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Once upon a time, after finishing a nice dinner, a couple bottles of wine, some beer, vodka and gin someone said “John don’t you have a bench to move”.  The referenced bench was the 8' long Nicholson English bench built by Christopher Schwarz and made from Southern Yellow Pine. My shop is in the basement which lies on the other side of a tight turn at the bottom of the steps.

Earlier in the evening I had taken out a tape and measured the space.  It seemed to me that there was a “9 foot space” that would allow the 8 foot bench to clear the wall. So we put down our glass, picked up the bench, two in front and two at the other end, and proceeded down the stairs. As we moved closer to the “9 foot space” it got tight, well ok, it got stuck. Being that we all were feeling quite optimistic from the wine, we naturally pushed forward until I heard a noise and Chris say "there goes your wall".  Undeterred we pulled back, shifted the bottom up a bit and pushed again. Yes, another sound and another "there goes your wall". After another number of minutes and another sound I looked up to see my wife laughing hard and holding the video camera. As the concerned and helpful wife that she is, she saw the train wreck before it happened and decided to film it. I wonder if I should search Youtube....

Anyway, I did get the bench to the basement and decided to rip out the offending wall!  There must be a moral to this story but I am not sure what it is.  Maybe it is build a bench that can be taken apart?

I had the privilege to host the Philadelphia Museum of Art's secret weapon, carver/conservator Chris Storb a few weeks ago. Chris isn't just an expert carver, he's intimately familiar with 18th c work and especially familiar with Philadelphia work.

Chris is a fantastic source for not only how to do it, but also specifically what was done. This makes him particularly rare. These two bits of information are more typically found in two different people (expert period woodworkers for the how, and furniture curators for the what). So it was with great pleasure that Chris agreed to visit my shop and let me painstakingly photograph him carving a Philadelphia style ball and claw foot. I'm looking forward to sharing what I learned from Chris in an upcoming issue of your favorite woodworking magazine.

Adam

Chris Storb Links:

• Access Privileges from my blog
• Two American Masters from my blog
• "antiques and fine Art" magazine

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Hi Folks
Well - that's that. I've finished in the workshop and put the bench in the back of the van ready for the journey to Westonbirt tomorrow. I've just about finished all the planes I was hoping to make and I'm sat at the computer now printing out signs and labels. The rain is falling outside (obviously having a last go before the coming heatwave...........) but I'm not worried. I know its going to be a great weekend :)
I've made a couple of planes from some Indonesian Rosewood I've been hoarding. One is the pretty little smoother I showed off yesterday - the other is a monster Miter plane. She looks just awesome! If anyone is interested they'll be on my bench this coming weekend :)

Shock of the day was the Wife coming out to the workshop with the phone. "It's Konrad", she says. My jaw drops - not Konrad Sauer??
Oh, yes - a quick call before he heads to the airport to make his way over. It was great to have a quick chat (and also to find I'm not the only one feverishly packing bags!) and I'm really looking forward to spending a few days in his company. Did I mention Konrad and I will have our benches set up next to each other (along with Infill maker Bill Carter!) in the Classic Hand Tools marquee?
So make sure you head over to Westonbirt this weekend for the "Festival of the Tree" - you won't be disappointed!
Cheers
Philly

Hi Folks
The workshop has been going flat out preparing for the "Festival of the Tree" at Westonbirt. I'm packing the van and hitting the road in the morning, so today is the last day for me finish off bits and pieces and any last minute tasks.
Again, I've been fortunate to have my workshop helper (let's call him "Mr. X" for now....) giving me a hand. I can tell he's enjoying it because he was moaning he didn't have his own workshop apron - one Tormek apron later and he's a happy bunny! Of course, that doesn't stop him repeatedly dropping hot pieces of metal into a jam jar of water, but I promised I wouldn't mention that ;)
With the Ipod rocking away in the background we've produced some lovely planes in the last few weeks. A Rosewood smoother and Miter plane are two of my favourites, and we've been making a selection of the new "Philly Shaves" in walnut, oak, maple, Gonc and Rosewood. They look fantastic - arty photographs to follow!
So - I should get back in the workshop. Time is ticking away....
Cheers
Philly

I recently posted about sharpening a 16 point rip saw that I had made a new handle for and used split saw nuts provided by Mike Wenzloff and have used it to cut some slots in 1/2″ diameter hickory muzzle-loading ramrods (a great source of hickory dowels by the way) and have cut some other stuff.

