I returned today to a topic that I initiated many months ago, a prematurely abbreviated draft too long neglected. This reflection on Tony’s thoughtful tung oil finishing of Ron’s ash table is the promised sequel to “Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table“, with a quick glimpse at how this handsome [future] heirloom has held up one year later.
Before diving in, my lengthy delay demands a quick re-introduction to Ron Bauer’s unique piece of functional art.
[Ron’s] small, multifunction bistro table… [was conceived as an] echo [to] the [icehouse’s ash and elm, stump-to-lumber] floor, affording another opportunity to enrich the character of this small interior with material that grew 50’ to 100’ from the icehouse.
(Source: Stump-to-Table: Ron’s Bistro Table)
Once the table was completed and acclimated on site, it was time for the labor intensive sanding and tung oil finish.
A single, small table designed in collaboration with Ron… and impeccably crafted by Ron is now receiving 8 to 12 hand applied coats of tung oil, courtesy of Tony Foster.
(Source: Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table)
The second photo above captures a just-before reminder of what Ron’s table looked like after Tony prepared it for application of the tung oil finish, and the third image above shows the beginning of the oiling process. 
[I instructed Tony to sand] the table’s underside, skirt, joinery, and legs with ultra fine (1500 grit) sand paper to remove any irregularities [carefully following, never crossing, the direction of the grain]…
(Source: Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table)
And then it was time for hand rubbing the tung oil finish into the wood. We opted to start with the bottom of the table so that the table would not sit upside down on its newly finished top, and to afford Tony some practice time before the more visible topside was undertaken.
And while it was dramatic enough to watch the hues richen and the vibrant grain pop on the underside of the table, it was the top that really dazzled.
You can see the most striking difference before and after the first coat of tung oil. Although this is a painstaking process, it’s profoundly rewarding. And Tony’s deep appreciation for the wood’s character further enriches the process.
[Although Tony is] a man of ample muscle and endurance… [he] is also more than able to tackle more delicate projects that require focus and endurance in place of brawn. His recent work tung oiling Ron Bauer’s custom table… has drawn upon his intense focus and his respect for the materials and vision.
(Source: Grateful, Part II)
Although applying the tung oil finish sounds like a quick and tidy punctuation mark to the painstaking process of confecting this table, it isn’t. It wasn’t.
When undertaken properly, this final creative process is incremental — applying and removing multiple coats of tung oil — and it requires plenty of patience and meticulous attention to detail.
[I showed Tony how] to hand rub (maybe massage is more accurate) the tung oil deep into the ash and elm grain, ensuring total coverage without over-applying, and working strictly with the grain direction.
(Source: Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table)
I channeled my brother’s advice:
Wipe it on, wait until just tacky, and rub it off. Use plenty of cloths. And throw them in water when you’re done to avoid fire.
— Charlie Davis (Source: Tung Oiling Ash & Elm Table)
This is when the magic happens. The first coat of oil accentuates the hues and grain. It invites sunlight into the wood, revealing the character-rich fibers and fissures, knots and intriguing irregularities. Massaging the first application of tung oil into the thirsty wood is nothing short of mesmerizing.
And then it’s time to rag off any oil that hasn’t been absorbed into to wood. We build up the finish coat after coat after coat, ensuring that any oil remaining on the surface is rubbed off after each pass.
After the first application (and removal), we allow all of the surfaces to dry thoroughly before proceeding. We delicately re-sand any raised grain (especially along seams and joints) with ultra fine (1500 grit) sand paper, and buff the entire surface with a fresh rag.
When it’s time for the next pass we repeat the process, gradually eliminating the sandpaper as the finish stabilizes. Usually within 3–4 oil applications we can move beyond the sandpaper. Then it’s merely a matter of removing excess oil and buffing all of the surfaces, building the luster microscopic layer after layer, working the tung oil deep into the wood.
Hand finishing hardwood with oil (tung, linseed, etc.) is mindful and intimate, inviting a contemplative connection between the oiler and the wood subject. Each swirl of growth, each rising and falling current,… The grain sings a song of the tree’s life, the seasons and storms, the birds and bugs, squirrels and caterpillars. It’s hard not to be moved. Especially when the ash and elm trees that now define this icehouse table (as well as the icehouse floors and railings) grew within site of the place where they will be used and exhibited for perpetuity.
As I revise and conclude this overdue update I realize it’s been a year since Tony finished tung oiling the table. One year I’ve been enjoying the collaborative fruit of Ron Bauer’s skillful fabrication and Tony’s skillful finishing. And the table still looks super today.
In Santa Fe we sometimes achieve 10-15 applications of oil before oil finished hardwood is ready for prime time. But the ambient humidity in Essex (especially last summer when we experienced an unusually high amount of rain) resulted in this table accepting seven tung oil applications before I decided it was time to stop. Persistent tackiness (or oil totally rubbing off after an application) suggest that the wood is no longer able to absorb more finish no matter how much massaging. I’d wondered how soon the table would be ready for more oil given that we applied fewer coats than I’d originally anticipated. But a year later, the table remains perfect, as if the oiling had just been completed.
What do you think?