Seeing Wood
Full and unabridged musings on trees from our May print zine.
We know, we know, I love print. Against all reasonability; just so stubborn. But, even I can admit, sometimes when things are in print, you run out of space, and you don’t get to publish the full story.
So today! I am taking the opportunity to s-t-r-e-t-c-h out in this, the digital space, to bring you the full and unabridged musings on wood from the May print edition of Treehouse.
For those without a paid subscription, allow me to fill you in. The May issue features the work and reflections of artist and designer Gregory Beson. Gregory teaches product and industrial design at Parsons and has a really beautiful personal practice as well. All (or, most) of his work is in wood. For this issue, Gregory went to his preferred lumber yard, Singh Hardwood in Rockaway, New York, took some stunning photos, then sent through something like a philosophy on working with wood. Furniture, photography, musings—all of it just so, so beautiful.
Me, the ruthless, heartless editor in print had to cut a lot of it down to fit into the paltry six pages on offer. Me, the freewheeling, chatty digital editor can now offer the full text below, along with imagery.
Seeing Wood by Gregory Beson
ENERGY
“Fire is the sun unwinding from the tree’s log.”
-Buckminster Fuller
When discussing wood and natural materials we can begin with energy. In our world, in this time, it can be easy to forget what the true cost is to build the material world around us. Both human labor—mental, spiritual, physical—as well as the means by which materials grow, erode, or procreate should be considered. There is a synergy to be found in natural materials such as wood, which I believe is more easily understood than those artificially derived.
KNOWING & SEEING
Trees and their lumber are often not understood by the layperson. Our connection to and intuitive knowledge of timber has waned as less is made by hand and consumerism grows. Physical properties, material semantics, and historical context are all embodied in each individual species; both in the raw unprocessed state (a tree) or the aesthetic or functional object (sculpture or furniture). This information, this embedded story, is available to each of us. Eastern White Cedar shingles used by current and early New Englanders were directly derived from Native canoe-building practices which utilized the naturally rot resistant, readily available, and easily tooled local Cedar to create durable and rot resistant vessels. Countless examples such as this one can be found historically where noticing and understanding inherent properties of materiality leads to new opportunities.
“We only see what we look at. To look is an act of choice.”
- John Berger
Much of the world is knowable. Looking is the first step. With wood (and many other things) there are a few qualities to assist one in seeing better. The diagram attached, adapted from George Nakashima in his book The Soul of a Tree, illustrates the varied ways a log is sawn into timber. The big walnut slabs he utilized were cut “through and through,” which means repeated parallel slices or “cutting from the boule.” He speaks intuitively of knowing where to saw a log to reveal the most spectacular and beautiful motifs in the grain. The way he writes about this, it seems he could see inside the tree before it was cut. His eyes could penetrate and imagine the slab.
Often, people tell me they are unsure what is real wood and what is not. The knowledge has not been passed along as it was before, there is a break in the line. This is exacerbated by so many lookalikes, slights of hand, and deceptive tactics used to make other materials appear like wood on the surface. But we can seek the core, the depth, and the root by looking and asking questions.
Inherently, I think we all know or are capable of knowing. When we walk upon solid wood boards or are surrounded by planks and wall cladding. Consider a rustic cabin in the woods; the tonality of the light, the smell, the sound within the space, warm and whole. When our furniture or spaces are crafted from beautiful parts of a tree, these second lives resonate. We intuitively feel them if we allow their presence to permeate our senses. We understand their individuality and relation to both the constructed environment and the natural world.
If you’ve ever seen arts and crafts furniture (Stickley) or Frank Lloyd Wright solid wood pieces (Francis W. Little House at the Met) you’ll notice a grain patterning in the white oak that is very different from the floorboards often seen in homes. These are quarter sawn boards and produce a straight grain with some “flecking.” This can look like shimmering abstract motifs quite different from the straight grain surrounding it. But it is the end grain that really gives this method of sawing away. The growth rings create lines running perpendicular to the width of the board and yields wood that maintains its straightness. This is durable and strong timber. The drawback is that this sawing process wastes material, takes longer, and therefore is more expensive.
