Marcus Sly - Furniture Making and Design

There tends to be an assumption among contemporary craft furniture makers that every part of a piece should be made in the most refined way possible and given a perfect finish.  Wall cabinets will be given beautifully polished backs which are rarely seen, and the insides of even a large cabinet or wardrobe will be built to the same standard as the outside.  This can be a nice touch, and is sometimes appropriate.

Think for a moment though about an old cupboard, cabinet or bookcase which you love.  Chances are that the inside is built to a rather lower standard than the outside, and that any part which goes against a wall looks as if it were made with a hatchet!  The reason for this was primarily economic - to save expensive timber and labour for the more noticeable exterior.  There was also a common-sense understanding that the inside of a piece of furniture is often the functional bit, and that to use a fine finish there may actually interfere with that function. People want to take things (perhaps even throw things!) in and out regularly without worrying about scratching, or spilling on, finely crafted surfaces. 

Beyond these practical benefits to differing levels of finish and construction there is a less obvious bonus.  The things which surround us have the capacity to be more than just functional, aesthetically pleasing objects.  They can also enrich us by mirroring back to us something about our nature.  A fine piece of furniture has a living quality which we recognise and resonate to.  Any old house provides shelter, but a good house - quirky, characterful and embracing -  can be a vessel for the soul. 

A fine old cabinet is rather like a person.  It will have an attractive and well polished exterior which it presents to the world.  Look inside, or at the back, and things are rather darker, less neat, well ordered, and in many ways more interesting. The insides of old cupboards are often fascinating to children which hints at their primal appeal; we hear of magical worlds waiting to be discovered through the backs of wardrobes... 

To me an old, practical cabinet can feel more human, relevant and appealing than a piece in which perfection of craft has become a fetish.  We are more likely to relate to such a cabinet as a living part of our world to be used, rather than as an art object. Such a cabinet has a certain depth in how we experience it.  Instead of one level of finish and build quality we have several, related to the economics and utility of the piece in a logical way.  Because it is so obviously sensible it all feels "right", and doesn't jar on us.

Putting some of this depth into a contemporary cabinet doesn't necessarily mean that the inside, or even the back should be roughly made.  In an age when handmade things have become an unusual and special purchase for people it may not feel appropriate to skimp on the less exposed parts of a piece.  However we can still give our furniture a sense of levels of experience.  We could consider making the interior more "rustic" in terms of it's construction - perhaps subtly so. 

A tongue and groove back, or frames with flush panels in which timber movement is exposed to the eye, are things which can be done well, even finely, while having subtly different associations to the more formal joinery found on the cabinet front.  You can use a different level of finish on the inside.  This could be less prone to damage, and so more inviting to put things on.  You can use timber with a more rustic, less delicate figure.  You could also suggest to the client that the back is left roughly finished, saving them money while giving a view of the raw material from which the finely crafted front was made. With care, such devices can still "resolve" in a design sense, and can help to make a piece which is easier to live with than one which pursues technical perfection at all costs.