectilinear lumber. It's because of the way we have to put it together, not just into boxes and planes, but how we actually join the material to make it hold. Stones for example are different. We can dig up random shaped stones and they surprisingly can lay nicely together in a wall in all manner of attitudes and positions, because they can naturally interlock, especially if we add mortar into the assembly. The resulting product is interesting, artistic and rarely would any two walls ever look the same. We actually can do this with wood, but the variations are far fewer and the assembly is essentially the same every time . We take trees in their natural shape and butt them to other trees and end up with a log house. Or maybe the wall to a fort to keep out the wild Indians and protect the people inside. Either assembly looks basically like a bunch of cylinders side by side.
Strange, how we take the free form tree and reduce it down in stages, and at each stage it gets more orderly and linear. From there, the process of joinery kicks in and the shape of the beginning boards makes sense as it lends itself so perfectly to linear forms, right angles, and voila, the box. The box emerges and becomes something essential to human living. When you consider the joinery, even that process lends itself more to the box with its right angles. If you stay in linear forms, but work with acute and obtuse angles, wood becomes challenging to join well, if at all. Glue surface area becomes the operative element. Glue surface area can actually increase but the complexity of the joinery will often increase as well. For example, if you introduce a compound angle to a dovetailed corner, the glued area is equal or greater, but the joint complexity increases just to maintain equal strength to its 90 degree counterpart. Picture the box above with splayed sides as opposed to the straight forward corner it has and you get the idea. Sometimes I see designs that obviously increased the complexity and difficulty of the joinery and I have to ask "to what end was that done?"....is there a real benefit in the usefulness or beauty of the piece, or is this an overly complicated joint done just to impress others and otherwise serving no real purpose. If the box above were splayed (remember Roy Underhill's tool tote in the intro to the show?) you could at least argue that design allowed for more convenient access to the usable volume of the tote, or something, making the splay have a valid purpose. But complexity for its own sake is no virtue in my way of thinking. This point may seem obtuse or irrelevant, but consider this when you build your next workbench. Function and simplicity should carry the day. I think you could honestly say that in woodworking, complexity of design breeds further complexity. The point I'm really trying to make is this: complexity for its own sake is problematic and unappealing, whereas complexity for a greater good or overall simplicity is sometimes the only answer. I think this must be what the shakers thought as they eschewed ornamentation, though their pieces on the other hand are far from simple...they only look simple. And wonderful they are or we wouldn't still be copying them yet today. Another example comes to mind to argue my point. Consider a breadboard end. We know from old pieces it is prone to failure when done the traditional way and glued end to end. The percentage of failures is too high not to say this. The design is wonderful and simple looking though and understandably desired. Here is where it takes additional complexity to avoid the traditional problems and achieve a desirable design result. We introduce a top with a more segmented and stable glue-up, then we incorporate a breadboard design that allows for the movement we get. More complex for sure, but worth the effort in its results. Incidently, I built a sofa table in clear pine in 1988, did the traditional breadboard end T&G. glued it end for end and to this day it looks fine with no rupturing in the main top and no shrinkage of the top as opposed to the ends. I think the material was very dry in the winter months when I made it and the breadboard sealed the endgrain from then on preventing moisture from re entering to any significant degree. Wood doesn't always act in the way we think it will but there is probably a good reason why. In modern times, though, I see an odd trend at work. I see joinery for its own sake. I look at dovetails outlined in dovetails and scratch my head. I can only ask "to what end?" Modern marvels of machinery and jigs make this possible, but why would anyone want that? I guess it all depends on the era you live in. i wonder if the craftsman of the day questioned the gilded pieces for kings and queens of Louis 14th, 15th et al. Odd...ornamentation for its own sake and complexity unquestioned. Well, to each his own. For my part I like understated and subtle and I think I always will. In that, I find it hard to think outside the box.
