We Ain’t Buildin’ Pianos

It is fair to say that if there is a single image that comes to mind which epitomizes the act of home building in America it would involve some form of carpentry. After all, the overwhelming majority of new and existing homes in this country are constructed using the “stick-frame” method, that is, the basic structures of perimeter and interior walls, elevated floor decks, ceilings and roof assemblies are built in this manner.

And even in those residences that heavily utilize other types of materials such as light gauge steel, concrete, stone, and other varieties of masonry, structural insulated panels, engineered wood products, solid logs, cross-laminated timbers, or some combination of these, there are almost always significant parts of the building that involve dimensional wood framing and framing carpenters, or framers.

There are other categories of carpenters, of course. Finish carpenters and trim carpenters are essential in the fine work of completing the project. The two labels are often used interchangeably today but traditionally, trim carpenters worked primarily indoors installing moldings, trims, sills and other kinds of decorative elements while finish carpenters might be found doing the fine work on the exterior, including facias, soffits, door and window casings and architectural detailing.

Joiners are yet another traditional category of carpenters. They specialize in combining wood elements with joints exact enough to connect pieces of the material to one another without the use of nails, screws, or other fasteners. In days gone by these craftsmen might also construct furnishings, the doors and windows for the building, and not infrequently, the cabinets, millwork and shelving that provides storage within. Timber framing, still practiced to exacting standards, also deserves a mention.

Other specialties of the trade once included rough carpenters, who often worked with rough-sawn timbers to build everything from bridge supports to scaffolding, as well as framing; ship carpenters to build watercraft of all kinds; joisters, who were responsible for the platforms comprised of floor joists and even roofing carpenters. These last two roles have been largely replaced by the advent of engineered wood trusses that are assembled off-site and delivered to the job site ready to be installed, or “rolled”, generally by the framing crew.

In my experience, I have found that the finish/trim carpenters, along with the electricians, usually seemed to be the most detail-oriented of all the trades on the job. Although to be fair, the wide range of product choices and ever-advancing levels of complexity, technology and sophisticated performance requirements of modern systems has resulted in plumbers and mechanical contractors being required to greatly expand their knowledge and expertise as well.  

Still, the carpenters that executed the final steps in the project, both interior and exterior, would leave behind the layer of the work that everyone would see for as long as the building stands, and so they had to be the most meticulous, although cabinet makers may well be in a class of their own. These days, though, the vast majority of cabinets are shop-built, pre-finished, and delivered to the project as modular components which are then installed and “hung” by specialists.

I have deliberately omitted mention of those who specialize in stair building, which I consider to be an art form. This is my personal favorite of all the carpentry related activities because it requires a mastery of three-dimensional geometry blended with certainty of structural integrity and aesthetic execution for what oftentimes results in the centerpiece of a project. To me, stair building is the essence of the art and science of building.

I’ve often referred to construction as “the most conspicuously consumptive peacetime activity known to man.” And it could be argued that the phase of framing a house and even many commercial buildings, which can occupy a few days, or weeks, or even months in some cases, presents the most visible and recognizable stage of construction.

Almost anyone passing by, whether on foot, in an automobile or other conveyance, understands that the project is fully underway and can, with varying accuracy, gauge the progress for themselves. It is also noisy, frequently chaotic, and it requires a great volume and vast variety of materials, which often seem randomly scattered all over the job site.

The majority of the framing carpenters I have known are physically rugged, task oriented and bear an independent mindset. Success for a framer, both the contractor and the individual workman, is generally predicated on a combination of accuracy and speed, with a good deal of emphasis on the latter. Compensation for framing labor is based on dollars per square foot, so the more rapidly a building gets framed the better the financial outcome for all involved.

At the same time, every phase of construction that follows the framing depends on a well-built skeletal structure that is plumb, level, square and straight. The efficiencies gained by getting the job right on the first try are critical.

A residential framing contractor might have a crew of as few as three or four and as many as eight, or so, on any one job site, and in many cases, he runs the entire operation and works right alongside the rest of the crew. These crews are usually made up of mostly young men, in their twenties and thirties, but it is not uncommon for the crew to be led by a much older tradesman.

Traditionally, framing crews rarely included female workers, although that is beginning to change slowly as more women find employment in the construction industry.

Oftentimes, the labor pool for framers in somewhat seasonal and transient. Experienced framers who have their own tools and acceptable skills are always in demand, so they are not necessarily concerned about long-term employment. Many value their independence and freedom to move on when they feel the urge. In a healthy market they can make a good wage, bank a little money, and then take time off to pursue other interests.

Framing involves a familiar set of standard practices and terminology, without a lot of variation, so it is an activity comprised mostly of interchangeable parts. Additionally, the work does not require much beyond a modest investment in tools and equipment, and therefore it is not uncommon to know framers who work a few weeks, take off for a while to ski or surf or hunt, and then come back around with their tool belts looking for more work when they’re running low on funds.

At framing stage, a building site is a loud, frantic place. There are the sounds of power saws whining, hammer blows smacking, one or more compressors generating air pressure for pneumatic nail guns, and lots of shouting.

In bygone days all of these noisy elements would be overpowered by a huge “boom box” or truck radio cranking out classic rock music for hours on end. Mercifully, the adoption of personal sound equipment in the form of headphones and ear buds has replaced many of the loudspeakers that could be heard more than a block away.

As is the case with many occupations, framing offers listeners a set of common terms and phrases, not all of which are PG rated. One of the ubiquitous declarations intended to energize and speed up the crew could be heard when the lead man, convinced that they weren’t moving fast enough, would admonish them by yelling, “We ain’t buildin’ pianos here!” The meaning is easily understood, that speed cannot be sacrificed for the sake of craftsmanship.

A tantalizing dichotomy emerges from the realization that a loose knit team of burly individuals with hammers, who are paid by the hour, and whose work, if it is done well, will never be seen again in their lifetimes, are essential to the process of assembling a completed product which is fully intended to remain standing for decades and is ultimately valued by substantial dollars per square foot.

Building pianos, without debate, is reserved only for those who aspire to the highest levels of excellence. It is mastered by a select few who possess the special set of qualities and temperament required by such a demanding craft. Those framing a house rarely enjoy the training, expertise, patience, creativity, and least of all, the time, to engage in such an exacting activity.

Occasionally someone on our crew would use the phrase, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, to elicit a chuckle from everyone, and whenever that occurred, I would take advantage of the opportunity to restate our commitment to quality by responding, “No, but it’s alright if other people believe we are.” We weren’t building pianos, but no one else needed to know that.