The Writer's Cabinet
What is it about wood that captivates us? Modern materials abound, yet so often we return to wood when seeking a 'certain something' in our furniture. Certainly the life found in a board of timber draws in many - the grain, the colours, that close feel to the natural world. Perhaps others are drawn towards a well-made piece of furniture for that sense of investment - something that will last for generations, developing in character as time goes on. I wanted my first piece to be a place where I could explore these ideas.
The best thing about really good cabinets is how tactile they are. An abundance of places to keep things, doors that give a positive 'click' when open and shut, drawers that smell fragrant when opened and give a little puff of air when push closed. The best cabinetry first invites a sensory experience, and later an imaginative one. Where could this go in my house? What could I keep in here?
Starting the design process with a blank page, I knew I wanted to design a little solid-wood cabinet based around a bureau. Small enough to sit on a side table, it was made for holding all kinds of stationery and to celebrate the art of letter writing. It would be quite a traditional piece. However, traditional woodwork can have a tendency of being heavy and somewhat sombre, which is not what I wanted, so I worked to push all aspects of the design to create a piece that was light and delicate. Designing components to be as slim as possible gave a sense of balance and lightness. A subtle tapering of the sides removed yet more of the visual weight, and gentle curves added an elegant decoration. Using a lighter, contrasting wood added a desirable brightness to the piece, with the intended outcome being a treasure-chest effect: the transformation of the piece from dark and formal when closed, into one which was bright and radiant when the doors were opened up.
Once I had a basic design in place, I turned to the wood. A few months back, I found a wonderful board of English Walnut in a local timber merchants. It had areas of wavy grain and areas of straight. There were areas where the grain swirled around a little knot, and areas where the grain had an incredible feature that looked like flames or wings. At the time I wasn't sure what I would do with it, but there was so much going on in the board that I just HAD to buy it. When the time came to make this little cabinet I knew that this board would be perfect, so I tweaked my design to ensure the dimensions fitted the board for each aspect to be celebrated.
From the outside it is rather plain, but this is intentional. I really wished to draw the eye solely towards the wood. I used the stunning flame-grain section for the sides,and a 'book-matched' section of wavy grain in the door panels. The doors are fitted precisely, with a consistent 0.5mm gap around all sides of the doors and the panels. The top of the cabinet is slightly concave. I spent ages thinking about handles, but decided that anything I added to the outside served only to detract from the elegance of the wood. Instead I cut two little recessed-handles on the insides of the doors, and filled the exposed mortice holes with a feature-piece of sycamore.
Opening up the cabinet, there is a traditionally made drawer, a removable-pencil box, and plenty of shelves for notepaper and envelopes. The sycamore components do their job of adding a welcome brightness, and the cedar-bottoms of the drawer and the box give a sweet, perfumed-honey scent to the whole cabinet. The whole piece is finished inside and out with French polish, which gives not just a shine, but draws out a depth to the colour from the wood. Oh, and somewhere there is a secret compartment, but don't tell anyone...
The world of furniture is vast, and this first piece is my very first tentative step. However, I am pleased with the outcome - both as a project to develop my skills, and as a piece that stands on its own, without explanation. Working with the wood throughout the piece, I felt drawn to use it in certain ways and not in others. Perhaps the need for this quiet listening ear when meeting a piece is part of what captivates us?
-sh