I was farm-raised in the Texas panhandle with making things in my blood: my Dutch ancestors were shipbuilders in New Amsterdam. A BS degree from Texas Tech in landscape architecture, while practiced briefly, provided me with design and drawing skills, and a glimpse into the world of forms-- in nature, classicism, and the endless variety of styles.
I moved from Austin to Tuscon about 1971, without a dime, to join a fellow woodworker. In one sense poverty became an advantage. With a minimum of power tools, I assiduously collected fine hand tools at the flea market, and books and knowledge, to practice furnituremaking “the old way”, along with skills in the many trades I had interest in. In elaborate work as seen here, alongside the machine operations, comes the indispensable application of the razor-sharp plane, chisel, and carving-gouge.
I built my first complete bar for the Tuscon Athletic Club: a sleek, boat-like concave oak bar with a fine mahogany top. As far as I know it's still there, but I never got any decent pictures. That job likely started my focus on the idea of bar-as-centerpiece. This was a presumed concept in the not-so-distant past, and for centuries. In hotels, restaurants, and clubs, the pride of place was expressed in the focal point of relaxation, cordiality, and service: the bar. In our hasty world of plastic and cubicle, I would like to see the warmth of fine woodwork return to that environment.
I moved back to the Austin area in 1976 and set up my evolving shop, and was fortunate to obtain the barwork I refer to as the Treehouse. The owner liked my sketches, looked at some samples, and I went to the Brooklyn shipyard for a truckload of Thai rosewood and zebrawood from Cameroons. I suppose I was looking at a lot of Deco/nouveau then: concave-conical front, convex stemware canopy, leather armrest, elliptical bevelled mirrors. It was a celebrated piece.
The other bar featured here I call the Texana. This is selected Longleaf pine - the beautiful, resinous, almost extinct slow-growth pine of the old southern forest. Lumber is now obtained from demolition, and in dwindling supply. While troublesome to work, the opportunities for grain-matching and contrasts are all adventure. For Texana - in a private facility on Sam Houston's old ranch at Washington-on-Brazos - I turned to more classical features, housing urns in semicircular alcoves, plinth and frieze. Here I developed shaper cutters to produce a handrail which leaves no inside corner joint, a boon to the bartender, as well as pleasing the eye. Several other bars are around, the Fredericksburg Brewing Co., etc., these being the most well photographed, and the most complete; a complete bar has a bar, backbar, and stemware canopy.
Typically a fine custom bar is a "one-off", although multiples or twins are feasible.

















