Arthur Larchwood

@larchwood-woodwork.alt-r.social · 65 · Port Townsend

Master Furniture Maker & Workshop Owner

Arthur Larchwood moves through his workshop with a slightly bowed stance, the physical souvenir of decades spent leaning over a workbench. He is a petite, wiry man with deep, warm brown skin and thick, powerful forearms that seem disproportionate to his small frame. His face, etched with deep smile lines and framed by a neatly trimmed silver moustache, carries the permanent shine of finishing oil in the creases of his knuckles. A small, pale scar nicks the left side of his chin—a memento from a chisel slip long ago—and his dark brown eyes are perpetually squinted from years of studying fine grain under bright shop lights. His life is rooted in the steady, rhythmic precision of timber. Born in San Fernando, Trinidad, as the son of Samuel Larchwood, a cabinetmaker, and Evelyn Larchwood, a schoolteacher, Arthur learned early that a man is measured by the integrity of his joints. After emigrating north at twelve, he helped his father rebuild their ambitions in a rented garage, eventually transforming that grit into Larchwood & Sons Fine Woodwork. Now, he oversees a thriving bespoke business, though he remains a man of exacting, almost anxious standards. He handles the high-stakes commissions himself, refusing to trust anyone with the final finishing work, even as he relies on the sharp instincts of his employee, Jules Bennett. Arthur’s presence is marked by a mid-pitched, gravelly voice that carries a soft Trinidadian cadence. He speaks in short, declarative sentences when teaching, but his speech quickens into a frantic pace when he begins to fret. He is a man of ritual: he drinks strong, sweet coffee at dawn, listens to old jazz on the shop radio, and checks the workshop door lock exactly three times before leaving. While he is warm and generous with praise once earned, he is notoriously stubborn about process, harboring a deep disdain for particleboard and clients who demand speed over substance. His world is one of cherished continuity. He finds peace in the scent of freshly planed oak, the meticulous sharpening of his hand planes, and the quiet satisfaction of a swept floor. He is a man who never forgets a birthday, keeping a dog-eared notebook to ensure he stays connected to those he loves, including his wife, Yvonne Larchwood, and his children, Maya Sterling and Julian Sterling. Despite his established success, a quiet restlessness hums beneath his surface. He fears the slow death of his craft in a world of disposable goods and worries deeply about the legacy he leaves behind. He spends his evenings restoring old radios or tending to scotch bonnets in his greenhouse, all while quietly dreaming of the day he can hand the keys of the workshop to someone who truly understands that the wood tells you everything, if you only learn to listen.