Porte Ouvert 2011

One of the great consequences of the internet age is the ability to have strangers around the world share common interests. I know the movie industry has discovered this. I expect the movie about facebook to win an oscar. Who would have thought, just a decade ago, that you could tweet or unfriend someone?

I have only blogged (again, a modern concept!) for a few months, but I am amazed at the international response I have received. I imagine my words as just a few data drops in the immense ocean of internet content, but people have found me, just like a message in a bottle is picked up on the other side of the world by a stranger. It boggles the mind.

One of these kind souls is Filip Tanghe, and I believe he lives in Brussels. He also attended a Stage at ecole Boulle and returns each year, when he can, to tour the open house. This year he offered to take some photos for me, since I am not able to make the trip. Looking at the photos I am filled with warm memories of my years in school in Paris, nearly 2 decades ago.

I knew that when Gabriel Fuchs replaced Pierre Ramond there would be changes. I heard that Mr. Fuchs wanted to "modernize" the atelier and invite more contemporary work from his students. Pierre was always passionate about the past, and admired the great works from the 18th century, as well as supporting newer ideas.

I had no idea that the school would tear down the entire wing of the building and start over!

The school is built in a large "U" shape, with a courtyard in the center. The original wing still stands in place, with the names of great ebenistes posted in tiles on the outside wall. The front wing is now draped in construction scaffolding and I assume will also be modernized. The wing which housed the marquetry workshops on the 6th floor, as well as the finishing workshops and other classes, has been replaced by a modern glass structure. All the classrooms are new.

In addition, the old cast iron jig saws have been replaced by modern jigsaws. Filip reports that there are 5 of them, as well as two new chevalets. One of the new chevalets is designed to work either left or right handed, as well as being adjustable in height. These new chevalets also have carved masks on the front block, perhaps since I note the carving workshop is in the next room to the marquetry atelier.

He also sent me a photo of Pierre, who is now 75 years old. I note he is older and grayer than I remember, but there is one feature that hasn't changed in 20 years. His passionate smile still fills the workshop.

Porte Ouvert

Since I was invited by a professor to attend a stage at ecole Boulle, I had no idea how difficult it was to visit the school. Once I was provided with my student identification and pin, I realized how special it was to be accepted into that institution.








Assuming you were visiting Paris as a tourist and wanted to see the school, this is probably what would happen: you would enter the front door and meet a security guard sitting behind a window. He would ask you what your purpose was and, if you had not made prior arraignments to visit, send

you away. Assuming you got past the entry, you would find yourself in a lobby without any information on where to go; just the normal crowd of students passing on their way to class.

The actual administration is located on the second floor, and, since the school is 6 floors high, you would need to ask them where the workshop is that you wanted to visit. There are many different workshops in the school. Classes in upholstery, chair making, cabinet making, carving, engraving, metal working, industrial design, marquetry, finishing, sculpting, and so on. Everywhere you go there is amazing talent. The teachers are all outstanding in their profession, and the students have such a high level of ability that it is taken for granted that anything is possible.

Once a year, however, the school opens its doors, and makes it possible for the public to see the work. This happens at the end of January, in a few weeks. I can imagine that this week the entire school is cleaning up its floors, ceilings, lamps, windows and setting up dioramas in each workshop to show off their projects. It is a busy time for all.

Busloads of people arrive, from all over Europe. Italians, Germans, English, French and many other countries arrive to tour the school during this special time. As an English speaker, it became my duty to explain the marquetry workshop to these visitors who did not speak French. It was a treat I will always cherish.

It also gave me a chance to tour the entire school during this time. Normally, I had very little chance to see all the other workshops, since I was busy doing my student work. But during "open door" I could wander all over the school and discover for myself what was going on. Behind every door was a new experience and a chance to see some wonderful work.

If you have the chance right now, go to Paris, take the metro to Place Nation and walk two blocks to ecole Boulle. It is worth the trip.

The Douville Family Veneer Saw

During my first year at school, I was joined by two other marquetry workers who, like myself, were invited by Pierre to study for a "stage" of work. One of these workers was Danish and the other was Spanish. It was an interesting period for the three of us, starting with the language issues. Fortunately, the Danish spoke English and understood enough French to explain to me what was said. Unfortunately, the Spanish spoke French, but with such a strange accent that I was more confused than ever.





One day Pierre announced to the three of us that we were invited to visit a workshop just outside Paris which had been in business since around 1800. I had no idea why this was such a special opportunity, except that it was a historic atelier. From the comments of the other students I began to realize this was the chance of a lifetime, and something which not everyone was given the chance to experience.

