As a furniture maker, I spend a lot of time thinking about how people will use the furniture I design and build. It’s one of the main things I enjoy about my work. Since I’ve been living in Grand Marais this year thanks to my involvement in the Artisan Development program at North House Folk School, I’ve had the time and space to develop design ideas into objects that speak to how we use furniture in our homes and even out in places like the Boundary Waters. Does handcrafted woodworking have a place in wilderness areas? You bet!
Some obvious examples of this are hand-carved spoons and bowls, or a carved wooden canoe paddle—special items that are just fun to use. I have a wooden coffee cup I love to use on wilderness trips. It just feels nicer than plastic or metal, and if I could make a wooden Aeropress, believe me, I would. In search of a simple, lightweight stool that I could bring with me on canoeing trips, I’ve been tinkering with a folding design that marries strength and durability without adding more plastic gear to my kit. I settled on a three-legged folding stool that uses the simple woodworking techniques, tools, and materials I use to make lightweight ladderback kitchen chairs with woven seats. On its maiden voyage into the BWCAW, it performed marvelously: it fit in the canoe, strapped to my pack during portages, and gave me a place to sit while eating lunch or sketching in camp. A little luxury in the backcountry.
Design is a process of removing everything that’s unnecessary (similar to making a backcountry packing list) until you’re left with something that’s intuitive and comfortable to use. I ended up with a stool frame made from just nine small pieces of hardwood that I can shape and assemble using hand tools. The first version had a seat woven with hickory bark, which passes the toughness test, but is hard to get my hands on in Northern Minnesota. I’ve been dreaming of recycling used climbing rope as a seat material, and as luck would have it, a student in one of my woodworking classes this winter owns a climbing gym in Wisconsin. Hearing my idea, he agreed to supply me with all the rope I needed. I first had to learn to remove the core, then I used the brightly patterned outer sheathing to weave the seat just like I’ve done with natural materials. The result is a comfortable seat that can get wet, and it keeps about 60 feet of climbing rope out of the landfill.
With seating handled, now I’m turning my attention to tables with folding capabilities. I saw a few ingenious antique examples of this on a recent trip to Sweden and have been inspired to try my hand at designing what could be called “multi-purpose” or “utility” furniture—a desirable quality when trying to make the best of living in a one room log cabin in 19th century Scandinavia. Designing utility furniture that incorporates traditional joinery and a handmade aesthetic is a nod to the influence of Scandinavian woodworkers of past centuries, for whom this was normal. It’s also an act of resistance against the ubiquitous mass-produced plastic that passes for “furniture,” and a recognition that many of us feel the need to do more with less. I’ve been making a small hardwood desk that folds flat and stows against the wall, in the closet, or the truck bed. Another morphs from a comfortable bench into a handsome coffee table. Next up is a tabletop that rolls up. Maybe these won’t be as reasonable for a Boundary Waters trip, but we can use as much adaptability in our modern home furnishings as we can get.
I find satisfaction as a craftsperson when I bring a concept like a folding table from initial sketches into production. Even more satisfying is seeing that handcrafted piece of furniture collect dents and patina through its intended purpose: to bring more functionality and joy into my life year after year.
Story by Gabe Strand
Gabe Strand is a woodworking artist in the Artisan Development program at North House Folk School in Grand Marais, where traditional craft is taught on the shore of Lake Superior
