Our New Normal, Volume X

On this mid-February Wednesday morning, each of the four guys in attendance is busy at work creating a mahogany lap desk similar to that upon which Thomas Jefferson reputedly wrote the Declaration of Independence and which now resides at the Smithsonian.

Amidst the sounds of planing and sanding punctuated by the very loud (and thankfully brief) buzz of a table saw, Steve proudly displayed one of his FCF I (fall-term) student’s renderings: a square-topped end table with tapered legs constructed from scratch in the design of George Hepplewhite, an 18th Century British cabinetmaker.

“This is their foundational project,” Steve explained. “It’s a real piece of furniture that they can take home. You can always find a use for it. It’s often given as a gift and can stay in their family for generations.”

In addition to the two upper-level offerings, Steve also teaches Middle School woodworking. Seventh graders take the class as part of their fine arts rotation. It’s an eighth-grade elective and a fifth- and sixth-grade activities period opportunity. The myriad projects include such creations as cutting boards, trays, and walking sticks.

How has COVID affected the woodworking classes? I asked. In other words, what’s your new normal?

“Over the summer, we worked with the administration and the school nurse about how we would handle the many small tools that the students touch,” Steve replied. “We looked at the science and determined that if they used the tools for a certain number of minutes, cleaning is handled one way. If they used them for a longer period of time, cleaning is handled another way. At the end of the class, we wipe down all the major touch points. In past years, I would say, ‘Pick up anything and everything, look at it, turn it upside down, let’s talk about it.’ Now, I tell students, ‘Don’t touch anything you don’t need to touch.’”

Distancing guidelines are definitely in effect.

“The hypotenuse of these tables is over six feet,” he said, pointing to the opposite corners of a work bench. “By design, we can have a student here, a student here. It used to be that we could have four students at a table. We have to constantly remind them (to maintain spacing), just like in every aspect of the school.”

How have you taught a hands-on course when we’ve gone remote? I asked.

“It depends,” Steve responded. “In Middle School classes, we talked about subject matter that we often don’t get into, such as period antiques and period designers like Thomas Sheraton, Thomas Chippendale, and George Hepplewhite.  We looked at how you tell a genuine piece of furniture from a reproduction.

“In Upper School classes, we have greater latitude to use hand tools at home. To that end, thinking that we may go remote at any point in the fall, I had each student make a work bench and take it home. Each student took a vise home. We got permission to use a range of woodworking tools at home when I wasn’t physically present.”

Sounds like you’ve carried on as normally as possible despite the adjustments? I offered.

“That’s right,” Steve replied. “There’s so much academics related to the discipline of woodworking and historical aspects of the craft and the art that we haven’t missed a beat.”

A 1978 Collegiate graduate, Steve began his professional journey as an attorney, then returned to his alma mater in 1999 as planned giving officer. He’s also coached track (primarily sprinters) and cross country throughout his tenure on North Mooreland Road.

With the completion of the H2L2 Studios contiguous to the Hershey Center in 2013, he shifted much of his focus from the Development Office to the art department and expanded the woodworking offerings.

The career change of sorts is a normal progression for Steve, who took a Colonial Woodworking elective as a Collegiate student and never looked back.

Along the way, he built (with his father, Dr. Philip R. Hart, a religion professor at the University of Richmond) a waterfront house in Deltaville.

“I knew how to build a table,” Steve said with a smile, “but not a house.”

He figured it out, though, enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment as well as the view but ultimately sold the property. 

During the past 20 years, he’s indulged his passion by (almost) singlehandedly expanding two houses in Richmond. The first project was a two-story addition on his (and his wife Ann’s) home on Kensington Avenue which took three-and-a-half years. The second, a five-year undertaking, was a family room on the back of their Stuart Avenue residence.

“Had somebody come in and lay the hardwood flooring and farmed out the sheet rock,” he said. “That’s two percent of building a house. We did everything else.”

While woodworking involves an expenditure of physical energy, there’s also a cerebral element. That’s what Steve attempts to convey to his students.

“People sometimes ask why we have this type of program in a rigorous college preparatory school,” he said.  “We’re not training students to be carpenters, per se, or teaching them just to build boxes or tables. That’s only the outward manifestation. We’re teaching them lessons that relate to patience, planning, and pace. You can’t do this work if you aren’t willing to plan, be patient, and slow your pace. Those three areas are certainly present in other academic areas and in life.

“So the purpose is not so much about building a table. It’s to go through the process of building a table. It’s all the important areas of aesthetics that go along with the effort.”
~ Weldon Bradshaw