But I noticed the other day that the saw wasn’t cutting right and I looked at the teeth.  Now I have a feeling an apprentice may have cut into a nail or something, none of them will admit it, and the saw teeth in the center of the saw are unusually dull.  Now I do sharpen all of the teeth on my saws and I encourage my apprentices (I had 5, count them five in my shop today) to use all the teeth.  I know I do, so I am sure I did not cause the damage.

So I looked at the saw blade with 288 teeth total and wondered how to best go about re-sharpening.  I marked and carefully removed the new split saw bolts, removed the blade and contemplated filing all of the teeth again.  When I sharped the saw I could tell what teeth I was working on because they were rusted, so I could see the new metal and keep track of the little tiny teeth as I sharpened.

I jointed off the teeth to get them all to the same height, there was even more shiny stuff and it was difficult to see those little teeth, let alone isolating every other one.

But this saw, all of the teeth were still shiny and it looked like a nightmare.  Then I had a light come on in my head (not an incandescent light, they don’t exist in my world, but a grease light).  I light up a grease lamp, passed the blade in the flame and covered the teeth of the saw with soot.  I took care to get the soot on all the teeth (an alcohol lamp is soot-less so it doesn’t work, but a candle or oil lamp will).

I then put the saw into the chops, found the proper tooth to start on, then to my pleasant surprise, it was easy.  The teeth were black until I started filing, it was very easy to see the teeth that had been sharpened, so if I got distracted, which I do with 5 apprentices and one helper in the shop, I could go back and ’see’ just where I left off.

This is an excellent technique which I will employ again on fine toothed saws, and when I was done the soot just wiped right off.  I also think the soot may have provided a bit of lubrication for the filing but I am not sure.  I will probably do it on the next saw I get that needs to be sharped, even with bigger teeth, but for fine teeth it worked great.

Stephen

For the average user of a retractable tape, there can be some usages of a tape measure that unwittingly reduce its accuracy. Basically, many people are not even aware of these details. I did say usages, but there are also problems inherent with the way a tape measure is made, that for fine work, render it a tool which is not always the best tool for the job. When we ask a tool to wear too many hats, it fails to do as well by us as we may think it should. It is good to know what some of the weaknesses are so we can learn to accept what are and are not good practices for the tape measure.

When you are buying a tape measure, there are several available features that you can consider. For shop use, furniture making and cabinet making, you will rarely need a long tape, but the long tapes have features that enhance accuracy. They come with 1-inch wide tapes, which are easier to read for eye relief, harder to distort and are more rigid. Often the 1-inch tapes include more rivets on the hook, which lend themselves to resistance to wear and stretch. Unless you need a shorter tape for handy reasons, I recommend the bigger tape just for its added stability. (more…)

For the next issue of Woodworking Magazine, we’re investigating the best way to make through-tenons – a hallmark of early American furniture, Arts & Crafts pieces and people who like to show off.

I’ve spent a good deal of energy investigating the joint personally. When I started collecting Arts & Crafts furniture in 1990, I quickly became attuned to spotting the joint in pieces for my collection.

Even better, I had a mentor with an incredible collection. Owen Riley was a photographer at the newspaper where I worked, and he had been collecting Arts & Crafts furniture for many years. His entire apartment was stuffed to the gills with the stuff. And he took great pains to teach me the difference between the makers – I can spot an L & J.G. tusk tenon over a Gustav Stickley tusk tenon from across a room.

And so I’ve always had a realistic view of how this joint appears in real-deal furniture that now costs five or six figures.

Here’s the real truth: The craftsmanship is all over the place. Take a look at the photo above. That’s a through-tenon on a signed Gustav Stickley slipper rocker from my collection. All the through-tenons on the piece look exactly like this. Clearly, they were made with some sort of boring tool, perhaps a drill press or perhaps some form of spindle machine. Heck you can still see some torn grain on the surface of the joint that indicates the rotation of the cutter.

No effort was made to square up the ends of the joint. No effort was made to round over the tenon to match the radiused mortise. There’s just a gap that’s plainly visible on the outside surfaces of the leg.

