This topic was producing the longest post in the history of blogging, so I broke it up into a series.
Years ago, I was talked in to displaying and “selling” at a local art show.
I thought it would be good chance to show the community that there was some quality woodworking happening around them.
I spent several weeks toiling away on smaller items people could buy and carry around with ease. I wanted to make it as easy as possible for people to buy. I remember having visions of crowds backed up to my booth, and all the other vendors scratching their heads in amazement. I was so sure people would want what I was making because these were fresh designs, complimented by “expert” craftsmanship.
Finally the day came, and I set up my table with all of the beautiful items. I unfolded a couple of chairs for people to sit and talk if they like, and unlocked my money box. I was ready for the tidal wave of art patrons!
One by one, people slowly started walking by,pointing and making comments to themselves. A few people grew to a small crowd after a couple of hours. Then, by midday I was immersed in folks standing around asking questions, discussing construction methods, and wood choices. I was thrilled! I talked to so many people that day, that I lost my voice.
The show ended, and I was beat. I had stood there all day talking, greeting, and telling my story to literally thousands of people. I finally sat down, and opened the money box to see how much I had made. Empty.
What?!?! Nothing?! No sales? That’s right. No one bought anything. I was devastated. I spent the rest of the day putting everything back in the shop and feeling very worthless. One question kept running through my mind that evening; “Does the world really need my furniture?”
At some point in time, I’m sure this question has run through your mind. You work in your shop, alone, and wonder if what you’re doing really matters. You might ask yourself:
Does it really matter to anyone else but me whether I make furniture or not?
Who wants my work? (other than family being nice)
What good does it do to make things no one sees or cares about?
What good are you doing if your work isn’t being featured in the magazines, isn’t on display in prestigious galleries, or isn’t even being asked for by clients? Is there even a reason for you to keep working? There can be many reasons for giving up in your pursuits of mastering the craft, so why do you keep going?
The way of the craftsman can feel very lonely at times. Especially when there is no one waiting with open arms for your completed work. Before you throw in the proverbial shop towel and sell your tools on Ebay, I just want to tell you that there is hope. People do want what you make, and in fact they might just need it.
In part 2 we’ll look at what the world might be needing from you as a woodworker.
So, did you come up with any answers when you asked yourself those questions? Is there a bigger picture that you keep in mind while designing and building those precious objects of distinction?
Open the eyes of the world to your work by subscribing to The Woodworker’s Journey.
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Adam, I ask myself some of those questions about every other day, especially now that I’ll be making work more full-time. It can be frustrating when you make things you’re passionate about and not come up with the sales to match. But I think there is always a market for our work – we just have to figure out the best way to reach it. Maybe the clientele – or the venue – of the art show wasn’t the best fit for your work. Maybe it was still valuable for the exposure it gave you. Pretty recently we exchanged a few tweets about pricing, which might be tangentially related to your blog post. I think many people (and I’ve been guilty of this myself) think that if you don’t immediately sell all your inventory, you need to lower your prices – that something is wrong with you or your work. This could be true in some circumstances, but generally, it’s dangerous territory to get into. I’m a firm believer that if you work at something long enough, and are willing to stick it out and keep pushing yourself creatively through the difficult times, you’ll eventually break through. I guess my “answer” is that I never make work based on what I think other people want me to make. Sure, when you’re working with a client, you want them to be happy. But you shouldn’t have to dramatically change your aesthetic and what you’re passionate about just to make your work more marketable.
Peter,
These are good observations. There is a market that exists for people’s work, but it’s tough to identify at times. Your personal aesthetic is what it is and is always changing as you change, but it will indeed resonate with a select group. That’s the key – a small select focused group.
Thanks for the comment.
As Peter points out that the need to “immediately sell all your inventory” is folly (and I don’t disagree), I’ll point out the opposite. Your basic premise is that if one can’t find buyers for one’s creations that there’s no point in creating them. I most humbly disagree and will point out that the vast majority of woodworkers do it as a hobby, not a profession. Most never sell their work. Still, they pursue woodworking because they understand that it is the process, not the outcome that is important.
Cheers — Larry
Larry,
You’re on to something there, my friend. It’s not about the sales, in the end.
Hi Adam,
A very nice site you have here. I’m glad I found it. And a very good toipc as well.
I’m with Larry. I think there will be differing views on how important other’s views and influence are depending on one’s intent for their involvement in the craft. On the one hand, someone trying to make a living as a studio or reproduction furniture maker should very well be concerned with what other’s think as they are the ones spending their money. And when we’re talking custom furniture/craft work, we’re usually not talking about small change. If I’m spending two week’s salary on a piece of furniture, you bet I’m going to be picky and want some say about what I’m buying. This is one of the reasons [I think] that we are so focussed on surface perfection these days. People are so used to the perfect machined joinery and completely tearout free, flawless surfaces of over sanded and plastic laminated factory made junk that these surfaces have come to be a minimum expectation. We see this even in reproduction work where the surface of the original was never that perfect, nor was it ever intended to be. However, when you have to meet a customer’s demands & expectations, you make the sacrifice because you need to eat.
On the other hand, I believe that most woodworkers today are the hobbyist type like myself. It is a very rare day that I sell a piece. Does that mean I’m going to give up on making furniture, because there’s little interest from the outside world in what I do and make? Heck no. I design and build for myself and no one else (O.K., my wife too). If someone approaches me and wants to hire me to build a piece for them, that’s great. I may even accept the job, IF I have the time and the desire to build what they want me to build. If not, I have no regrets turning them down and referring them to someone else that could use the commission. For me, building furniture is a recreation; an escape; a way for me to connect with those who used my tools before me; a way for me to connect with my children besides watching television or playing video games; a way to furnish my own home with pieces I could never afford to buy from someone else; a way to develop problem solving skills and hand eye coordination; a way to connect with nature; a way to meet and converse with like minded people; a way to spend quiet time alone.
It’s about the finished product…but it’s not.
Ok, Adam … interesting post. I know I’m a little slow on the draw here, I’ve been offline for awhile.
I’m going to approach this a little differently. Yes, of course the world needs my furniture … and yours, and that of our community who care about something they create. Create, not manufacture. Yes, our society has shifted a long way toward box stores and “made in China” but that makes what we do all that more special. Most people won’t get it, but that’s ok.
I’m committed to keeping the centuries old woodworking traditions and techniques alive. And I want to see our generation of people have a chance to appreciate fine furniture, a modern version unlike that found in their grandparents’ home. If we don’t persevere in this duty who is going to?
You’re dead on here. The commitment to the traditions of woodworking, is indeed a duty we all should shoulder. The next generation cries out for it.
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