The Minimalist Woodworker. Vic Tesolin
always physically, on the shelf and on the floor,
but in the dust bin between your ears—
that’s where it begins.
We all have the ability to walk the path less travelled.
We can choose to say no, whenever we’re ready.
We can make, instead of buy.
We can fix it, instead of re-purchasing.
Again and again, over and over.
So to the minimalist thinker, the minimalist worker,
the minimalist woodworker—
Break it all down to the basics—
breath in, breath out, one foot in front of the other.
Choose your battles.
Think long and hard before you bring something into your home
and into your life—
and don’t forget the workspace!
From the wood you use in your woodshop;
where you get it, how it’s harvested.
The tools you hold in your hands.
Even the joinery you use to hold your work together . . .
how long do you think it will last?
Does it matter?
It certainly should, for you—as the maker.
Will someone need to replace those things?
Those tools?
That bench?
Is it an improvement?
Can we do a little better?
This book will help.
minimal.
If not literally in the toolkit, then metaphorically in the spirit of the craft.
The minimalist woodworker—
I raise my glass!
“Make everyday a masterpiece.”
— Tom Fidgen,
The Unplugged Woodshop-Toronto, October 2015
INTRODUCTION
The truth about woodworking is that you don’t need a single machine or power
tool to woodwork. There, I said it. What you do need is about 40 square feet
of space for a workbench and some hand tools. That’s all you need to start making
projects out of wood. You can work with even less space if you just want to make
boxes, spoons, or other small projects but 40 square feet is a good start.
And that’s a good thing. Some of us have little room to work with. Living in
apartments, condominiums, and town homes means that we don’t necessarily have
the space for a conventional wood shop. Even roomy homes have basements and
garages that share space with cars and family overflow. The typical machines found
in stand-alone shops are not possible to use in these smaller spaces. And can you
imagine the backlash you would get from a neighbor in an apartment building if you
fired up a router and a shop vacuum?
WOODWORKING VS. WOOD MACHINING
Machines have become a mainstream staple available to almost any consumer at
many different price points. They are so ubiquitous that you can find them at home
centers. And the common belief is that they are required to woodwork.
I must admit that machines are handy, but they aren’t necessary. Machines, to my
mind, are modern-day apprentices. They do the tasks that I don’t want to do. For
example, a thickness planer speeds up the process of dimensioning lumber . . . but
I don’t need one to get the job done. Machines are also quite adept at repeating
operations, which makes them well-suited to production work. If you have to make
25 tables it makes sense to spend the time to set up a machine to cut the joinery.
But what if you are only making one table? In many cases it doesn’t make sense at
all. Most of us are not production woodworkers so why have the production tools?
I think we were lulled into the myth that power tools are more accurate than
hand tools. In some cases this may be true but machines still need to be tuned and
maintained to retain their accuracy. My question is—how accurate do you need
to be? One of the characteristics of wood is that it is always taking on and losing
water via the humidity in the air. A freshly dimensioned board can change over the
time it takes to eat lunch so why pull out the calipers and micrometers to check
dimensions? I think people feel that they can compensate for a lack of experience
by trying to work to ultra-high tolerances to ensure success. I once had a student
who was concerned when making a tabletop that one corner was thicker by 0.004"!
That is the thickness of a piece of printer paper.
The machines I choose to keep in my shop save me hours of hard labor but in
the end, I could drop them all and still be able to woodwork.
THE POWER OF THE HOBBYIST
I hear many woodworkers describe themselves as ‘only a hobbyist’ when asked
about what they do in the shop. The part I take exception with is the ‘only.’ Hobbyists
think for some reason that they aren’t as qualified as a woodworker if they are
not making money at it. I happen to think that some of the best woodworkers are
those who don’t have the pressures of running a business looming constantly over
their heads like a dark cloud. When I made furniture for a living I was constantly
stressed about finishing one job and lining up the next one in order to make ends
meet. Being a hobbyist allows you the freedom to explore new things and try new
techniques without worrying about putting food on the table. You can spend time
actually mastering skills. And if something doesn’t work out you can drill a hole in it
and call it a birdhouse.
About three years ago I started experimenting with axes—not juggling them while
they’re on fire but using them as a way to remove material quickly. It took some time to
learn how to sharpen and use axes but after some blood (literally) and sweat I worked
it out. Now I use axes quite often in my shop. The point is, I would not have had the