Since the advent of woodworking, mortise-and-tenon, dovetail, and dado joints have been holding the wooden world together. Barns built two centuries ago, still standing despite decades of neglect and exposure to the brutalities of weather, are held together using the same joinery. The furniture we build for the interior of churches should sustain significantly less abuse than those old barns... we hope...
Wood is *word of the day* hygroscopic. With changes in humidity, it expands and contracts. Traditional joinery developed to allow for this movement. How the lumber was sawn, what part of the tree it came from, and what species it is all affect how the wood behaves when it is turned into furniture. To avoid straying too far into the weeds, it should simply be said that it is crucial that the joiner know his material intimately.
Using traditional joinery allows for strength, beauty, and longevity. Having designed the pieces so that they won’t go out of style, I build them to stand the test of time. Any survey of antique furniture will show, however, that wood often does the unexpected in spite of the best joinery. Cracks open. Glue fails. Flaws appear. A benefit of working with real wood, though, is that it can be repaired.
Endearing flaws, though, give a piece character. Just ask Kelly how often I have gleefully exclaimed when I found some molding that didn’t quite match or a discrepancy in a carving, or some grain tearout on the back of a piece or some other “flaw” that tells me that this piece was made by hand out of real wood… She’ll sigh and make a face like the one in her profile picture… but inside she’s really as excited as I am… almost… but don't get her started about the lace on the altar cloth or the embroidery on the chasuble...