Publications

Pacific Sun
September 15 - September 21, 1999

OVERHEARD

When I was a Cub Scout in the dark, distant past, my "home-crafted" Pinewood Derby race car looked like a little four-wheeled casket next to the aerodynamically sculpted wonders other kids devised. Ran like one, too. Later on, my high school wood shop projects were similar masterpieces of, shall we say, understatement. Nothing's changed in adulthood.

The point is, if you need something built out of wood, give me a call. I'll check the Yellow Pages and get right back to you. A thorough inventory of my chromosomes wouldn't turn up a single carpenter gene. (Like father, like son. Dad was a confirmed Yellow Pages man, too.)

But such ineptitude breeds appreciation. Recently I ran across a local artisan whose work with exotic hardwoods is truly inspirational. Meet my diametric opposite on the skills continuum: His name is Griffin Okie. (Great last name for a woodworker, eh?)

He's a Yale grad and Vietnam vet who bolted the corporate world to be his own boss after a six-month stint with Crocker Bank. In 1972, he and a friend opened a store called Dovetail on Union Street in San Francisco. They sold handmade woodwork, weavings and other hippie crafts.

As "Grif" became increasingly enamored of wood furniture, he decided to cash in the highly profitable business and make tables. Not altogether successfully at first. To some extent he was winging it. Like me, Okie didn't grow up steeped in woodworking expertise. But his passion for fine woods drove him to parlay an eighth-grade-shop-level grasp of the basics into a full-blown creative endeavor.

"My fascination with wood made me persevere. I've had to keep pushing myself to learn," he told me at his San Rafael workshop last week.

Just how much this guy loves wood can't be overstated. He's got trailers full: elm, bay, koa, walnut, eucalyptus, mahogany, cherry, oak, acacia, olive, on and on. Nearly all of it comes from fallen trees and timber cleared by developers. During a quick tour of the 2,000-square-foot work space, Grif stopped several times to wax wonderstruck over a particular slab or stash.

"When a guy comes by with a truckload of that," he said, admiring a stack of California walnut, "I mortgage my house to buy it." He was kidding, of course. I think.

From these choice hardwoods once destined for landfills, Okie and his longtime assistant Leo fashion tables, desks, chests, inlaid boxes and other items of simple, functional elegance. They use no glue or fasteners, preferring to employ old-style, wood-to-wood joinery techniques. Book-matched grain surfaces are another specialty. It's beautiful, world-class stuff; Okie's list of clients includes plenty of deep-pockets, corporate hotshots for whom price is no object.

Klutzoids like yours truly can take heart in Grif's admission that even guys with the knack cuss and fuss on occasion.

"It's a day-to-day struggle to achieve perfection," he said. "It doesn't come easily and a lot of mistakes are made. It's always a challenge to keep yourself, your tools and your employees focused. The measure of a good craftsman is how well he fixes his mistakes."

Where does a master look for inspiration? Funny you should ask. This Friday evening at the Underground Gallery in San Rafael (415/454-1073), the California Contemporary Craft Association honors Art Espenet Carpenter, a venerable Bolinas craftsman and mentor to Grif and an honor roll of Northern California artists. In celebration of Carpenter's 80th birthday, examples of his work, along with pieces by Okie and numerous other prize protégés, will be exhibited through October 8.

Contact Griffin W. Okie Hardwood Design at 415/456-7456, or via e-mail at okiewood@aol.com