You Deserve REAL Furniture

01.06.22 OPERATING A SMALL FURNITURE BUSINESS

“Do what you love and you won’t work a single day in your life…”

This popular statement has been uttered so many times it was long ago tarred and feathered with the contemptible word “cliche.” Which is a fancy word for “worn-out,” “overused,” or “overexpressed.” The reason for this overindulgence in a phrase is that it is true, very true. But it’s not the whole truth.

As someone who once aspired to be a professional writer, artist and musician, I heard this phrase many, many times in my various circles. Selflessness is not so much a badge of honor as it is a way of life, or a way of the world. You get accustomed (especially as a musician) to weeks or months of rehearsals, equipment purchases and spent evenings in the hopes of one day bringing your art to the world. You’ll work for years to do this, and many do. Essentially for free. Even the small token of appreciation, the meager cut of the door cover every night, goes right back into the art - funding things like flyers, broken strings, drum sticks and gas money (if you’re lucky there’s a bit leftover for some paltry fast food). This type of life is certainly not for everyone. Spiritually, it’s invigorating and uplifting. Materially, it can be unhealthy and downright dangerous. For this reason it’s imperative you supplement your existence in the “real world” with the dreaded Day Job. And thus, you balance your passion and creativity with that which must be done (search Webster’s for “Responsibility”).

I have come to find so many similarities between running a band and running a small business. Especially one such as this - a custom furniture company. On the one side you have the creative nature of building objects with your hands, solving problems and marveling at the beauty of nature you are taking part in, as well as delivering that beauty to others and seeing their face light up at something so simple, yet so remarkable. The other side of that coin is that you have to charge them for it and summarily pay for all the resources involved. What used to be funds for flyers, strings, sticks and gas becomes funds for rent, insurance, materials and taxes (if you’re lucky there’s a bit leftover, once again, for food). You can begin to see the similarity.

I started this adventure, some 6 years ago with the artist’s mindset. I sold my first dining room table for $400. I had no idea what it should cost. For the first couple years I marveled that someone would pay for my services and humbly requested the miniscule compensation I received. And I was perfectly happy to do so! I wasn’t bitter or upset as I had no point of reference. I pondered over pricing incessantly. What was this stuff worth? What was my value worth? There’s no books on this, no roadmap. The only people that might offer insight into pricing would be competing in the same field, and for this reason not so likely to share their strategy in this regard. Prices for custom furniture can vary widely, even in the same city. Comparisons are difficult for makers and buyers. What makes a cabinet from Walmart so much cheaper than what can be built locally by hand? And why would someone want to pay the difference? The answers aren’t obvious and the whole custom-built process can be understandably daunting for builder and client alike. There’s so much trust involved in such a complicated purchase, you can’t help but form relationships (hopefully good ones) going through the process.

All this to say that it’s not altogether uncommon to find makers, artists, creators and the like soon come face to face where their “happy place” meets the real world. We got into this out of our love of our creations, not the love of money. However it soon becomes clear that one must adopt new skills, new education and often an entire paradigm shift, a different way of viewing the world, to continue to do what they love to do. This can oftentimes be the breaking point for some who just want to create and want nothing to do with the business side of things.

Talent does not necessarily equal success. Operating a shop, dealing with the state and federal government, procuring expensive machines and tools, designing systems and procedures as well as many other tasks that befall your typical small business owner are not necessarily your typical artists’ “Walk in the Park.” It can be an exhausting life where it’s not enough to just make beautiful objects during the day, you have to put on the hat of a business owner at night. “Free time” becomes a word less uttered and a distant memory in some cases, as there’s always work to be done with not enough time to do it.

When I’m in the shop, surrounded by tools and slabs of local hardwood with the sweet smell of sawdust in the air, I’m certainly not working a day in the life. But to do just that, and to get to that point requires quite a bit of work. Perhaps the phrase should be changed to: “If you do what you love, you’ll work even harder every day of your life. But it will always be worth it.”

05.12.21 delivering custom pieces and moving heavy things

One of my favorite days is delivery day. Not the tenuous and possibly stress filled days leading up to it, but the day it actually happens, when all of the planning and guesswork comes together and it’s time to bring this new creation home.

