Preservation Carpentry
Ian Stewart
Ian Stewart
Historic Preservation Carpentry students in front of The Round Stone Barn at Hancock Shaker Village, Pittsfield, MA
The goal of all life on this planet is to pass things on, from the genetics we carry, to the knowledge of where the best water is, or the migratory path south, all life conveys knowledge to the next generation. This is the very essence of evolution, and while much of it happens genetically, and subconsciously, some of the most important, especially for humanity, happens quite deliberately. It is our accumulated knowledge that has allowed us as a species to achieve all that we have. And yet, in times of rapid advancement we have a tendency to abandon the past in favor of the future. This is not intrinsically wrong, but in our overwhelming desire to forge ahead, we often abandon things of value.
Mind you, I am no devoted Luddite; I am writing this on my laptop, and answering calls on my cell phone. Yet I firmly believe that there is infinite value in the skills that can be found in the preservation trades. I have been fortunate, I have had amazing teachers, both academic and professional. And so, as I slid towards the latter end of my second decade in the preservation trades, it was time to begin to pay that teaching back, beyond the usual demonstrations, talks, and of course the time spent with my apprentice and the occasional intern.
Two years ago, I was approached by someone from the New York State Historic Preservation Office, who had been organizing a preservation trades “track” in conjunction with Hudson Valley Community College, and the Historic Albany Foundation. They asked whether I might be interested in developing a Historic Preservation Carpentry (HPC) class, and of course I said yes. So, I began to look at how I would shape this class. Would it be just one section? Would I break it up into multiple sections? At this point, HPC1 is complete, and I’m beginning to wrap my mind around HPC2 and HPC3. The deeper I got into figuring out how to teach both preservation and carpentry, the more complex the task seemed. How could I take years of hands-on learning and boil it down to 40 credit hours? How could I compress all those preservation theory, philosophy and law classes that I took in grad school into something easily digestible and accessible to my students? It took me several months to get the syllabus for HPC1 developed, and at each step it was put up for suggestion and edits by the NYS SHPO.
And then came the first day of class, with eleven students ranging in age from their late twenties to their fifties. About a third were working tradespeople, a third were historic homeowners and a third were from the paperwork side of preservation who wanted a more brick-and-mortar experience. Class began, I started going through my slides and introducing them to concepts like Didron’s Maxim; “It is better to preserve than to repair, better to repair than to restore, better to restore than to reconstruct.” And as I spoke and asked questions of them, the conversation began to be more free flowing. We spoke of gentrification, and the death of trades in a service economy. I told them about the pleasure of joining your hands in an unbroken chain with tradespeople from centuries before, and the satisfaction of knowing that with the help of your work a building that has been there for three hundred years be there for another three hundred years.
Over the weeks, as I taught the students form and style, construction methods, and the Secretary of the Interior’s Standards, I began to see a change in them. I caught conversations before and after class about houses and neighborhoods. Suddenly I could see in them the fire of preservation, and yet, when I saw them pick up hand tools and shape a tenon, I saw even more. People who had never worked wood in that way, and did not believe they could do it, found that they could, and that is a smile well worth it, I assure you. And slowly, imperceptibly, a change began in me. I had always believed in the power of teaching and of the trades, and suddenly I was filled with a new fire. Trades education was not just an alternative to a college degree but a force for good. In urban environments where jobs are few but old buildings are many, teaching people to work on the buildings around them gives them not only a living, but also agency and control over their own surroundings, their built environment.
Trades education is not only a way to connect to the past, and protect the buildings of the past, it is a way to ensure our future. And I now know that several of the students have already begun looking at and bidding on preservation carpentry projects which leaves me with more hope for the future.
05/28/2019 Ian Stewart