Learning to remodel, a journey

Many carpenters can comfortably navigate whole careers without encountering much woodworking - at least in the finer sense. There's a common layman's assumption of all categories of building being similar and even interchangeable. And it's true that on job-sites, even the most craft-minded finish-carpenters use the same port-a-john as the rough and formwork carpenters. We're all in "construction." And God bless it! Fine work is needed across the whole building cycle, and none are exempt from its necessity. The coordinated effort across several layers of carpentry is the only way to achieve a beautiful, functional, durable product.

I mention woodworking first because my perspective as a carpenter is informed by it foremost, leaning toward cabinetry, millwork and furniture. Particularly, I'm driven by a love of fine woodworking, and bringing surprising craftsmanship into unassuming places. I'm separated from some of my esteemed peers in that regard, by having a craft-forward mindset - bred out of a focus on single pieces which have few(er) spacial variables to account for - while many of my associates have a more generalized, utilitarian angle. And be assured, my persuasion is not always or even mostly superior. I'm writing this in part to acknowledge my short-comings, relay the lessons of the process, and give credit where it's due. We all access the trade differently, and each path brings valuable problem-solving insight.

My background has slowly but surely served me, yet not without friction. Moving out of the shop, the small details often must yield to the big picture. And in residential settings, with clients understandably concerned about the work they paid for, they get to decide what details take precedent. This is a great opportunity to practice tolerance, and to do good work within parameters. The installation and renovation mindset can clash with a textbook and theory-based approach, but they can coexist. And that balance is what I'm seeking in the journey.

Recently entering the world of remodeling full-time, I've given up a measure of control I've had in a bench positions at various production wood shops. And a measure of predictability and quality control as well. On-site work is not my specialty (as of yet), but amid the sacrifice of switching lanes, I saw the chance to improve the whole package. And as an increasingly more likely "lifer" in this industry, I need to put in that time to address blind spots. I'll never be younger.

Day to day, I am not always able to execute at the level of precision I desire in my personal work. Nor should I expect to. The fundamentals I learned in concentrated shop settings are valuable, but must be tempered in the field. I can be persnickety about details that don't serve the project as a whole. And that perspective can inherently despise certain compromises which have to be made in scrappy settings, i.e., most remodel crews. The limitations of working to improve an imperfect space you did not build or design are obvious. Inherent to on-site work are many challenges that must - in time - be comfortably tolerated, if not embraced.

On-site, the rules quickly change. Deadlines are paramount and dictate the pace more than almost any other factor. The ideal tool is not always available for each task - nor the workspace conducive to quality - so improvisation is at the top of the job description. The variables under your control shrink drastically, and you are limited (or at least impinged upon) by every other trade that has touched your area of work. Or by what a homeowner has tinkered with. My early gleanings are that each annoying problem in a house - sometimes compounded by failed attempts at repair, original carelessness, or just age - are opportunities to solve rather than simply translate issues.

Renovations have already provided the most robust test of skills and patience so far in my carpentry journey. Basically, you need to know something of everything. In an occupation which commonly gets conflated with being a handyman, it's hard to get around the broad nature of our business. Skewed client (and even designer!) expectations of how much much work is required to achieve a "simple" result don't help the head-spinning breadth of our daily tasks. You have to "make it work," even when someone else's prior work makes that difficult. As I've mentioned, making it work and making it attractive are different pursuits, but they can marry.

As I've done my best to lean into the extreme mixture and seemingly incongruent assignments facing my team daily, I've realized more than ever that there's no substitute for a baptism by fire. As much as I'd like to avoid that type of education, this industry loves fire! Or at least that's simply the situation the market has put us in. So my current goal involves touching as many aspects of construction as possible, and decreasing the amount of projects that are a first. Cross-training is helpful, especially as a remodeler and finish carpenter, when fixing mistakes is a continual task. Knowledge of the original installation process, be it in framing, cabinetry, stairs, doors, etc., makes possible the correction and improvement of much inadequate work.

Repeated exposure is good medicine for fear in this job. Continuing to show up to job-sites with intimidating responsibilities is the best and most courageous step while learning. And a supportive team is essential; I would have already washed out apart from that. Choosing your coworkers is as valuable as your tools.

Diversifying my skill set through remodeling is already worth the switching costs, and all the money I've spent expanding the tool chest. Going on a detour from your sweet spot is exacting and sometimes maddening, but profitable. I feel that I can be a better furniture maker and fine woodworker because of the perspective. I've already learned that I can practice in the realm of renovation, an art as much as science. And I can bring my craftsmanship with me. I must.