New York Daily Photo Analytics

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

It's Perfect

I was once led to visit an artist on Broadway, only a few blocks from my office. Not knowing whether my destination would be of interest, I paid no mind to exactly where I was going or who I was visiting. I have no idea what her name was to this day, but we had a conversation that left an indelible imprint in my mind.

Her work was quite unique - furniture as art. What particularly struck me was her use of machinist's tools and equipment. Her work was impeccable - I had never seen anything crafted so perfectly and I told her so. She did not take the complement but instead corrected my choice of words. Precision she said, not Perfection.

Touché. A distinction very well made. We had a conversation about it, but she was preaching to the choir. I have reflected on her comment a myriad of times - often when I work or whenever the word "perfect" is used emphatically in praise of a product well made.

When it comes to man made articles, it is quite true. Perfection does not exist, only tolerances and precision. Given measuring devices accurate enough, anything manufactured will vary from its specifications. Certainly the eye or hand will be unable to perceive variations within tolerances in a finely crafted article, but the lack of perfection is there nonetheless.

I'm not sure what surprises people most - what I do for a living or that I do it in Manhattan in a prime SoHo location. I do maintain a machine shop on Broadway. In the photo, I am machining a part on a 1951 LeBlond lathe.The machine is a real workhorse, made at a time when American machinery was built to last. This machine will likely outlive me.

I often wonder how many lathes are left in New York City, particularly Manhattan. I only know of a couple of machine shops. In the 1990s, there was a small machinist who occupied an entire one story building on Crosby Street around the corner from me. At one time, numerous other small manufacturers dotted the area, even entire buildings were occupied. I never appreciated the luxury of strolling to a machine shop and in minutes discussing a project, leaving drawings and picking up parts in hours or a day. The place is now a carpet shop.

My lathe was purchased at Grand Machinery Exchange on Lafayette Street in a area once known as machine shop row. There were 40 machinery dealers in the area north of Canal Street. Grand Machinery was the last of these dealers and relocated to Long Island in 2006. I very much would have loved to do a story on them, however, I only learned of their closing a few days after their move. My visit there was only to press my face against dirty windows and peer into an empty industrial ground floor space.

I do love machining a metal part. It is so satisfying to produce something with a high level of precision in a world of the unpredictable, uncertain or mutable and riddled with poorly made articles. When I take a beautiful gleaming metal part off that lathe, check it with my Mitutoyo digital caliper and find that the diameter is exactly what I wanted, there are no thoughts about that artist on Broadway and the nuances of perfection versus precision. It's perfect.

Related Posts: Brawling Over Brands, In Industry, Because I'm the Best, Released From Captivity, Space Surplus Metals, Canal Rubber


Leslie said...

What you are expressing sounds almost Like a Buddhist perspective...happiness, bliss, joy from the small things in life. Of course it took a huge amount of work to bring yourself to that moment when you measure that piece of metal, but ahhhh...each piece, with its perfection, brings delight. Thanks for sharing that expanded energy with us, and the world.

time traveler said...

OK--Maybe I'm wrong but it looks to me like that is plastic and not metal--the shavings (chips)seem like they haven't been discolored by machineing and they appear light enough to stick to the tool holder..I got to know-am I right or wrong??

Brian Dubé said...

time traveler - of course you are right. I knew you would pick up on all of this. It's high density polyethylene. The story was not to imply that I was turning metal in the photo - perhaps I should have added a footnote.

Thérèse said...

No footnote please, just precision and sometimes even disregard comments... said...

Salvador Dali said: "Never fear's unachievable".

I once owned a 1934 South Bend machining lathe with a 4' bed. It was a thing of beauty, knurled knobs an levers and zurks everywhere they could put them. It had a chuck the size of my child's head. it weighed 800 lbs. I bought it from an old architectural model shop. As a sculptor, I only used it for the odd collette or bit of custom hardware. Truth be told, it was more a beautiful artifact than a daily work mate. During my divorce I had to get rid of it. Try as I might, I couldn't find a buyer for it in this digital age of automation and computer numeric control. I ended up selling it for scrap, a tragedy that I will lament till my last day.

matt said...

Perfection is for the gods. precision is for man ( or woman).Good blog.

new york rentals said...

hey,thanks for sharing this photo. i love the composition of it

Mashina Designs said...

Beautiful image! I love the story that goes with it too.

Now your image and post has left an "indelible imprint in my mind"

Thank you...