CStanford":18jgxk71 said:
I'll never be fast enough
I read your post about a 20 hour table build. Not fast? You're the Tokyo Bullet Train of the woodworking world!
In fact following your post I was motivated to get the price book you referenced and compare it with a number of old British price books (they all paint the same picture by the way...supersonic build speeds. There's something a bit odd going on there that's worthy of further investigation. Maybe apprentice labour wasn't explicitly declared but actually delivered much of the grunt work? Who knows, but many of those price book timings just don't add up.)
It's interesting, whenever I hear one professional craftsman talk about another it's only a matter of time before the whole speed thing comes up. A professional is nearly always benchmarked by how fast they are, and it's rare to meet the craftsman who is satisfied with how fast he builds.
The workshop where I trained drummed the
need for speed mantra into you every day. As you worked your way through the apprentice pieces, you made every piece once to reach the required
standard, then again to reach the required
speed. And the quality standard was always a lot easier to achieve than the speed standard!
I've always been a bit sceptical of this approach. To me it's like the folk stories about man versus machine. The American railway worker competing against a powered spike driver, or the Cornish Tin Miner competing against a steam shovel. The thing that's crucial in all those stories is that the man always wins...but then drops down dead from exhaustion. I've never found that a very inspiring message.
In furniture making I think it reflects some deep rooted belief that if the maker was only a bit quicker then they could compete with factory made furniture.
Never going to happen. Indeed the moment the situation is even framed in price/speed terms then we've already lost the battle.
The best analogy I can think of is Saville Row tailoring. If you buy a striped shirt in Saville Row or Jermyn Street the stripes on the yoke will line up with the stripes on the arms. Yes, the buttons are a bit nicer and it's south sea cotton, but basically it's all about the stripes. And in London's financial district there's a secret club, it's formed of those people whose stripes line up. It's like MCC ties, they recognise one another from fifty paces.
When I'm talking to a prospective client I talk in the same language a Saville Row tailor or a Jermyn Street shirtmaker uses with a new client. I show them what ultra thin drawer sides and drawer slips actually look like. I invite them to experience the smell of Cedar of Lebanon or Camphor Wood drawer bottoms. I illustrate the difference between a top made from carefully matched, sequential boards, versus one made using boards in whatever order they happen to arrive. And I basically spell it out that even though none of this adds much to the practical utility of a piece, they do make it an altogether more pleasant thing to live with. I'll sometimes toss in the old phrase about the only furniture worth owning is that which you've inherited, and imply they're laying down a legacy for their children and grandchildren.
Hey, I'm as impoverished as the next maker. But I'm clear in my mind that shaving build times by 10% isn't the solution, because even if I do I'll immediately drop down dead!