I always like to compare that joint to the through-tenons on my Charles Stickley arm chair. Charles was one of the “lesser” Stickley brothers, and the craftsmanship and style of his work is often derided by modern writers. The through-tenons on his chair are perfect, as good as any high-class modern work in a gallery.

There’s no consistency by maker. Roycroft through-tenons? Raggy. Limbert through-tenons? Not bad except for a couple overcuts – probably from a saw.

So what’s the pattern? Visibility. The more visible the joint, the more likely that the maker went to great lengths to make it tidy. That seems like it should be obvious, but that has not been my experience with modern work (especially my own).

My inclination is to make the suckers perfect. Why? Because I often have other woodworkers snooping around my house, pulling out my drawers, turning over my tables and the like.

So how do you make these joints spot-on? I’ve used several methods, which we’ll be exploring in the issue. For long and skinny joints, it’s hard to beat a highly-tuned hollow-chisel mortiser (though I’m going to try). For squarish joints, it’s hard to beat a template and a router.

And, in the end, it’s hard to beat wedging, which can expand a tenon into a loosely fit joint. Or, if you’ve had a bad day, putty and a dark dark stain…..

— Christopher Schwarz

A short post - just to show some photos of a very recent plane.







A quick kiln update. It is currently running and water is being removed. It is a dehumidification process by way of a household dehumidifier. I will check the moisture content in a few days and report back. There are a few pieces of Ebony in the kiln right now and I am most curious to check the results. If it works - my shop will turn into a flurry of Ebony and stainless steel parts.

This past weekend I had nothing much to do. Well, with the exception of rebuilding the opening mechanism on an overhead skylight. A simple job of removing the old non-working...

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It may not be possible to fully understand the Craftsmen of the past but I think we can get some insight into their lives and works by looking at them in the context of their relationship to the social and economic conditions at the time.  From our prospective of today’s work ethic, lifestyles and modern thinking, we have certain connotations we put upon the past.  We may think that it was a hard and primitive time, with few resources and constant depredations.  We wonder how they could saw a board without a power saw (well I don’t think that, but it is a common view) or get along without refrigeration, but somehow they managed and here we are today. 

 

We have known an 8 hour work day for a long time now, but in the past, the work day was daylight hours and 12 hour work days were not uncommon.  Nor was a 6 day work week, almost everyone took Sunday off.  When today we look at the historic record and see the production that these people produced, we are amazed at how fast or how much they accomplished.  But remember this is all they did!  This was their job and their livelihood, if they didn’t produce they didn’t eat.  And when you do this stuff day in and day out for years, you get good at it, and if you are good at it, they you are fast at it as well. 

 

They didn’t have the diversions we have today, although they did have lives, families, religious, social and community responsibilities.  They worked at their occupations, many supplemented their income with farming and other activities, and provided for families.  Up early, chores around the farmstead, then off to the shop just as day breaks.  Then a full day at the shop, utilizing the daylight to avoid burning expensive candles, lamp oil or the more inexpensive and common grease lamps.  Coffin orders were attended to immediately and the craftsman would burn oil to get that job done, especially in the summer months. 

 

Lets take a Chair Maker for instance.  Now a ladder back chair can have 12 rungs, 4 legs and two or three slats.  Now that is 24 socket holes for the rungs (if my math is correct) and several mortises for the slats, that is a lot of drilling.  A chair maker could make a lot of chairs in a year and that is a lot of drilling, so I imagine they got real good and real fast at it, doing it all the time. 

 

Take a Cabinet-maker building a bureau (chest of drawers) with say 4 drawers.  Now if the carcase is dovetailed completely across the bottom with cleats dovetailed on the top and 4 drawers half blind dovetails on the fronts and through on the back can have over 100 dovetails.  After a couple dozen bureaus, I would imagine the work went quickly, especially if you gang saw, which is what they did.  I have examined old pieces and drawer dovetails almost always match, indicating gang sawing the sides. 

 

I am sure this applies to other woodworking trades as well as any other trade during the nineteenth century and earlier.  By making these pieces over and over again, they got good and they got fast.  I am not on the same level as these early craftsman, but I have been doing this for 36 years, so I am much faster than I was when I started.  With age there is some slowing down but with experience, work is accomplished more efficiently and effectively than when I was younger with less experience.  Increase in experience also reduces fears that generally accompany processes like dovetails or chair making. 