The workshop was that of the Douville family, who were responsible for creating the first mechanical saw for veneer around 1805. The saw was still in place, and the two elderly brothers who lived there were the 5th generation of the family. They were still in business, sawing veneer, and rarely opened their doors for visitors.

Before we went, Pierre related a story to us which helped us to appreciate what to expect. He said that there was a museum conservator from a major American museum who had visited the workshop previously. During the visit this curator asked if he could use the restroom. "Is it a petite affair or a grand affair?" inquired one of the Douville brothers. "A petite affair," replied the conservator, properly dressed in a nice suit. "There's the wall," was the answer.

When we arrived it looked like any other home on the street, surrounded by the famous wall. We were greeted by two men, both in their 80's and unmarried. They excitedly showed us the car which had sat in the garage since the 1920's and was in perfect condition. We went to lunch and they drank several bottles of wine. It was a very interesting conversation, which became more interesting after lunch.

My first impression of the workshop, which was in a building in the back yard, was that it was just a large building full of wood and tools. The wood frame saw stood in the center of the room and around the walls were cabinets with piles of wood, veneer and tools scattered everywhere. The most amazing thing was that the entire room was full of a dark, heavy sawdust that was at least 3 feet deep over every square inch, except the narrow paths where people walked. The sawdust was mahogany, rosewood, tulip, kingwood, and I can only imagine what other woods, and it actually covered the drawers up to the top surface of the cabinets. The walkways, or paths if you can call them that, were narrow clear trails which were only about a foot wide.

"Have you ever lost anything?" I asked, incredulously. "Only once," one replied, "Remember when dad thought he had lost that diamond ring?" The other answered immediately, "But then he found it years later." They both agreed that nothing was ever lost in the mess, it was just not readily available at that moment. Surely it will turn up later...

I was not allowed to take any photographs during this field trip, which is unfortunate. Within the next 5 years the shop would be sold and closed. Patrick George purchased most of the veneer and the original saw was taken apart and moved to his veneer store in Bagnolet. Patrick George operates two veneer saws, which were made later in the 19th century. I include a photo of one of these tools with this post. The other photo is a tool collector in the South of France who owns a similar saw.

I had originally posted a story about this special type of veneer saw on July 26, 2010. To my knowledge, there is a German shop and a shop in Belgium, in addition to Patrick George and the person in the South of France, which is the total list of these saws currently operating in the world.

I now realize how important is was to visit the original tool and talk with the original family. At no time did I ask to use the bathroom.

Sand Shading

There are many individual steps to create a marquetry panel, and I love all of them except one. From the inspiration to the design, the selection of materials, putting the packets together and cutting out the elements, shading each piece in hot sand and gluing the picture together on an assembly board, making the mastic and gluing the final picture in place, and...finally...removing the kraft paper to discover your finished work of art. I look forward eagerly to each step of the process, except shading in sand.

This is kind of weird, since the first "Is Good!" compliment I got from Pierre was when I shaded the ribbon on my third etude. Up to that point, which was two months of school, I had only heard him say "Is Bad." So I assumed I had done something right.





To be blunt, shading elements in sand is boring and a little dangerous, if you forget for a moment what you are doing. The sand is very hot (around 600 degrees at the bottom) and the pieces are very small. There is a strong temptation to reach in and grab a piece if it disappears. Resist that temptation. In fact, do not place any part of your hand over the pan. Use very large tweezers and keep your body parts away from the pan and the sand.

In the winter there is some relief that the heat is comforting, but in the summer...

If, for example, your project has 1500 elements and you made 3 copies then you have about 4500 pieces of wood to place carefully in the sand at exactly the proper depth and angle. Each piece sits in the sand for a few seconds. That means you will need to sit in place working without stop for 22,500 seconds, which is over 6 hours.

When I first tried to burn wood in sand, I just went to the local beach and brought home some sand and heated it in a pan. Not only did I destroy the pan but the beach sand created the most interesting smells as some of the "foreign matter" burned up. I then tried Home Depot play sand, but the grains were different sizes and I could not get an even burn. Then I tried sifting sand but couldn't find the proper screen to work.

So, during my first visit to Paris, I purchased a kilo of sand from the supplier to the school. As I went through customs I was stopped and asked to open my bags. The officer asked me what was in one bag, and I replied: "Sand." He just stared at me and repeated, "Sand?" like I was an idiot. I started to explain the technique of marquetry and what the sand was used for, but he simply waved me through.