Next time you sit at a table take a moment to notice the grain; focus on the ends. This can be a clear way to know what you have in front of you. Can you see repeating curves? If so, you’re seeing a part of the growth ring of the tree. From this you could ascertain approximately where in the tree the “stick” (piece of lumber) came from. Also consider the hue of the material, the figuring (how the grain looks on the surface) and if there are many boards or a single which constitutes the table. A repeating pattern of grain probably means veneer on a substrate (logs cut in sequence) and can feel almost mathematical rather than organic. Perhaps the table top appears to be one solid board with wildly expressive figuring. If so, you might be dealing with rotary cut maple or birch; thin layers of wood peeled like an apple by a giant lathe at a mill. If in doubt, give it a knock. Does it remind you of the sensation and sound of knocking on an old wooden door? Of walking barefoot on a dock or sitting at a picnic table? It just might be solid then. You can probably tell if you keep looking.
CHOOSING AND WORKING WITH TENDERNESS
When choosing timber there is a continual back and forth as you arrange, carve or lay out boards, slabs, or chunks. I select all of my wood from yards individually. Over time, with practice, I have come to be able to “see through,” lumber in the rough (most of the photos accompanying this essay). I’m looking to see color and hue, grain motif, where in the tree it was cut from, dimension, and also straightness. For example, when looking, I’m trying to ascertain how this tree grew; did it twist over the years? If so, the memory of those cells remains and the tooling process will be more difficult and perhaps result in lost material. All depends on the project and the potential beauty of the board. If necessary, I’ll work it as much as needed with joy and care. There is a certain kind of tenderness required in this work. You are in fact giving the tree a second life through thoughtful intentional labor.
I only work with solid wood. This choice is about function, aesthetics, holistic methodology, and sustainability. It is also about poetics and my own innate nature; I’m drawn to this material, its warmth, its groundedness. I strive to honor it, so it may last well beyond my own lifetime. Solid wood uplifts me, nourishes me, expands me. This is the conversation between wood and craftsperson. Wood pieces can make a home feel more like your home, they accept time, encapsulate use, and embody the memory in their cells. They grow with you and yours.
I feel a great responsibility to honor each part of the tree I work with. In this way I aim to make looking easier. Hoping that through care and consideration one may more easily sense the resonance of this natural material and choose to welcome them into their home and life.
Listings
Reader submission! Rachel and Karl, currently of Portland, Oregon, are relocating to Maine and, as such, are seeking a 2BR home in Midcoast. From Rachel, “We are flexible and go with the flow people, so we are interested in plenty of possibilities for what housing could be! Even doing a trade for some rent for childcare could be an option! Who knows? I feel confident something is out there for us!” Help ‘em out, pals! (LINK)
I got the fall/winter semester catalog from Yestermorrow in the mail this week, which reminds me to tell you that they are currently enrolling for that season. Go get it! Build things! (LINK)
Walt Disney’s home in Los Feliz is for rent for a cool $40k/month. (LINK)
And because I can’t leave you without something a little bonkers for-purchase: Here’s a stationary bicycle from the 80s. She’s pretty! (LINK)
Do you have an announcement or an ask or something to promote or something to tell this community about? You, too, can post a listing here (within reason and my own person scrutiny)—just hit reply and we’ll figure it out.
Notes
Remember a few weeks ago, when I said “I’ll be out of town, but it’s all good, I’m going to work on the plane”? Fool that I am, fool that I knew I would be, traveling and end-of-school and not-a-lot-of-childcare was not as breezy for putting together a zine as I thought it would be. We are, however, chugging now, and I am happy to report that today, June 22nd, the June edition of Treehouse is very nearly complete. I’m looking forward to sharing more of the details with you soon—it’s a good one! (I am biased?) 💝