Can you teach yourself wood carving?
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September 29, 2024 · Updated August 20, 2026

By Alexander Grabovetskiy Master Woodcarver · Founder, School of Wood Carving · 12 min read

Can you teach yourself wood carving?

Teaching yourself is possible in this craft, and it carries you further than most people expect. I did it for ten years before anyone taught me. You can teach yourself wood carving right up to a wall, and the wall is always the same two things, sharpening and design.

So you carved something. A leaf, or a small panel, and you sanded it and oiled it and stood it on the shelf, and now your eye keeps snagging on one spot and you cannot say what is wrong with it. Nothing about that is a talent problem. I have carved since I was six years old and I still do that. Look at this one of mine. I set two hazelnuts so close together that the husk had no room left to wrap around either nut. It looked awful. I said so on camera and kept filming.

Two hands with no teacher carry you further than most beginners are told. Then they stop, in two exact places. One is sharpening. The other one is design, and nobody warns you about that.

The moment Alexander finds his own mistake, the two hazelnuts left too close for the husk to wrap each one

I had left about 24 millimeters of material on that blank, and that is the only reason the husk could still be saved.


  • Your hands teach themselves. Grip, wrist, depth, all of it comes from hours at the bench.
  • Grain teaches hard. A board splits once and you remember it for life.
  • Most people quit at sharpening. One man in my class fought a single V tool for two hours, got frustrated, and set it down for good.
  • You cannot see your own design.
  • What moves you past that is watching somebody who already knows do the same slow job, up close, twice.

Can you teach yourself wood carving?

Alone gets you a long way, and I am the proof of that, but the ceiling sits lower than it looks from underneath.

Learning by yourself does a lot. It goes different the day you set your own work beside a master piece. My grandfather had a chisel, and at six years old I took it, and I took it to a brick, and I carved a face into that brick of somebody I could not name. I killed the chisel. Completely. He was not happy and he did not give me a hard time either.

Ten years went by with nobody teaching me one thing. Then at sixteen a man in my town heard I was carving and brought one of his own pieces over to show me. He taught fine art, and he carved, and he set that piece down in front of me until my jaw dropped. That was the day I learned what wood carving is supposed to look like, and ten years of my own practice had never once told me. He said I had talent and offered to teach me really how to carve.

So start alone. It is free, it will not hurt you, and it is the honest answer to where to start. My great grandfather worked mahogany in the Chippendale style and no college taught him either.

Alexander Grabovetskiy checking the edge of a gouge in front of his tool wall

My teacher handed me one gouge, and this wall came later.

What can you really learn on your own?

Your hands are the part that teaches itself, and they are quicker at it than any teacher.

Grip. Wrist angle. How deep to go before the wood tells you to stop. Nobody hands you those, you buy them with hours. When I came to the United States I owned one gouge and one knife, and my teacher had given me the gouge and I had made the knife myself, and that was the whole kit for a working carver.

Wood teaches too. Carve basswood and the gouge slices. Move to butternut and it feels close, then soft in the wrong places. Try walnut and that same gouge skates and tears. Carve a 2x4 from the lumber yard and you will get so frustrated, and you will kill your tools. The Forest Products Laboratory prints density and shrinkage numbers for free in its Wood Handbook, and reading a number is a different thing from feeling it under an edge.

What you learnHow far you get on your ownReal wallWhat moves it past the wall
Holding the gouge rightPretty far, because your own hands teach you fastWrist angleSomeone watching your actual hand for once
Reading the grainFar, a split board teaches hardEnd grainA demonstration, then your board
Sharpening a gouge by yourselfNot far at all, most people give up hereV toolClose video of the two facets
Designing your ornamentAlmost nowhere, these laws stay hiddenGolden pointsFour laws, drawn and explained
Calling it finishedHard, because you stop too early or too lateShadow depthWatching a master carver decide when to stop
A hand holds a black proportional divider against a pale acanthus leaf relief carving with deep scrolls

Dividers on somebody else's leaf, which is the cheapest lesson in this whole craft.

Where does teaching yourself stop working?

Sharpening is the first wall, and the V tool is the brick in the middle of it.

In one class a man brought a brand new set. His V tool needed sharpening. He worked at it for a couple of hours and ended up really frustrated, because it is really, really hard to sharpen. Many people who try wood carving quit over that one tool. A 60 degree V tool does about 90 percent of my outlining, so quitting over it is quitting.

Now the part nobody prints. A quarter inch bevel and a 20 millimeter bevel feel like the same tool in your hand. One of them goes weak at the point and folds in white oak. The other makes you raise your elbow and your shoulder all day, and after a few hours you hurt. Rounding the heel fixes that. Nobody alone in a garage finds it, which is why sharpening has a course of its own here, and why the real wall in this craft is not the carving.

Buying more tools does not help. Twelve gouges from the Swiss brand run about half a thousand dollars. A Schaaf set of the same twelve, off Amazon, costs less than one and a half of those Swiss gouges, and I have carved with both. Neither one sharpens itself. There is a plainer answer about what to look for in a tool set if you want it.

Alexander Grabovetskiy at his bench with a carved panel, the camera on its tripod beside him

The camera sits where my eye sits.

A filmed lesson does that better than a person standing behind me in a class, and it is also the honest limit of what a camera can show you.

The second wall is quieter. Knowing a carving is finished is a judgment call, and no book hands it over. Here I am arguing with myself about it out loud.


Why does design beat most self-taught carvers?

Design is not drawing, and that one misunderstanding costs people years.

My teacher started me with a pencil and a sheet of paper. Sit and draw something for carving, he said. I spent a whole day on acanthus movements and I thought what I drew was beautiful. He came over and said think. Think how you are going to carve it. What tools will you use, how will you get into that area. Then he handed me another sheet of paper.

