Bay Area Dave started one hell of an interesting thread in asking why
and how people deal with plans. I'd like to congratulate him. It's
the kind of discussion that used to occur on the wreck with some
frequency.

I've read through the various iterations of the thread and I am
heartened to see that so many of my fellow wreckers are so seriously
engaged in thinking about design level problems and solutions.

If'n ya ain't got a plan ya don't have a project.

I don't care if the plan is only, "I need a shelf that is big enough
to hold my wife's chotchkas." That is at least the beginnings of a
plan.

Of course, Dave's initial question was about other folks plans and our
slavish use of them.

Since I came to cabinetmaking from the building business, I was long
used to having plans shoved in my face. Sometimes the plans were
drawn sketch style by my bosses and other times, much more frequently
in more recent years, they were drawn by architects or designers.
Some architects and designers are pretty good at drawing cabinet plans
- most of them suck.

Mostly the plans had only gross measurements and a description of what
was to be provided.

Some of them were pretty damned good, though. There's a pretty famous
architectural firm that used to be called, "Venturi, Rauch and Scott
Brown". They are currently called, "Venturi and Scott Brown." Some
of you who are familiar with the history of Post Modernism in
architecture will recognize the names.

Rauch was more of a traditionalist in his approach to architecture and
ultimately became a minor voice in the partnership, which became a
celebration of the allegedly artistic accomplishments of Robert
Venturi and, to a far lesser extent, his wife, Denise Scott Brown.

Well, through a friend, who happened to be his son, Mr. Rauch decided
to use me to make the built in cabinets in a home that he had designed
for himself towards the end of his career.

John Rauch made those drawings himself. They were not farmed out to
any of the many subalterns that he could have used. John Rauch knew
what he wanted and he wanted to communicate what he wanted through
very detailed drawings. I was damned happy to be involved.

The drawings described not only the general form of the cabinets but
went to the level of joinery, installation and finish details. The
man was a partner in one of the hottest architectural firms in the
country, so I went to those plans with the intent of learning from a
master.

The plan didn't work.

Without going into endless detail, let me just say that the drawings
showed no appreciation for the facts of wood movement; no
understanding of the load bearing capacities of shelving materials and
no appreciation of the relative merits of various finishes, in so far
as they were to be exposed to pretty serious daily usage.

This, from a partner in one of the most respected architectural firms
in the country.

Getting away from that, I've bought many books of plans for furniture.
In almost every instance I have found flaws. In one of Gottschall's
books I found a secretary that, if it had been built according to
plan, would have resulted in a construction that could not work, as
far as drawers and doors go.

Let me say that I have learned a tremendous amount about design and
construction from reading plans. I have learned even more from the
deconstruction of old pieces during my attempts to repair them.

What I've also learned is that most plans are flawed and, if followed
blindly and faithfully, will result in a project that does not
represent the design level intent of the plans. Even the
deconstruction and rebuilding of historically important pieces can
result in furniture that ignores the realities of wood movement and
therefore is doomed to failure.

The bracket foot is a good example.

I still love looking at plans. I even still enjoy looking at the
joinery level drawings but I watch them with a cautioned eye.

I really believe that plans should be viewed as a resource, and one of
many resources, the most important of which is our personal experience
and intentions.

Not all the current or old masters are worth following.

JOAT posts many plans that he clearly marks as inspirational. I look
at many of these and some I find to be truly inspirational in the
sense that they run counter to the accepted traditions of joinery and
design. JOAT, in my view, is to be commended for supplying these
resources. However, if we were to think of all the plans that he or
anyone else posts as bullet proof recipes for the construction of good
work, we would miss the point.

I believe that we should be informed and excited by plans but that we
should not be slaves to them. That path is fraught with too many
problems. But, I would never give up looking at plans, as they are a
source of ideas and information that we can all use, once they are
passed through our own editorial function.

My final thought would be that we can all be improved by drawing our
own plans. There are problems that can be solved on paper that would
cost real time, money and effort in the construction phase. Drawing
your own plans allows you to play with all the elements of a piece and
their interactions. It is a tremendous help in the area of relative
weights given to the elements of a design. It is a great help in
figuring out the interrelationship of design elements that might
conflict with each other in the real world.

Paper is cheap. Time is irrecoverable.



Regards, Tom
Tom Watson - Woodworker
Gulph Mills, Pennsylvania
http://users.snip.net/~tjwatson

On Fri, 22 Aug 2003 23:54:13 GMT, "Swingman" wrote:

Spoken like a damn good Cajun cook.


You speak about me cookin', no?

Ain't no Cajun, me.

Pennsyltucky, yays.

L'il bid sauce piquante be good for us alls.

(I do love dem peoples)

(an mose specially dey foods)


Not from de bayou but lovin' it big time, yes.