 

The dovetail was the penultimate joint, I thought as an apprentice and was intimidated by the process.  I layed everything out, carefully marked the waste sides and with great in trepidation started.  Now I mark the thickness, put the boards in a vise and start sawing.  Making a chair is also an intimidating challenge to woodworkers and my first chair took a week to make, the last ladder-back took a day and a half. 

 

Craftsmen of the past didn’t have the distractions that we have today, they could concentrate on what they were doing, making and selling their wares.  They did tend to their social and community duties and generally went to church on Sundays.  Craftsmen in many trades such as a Cabinet Maker or Blacksmith were often leaders in their communities, as they were more affluent, probably a little better educated and were well respected, what happened?  

 

I think people in the past had different values and prized their possessions more than we do today.  This is generated, I believe, by our disposable mentality, which is a modern thing.  We buy crap, use it up, throw it away and buy more crap.  Today people are astounded by how much I ask for a fancy side chair as they could buy 4 chairs and a table for less, they don’t appear to see the difference between something that is handmade and something that isn’t.  They don’t expect to buy anything that will last as everything else they buy doesn’t.  I am not sure how craftsmen of the past felt about their work, but judging from the quality of what has survived they did take pride and produced some fine stuff that if properly cared for will last hundreds of years.

 

Stephen

 

 

 

I'll admit it. I was a Normite. In fact, it was Norm Abram who taught me how to use power tools. At a time when there seemed to be very few female woodworkers (16 years ago), it was a tad bit intimidating to ask for assistance in a woodworking store full of men. But good 'ol Norm was there to give me my first push down the slippery slope of woodworking.

Then about 10 years ago, I became interested in working with handtools. Now I use a blended workshop.

But to all of us—power tool, hand tool, or blended woodworkers—don't we all share an irrepressible and magnetic attraction to workbenches?

My conundrum as a beginner handtool user was: How do you use a workbench? How do you make the most of it? What part of the tail vise is used to clamp stock?

The answers were found in books like The Workbench Book, Making Workbenches, and Choosing and Using Handtools (among others). And with the recent release of Chris Schwarz's book, we have another fabulous resource.

Books like these disclose the importance of bench jigs. Pictured are a cut off jig for dowels and a planing stop. The cut off jig has a roughly chiseled V-groove that holds a dowel in place, and a piece of wood glued beneath the front edge that acts as a bench hook. The planing jig has through-tenoned dowels that drop down into holes that are bored into my benchtop. Both jigs see a lot of use in the shop.

Once I learned how to use a workbench, how to make the most of it, how to build and employ bench jigs, it opened up a whole new dimension in woodworking. And the slippery slope became a whole lot steeper.

Reproducing Antique Furniture are words that seem to get everyone worked up.  Is it a ‘reproduction’?  Is it a ‘copy’?  Is it a ‘replica’?   Is it a ‘duplicate’?  Is it a ‘facsimile’?  Yes I got out my Thesaurus to get more words into the fray. 

 

I am not sure there is any convention here so I think I will take a crack at this one.  A reproduction is a version of the original that has been made using the same tools, traditional techniques and similar materials to the original.  This would be based on the time period of the piece that is being reproduced.  Arts and Crafts probably didn’t use a pole lathe.  And while it may be difficult to get old growth wood, a species match is critical.  And while all old techniques may not be known (yet) using traditional methods is also important in order to call it a ‘reproduction’.   I think anything else isn’t. 

 

A copy or facsimile would be a faithful version in all outward appearances but with concessions to modern techniques. 

 

 

 

I think replica is related to the above characterizations as these pieces would be versions that replicate the look of the original with no indication as to how it was made.

 

 I think the same applies for ‘duplicate‘, although this word can be taken literally and technically and would therefore in an esoteric sense not possible. 

 

Now ‘our version’ can mean anything, and there is nothing wrong with that. 

 

But we need a convention to describe making furniture or other objects as they were made originally; tools, materials and techniques.  This is a reproduction and everything else isn’t. 

 

I have said this before and I will probably say it again and there is always room to discuss the use of the words and their meanings.  I just don’t know how far to push this issue nor where to set the bar.  But if an early 19th century Butler’s Desk is made with power tools unavailable in the early nineteenth century then it is a copy or duplicate or facsimile or replica, but it is not a reproduction.