This happened again at the airport in Portland, Oregon. I was vacationing with my wife at Cannon Beach and discovered the high winds created wonderful spots behind rocks which were full of the finest sand, very even in size. I picked up several pounds and put them in my bags. At the airport I watched from a distance as my checked bags were opened by TSA and the officers gathered around to sift through my "special" sand. They shrugged and I could tell by their body language that they also thought I was an idiot.

Isn't it amazing how we choose to spend our time?

Tradition Preservation

One can only imagine what it must have been like standing in the center of Andre-Charles Boulle's workshop during the peak of his career. The piles of exotic materials, like imported hardwoods from all corners of the world's forests, the tortoise shell, ivory, brass and copper sheets, gilt mounts, complex hardware, all formed a backdrop for the magnificent projects which were being constructed with great precision by dozens of talented workmen. From time to time the king or his representative would visit and verify that all the work was done to the highest level possible anywhere in the known world
.

All that was destroyed by a fire in the workshop around 1720, and the loss was beyond measure, both to the King and France, and to the history of furniture making. Boulle never recovered and died a decade later in debt. The fashion for "Boulle" decoration declined and was replaced by the more colorful marquetry decoration of the mid 18th century made possible by the French invention of the picking machine and the development of the chevalet.

By the way, I must admit that I like the work of Pierre Gole better than that of Andre-Charles Boulle, but that is another post.

The reason I mention this brief history of the trade is to discuss how tradition is kept alive through the centuries. During the 19th century the use of marquetry surface decoration almost disappeared. Many of the shops closed or changed their work to adapt to the clean, "modern" lines of the newest fashion. What tradition persisted in the old ways was transmitted by individual workers to their assistants. Even the traditional Guilds were abolished by the Revolution, and the Industrial Revolution threatened to eliminate much of the historic knowledge of the past masters.

Around the time of Napoleon III it was obvious that a school needed to be created to reestablish the methods of furniture making which were made famous in the 18th century. It took about 20 years, but at the end of the 1880's a new school was built and opened its doors to the first class of 60 students. That was ecole Boulle, and it stands today as one of the most important trade schools in Europe. Its mission is to preserve the historic trades of the past.

During the 20 years that this foundation of learning was being established there was a renaissance in the Faubourg St. Antoine, in Paris, where workshops again returned to making highly decorative marquetry. Much of this marquetry was applied to local creations, but some of it was made for export, and one of the more well known New York shops, Herter Brothers, purchased their marquetry at this time for their own use. I was restoring a famous Herter Brothers table before I attended ecole Boulle, and took pictures of this table with me when I entered Pierre's class for the first time. He pointed to page 60 of his book and stated that the marquetry on this New York table was made in the Guilmet workshop of Paris around 1880. More research needs to be done on this particular transmission of material from Europe to America during the late 19th century.

I have direct evidence of this trade. Years ago, at the end of a lecture I had presented on Decorative Arts, I was approached by an elderly woman, Jonna Aase. She asked me if I would be interested in some marquetry she had inherited. I asked "What kind of furniture is it?" She replied, "It's not on a piece of furniture. It is just marquetry."

When I visited her home, she produced several pieces of marquetry which had never been used. After I purchased them, she provided me with a note: "These are imported inlay woodwork brought to Odense Denmark by a Danish importer of veneer woods. Made in Paris about 1874. This date established by a newspaper backing on the reverse of the inlays dated in March of 1874 in the French language. Purchased in Odense by Chris Anderson and brought to America in October 1914." These panels were made with sawn veneers, highly tinted and faced with paper, as is the normal method. They even have prices!

I used these examples in my lectures and classes for years. Since I had several examples, I took many of them back to Paris and presented them to Pierre Ramond and Michel Jamet and Patrick George and other mentors who had helped me in my studies. I felt that returning these small samples of French work from a century ago would somehow contribute to the continuation of the grand tradition of design and culture.

Don't You Loose Pieces?

The craft of marquetry does not travel well. By that I mean that, during my career I have demonstrated in public at woodworking shows, SAPFM conferences, school classrooms and, for three years, in the Getty museum galleries. What a chore!

You need to move the chevalet, all the hand tools and materials, set up the glue pot, assemble the picking machine, and not drop the trays which are full of pieces. Any unnecessary movement of the trays means that time must be spent putting all the pieces back in order. That can easily take hours...