Regards, Tom
Tom Watson - Woodworker
Gulph Mills, Pennsylvania
http://users.snip.net/~tjwatson

Tom,

Thank you for the kind words. It was my intention to start such a
thread. The responses were all thoughtful and gave me a different
perspective on why one would use a "plan" other than their own. Seems
as though they don't follow them to the letter as I had surmised. Thanks
for the warning about less than perfect plans. I guess there's no
certified, guaranteed plans, huh?

If I had my druthers while planing a project, I'd attempt to dream up my
own design, but failing that, I too, will have to copy those who've gone
before me. (Or at least get some good ideas!)

dave

Tom Watson wrote:

Bay Area Dave started one hell of an interesting thread in asking why
and how people deal with plans. I'd like to congratulate him. It's
the kind of discussion that used to occur on the wreck with some
frequency.

I've read through the various iterations of the thread and I am
heartened to see that so many of my fellow wreckers are so seriously
engaged in thinking about design level problems and solutions.

If'n ya ain't got a plan ya don't have a project.

I don't care if the plan is only, "I need a shelf that is big enough
to hold my wife's chotchkas." That is at least the beginnings of a
plan.

Of course, Dave's initial question was about other folks plans and our
slavish use of them.

Since I came to cabinetmaking from the building business, I was long
used to having plans shoved in my face. Sometimes the plans were
drawn sketch style by my bosses and other times, much more frequently
in more recent years, they were drawn by architects or designers.
Some architects and designers are pretty good at drawing cabinet plans
- most of them suck.

Mostly the plans had only gross measurements and a description of what
was to be provided.

Some of them were pretty damned good, though. There's a pretty famous
architectural firm that used to be called, "Venturi, Rauch and Scott
Brown". They are currently called, "Venturi and Scott Brown." Some
of you who are familiar with the history of Post Modernism in
architecture will recognize the names.

Rauch was more of a traditionalist in his approach to architecture and
ultimately became a minor voice in the partnership, which became a
celebration of the allegedly artistic accomplishments of Robert
Venturi and, to a far lesser extent, his wife, Denise Scott Brown.

Well, through a friend, who happened to be his son, Mr. Rauch decided
to use me to make the built in cabinets in a home that he had designed
for himself towards the end of his career.

John Rauch made those drawings himself. They were not farmed out to
any of the many subalterns that he could have used. John Rauch knew
what he wanted and he wanted to communicate what he wanted through
very detailed drawings. I was damned happy to be involved.

The drawings described not only the general form of the cabinets but
went to the level of joinery, installation and finish details. The
man was a partner in one of the hottest architectural firms in the
country, so I went to those plans with the intent of learning from a
master.

The plan didn't work.

Without going into endless detail, let me just say that the drawings
showed no appreciation for the facts of wood movement; no
understanding of the load bearing capacities of shelving materials and
no appreciation of the relative merits of various finishes, in so far
as they were to be exposed to pretty serious daily usage.

This, from a partner in one of the most respected architectural firms
in the country.

Getting away from that, I've bought many books of plans for furniture.
In almost every instance I have found flaws. In one of Gottschall's
books I found a secretary that, if it had been built according to
plan, would have resulted in a construction that could not work, as
far as drawers and doors go.

Let me say that I have learned a tremendous amount about design and
construction from reading plans. I have learned even more from the
deconstruction of old pieces during my attempts to repair them.

What I've also learned is that most plans are flawed and, if followed
blindly and faithfully, will result in a project that does not
represent the design level intent of the plans. Even the
deconstruction and rebuilding of historically important pieces can
result in furniture that ignores the realities of wood movement and
therefore is doomed to failure.

The bracket foot is a good example.

I still love looking at plans. I even still enjoy looking at the
joinery level drawings but I watch them with a cautioned eye.

I really believe that plans should be viewed as a resource, and one of
many resources, the most important of which is our personal experience
and intentions.

Not all the current or old masters are worth following.

JOAT posts many plans that he clearly marks as inspirational. I look
at many of these and some I find to be truly inspirational in the
sense that they run counter to the accepted traditions of joinery and
design. JOAT, in my view, is to be commended for supplying these
resources. However, if we were to think of all the plans that he or
anyone else posts as bullet proof recipes for the construction of good
work, we would miss the point.

I believe that we should be informed and excited by plans but that we
should not be slaves to them. That path is fraught with too many
problems. But, I would never give up looking at plans, as they are a
source of ideas and information that we can all use, once they are
passed through our own editorial function.

My final thought would be that we can all be improved by drawing our
own plans. There are problems that can be solved on paper that would
cost real time, money and effort in the construction phase. Drawing
your own plans allows you to play with all the elements of a piece and
their interactions. It is a tremendous help in the area of relative
weights given to the elements of a design. It is a great help in
figuring out the interrelationship of design elements that might
conflict with each other in the real world.

Paper is cheap. Time is irrecoverable.