 

Can you only made a reproduction 18th century piece if your body is nourished by traditional 18th century foods?  (I would like to go there, but I won’t).  Can you only make a 19th century piece if the shop is period correct?  If you are wearing the clothing of the period?  Once again I have gone too far or have I?  Should there be a further distinction of reproductions done where everything is correct?  Is that possible?  Is it worthwhile?  Or is this an academic pursuit I should not bother others with? 

 

That aside, I think that in order to give the proper credit to actual reproductions as opposed to things called ‘reproductions’ there needs to be a distinction.  If someone uses the same tools, materials and techniques of the particular period and makes a ‘reproduction’, then that needs to be accredited and acknowledged.  And they shouldn’t be expected to compete against those that use modern tools, etc to make what they call ‘reproductions’.  Let the modern folks call it something else but leave ‘reproduction’ to mean what it should mean. 

 

Stephen

 

Lie-Nielsen Toolworks continues to turn back the clock (a good thing in the world of hand-tool woodworking). The Warren, Maine, manufacturer plans to offer a version of the 18th-century French-style workbench made popular in Andre Roubo's "L'Art du Menuisier."

The company has just completed work on its first Roubo bench (shown above) for a customer. The bench is quite similar to the version I built for Woodworking Magazine, with a few exceptions. The two ends of the base are a bit different – there's extra stretchers in there to attach the top, plus cross-bolts that allow the bench to be knocked down. Also, there is a twin-screw vise in the end-vise position at the request of the customer.

All the important functional details are spot-on. There's a wooden planing stop mortised into the top. There's a crochet and a leg vise – you don't have to have both bench accessories to plane things on edge, but they are both convenient and useful. Also, Lie-Nielsen has added a sliding deadman. This is an accessory not shown in Roubo, but is very handy for securing wide panels and doors.

The bench is maple, and Thomas Lie-Nielsen reports that it weighs 400 pounds. The top is 4" thick, 24" wide and 8' long. When the bench is put into regular production, the legs will be 4" x 4".

The bench will be more expensive than the two styles now offered by Lie-Nielsen, a European bench starting at $2,000, and a David Charlesworth-style bench for $1,500. Thomas says that building the Roubo involves additional labor and material.

If you're interested in ordering one, you'll need to wait a bit. The company has temporarily suspended taking orders for benches until it can reduce the waiting list, which Thomas says is now at about nine months.

But if you've seen these benches at shows or in other shops, you know that the quality justifies the wait.

— Christopher Schwarz

Last summer we filmed a new DVD on workbenches. When I say "we" I mean Chris Schwarz, Jeff, AJ and Mandy. I helped as I could, moving benches (three benches were used and rotated through), turning on and off lights, chiseling an area of a workbench and whatever else I could do. I also learned what a "Grip" is. You know when watching the credits at the end of a movie you see the term "Grip".   In order to fix a light issue, AJ came up with the idea to hold a blue cloth behind Chris. It worked and I stood there and gripped the cloth.

Making a woodworking DVD is a lot of work. Many different shots were taken to show something from different angles. There was pausing to wait for the passing of a loud truck, voice overs, changes in the sun glare through the windows, reflections from a camera tripod and other issues. The crew did a great job noticing anything that interfered with the shot or the sound. Then there was the heat.  We had all the windows shut and turned the A/C off because of noise.  When they turned the lights on it felt like putting your hand in front of a roaring fire! 

Now that Chris is done, there will be more hours spent watching the video and selecting the best takes to put on the final DVD. All is all it was a lot of fun for me, and Maine in the Summer is hard to beat. And yes, I went to Lie-Nielsen Toolworks and bought some new tools. I bought two chisels, a 1/2 inch and a 3/8 inch for dovetailing. I have been using Marples blue chip chisels which are great but the sides are quite thick and as Chris has written, the wide chisel sides tend to monkey up the area where the bottom of the tail meets the baseline. So, after trying to save money and avoid buying more tools I splurged on two chisels. If you haven't been to Maine it is a great place to visit and see the Toolworks.