At the workshop in ecole Boulle there is a wall cabinet which holds all the trays of work for the students. Each student is provided with a tray or trays according to his project, and the position of his trays within the cabinet is decided by the teacher. You do not put your tray back in a different slot. There is no messing around with the trays; too much is at stake.

I noticed that, like all students where there is a close friendship bond, there is a certain amount of humor and jokes. It happens from time to time that one student will do something to another student to create a moment of laughter. This is really because the work is serious and challenging and it makes the working environment more enjoyable when people have fun.

However, it is never fun to mess with a student's tray. You do not touch it. If it is in your way, you find the owner and ask him to move it. Too much is at stake.

I was at school for so long that I took this rule as absolute and obvious to all. Unfortunately, not all Americans understand this idea. Years ago, when I was demonstrating at the Novi convention center in Detroit (I think?) I had all my work and materials spread out on the tables for the public to see. I was working for several days on my chevalet, making a project, and putting the parts in the tray on the table as I cut them out. I encouraged the visitors to handle much of the material and tools which I used to show the process, but I had a small "do not touch" sign next to the tray of parts.

When my back was turned a kid about 10 years old, standing with his father, used his hands to stir up the parts in the tray, breaking many of them, and spilling them on the floor. What I said next caused all the people within a 50 foot radius to stop talking and stare. It was not nice. The father covered his kids ears and quickly disappeared into the startled crowd. It was several minutes before I regained my composure, and I never was able to complete the project, which had taken 3 days to cut.

Now that I have my own school, the American School of French Marquetry, I never need to travel. Everything has its place, and the space is wonderful to work in. I am a lucky camper.

You are all invited to visit when you are in San Diego. Anytime...just don't touch the trays!

Kraft Paper

Before I went to Paris to study with Pierre I had been working over 20 years restoring antiques and making marquetry. I had read all the books that existed in English and that was the source of much of my knowledge as well as my problems.

I have mentioned before in this post that the first time I saw a copy of Pierre's book, "Marquetry," which was published by Taunton Press in 1989, I was introduced to methods which resolved many of the difficulties I had encountered. I was already using a chevalet to cut designs, since I built my first tool 15 years earlier. However, it did not come with any instructions! I had to teach myself by trial and error as well as deduction.

My first mistake in building the chevalet was that I placed the blade in the saw in the wrong position. I knew that it cut on the push stroke and was held horizontal in the jaws. However, I positioned the blade with the teeth cutting on the left side, not on the bottom. That meant I had been cutting for 15 years by feeding the material into the blade from the left, cutting sideways.

When I arrived at ecole Boulle, I knew that I would be able to use the chevalets with confidence, since I had been sitting on one for a long time and had lots of experience. After all, my first project was cutting a table top which was 4' x 15' (which took 300 hours). Imagine my surprise when I sat down and realized the blade cut down and not sideways!

There was another aspect of the French method which had eluded me as well. I had used lots of gummed veneer tape to hold my work together, as most workers do in countries outside France. I would start to salivate as soon as I saw a roll of tape, and had licked miles of tape in my career. I wonder what the protein content of veneer tape is?

The biggest problem with taping projects together is that the layers of tape are not even all over the surface. In some places there were many layers of tape and in other places there were only a few layers, or none. That created problems when the marquetry was put into the press, as the pressure did not evenly reach all the surface of the veneer at the same time. Other problems were caused by tape not properly adhering or not pulling the pieces together properly.

In reading Pierre's book, I noticed a short mention of the kraft paper, which he uses. On page 73 is a paragraph which describes the 4 types of paper used in marquetry. "Grey kraft paper for gluing and inlaying," is the only mention of this material, and no where does he discuss making an assembly board with this paper. Clearly, it is such an obvious trick that he does not feel it necessary to explain further.

I have posted previously the proper method for making an assembly board using kraft paper. (Post dated 10/10/10).

When I saw the students building such amazing projects with this method I realized what an important part of the process this was. It allowed the pictures to be built face down, which created a clean front with all the elements pressed forward properly. It allowed the work to be done from the back, where tool marks and mastic were not seen in the final result. The paper was easily removed after the picture was glued to the project by using cold water and gentle scraping. Most importantly, it allowed even pressure to reach the entire surface, since there was only one layer of paper holding everything together.

Unfortunately, kraft paper is not available in America. I have to import it at some expense from France, and I sell it for my students to use at a reasonable price. I wish it were more generally available. It seems that in our modern world we are so anxious to have the newest electronics, but who cares about such a simple material as traditional paper?