No, but I’ll bet you’ll find it in the Pentagon.  As I recall, Rummy works standing up.  Doesn’t seem to help his thought processes any, though.

5560.  For that.  I am in the wrong dern business.  Heck, I could do that for 1/10th that cost.  Or less.  And cut better dovetails, thank you very much. Like everything else, you’re paying for the label.  Sick.

I did order a catalog, though.  They’re good designs, I could definitely use some furniture, and the local 84 Lumber is right up the road. 

-d.

It’s a nice desk, but I’m thinking I’d want my $5,500. to buy more than that.

I guess it’s not just me, then. For $5560 I’d want a lot more shiny wood. This is the sort of desk that Norm Abram would build, probably with equal or greater skill, and sell it for at least half that price.

Linkmeister, Rummy doesn’t think well standing or sitting. But whatever floats his boat. I’m sure he wouldn’t choose a desk like this, though—it’s not grand enough to serve his ego.

Dissenting opinion:

Although one can’t tell from the absolutely shoddy pictures (why someone who makes highest-quality furniture has such crummy photos on their site is absolutely beyond me), I’ve seen similar desks for quite a bit more than 5000.

I’ve had a life-long pasion for furniture (Scandinavian functional design of the 30s until end 60s ... and sometimes beyond) and quality work demands premium prices.

Consider the time that goes into making such a desk (I don’t know all the English words, but depending on the wood used, the interlocking techniques, the precision needed to produce something you can offer a lifetime-guarantee for, etc. etc.) $5000 is actually cheap.

Case in point. I have two chairs which were made by Boerge Mogensen (Danish) in the 1950s and they cost a lot more (and look even less like they could cost that much) ... but, they are also made so well that even today they look a) like they’re new and b) have survived any fashion fads of the past 50 plus years to fit with anything I put next to them.

Incidentally, Mogensen also spent I don’t know how many years refining the design (just those hours must be worth a fortune) until he started producing them in limited quantity. That costs!

You’d be absolutely astonished what some desks similar to this one would cost if produced by some of the top-notch Scandinavian furniture makers that almost exclusively produce functional tried- and tested designs from the best talents 1930s and beyond. $5000 won’t get you a seat cover there!

Last, but not least, do remember that if you are passionate about this stuff, the likelihood that you will be getting rid of a piece of furniture like that equals zilch. My chairs will accompany me to my grave and I have already ordered custom-made racks for my hearse.

In short: furniture like that is for old conservative farts like me, who either save for years to get it or are too poor to redecorate their places every few years and buy quality stuff once ... and that’s it.

One more: I “inherited” a 30s sofa which already then cost nearly $4.000. Today, on the second-hand market, it easily commands around $30.000 ... if you can find one produced around that time. Reason? Although they might look like they came from an upscale IKEA, they are so functional and well-made that they survived several generations of toddlers jumping around on them, beer-drinking Danes who have passed out on them (or worse), pets that have slept on them (or worse) and when put into a living room today they still immediately attract attention, displaying that sublime high-quality aura. They’ve been so in demand that they are almost impossible to find (unless you opt for a newer production run).

Yeah, I’m ramblin’ ...

P.S.: Back from holidays ... Cheers!

Welcome back, Volkher. I hope your holidays were relaxing and lots of fun.

Okay, I can see your point. And many of the designs on that website are very fine and, I’d wager, worth the price.

But this desk. It is a well known design here. Some call it a school master’s desk or a ship captain’s desk. The design is not uncommon. And I just can’t see this particular design being *that* special that it commands such a dear price. I love fine design and I love woodcraft. I love old pieces that stand the test of time. And I appreciate the craft and skill that go into making a fine piece. But I’m afraid I just can’t see it in this one. Which is why someone else will purchase it and love it and cherish it. I still think they’ll pay too much for what they’re getting. But if it makes them happy....

I just saw the post title and thought of Tim Hardin’s song “If I Were a Carpenter.” Here’s a link to a snippet by Darin performed at Amazon.

It is amazing the cost of some things and yes, Volkher makes lots of good points, but still.........and it could just be shoddy photography… We went to the DeYoung Museum while in SF and were amazed at some of the furniture that has stood the test of time--several pieces of which are very, very similar to pieces in my mom’s house that she is always trying to make me take.  Hmmm, maybe I should rethink my position.....

Checked your blog once I think while away, but not often enough, am busy catching up this morning.........

I HATE coming home from vacation--always have, home sweet home never seems to fit my mood!!  LOL

Welcome back, Cyn! I know, coming home from vacation is a letdown. It’s the rare person who says, “Man, I’m glad vacation is over!”

I’ve been kind of thinking about this furniture crafting thing. And the price of skill. I have a skewed viewpoint. My Dad was a very skillful and meticulous cabinetmaker. Fussy and exacting doesn’t begin to describe it. I have two beautiful pieces that he made—my bed and a gorgeous drop leaf cherry table. I was used to seeing him working in his workshop. I took his skill for granted. Probably saw it as less an art than ‘what he did in his spare time.’ He was a gifted cabinetmaker and yet I still think of it as something an average guy can do in his spare time. That’s obviously not fair to him or other cabinetmakers. In the past there have been knowledgable people who have offered astonishing amounts for a few of his pieces and we’ve declined. It’s not about money. But it does make me think a little bit. What was his time and skill really worth? Apparently a lot more than I ever imagined.

I value quality, the sum of skill (plus experience, which I guess results in skill) and time, highly. More so as I get older. To make a piece of furniture that lasts even under the most detrimental conditions is quite a feat.

Case in point. I bought a large dinner table (untreated natural wood which needs to be soaped regularly to keep the wood from drying out, resulting in a wonderful patina and almost indestructible surface after some years [plus: any problem can be sandpapered out easily]) from one of the highly praised Danish firms about 10 years ago. Cost an arm and a leg.

10 years down the road it turns out that their table is falling apart at one seam, exactly at the point that was praised by magazines that reviewed the new technique that was supposed to make these tables indestructible (when handled with the appropriate care).

Well, I consulted one of the most prominent French carpenters across the border in France (he restores the most expensive antique and modern furniture) and after studying the problem for what seemed to be an entire day, he just said that fixing the table would reuqire the construction of a “clamp” machine (I’m out of my water language-wise here) that could apply the incredible pressure needed to reset the table plate which consists of I don’t know how many layers of various types of wood.

95% of the table are in perfect shape, but without a tablecloth, any visitor can spot the crack from a mile away. Very unaesthetic, to say the least. But, if I keep a tablecloth on permanently, the wood will dry out. Catch 22.

So, I’m left with trashing the table or having it sent to Denmark (that thing is positively huge - it can be expanded by the use of a nifty built-in contraption so you can easily place 18 people around it and still have ample space to seat them comfortably) to MAYBE get it fixed by the manufacturer.

I’d rather golf to be perfectly honest.

So, they just did not have the experience necessary to manufacture a piece that could stand the test of time. And it’s my money out the window.

How disappointing, Volkher. A crack in a beloved piece is like a stake through the heart.

I guess the accumulation of experience adds to skill and pieces that are as solid and beautiful many years later as the day they left the shop. Wood changes with time or even with changes in the environment. A skilled (experienced) cabinetmaker can touch a piece of wood and understand it. To me, that’s kind of like magic.