A wooden game should first make you want to play
That may sound obvious, but when making a beautiful object it is easy to focus on its appearance and forget how it will be used.
A solitaire board should be pleasant to handle.
Dominoes should have consistent dimensions.
A chessboard must remain easy to read.
A letter game must be usable without the making process overwhelming the game itself.
That balance is what interests me in this kind of project.
Two levels have to be considered at the same time: making an object refined enough to remain on display, but practical enough not to become purely decorative.
In the workshop, I have explored several types of game: solitaire, chess, letter games, dominoes and game cases.
The rules are already known.
The work is therefore to give them a different physical form.
A game begins with the way it will be used
Unlike a purely decorative object, a game imposes very concrete constraints.
The pieces will be picked up, moved, put down and stored.
Sometimes they will be handled for hours.
The first step is therefore to understand what the game genuinely requires.
For solitaire, the position and regularity of the recesses are essential.
For dominoes, every piece must remain dimensionally consistent and pleasant to shuffle and handle.
For chess, the alternating squares must be immediately legible.
These constraints do not limit creativity.
They simply provide the framework in which the work takes place.
That framework then guides the choice of materials, proportions and finish.
Wood completely changes the feel of a game
Choosing wood is not only a question of colour.
It also affects weight, touch and how the pieces age.
In a game made from several elements, contrasts between species can help readability directly.
This is particularly clear on a chessboard, where the two groups of squares must remain distinct.
The same principle can be used more discreetly in other games.
The grain can become a graphic element.
The natural colour of the wood may be enough to separate several zones.
An inlay can create a reference point without adding an artificial component.
I generally prefer the materials to remain readable.
When brass is used as an inlay, for example, its interest comes precisely from the contrast with the wood.
There is no need to multiply effects to make it visible.
A few carefully placed details can be enough.
Making a solitaire board is mainly a question of consistency
Solitaire is a good example of a game that appears simple.
A board, a precise geometric arrangement and balls or pegs.
Yet the slightest irregularity is immediately visible.
The positions must be evenly spaced.
The depth must remain consistent.
The game must be comfortable to use and the playing pieces easy to pick up.
Preparing the geometry therefore occupies an important place in the project.
The pattern can be constructed digitally before machining to achieve a regular distribution.
The CNC becomes particularly useful for reproducing that geometry accurately.
But it does not solve everything.
The board still has to be positioned correctly, a suitable tool selected, the operations prepared and the real result in the wood checked.
As always with digital manufacturing, the machine executes the precision prepared beforehand.
It does not create that precision by itself.
Dominoes: repeating without becoming industrial
A domino set poses a different problem.
This time, the difficulty lies in repetition.
Each piece belongs to a larger set.
The dimensions must therefore remain consistent from one domino to the next.
The work becomes a search for regularity.
But regularity does not mean impersonal production.
I have worked, for example, on wooden dominoes with brass details.
The contrast between the two materials gives the game an identity without changing its basic principle.
My dominoes measure 60 × 30 × 8 mm.
On paper, those are only three measurements.
In the workshop, they must be repeated accurately across an entire series of pieces.
Cutting, sizing, detailing, refining and finishing must remain consistent enough for the game to form a coherent whole.
This is a very different exercise from making a single isolated object.
A small variation that is almost invisible on one piece becomes much more obvious when several elements are placed side by side.
The chessboard: geometry and contrast
The chessboard is probably one of the games in which visual construction is strongest.
Everything is based on a grid.
Two tones.
Perfectly organised lines.
That apparent simplicity leaves little room for approximation.
A small difference in width is repeated across the whole board.
A poor alignment immediately catches the eye.
And the choice of woods changes the final result considerably.
A strong contrast gives a very graphic appearance.
Species closer in tone create a more discreet board.
The finish can also alter the balance by strengthening certain colours.
A chessboard is therefore both a game and an exercise in precision.
Its geometry is familiar to everyone.
An error cannot be hidden behind a complex form.
Letter games: making the storage too
Some games introduce another question: the number of pieces and how they are stored.
A letter game is not limited to making a board.
The movable elements, their organisation and the way the set is used and put away must also be considered.
This is an important part of my projects.
A successful game should remain pleasant before, during and after play.
The case, board or storage system is therefore not an accessory added at the end.
It belongs to the design.
The same logic applies to more complex game cases, such as a poker set.
In such a project, the work is no longer only about the rules of the game.
A whole group of elements has to be organised, coherent recesses created and an object designed so that it can be opened, used and stored easily.
The case almost becomes a cabinetmaking project in its own right.
Brass, resin and other materials should keep a purpose
I enjoy combining wood with other materials.
But I try not to add them only because they produce a visual effect.
Brass can serve as a reference point, graphic detail or inlay.
Resin can create a separation, a contrast or a particular geometry.
These materials have a strong presence.
They should therefore be used with restraint.
In a game, the aim is not for the player to spend the entire time looking at the manufacturing technique.
The making should improve the experience without getting in the way.
A beautiful inlay has no value if it makes a piece uncomfortable to hold.
A highly polished finish is not necessarily suitable for a surface that is handled constantly.
The design must always return to use.
The finish must withstand actual play
A creation intended to be looked at and a game intended to be handled do not age in the same way.
The surfaces of a game are touched regularly.
Pieces are moved.
The board may receive small impacts.
The finish must be chosen accordingly.
Its role is to protect the wood while preserving a pleasant feel.
A surface should not become awkward to use merely to obtain a spectacular visual effect.
Sanding also plays an essential role.
Edges that are too sharp can be uncomfortable.
Differences in level are immediately felt by the fingers.
The quality of a game is discovered as much by touch as by sight.
That is probably one reason wood remains so well suited to this use.
The material retains a presence.
It warms in the hand.
It evolves with time.
Above all, it invites the object to be handled.
A beautiful game should not end up under glass
I find it a shame to make a game so precious that nobody dares to use it.
A game should live.
Dominoes should be shuffled.
Chess pieces moved.
Solitaire started again.
Letters taken out of their storage.
A handcrafted creation can of course have particular value.
It can also become a strong element in a room when it is not being used.
But it should not lose its primary function.
I therefore look for a balance.
The game should be able to remain on a table, shelf or desk.
It should be refined enough to participate in the space.
But its natural place remains in the hands of the people playing it.
Giving a game also means giving an activity
Wooden games are often chosen as gifts.
I understand why.
They are not tied to a technical trend or software version that will quickly become obsolete.
The rules have often existed for a very long time.
The difference lies in the object itself.
Its material.
Its manufacture.
And the context in which it will be used.
A game given for a wedding, birthday or particular occasion may later accompany many ordinary moments.
Those ordinary moments are often what give it real value.
An improvised game.
A family habit.
A set always brought out with the same people.
There is a great deal of talk about passing handcrafted objects down.
I prefer to remain cautious with that idea: no one can promise that an object will actually remain in a family for several generations.
It is possible, however, to make something people want to keep.
That already matters.
Why I continue to make wooden games
Games bring together several parts of my work.
Precision.
Choice of woods.
Repetition of certain pieces.
Designing storage.
Inlays.
Marquetry for certain projects.
CNC machining when precise geometry has to be constructed.
And above all one permanent question: does the object remain pleasant to use?
That final question matters most.
The success of a game is not measured only by the quality of a photograph taken when the work is finished.
It is also measured at the moment someone begins to play without thinking about how the object was made.
The pieces naturally find their place.
The board is easy to read.
The storage works.
The material feels pleasant.
At that point, the making can almost disappear behind the use.
For me, that is probably the best possible result.