Funny enough, delivery day is considered from day one. If you’ve ever had to move a heavy object, such as a sofa, up a staircase or through a tight doorway only to get it there and have it not fit then you know what I’m talking about. Commonly called “the relationship test,” moving heavy things is a dance as it involves other people and a lot of non-verbal communication (usually expletives and grunts). And although our advanced ape brains are great at visualizing how something might fit two dimensionally, that third dimension really seems to baffle. “It should fit! Why is it not fitting!” With aching muscles and sweat running down your face, the complexity of this conundrum is exponentially compounded. I’m sure there’s a metric out there. Weight of object + # of Stairs + Tight Turns squared = Difficulty.

It’s for this reason that delivery day is in the builder’s mind at the onset of planning. Or it should be. One of the first questions I ask is, “What floor do you live on?” The next are, “Do you have an elevator and how big is it?” It’s possible you might have to mock one up if the tolerances are that close. Not only are the inside dimensions a factor, but the doorway itself comes into play. As do doorways in a typical home.

Not surprisingly, most homeowners have already figured it out for you if you just ask them. Afterall, they have had to move objects in and out of their home many times, and will woefully recall their own particular battles and victories during such endeavors. They generally will already have it in their head how this wonderful new addition will enter their home, which direction and path best suited.

Indeed all of these questions can be asked at the onset of the design, as they should be, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you get answers right away. When a piece is particularly large or unwieldy there can be weeks of thought on how to best execute the move. Keep in mind, this object is something you’ve spent weeks working on. It’s been birthed, there’s a love there. After the first coat of finish goes on you’re in protection mode, aware of this pristine surface that might as well be a thin sheet of glass in your workshop. So when deciding how to best transport this work of love not only are there weight and maneuvering decisions but also how to protect every finished surface during the journey.

And let’s be honest, when it comes to the moving of heavy things, almost everyone has an opinion. Many men make sport of such conversations, as it can be thrilling to discover the trick to it all, the best solution. I’m sure some women do as well, but in my experience it’s really been men that get excited about this thrill of the hunt. If I’ve got a large piece in my shop as it’s being created that’s generally the first question out of their mouth. “Howya gonna move that?” They may wait for you to answer before they tell you how to do it, they may not!

So when Delivery Day arrives, “the best solution” gets its trial. All of the planning, speculation, and endless decisions come down to that final test. Can it get there? Does it fit? It could be the most amazing creation you’ve ever seen, but it becomes something much different if it doesn’t meet the main criteria. When it goes well, when you’ve seen in advance all of the potential pitfalls and avoided them, when your team moves like a trained ballet taking the utmost care of not only the creation itself but also the home around it, delivery day is smooth and exciting. The creation is home and in context at last, and all is well.

04.05.21 a connection with reality

As someone who spends his typical day head down in a shop cutting, shaping, grinding and finishing, I often ponder what drives the folks who contact me to make things. It may seem like a tenuous preoccupation filled with unfounded suppositions, but after a few years of working directly with individuals and forming some long-lasting bonds I’ve become a bit obsessed with the struggle often encountered when folks try to get something custom made locally. Daunting might begin to describe the beginning of this journey, to say the least. Where do you begin? Does anyone make anything anymore? Should I just go to IKEA?

Now, firstly it should be made clear I’m not knocking IKEA. What they have done design-wise is extremely impressive. But is this not some of the questions people ask themselves when first typing into a search engine? And even if you do find a site, perhaps not unlike this one you’re currently visiting, do they do what you’re looking for? And how much does it cost? Cause let’s be honest here, the first part of an endeavor like this is to quickly weed out options so you can narrow a search, and most times you can’t even get started without some lengthy email exchange.

All that being said, when someone contacts me, especially early on in my business, they’ve figuratively been in the jungle with a machete, hacking a path to what they hope will be a clearing. True adventurers, by the time we’re meeting face to face, they’ve gone into battle for their solution. It’s truly inspiring and I’m always interested in their journey to our common place together; oftentimes I ask about pitfalls along the way and am shocked about past horror stories. Work left undone, terrible communication, bad service, and sometimes even damage to property. Yet somehow it’s unsurprising. Afterall, most trades people like me aren’t business people. They’re people who know how to do things, how to fix things, how to create things. Most of us started off with the misguided idea that all you needed to know was how to work. The last thing on your mind is what somewhat else is dealing with when they’re standing in front of you. And when you work for a company, you have their procedures and protocols to follow, their “system,” whatever it may be. That’s your fallback.

