Mike in the shop — Syracuse, NY

Hi, I'm Mike.

I didn't find woodworking through a class or a how-to video. I found it in my grandfather's shop. We called him Papa — Willis — and more than thirty years ago, when I was small enough to need a stool to reach the bench, the best days I can remember were the ones spent right next to him, breathing in sawdust and trying to be useful.

Papa could build anything out of wood. When I was twelve and decided I wanted a trebuchet, he didn't tell me it couldn't be done — he said, "Show me what it looks like, and we'll give it a shot." So we built one. That was Papa: nothing was too strange to attempt, as long as you were willing to measure carefully and put in the work.

He was never in a hurry, and he never cut a corner. He taught me to measure twice, to sand past the point anyone would notice, and to build a thing so it outlasts the person who made it. Standing at his side, I was learning the whole trade — the patience, the precision, and the quiet pride in careful work no one else would ever see.

That never left me. Over the years, I built up a dedicated shop at my own home in Syracuse and started making the kind of pieces Papa would have recognized on sight — built by hand, made to order, made to belong in the room. Buss Custom Cabinetry is where that thread, started at his bench, picks back up.

I build built-ins because they're functional sculpture: they have to work, they have to last, and they have to look like they were always there. I work at a deliberate, scheduled pace — slower than a big shop, but nothing gets rushed and nothing gets handed to someone who cares less. Every piece I deliver is one I'd put in my own home; the first one literally was.

Papa is gone now, but every piece I build carries a little of him in it. This is how I honor him — by holding to the standard he set at that first bench, and by meeting your project the way he met my trebuchet: show me what it looks like, and we'll give it a shot.

A dedicated space
for serious work.

The shop is a dedicated space at my home in Syracuse, set up specifically for cabinetry and millwork: a full-size cabinet saw, a jointer, a planer, a router table, and a collection of hand tools that get used on every project.

Having a dedicated space matters. It means I can leave a project mid-build, come back to it two days later, and pick up exactly where I stopped. Nothing gets moved, nothing gets compromised. The shop is always ready.

It also means the work stays at the shop until it's done. When a piece arrives at your home, it's finished — not completed on-site with a belt sander and a can of spray lacquer.

"I want to build pieces that feel like they came with the house."

That's the benchmark. Not impressive in a showroom, not impressive in a photo — impressive when you're actually living with it, when you open the drawer every day and it still feels exactly right.

CNY has a lot of homes with good bones. Older construction, real dimensions, character that deserves to be extended rather than covered over. The best built-ins I've ever seen are the ones you can't tell weren't original to the house. That's what I'm building toward.

The business is growing slowly, on purpose. I'm not trying to scale into a cabinet company. I'm trying to build a reputation — one piece at a time — for work that lasts and for clients who understand the difference between made-to-order and mass-produced.

If that resonates with what you're looking for, I'd like to hear from you.

From the shop.

A glance at recent posts. Follow along on Instagram or Facebook to see new work as it hits the bench.

Got a room
that needs work?

Tell me what you're thinking — project type, rough scope, and where you are in CNY. I'll get back to you within a business day or two.