|
Classic Designs with Refinement Sauer & Steiner tools are cast solidly in the great infill-making traditions set by Stewart Spiers and Thomas Norris. And while Sauer's tools are unapologetic tributes to these great planes, they have a distinct personality that clearly is the product of Sauer's upbringing, training and artistic talents. You can see this in the details of the entire Sauer & Steiner line. The Sauer & Steiner No. A1 panel plane is a good example. At first glance it looks like a pretty faithful Norris No. A1. But then you get a good look at the front bun. The bun on a Norris is nice enough: sculptural, sinuous and nice to hold. The front bun on the Sauer & Steiner is something else entirely: There is a small and perfect fillet that traces a square on the top of the bun. The curve on the bun's sides is more symmetrical in size and shape. And the corners are astoundingly crisp. Despite all the extra shapes on the modern bun, it is just as comfortable to hold as the classic Norris. Side by side, the Sauer & Steiner front bun makes the Norris's look like the knob on a barn door in comparison. This isn't supposed to be a criticism of Norris planes – they were mass-produced (and very expensive) English planes. But it shows that Sauer's woodworking skills flow through his work in an unusually high fashion. In fact, it is his affection for, sourcing of, and skills with wood that distinguish his tools from other makers past and present.
Konrad Sauer's
planes are distinguished by The metalwork I've examined on Sauer & Steiner tools is universally flawless, despite the fact that he doesn't have any dedicated metalworking tools in his Kitchener, Ontario, shop. But what is most surprising is the consistency in all the tools that come out of his shop, in design and workmanship. They all look like the same "brand" of tool with little details that are shared among the jointer, smoother and panel planes. This "branding" of the Sauer & Steiner line is no accident. And to understand how Sauer's line of planes evolved, it helps to go back – way back – to follow the development of this toolmaker. A Fearless Geek As a student, Sauer describes himself as "the geeky kid who was always drawing things." And by the time he had gotten to high school, the art program and industrial arts program of his schools had become his two homes. In art class, he would come up with hair-brained ideas of things to try. And his industrial arts teacher would help him give it a go, whether it was welding or metal sculpture. The most important lesson Sauer learned there, he says, was that there is no harm in trying anything new. That lesson would become a key the first time Sauer picked up a hammer to peen together the metal shell of an infill plane. After graduating, Sauer didn't want to go to a university to get a traditional liberal-arts education. He ended up studying graphic design; when he completed the program he became an editorial illustrator at a newspaper, then worked in packaging and finally landed as an art director at an advertising and communications company, where he worked almost 10 years. The years he spent as an art director proved surprisingly valuable to Sauer in his latest profession. As an art director at a small company, Sauer learned a great deal about the business world and he worked with countless other businesses and watched them thrive, survive and sometimes fail. He learned how to treat suppliers. "Even now, whenever I go to pick up materials, I bring my checkbook and pay them right then," he says. "That is good business." Dealing with clients honed his interviewing skills – he spends as long as two hours with a potential tool-buying customer to find out exactly what he or she needs for their work. Designing websites, television commercials and entire media campaigns honed his marketing skills – the Sauer & Steiner website and brochure would make some Fortune 500 companies jealous. Once Sauer started building
furniture, he caught the attention of Canadian Home Workshop
magazine, and he started writing for them on the side. Then
Evans – the man who sold Sauer his first infill – made a fateful
request in 2001. He asked Sauer to do some demonstrations at a
woodworking show at Durham. Evans also asked a man named Joe
Steiner to demonstrate at the show. Sauer and Steiner were across the hall from one another during the show and they hit it off quite well. During that same show, the show's attendees showed an enormous interest in the infill planes on display. After the show, Sauer, Steiner, Evans, Ben Knebel and Dave Shepherd got together and started wondering if there was a market for a modern 21st-century infill. Evans, Knebel and Shepherd thought that a kit would be a good idea – they went on to found the Shepherd Tool Co., which makes infill plane kits, finished infills and other tools. Sauer and Steiner were more interested in building finished planes for themselves. "Joe and I went our own way," Sauer says. "We threw money in our own pot, sat back and had to figure out how in the hell these things were made." Mystery No 1: dovetailing the steel sidewalls to the sole. "Dovetailing metal seemed insane," Sauer says. "But it turned out to be the easy part. You have to remember: Joe made teeth for a living; I was an art director." They made their first set of planes. Though each tool was based on a Spiers smoothing plane, each plane looked different. "We put them together," Sauer says. "His felt like crap to me. Mine felt like crap to him. But then it became obvious to me: We were building tools suited for one user." Someone liked what she saw and asked the guys to build one for her. They gave her a price ($1,000) and braced themselves for rejection. But it didn't come; instead she said: "Great, when can you start?" Sauer & Steiner were in the planemaking business.
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