So it seems against all odds that anyone would want to deal with custom makers and the annoyances and uncertainty that comes along with it. And yet there’s this passion, this mission to go down this road for certain individuals. Why do you think Pinterest is so popular? Or farmer’s markets? There seems to be this adventure in seeking out the novel, the creative. Someone pulling out of the ether an idea that we all know but weren’t able to place it in the material world in such a way. Not to disregard the mere function of such things, especially furniture. But I believe that to be the very beginning, and in the end perhaps the least important aspect of a project.

No, in the end it seems as though we’re all seeking a connection. A connection with the past. A connection with creativity and passion. A connection with reality. Because we live in a material world, we gain a connection with those materials and seek to collect them, incorporating them into our everyday lives. In return, their humble being connects us back to work, history, humankind, and reality.

And as unfortunately pretentious as this all sounds, I don’t claim to know what drives every individual to seek out those creative makers out there in the world, as I believe it’s a bit of a moving target and everyone is different. But there does seem to be an underlying resonance with the handmade that we all feel. A human-ness. Whatever it is, I’m excited for the many future conversations with you about your story. And your connection.

02.18.21 on working with wood and metal

Although I learned a bit about welding in high school, back when they had shop classes like that, I came from a primarily woodworker background. My father was an extremely talented woodworker, but this skill could often times be overshadowed by how good he was at all of his many hobbies. He also downplayed it, as his father did before him. Making things out of wood for your home or for gifts was just what you did. My brother, Jeremy Hess, is also a master carpenter who has indeed and long since surpassed my fathers skill level, as he has made woodworking his livelihood for decades. Most of my training has come from him, as he was my boss and mentor at many cabinet shops over the years.

As I honed my woodwork skills throughout different shops, side jobs, and construction sites, I yearned to revisit the metal side of things. It was like one of those bucket-list items that I thought I’d never check off. The initial investment is significant; it’s tough to go into it lightly. It’s also loud and somewhat dangerous. So there was indeed some reticence.

But, as fate and my good friend Ben would have it, the day came when he allowed me to “run a few beads” using his MIG welder. And it all came rushing back. Ahhhh, I thought. I remember this…..

Then began the arduous task of developing a skill. Just like any trade, the skill is in the hours applied. The tricks and techniques. Basically you have to make every mistake possible, sometimes twice. The bigger the mistake, the more hours spent fixing something, the better the lesson learned. There’s no shortcut to this (pun intended). You have to put in the hours.

Not to mention woodworking the metalworking are almost different worlds. Working with wood, for one, is a subtractive process. You always start with something bigger than you need and you wittle it down to it’s finished proportion. Metal, on the other hand, is additive. You start small and put something together out of pieces. So it’s a slightly different mindset. Both materials are pleasurable to work with while having their own unique challenges. Wood is unpredictable, living, changing. When you build something with wood, you have to think about it 10 years from now with all of the seasonal movement in mind. It will bend and twist as you are working it, imperfections appear in the layers. Metal is straight and stable, but when you apply heat it bends as moves as well. It has to be tamed in a much different way, but the results seem instantaneous to us woodworkers whom usually have to shut the lights off while the glue dries.

While I’m reluctant to apply titles to myself, such as “woodworker” or “metalworker,” as I feel I have so much to learn in both regards, I do love working with both of these materials simultaneously. Wood is so elegant, seductive and warm. Metal is so cool, stoic and strong. Together they can truly create a remarkable balance.

01.21.21 chaos into order

As I walked around the large table top, tightening the last few clamps and inspecting every square inch with my scanning eyes, I realized that this was one of my very favorite parts of this process of table building. Where it starts, and where it ends are entirely different matters.

Preferably, I begin at the log. Milling wood is such a therapy. Part workout, part treasure hunt, and part hoarding. It is hard work, especially if you don’t have heavy equipment. The treasure is apparent while pulling the boards off, clearing away the dust and marveling at the grain. It’s wet when you cut it, so it’s your first glimpse into what the final look of this wood might be when finish is applied. Then you stack it up, with others of equal or greater potential on top and around it. You say goodbye for awhile, for it’ll be years before these slabs are air dried.