-John 

David Finck designed and built the box at right as a prop in an upcoming movie entitled Nights in Rodanthe, set for release in October. The movie stars Richard Gere and Diane Lane, whose character dabbles in woodworking. David was commissioned to not only supply props, but to instruct Diane Lane in woodworking techniques, including handcutting dovetails and handplaning.

You can see the movie trailer here: http://nightsinrodanthe.warnerbros.com/

I'm curious whether Diane comes across as a legitimate woodworker or if she's as believable as Paris Hilton portraying a brain surgeon. But because I'd just as soon pluck my eyebrows with a chainsaw than go see a barfy romance movie, I'll ask that if any of you would be willing to take one for the team, suffer through the viewing, and then email me your opinion....I'd be indebted. No, really.

Whenever John Economaki of Bridge City Tools teaches classes about furniture design, he always asks his students a question that seems to have no good answer.

The question goes something like this: Would you rather have a piece of furniture with great lines but so-so craftsmanship, or a somewhat dumpy-looking project with perfect and crisp joinery throughout?

You'll have to read to the bottom of this entry to find out how John's students answer the question. Me? I've been struggling with the question all week.

I'm just now applying the first coat of color to a Gustav Stickley plant stand for the next issue of Woodworking Magazine, and I've been beating myself up all week over this piece and my workmanship on it.

The project itself is straightforward and is all familiar ground for me. Whenever I work on a project like this, I try to stretch myself by focusing on some detail to see if I can make it more refined and crisp than before.

For this project, I focused on the curves, and I went to great lengths to get the swoops just right on the aprons and stretchers. And for the most part, I was pleased with how they came out.

And that's when the tenons for the top rails came and bit me on the hinder.

During the final assembly I clamped everything up, drove in the tusk tenons at the bottom of the plant stand and walked away for about eight hours. When I removed the clamps, everything looked good for about a half an hour. Then two of the tenons at the top of the plant stand began to separate at their shoulders. Each one opened up about .006". I think the tusk tenons are pulling them apart. Something was a little bit off in the assembly and there wasn't any good way to turn back.

So I spent an hour on Tuesday morning feeding white oak shavings from my jointer plane into these gaps in an effort to obscure them. After forcing the glue-covered shavings into the gaps with tweezers, things looked better. But they sure as heck weren't "according to Hoyle."

I have to have this project done by Monday, and I have an involved finishing schedule ahead, so I grabbed the stain today and went to work. As the color went on, two things happened: One, I could see my mistakes just as well. You can't fill gaps with stain. Well, I sure can't.

And second, I became smitten with the genius of Gustav Stickley, who designed this plant stand. As the color went on I began to see how the overall piece would begin to look. I stopped seeing the individual components.

So to answer John Economaki's question, I think I prefer a project with beautiful lines to a project with perfect craftsmanship. I want both. Maybe next time.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Here's how John's students answer the question: He told me that virtually everyone he's taught says they would prefer the perfectly joined clunky one.

HI Folks
Just finished a plane I haven't made for a while - a skew mouth miter plane.
This one is for a customer in the States and is made from Goncalo Alves. It features a 6mm thick iron, 50mm wide and has a 38 degree bed with a 20 degree skew.
The skewed bed is a lot of extra work (and the math a real brain-ache!) but the plane performs really well and the skew is a real feature on the shooting board.
Cheers
Philly

The Problem as I see it, with Reproduction Furniture of the 19th Century or even earlier stuff is that everything being reproduced is from museum and they tend to collect high end pieces owned by terribly wealthy people.  It is the best, finest and fanciest furniture ever made and reflects so little of the vast majority of furniture that was used by almost everybody else.

 

 

Museum specimens are wonderful study examples but I have a feeling those pieces reflect less than 1% of the furniture made and actually used.  Shaker furniture seems to be the exception, although I am not a big fan of their furniture.  While there are some fine examples there are also some really ugly Shaker furniture.  I always think of this one chest with a drawer underneath, it looked like a cabinet giving birth to another cabinet, not very sightly.

 

 

And that high end furniture reflects the high end life that the few could enjoy.  For the rest of us there is usable, serviceable and practical furniture that was used and used up.  Not that there isn’t some fine examples of common furniture, I have seen hundreds and hundreds including many well done, finely constructed and thought out pieces built in the latest style and fashion, made for the average customer of the period.

