Hannah Reeves still keeps her first marking gauge on the wall above her bench — dented, initialled, and, she insists, the most honest tool she owns. Ten years after finishing her Northfield joinery apprenticeship, she runs Reeves & Bench, a six-person workshop known for kitchens and staircases that look carved from a single tree.
The teachers who would not rush her
“My master, Mr. Aldane, once made me cut the same dovetail eleven times,” she laughs. “Not because ten were wrong — because the eleventh finally looked effortless. That is the whole Northfield method: nobody applauds fast. They applaud right.” Hannah credits the federation's bench reviews — public, blunt, unforgettable — with teaching her to take criticism the way she takes a chisel to oak: steadily, without flinching.
The commission that bought the bench
Her turning point came two years after graduating: a farmhouse kitchen in solid ash, won through a directory listing another alumnus had recommended she claim. The fee paid for her first industrial bench — and for the habit she keeps to this day. “Every graduate should list themselves in the alumni directory the week they finish. Work finds you faster than you find work.”
Two apprentices, every year
Hannah now takes on two Northfield apprentices annually and judges the spring bench review. Her advice to the class of 2025 is characteristically plain: master one joint before you photograph ten, answer every forum question you can, and never quote a job you would not want your name carved into.