During the process of drying all boards grow a dark “patina,” almost a fuzz of sorts. This is typically the state of the slabs when we begin the work, which involves taking this raw material through a process designed to render it functional as well as emphasize it’s inherent beauty. The overall size of the top is foundational, a detail we determine with our clients very early on. From there it’s a process of picking out the individual slabs and putting them together coherently. There’s a bit of art in this, as well. It takes a bit of practice and vision to really see what this will end up looking like and which parts of the boards to highlight.

Then the real fun begins. You begin to work the material into its final shape, slowly cutting and trimming away the high spots, working out the twists, straightening the edges where they will be glued together. The grain emerges. Slowly and laboriously it takes shape, until at some point you lay all of the planks side-by-side, in their final layup, checking with a tape the final size, examining every seam for any slight imperfection, and you deem it ready to glue up.

The glue up is just another balancing act of applying pressure evenly and firmly, done as a whole. It is not until the clamps are set, however, that you get to take in the new creation. It’s the same moment that final coat of paint is on the wall, when that last pile of leaves is picked up, or even when that sink full of dishes is done. Where once there was chaos, an order has been created, and that is undeniably a human satisfaction.

12.28.20 A year in review

To those of you who wish to know, I’m pretty much a one-man-show around here. Like most small business owners in this country, I get to wear all the hats, which nobody really tells you when you decide to venture off on your own. Fast or slow, the reality sets in for all that care to go in business for themselves that they’ve really got to be more than one person to do it all. Especially as the workload increases, which is this year in a nutshell.

It started with a major install at the Burger Stand in downtown Lawrence, KS. I had already renovated their basement bar a year past, and I was very familiar with the time limitations of closing down this very busy establishment. All of the parts had to be pre-fabbed and ready to install as we had merely days to get it all done during what was to be a very busy KU basketball schedule. The bar and partition wall have a steel structure, exterior ply and blackened steel cladding, and hardmaple tops. We had plans for the tables and booths that may come to pass at a later time.

The early spring kept me swamped with many custom projects; cabinets, floating shelves, island tops and even a church podium were produced. It was a varied and busy spring.

In the very first days of the government restrictions in March, I was actually meeting with a couple that had just signed a long-term lease on a downtown space. It was their dream to open a deli that specialized in regional cheese, and they were committed in the face of these impending and uncertain times to make it a reality. I was and still am encouraged by their bravery during all of this, and they were excited about my recommendation of a copper bartop. It was another large project (as far as my capabilities) with many offshoot projects of shelving, plant hangers, and even a curved footrail. It was also my first real attempt at laminating copper sheets to a substrate and I was thrilled about the outcome and final look of their space. They got the place opened and it has been very well received in my town.

As someone who worked retail and behind bars for a long, long time in downtown, Lawrence, I have quite a few connections to the business owners there. Early summer became a time to pivot for many, which brought more than a few projects to my door. Whether it was expanding shelving for increased online sales or moving entire operations around, there were no shortage of assistance required in making these changes, and I was glad to help.

One of the coolest projects of the year was a statue commission for a large, bronze John Brown bust. The homeowners loved the piece and gave me a lot of freedom which, for someone whom does not profess to be an artist was almost a bit of hindrance due to the second-guessing of my design, almost to the very end. It turned out to be one of the favorite things I have done.

The end of the summer was met with more highly custom pieces. A kitchen cart, a motorized wheelchair accessible table, and another copper project - an entire residential island wrapped in the prized material. I also began work on another downtown deli, this one bent more towards the carnal nature of man. The space had once served as a pizza shop, the new owners needed to do quite a bit of renovation. I was relegated to mainly the bartops and exterior of the bar, which involved repurposing all of the materials of the previous restaurant to accommodate the new one.

The fall brought on a large residential bar renovation as well as various smaller projects like a steel desk for a steel supply house in Kansas City. I was also commissioned to build 3 identical walnut coffee tables for a bank in Nebraska, the tables displaying some interesting design characteristics.

And for the end of the year, why not add in another bar to the mix? December had me back downtown, this time at a local theater/venue called Liberty Hall. We had it planned all year, and it took till the end to really nail it down. This was some much needed updating for a legendary space, and I am currently installing this one.

I am nothing but grateful of this last year, my busiest year to date. When I started out on my own, in my friend Joe’s garage, I would be astounded that anyone would give me money to do what I love. I’m still utterly humbled that people are seeking me out, and eternally grateful that I am able to help them out when I can. Now I just want to do more, help more. For that I hope to gather others to join me in this venture. We got a lot of work to do.

12/14/20

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