 

 

The problem as I see it is that the woodworker wants to make the very best and many do and get (or at least ask) a high price for their products, again putting them in the context of the past where only the wealthy can afford the best.  A Chippendale High Boy, a Ball and Claw Chair with cabriole legs are wonderful pieces of furniture but I am fairly sure most people can’t afford them.  That doesn’t mean you can make them for yourself, but I think this type of furniture reproduction sets the bar a little too high for most woodworkers.

 

 

And while I could make either of the above, I never will, I have no desire to own one and less desire to make them.  I prefer to make furniture that is indicative of what was made and actually used in everyday life of the common person.  I think I can gain more insight into the past by studying this type of furniture rather than the high end stuff that causes everyone to drool.

 

 

 We also have a twentieth century work ethic that is totally unlike that of a century or two ago.  We work an eight hour day, in the past they worked as long as there was daylight and burned oil on certain occasions like coffin building which had to be attended to immediately.  We now know the difference, back then it was just what was done.  You worked when you could see and didn’t when you couldn’t.

 

 

To our ancestors it was both the process and the product, the process had to be done and the product could be sold or traded for what was needed.  There were standards and fair market value for commodities in the nineteenth century and earlier.  You could buy pork for $0.14 a pound, nails were $0.59 a pound or a Windsor side chair for $4.00 or a Bureau (chest of drawers) was $26.00.  In the late 1850’s in the West the U.S. Army paid $3.00 a day for skilled laborers, above the wages available in settlements of around $2.00 a day.

 

 

I make reproduction nineteenth century furniture, using the same tools, similar materials and traditional techniques of the originating craftsmen, whose furniture I am copying.  I don’t add anything that they didn’t have into the mix, but one thing I can not quite get is the mine set of cabinetmakers of 150 years ago.  If I step on a nail, I will get a shot, I drink clean water and have antiseptics, things not available to our ancestors.

 

 

I work an eight hour day, albeit mostly in the nineteenth century, I know back in my mind I will go home to central heat and air conditioning, a big flat screen and laptop, cold clean beverages and unprecedented medical care.  I can get close to the mind set but there is still that reassurance that if a wound goes septic, I can do something about it and survive.

 

 

They also worked smartly or didn’t stay in business.  They produced quality product or didn’t have any customers.  Certainly crap was produced, it was of bad construction, got used up and thrown away, well actually burned.  Common furniture was produced in great number and on occasion the shop would produce a fancy piece for a well to do customer, but by and large most of the production was for furniture to be used.

 

 

Now our ancestors were not hayseeds that just fell off the cabbage wagon, they were usually well read and liked the latest fashion and style popular in the East or in Europe.  Trends are reflected in the styles of furniture that was available in the time.  Some high style influences can be seen in common everyday furniture as people like nice stuff, they always have and they always will.  But they also wanted good serviceable and inexpensive furniture, stuff they could afford and would actually use.

 

 

 

Can we accurately reproduce the furniture from the past, well we can get fairly close, but there will be something lacking.  It may not be noticeable, it may be difficult to discern and maybe no one can tell the difference.  But there is, we are making this stuff, even if everything else is exactly right, we just can’t know the exact context in which this stuff was made.  And maybe we don’t need to know that, but the more we can know of the framework and matrix in which this stuff was produced, the more history that we are familiar with, the more information we have will make us better at accurately reproducing furniture from the past. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earlier furniture from the eighteenth century and before presents a whole different problem.  If you are going to make reproduction furniture then you need to use all of the tools, materials and techniques of the period.  This means that almost all of the work has to be prepared by hand in order to call it Reproduction Furniture. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the nineteenth century it is a different story.  Much of the material was provided by a saw and or planing mill, so the boards would come sawn and in some instances planed.  The Wadsworth planer, the Blanchard lathe, table saws, band saws, sash saws, grinders, powered by human, water, animal or even steam.  Many shops in the nineteenth century had steam engines powering their equipment.  I get a lot of my lumber from an old sawmill that was originally powered by steam but later converted.  The saw is the same the power source is different. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If we make reproduction furniture it needs to be done using the same methods as the originating craftsmen in terms of materials, techniques and tools in order to call it reproduction furniture, if we don’t, it isn’t.  Is the power source the issue, I don’t know, but I am looking for a steam engine to power my turning lathe, if the freight wasn’t so high having it shipped by ox cart from St. Louis.

