Reclaimed Heritage

Antique-style furniture builder Fred Savage uses only reclaimed lumber in his work. "There is a real sense of history in this wood," he says, "and it tells a story. People want a bit of history."

There it was: old structural timber found in joists, baseboard trim, cornices, support beams -- the motherlode of antique wood needed to bring his work alive, everything from pine and hemlock to the rarer treasures of maple and oak. The way he gathered his materials would never be the same.

"I can't use new lumber anymore. I feel guilty using the wood from large commercial forests when there is all of this great material going to waste," says the now 32-year old furniture designer and builder, whose company, Savage Woodworking, operates outside the small town of Erin, Ontario. Most woodworkers tend to exercise a more environmentally conscious approach to furniture than the average citizen simply by engaging in their craft, since building a fine piece of furniture that will last a lifetime wastes less material than buying cheaper factory-built furniture with a shorter life span. But Savage is also one of a growing number of woodworkers who looks to the buildings from an earlier generation to stock his woodshed.

In Ontario, reclaiming lumber from old barns and homes has become common practice, especially in southern Ontario, where the expansion of suburbs has often come at the expense of early settlements. Acres of farmland north of Toronto, and in areas around towns like Chatham, London and Sarnia, have been converted into subdivisions of stick-frame houses in the last 20 years leaving in their wake the early Mennonite and pioneer settlements, where the buildings were made from rare old-growth material.

For fine wood afficionados it is a chance to use a kind of lumber simply not available to them anymore. Reclaimed lumber has two qualities that make it especially desirable: size and appearance.

Many of the structures the wood is torn from are quite large, and because old-growth lumber was around for centuries before being used in construction, a lot of the material comes in sizes and thicknesses not available through home building stores or small woodlots. For the professional woodworker looking to build a number of pieces from the same stock, stumbling across an old oak beam is like hitting the jackpot.

As well, older lumber has a very different look that makes it desirable to old-style furniture builders: the color acquired through aging gives the wood a rustic feel while the use of old-growth lumber provides a solid, tight grain not often found elsewhere.

Even imperfections in wood can have a place in a piece of antique furniture, Savage says. "All of this wood comes from granaries and barns and old homes; there is real sense of history in this wood, and it all tells a story. I've taken wood where you can tell that rats -- you know, these fat country rats -- have been gnawing at the boards. And the patterns they create do some interesting work to the board. People want a bit of history. Sometimes I'll even write a little information on the bottom of a table, saying where the materials came from," he says.

Since he made his initial discovery, Savage has been on the lookout for new finds. He has kept in touch with a network of wreckers over the years and has followed the history of building construction in the province, so when a building goes down near Chatham he knows he's going to be looking for hardwood in the piles of debris. While a lot of the wood found in these old buildings is too warped or aged to be useful, there is more than enough quality wood to make the trip to the salvage yard worthwhile, says Savage.

"There are large planks, beams that can bought and you just have to trust your ability to identify the wood, look at the end grain and know what you're getting," he says. But Savage isn't just examining the quality of the wood -- he's also seeing how it will fit with his furniture, which material would best be suited for a table or bed frame. Here is where the marriage of style and substance comes in. Incorporating 19th-century techniques such as mortise-and-tenon, sliding dovetails and pegged joints, Savage tries to accentuate the connection between the wood and its new function. "I tend to build furniture that is designed to accommodate the dimensional lumber form. When I build an armoire, it's like a timber frame construction," he says.

Savage is of two minds when it comes to the sudden availability of wood from older settlements. On one hand, it saddens him to see a wave of cultural buildings, buildings that captured a time in Canadian history, simply vanish to make way for mass-produced subdivisions. He sees it as part of a terrible trend towards waste in our society.

The type of furniture I'm building, it will be around forever. Part of it is craftsmanship, but also I just hate to see stuff wasted. I think throwing out furniture is ridiculous. There are people who do it all the time, just fill the landfill with their old stuff, and it drives me nuts," he says.

	Savage's work is reminiscent of a much earlier era and the wood he uses to make it hails directly from that time. It's not just for the very authentic-looking results he achieves; it embodies Savage's woodworking philosophy: "I can't use new lumber anymore. I feel guilty using wood from large commercial forests when there is all this great material going to waste."

But on the other hand, creeping suburban sprawl has left many of these old buildings vacant, and some of their hidden treasure has fallen into his hands. So much so that his wood fills the rafters in the building he stores it in; he's had some of the pieces for 10 years or longer. As Savage walks through is wood barn, he can look at the intricately catalogued boards, pick one out and say, "This would make a good desk." So some of the old wood will live on for another couple of generations.

Photography: Carla Clipsham

Reprinted with permission
from Canadian Home Workshop magazine, November 2001
www.canadianhomeworkshop.com