The Next Wave

Furnituremaking is not a career for the faint of heart. It promises long hours, little limelight, and only a trickle of compensation. In contrast to the freewheeling fine artist, whose only allegiance is to aesthetics, the furnituremaker operates in a world of strict constraints. The table must fit between the radiator and the window. It must be deep enough to hold the atlas. It may look delicate, but it better be strong enough to be sat upon on occasion. Its finish must reveal the grain and repel water. Its joints must fit tight and hold up over time; its drawers must run smoothly, its knobs feel good to the fingertips. In the chair, the angle between the seat and back that delights the eye had better gratify the lumbar as well. Meeting all these demands requires expertise in tools, materials, engineering, ergonomics, and, not least, aesthetics.

So although furniture, like sculpture, is a three-dimensional forum for self-expression, the constraints of the craft make designing a piece of furniture more akin to designing a car than a piece of sculpture: no matter the wow factor, if the piece won’t get the user from here to there reliably in comfort, you’re going to hear about it. In short, a successful piece of furniture is a small miracle, a triumph of negotiation between the competing interests of use, durability, appearance, affordability and authorial ego.