Regards, Tom
Tom Watson - Woodworker
Gulph Mills, Pennsylvania
http://users.snip.net/~tjwatson

Well said Tom.

"Tom Watson" wrote in message
...
It's the kind of discussion that used to occur on the wreck
with some frequency.


Fortunately, Google allows you to dumpster dive back in time to retrieve
them.


I don't care if the plan is only, "I need a shelf that is big enough
to hold my wife's chotchkas." That is at least the beginnings of a
plan.


"...the beginnings of a plan." and here perhaps is where the confusion lies.
Some people need a thumbsketch, others a scaled specification. What are "the
beginnings of a plan"? It's subjective - the beginnings of a plan, for me,
may be too much for others. Plans are much more than a scaled drawing, or a
lot less - it really depends on your skill level and previous experience.
Isn't a story stick a plan?

Anyway, a plan does not have to be written down on paper. In fact, people
infer this. Plans existed long before writing ever did. Word of mouth, cave
drawings and other methods. The plan was an 'intention', or a method of
doing something. The written article is simply a method of conveyance and
documentation. So when someone says "a thumbnail sketch will suffice", what
they really mean is the rest of the plan is in their head.

People who create things without a plan, really mean "without a written
plan". If they truly do not have a plan, the project will fail. To
illustrate, to create something you must perform an orchestrated sequence of
events: recognise a want or need, envision what will satisfy that want or
need, define the details, selecting product, preparing, dimensioning,
assembling, finishing etc. This "orchestrated sequence of events" is a plan,
no? Try to remove one of the items in the simplified list above, or put it
out of sequence, and you will realise that every one of us has a plan, must
have a plan.

For those of us that have written a computer program (plan), we know just
how detailed and specific some instructions have to be, because the computer
starts from a point of complete ignorance. Fortunately, when dealing with
humans you only have to determine the level of knowledge of the person to
decide what level of plan is required, or desired.

A 'perfect plan' can only be 'perfect' for one person, and probably, just
for that point in that person's life. After that, their knowledge increases
and parts of the plan becomes superfluous.


Getting away from that, I've bought many books of plans for furniture.
In almost every instance I have found flaws. In one of Gottschall's
books I found a secretary that, if it had been built according to
plan, would have resulted in a construction that could not work, as
far as drawers and doors go.


Tom, you write "The Book", I'll buy a copy!


Let me say that I have learned a tremendous amount about design and
construction from reading plans. I have learned even more from the
deconstruction of old pieces during my attempts to repair them.


Inherent in "reading" is critical analysis, this will either take you to a
new level of understanding or highlight a flaw, as you've pointed out below.
The important issue for the woodworker is to critique the plan before the
problems surface.


What I've also learned is that most plans are flawed and, if followed
blindly and faithfully, will result in a project that does not
represent the design level intent of the plans. Even the
deconstruction and rebuilding of historically important pieces can
result in furniture that ignores the realities of wood movement and
therefore is doomed to failure.

The bracket foot is a good example.


I would dearly love to find a critical analysis written on the flaws of
furniture design, are there any?


I believe that we should be informed and excited by plans but that we
should not be slaves to them. That path is fraught with too many
problems. But, I would never give up looking at plans, as they are a
source of ideas and information that we can all use, once they are
passed through our own editorial function.

My final thought would be that we can all be improved by drawing our
own plans. There are problems that can be solved on paper that would
cost real time, money and effort in the construction phase. Drawing
your own plans allows you to play with all the elements of a piece and
their interactions. It is a tremendous help in the area of relative
weights given to the elements of a design. It is a great help in
figuring out the interrelationship of design elements that might
conflict with each other in the real world.

Paper is cheap. Time is irrecoverable.


Three paragraphs that summarise the use of plans beautifully, well said Tom!

Greg

On Sat, 23 Aug 2003 02:12:42 GMT, "Groggy"
wrote:

I'm not much for detailed plans, although arguably that could be my
problem. I've always gone along with a mental concept and some crude
sketches. In fact, on my website, on the "sewing cabinet" link is a
scan of the "plan" I used for it that will illustrate what I do.

For those of us that have written a computer program (plan),

I had a friend who said a computer program is always somewhere between
15% and 90% complete. Even before you write the first line of code you
have an idea of what you want the program to do, some thoughts about
subroutines, and even the institutional structure of any program in
general. That's the 15%.

We all know what the 90% is. It's when it's time to deliver the
software to the user, because it's running like it's supposed to, even
though we can continue to think of refinements or added features
almost ad nauseum.

I think plans are much the same way; at least for me. I can easily
consider I have the plan 15% complete before I even grab a pencil. The
other end might be a little different. I think it's much easier to
contemplate completion on a woodworking project than I ever could a
computer program.


LRod

Master Woodbutcher and seasoned termite

Shamelessly whoring my website since 1999

http://www.woodbutcher.net