There is a lot more to it than the ability to take a pencil and draw something. He taught me laws. A law of space, a law of rhythm, a law of repetition, and there are more of them, and none of them arrive by feel. All of that sits in the laws of design, and it is the reason I tell people to draw it first.

A diagram shows a rectangular panel divided into a grid with numbered arcs marking five units across and three down

Five across and three down. Not decoration. The grid is the reason the panel reads at all.

A Grinling Gibbons style foliage carving in progress, the framing used through the online lessons

Grinling Gibbons worked like this with nothing in the shop that plugged into a wall.

How do you find the strong spot on a plain board?

Work it out on paper, and find the strong point before a gouge touches the wood.

Step 1, mark the four strong points

Take a plain board. Along the bottom edge, mark the golden ratio point at roughly 60 percent of the width. Mark the matching point coming back the other way, then repeat both of those on a vertical edge. Four lines, four crossings, four strong points. Your brain reads those spots whether you planned them or not.

One plain board hides four golden ratio points.

Four of them. On an empty board.

Step 2, pick the hero and give it an antagonist

One of the four is the main guy. In my flower panel it is the peony, and the calipers land on it at 1.62 without me forcing anything. Every hero needs somebody pulling the other way, so a second strong point takes that pull. Miss the antagonist and the whole design goes flat, even when every leaf on it is carved well.

Circled in red, the second strong point that pulls against the main flower.

The one that pulls back against the peony.

Step 3, choose the diagonal

Every space has two main diagonals, one climbing and one dropping. The old names are baroque for the rising line and sinister for the falling one, and if you look at the fine art that survived, all of it sits on one or the other. So decide whether your flowers are growing or falling before you draw them. Inside a single acanthus leaf, one part grows while another part falls.

Half the sketch climbs while the other half drops away, and both diagonals cross near the middle.

Both diagonals crossing near the middle.

Step 4, fill the space around it

I drew a boat on an empty board once and asked a room how big it was. Twenty five feet, one man said. Sixteen, said another. Both wrong, because a boat with nothing around it has no size at all. Put one small dot beside it and nobody says 25 anymore, they say 500 feet. What surrounds the main idea is what sets its size.

Boat drawn on an empty board. How big?

You cannot say yet, and that is exactly the point.

Step 5, size everything on the sequence

One, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty one. Count the petals on a flower and you land on that list, five or eight or thirteen. Seeds in a sunflower land on it again, and they pack into diamonds, not squares. So the leaves around your hero are never all one size. Left eye smaller, right eye bigger. Carvers have a name for it, dynamic symmetry.

Sunflower seeds pack into diamonds, so the diamond goes up on the board too.

Diamonds, because a sunflower packs its seeds that way and nothing in nature packs them square.

Under the spiral I chalked 1.61. Fibonacci and the golden ratio come from the same place.

I chalked 1.61 under the spiral. Fibonacci and the ratio come out of one place.

All five steps are one course, and I built it because the people asking me could not find it anywhere. Principles of design is where the drawings live, and the hazelnut project is where you watch me break my own rule and repair it.


How long does teaching yourself take?

Ten years alone got me to the door of this craft and did not get me through it.

I picked up a chisel at six. At sixteen a teacher found me. Those ten years were not wasted and they were not enough, and I want to be honest about both halves of that sentence. For the numbers by the hour there is how long it takes, and a list of the same mistakes almost everybody makes in year one.

Go look at what survived. The old carving in the Victoria and Albert Museum sits on the same laws, every piece of it, and none of it was carved by expressing anybody.

Carving along a long curved panel, the kind of control that only arrives with years

Control along a long curve arrives with years, never with a better gouge.

What happens when nobody teaches the laws?

People stop calling it a skill and start calling it self expression.

I paid good money for a fine art teacher for my daughter Jessica when she was small. She lasted about two weeks. Then she came home and I asked to see her work, and it was a couple of splashes on paper, and I asked what they teach you, and she told me the teacher said to express yourself. Put something on the paper. Express yourself.

Then a banana taped to a wall sells for 120,000 dollars. Meanwhile everything hanging in the Rijksmuseum was built on the ratio, down to the spacing between the letters. If you do not understand the ratio, you do not understand the act of creation. That is not a marketing line. It is the reason my whole design course exists.

A yellow banana held to a gray chalkboard by a strip of silver duct tape

Taped up and sold, and there is no law anywhere in it.


Shall we carve?

Frequently asked questions

Can I learn wood carving from free videos alone?

Free videos will carry you through a first year of hand work, and plenty of good carvers began exactly that way. What they rarely give you is a close, slow look at an edge being shaped, or somebody telling you plainly that your leaf is sitting in the weakest spot on the board.

Which skill is hardest to teach yourself?

Sharpening, and design right behind it. A bevel that is slightly wrong feels correct in your hand for months on end. Move to design and a bad layout looks fine on paper, then reads dead once it is carved. Both of those faults hide from whoever made them, which is the whole trouble.

Do I need to draw before I carve?

Drawing helps, though thinking like a tool matters more. The man who taught me made me redraw one acanthus until I could name which gouge would reach every part of it. Pretty lines that no gouge on your bench can reach are worth nothing at all.

How many tools does a beginner need?

Two or three good ones will do real work. A number 11 veiner, a number 7 fishtail around 7 millimeters, and a knife carried me through years of projects. Buy your sharpening stones before you buy a fourth gouge, and buy them the same week.

Is a bad spot worth fixing or should I start over?

Fix it, nearly always. When I crowded those two hazelnuts I kept the blank, lowered the area about 3 millimeters, and grew the husk into whatever space was left. The repair taught me more that afternoon than a clean panel ever has.

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