Although modern terms such as ‘STEM’ and ‘the humanities’ (and pop psychology quizzes the world over) promote divisions of discipline and thought, the old masters cautioned against this:
“To develop a compete mind: Study the science of art; Study the Art of Science. Learn to see everything.”
This quote, attributed to Leonardo Da Vinci, claims each canvas is an interface, each brushstroke a calculation. Code written, syntax observed, and scripts rehearsed until performance is flawless. Sequences traced in integers or pirouettes or coils of film. Equations are solved with ‘expressions,’ while symphonies are expressed in ‘note values.’
In short, no conclusion is reached without imagination; no composition, without technique.
Dennis Zongker of Zongker’s Custom Woods knows this well. Despite completing one of three planned books on contemporary woodworking, “Wooden Boxes,” he’d never describe himself as a “master.” All the same, his work speaks for itself—and it’s anything but modest.
“Michelangelo’s style, realism, I read his books and studied him, too,” said Zongker, appraising a wooden sculpture of a man gripping a chisel and mallet, a vein coursing over his striking arm as he carves himself from a tree trunk. “My first ‘anatomy’ I ever did was the crucifixion. He was 6’4″, a big guy […] I took a crash course on anatomy. I studied so hard for like, three months.”
Titled, “Self Made Man called ‘Determination,’” the former stands just over three feet tall, one of a few still faces—including a veiled Mary, eyes somehow agleam over hands in perpetual prayer—that keep vigil over his South Omaha shop.
“Mary, she’s my favorite; she turned out the best,” he continued, a half-scale rendition molded from clay adjacent to the finished piece. “The thing about clay is you can screw up a hundred times and come back the next day and figure it out, right? But when you’re carving wood, it’s so much harder. Take it from a guy who’s done both.”
Since converting the 19th-century Metz Brewery building into Zongkers Custom Woods with older brother Dan—an accomplished craftsman in his own right—Zongker has spent the last 25 years honing his skills. He’s grown adept at sketching, oil painting, physics, and geometry. He’s learned the subtle contours of the human form and how to use a variety of tools, both cutting-edge and archaic, to reproduce them. In addition to book writing, he’s also a frequent contributor to Woodcarving Magazine, among other publications.
With Dan and wife, Patti, his passion and prowess have generated a thriving business; commercial installments and custom pieces fetch tens of thousands of dollars depending on the breadth and complexity of the commission from clients nationwide.
All this, in service of a singular, all-consuming passion: to make beautiful things from wood.
Take lions, for example.
“I love cats, and I love lions,” Zongker shared, a pair of beasts with basswood manes and shields emblazoned with ebony ‘Z’s guarding his desk. “Just the majestic strength and beauty that they have; the most incredible creatures God ever made.”
His leonine veneration aside, teaching is one of Zongker’s “big passions,” one he exercised leading courses at Midwest Woodworkers prior to its sale to Woodcraft, a national retailer. Zongker expressed a desire to establish a woodworking school of his own post-retirement.
“He’s just an awesome teacher, you know? I came in not knowing anything, I didn’t know anything about woodworking,” confessed Andy Barriga, who attended high school with Zongker’s son, Eric, a decade ago.
Now, Barriga works alongside the wood master; today his task involves applying finish to a ‘Queen Bee’-inspired bed-frame, replete with hive-capped columns and an expansive Victorian crown headboard.
“When I first started, he told me he’d never fire me,” he continued. “It took about two or three years to get really good enough to boost my confidence, and you know, he never was too hard on me; he knew how hard it was. That was pretty much all I needed to know that someone believed in me.”
As it turns out, Zongker may have one gift that rivals even his woodworking chops: inspiring others.
“The longer you do it, the more you’re going to fall in love with it. And then it becomes addicting,” he said. “Something to do with that natural wood that God created and then making something out of it. That can be beautiful. Somebody compliments you—it’s like a rush.
“And then you want to do it all over again.”
For more information, visit zongkers.com.
This article originally appeared in the May 2024 issue of Omaha Home magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