 

 

Stephen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I first met Stuart Page at The festival of the Tree last August. He was there for the full 3 days and spent a good portion of his time bouncing between Rob Cosman, John Lloyd and myself. He was very enthusiastic, full of great questions and insight - we all loved having him around our respective booths.

Many months ago, Stuart contacted me to let me know he was planning a 3 month travelling tour of North American furniture makers and toolmakers and was wondering if he could stop in for a visit. It was great to hear from him again and I was quite excited to have him over.

On June 23rd - Stuart arrived in Los Angeles. He has been keeping a blog - curiously named, One hairy arm goes west. One of his first stops was to see Sam Maloof - and I am very envious of that visit. Sam is on that very short list of people I would dearly like to meet (along with Harrison Ford and Maynard James Keenan). And after Stuarts description of their time together - I am all the more green.

He arrived on Tuesday afternoon (July 23rd) around 3. I was on the main floor working away on an A1ss panel plane (more on that in another entry). He had just driven from Calgary... and to use his words - was a little “road worn”.

Stuart was very direct about his intentions the minute he walked in to the shop. He did not want to get in the way of my regular schedule and workday... but was hoping for a “fly on the wall” approach. I was pleased (and a little relieved) to hear this - and it turned out to be a wonderful experience.

At one point, Stuart offered to help in the shop with things that are challenging for someone to do on their own. Hmmmm... a shop helper....?

I need to back up a bit. I have two amazing sets of planes that I am itching to start into... but I am waiting for the last few % of moisture to come out of the Ebony. Quite frankly - I am really tired of waiting... so I started thinking about building a kiln. In the June 2006 of Woodwork magazine (No. 99), Ejler Hjorn-Westh wrote a wonderful article about building a kiln for under $500. This seemed like the perfect project for Stuart and I. I handed him the article and he just smiled... perfect.

Hmmm... where to put it?

We walked around the shop to find an empty spot for a 20"x 20"x 7' item. The best location was the first one we discussed - above one of the 48"to 60" shorts storage areas.

I had some scrap plywood from previous adventures - but we needed two 4'x8' sheets of plywood. I figured I would treat Stuart to the full North American experience and introduce him to the often understaffed “Orange Box”. I shouldn't complain... they did cut the two sheets to size for us.

Anyway - a few hours later - we had a kiln. Here are a few photos.



It tucked in perfectly above the shorts storage - and I didn't even have to move the phone or the furnace switch!



Here it is with the door open.



The baffle is a 1/4" piece of peg board.



The opening on the right is the dry air return to keep the air circulating.

I will be drying a test piece of Ebony to see how it goes. I will certainly post the results - regardless of how it turns out.

Thanks again Stuart for all your help with the kiln and keeping me company between piening, lapping and shaping.

Oh, and the one hairy arm... it really is ONE hairy arm... the other is pretty clean shaven.

Saturday we took a trip to "Buggy Town". Mifflinburg, PA was home to more than 80 buggy shops in the 19th c. with one, purportedly the only one in the U.S,. still intact: W. A. Heiss Coachworks.

I had hoped to see a collection of carriagemaker planes at the museum, but there were none. There was, however, the only treadle-powered table saw I had ever seen. It looked homemade with an odd-shaped, adjustable fence and a fixed board in front of the blade whose purpose befuddled me. I suppose it was used as a stop.

There were some handsome buggys on display, some with fancy paint jobs. The finishers in the factory were commissioned with the most egregious portion of the assembly, not only because applying the finish was so difficult, but because they had to work in an unventilated room on the second floor of an unheated, unairconditioned, uninsulated, wooden warehouse. They had to keep the windows closed while they worked to prevent dust from settling on the finish. 8-10 hour days/6 days a week. Suddenly, my job doesn't look so bad.

The woods used in the buggys' construction were: poplar and pine for the body; oak for the undercarriage; and hickory for the spokes and wheels.

In the last photo, you can see the brake pad pressing against the rear wheel. I asked our guide what they were made from and she said anything from wood to fabric to leather to shoes. And that, she said, is where the term "brake shoes" comes from.

Of course, she may have been pulling my leg....
or my New Balance.