What do you think of this clock!  Nice isn’t it.  Yes and no.  Yes that is my house and no I didn’t build it.  This is a Shaker clock built by Glen Huey for Popular Woodworking issue number 163, 08/01/2007.  As a woodworker, I have a strong aversion to purchasing furniture.  When I see a piece of furniture that I like, I say to myself “I can make that and I will be able to justify a new tool”.  The piece goes onto my list of things to build which is presently, six months behind!  So when recently visiting Chris, I noticed this clock that was still sitting in the office.  After some pleading, I was able to take it home. 

Now, when sitting in my favorite chair looking at this piece I feel inspired.  When I look at pieces I have built, I tend to focus on what went wrong.  I say to myself, heck there is that gap that was caused by…or, if I do that next time I won’t make that mistake again…on and on.  When I look at this clock I see what is right.  I notice different things and think “how did he do that”?   I grab that article and find the answer.  I am also inspired by the dimensions and can use the width/height ratios or the size of moldings on the waist or hood to help me design a new piece.  It is nice to see something in my own house that encourages me to get up out of the chair and as Glen says, build something great!

-John

During the last 12 months I've taken on a lot of extra freelance work. The money probably should be going into my children's college fund, but instead I decided to spend a chunk of it on a traditional beech plow plane from D.L. Barrett & Sons in Barrie, Ontario.

Dan Barrett is a 25-year veteran of the trades and has been teaching woodworking and making handplanes for a long time. His sons, Kyle and Jeremy, are both involved in the business. Kyle has been building planes while Jeremy has been doing some machining.

I first stumbled on this family business while judging the toolmaking contest run by WoodCentral and sponsored by Lee Valley Tools. Kyle, who was 18 at the time, built a Mathieson bridle plow plane to enter in the contest. In my opinion, the plane stole the show.

Not only was it stunning to look at, it worked extraordinarily well. Some tools have a break-in period where the user and the tool circle each other like sharks. The results are inconsistent. The adjustments are difficult. The tool feels out of place in your hands.

Not so with this plane. When I picked it up during the contest, it was like I had owned it my entire life. With two taps of a mallet I set the iron and began making a beautiful groove in a maple board in the Lee Valley boardroom where we were judging the contest.

We awarded the plane first place in the craftsmanship division, but in my comments I declared the plane to be the "first among equals."

After the contest I was stunned to learn that the maker was just 18 years old. I sent him an e-mail and asked him to make me a bridle plow. I didn't ask the price because I didn't really care.

A couple weeks ago the Barrett family dropped the finished plane off at my office while they were on their way down to Florida for a vacation. The plane they delivered – my plane – is somehow even better than the one in the contest.

Here you can see the iron, skate and depth stop of the plow plane.

The plane comes with a full set of eight A2 irons (1/8" up to 5/8") and they are gorgeous pieces of work in and of themselves. Perfectly tapered. The faces are all flat.

The plane's stock is a single hunk of quartersawn beech with an exquisitely shaped tote. The fence is also beech with a piece of boxwood attached via a sliding dovetail. The fence slides on two ebony stems and locks down with the metal bridle. This bridle mechanism is, in my opinion, superior to a screw-arm plow. With screw-arm plows it's difficult to get the fence parallel to the skate.

This week I finally got an opportunity to sharpen up the irons and start using the plane. And once again, it's like I've owned this tool forever.

I'll be writing about this plane (and its maker) for the next issue of The Fine Tool Journal, so I don't want to spoil all the surprises. But if you're looking for another maker of fine traditional hand planes, I definitely recommend you consider D.L. Barrett & Sons.

— Christopher Schwarz

Here's a shot of the exquisite bead and astragal on the plane's fence.



The bridle locks the fence squarely to the ebony stems every time.

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?

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 

John completes the Trestle Table

I must admit that I do not like the corbels on Chris’s trestle table.  I don’t like the way the ends look rounded.  Being a smart guy, I just incorporated the width that the corbel adds to the stretcher to get the total width of my version.  My finished stretcher was 7” wide instead of 6” that Chris stated in the plan.  That said I was ready to paint the base and put a finish on the top.

Then I got a chance to speak to Chris and proudly told him my artistic change.  His response caused a pit in my stomach.  He said there was a reason for the 6” width.  It was to avoid hitting your shins on the stretcher when you extended your legs or hitting you knees when you pushed your chair in.  Gee Whiz!  I acted calm and as soon as I hung up the phone I grabbed a chair and shoved myself under the top.  I was ok with the shins test but hit my damn knees on the stretcher.  Yep I only needed an inch more of clearance.

There is a reason for some things in a plan.  I seem to never follow a plan exactly but within a plan there are usually a couple of hidden reasons that may not come clear until a mistake is made.  To remedy my situation I cut a slow curve on the base that reduced the width by an inch at the center of the stretcher and curved out to 7” where it met the leg braces.  You can see in the picture what it looks like.  I put two coats of black paint on the based then two coats of a dark green.  I covered the top in Boiled Linseed Oil and wet sanded it with 600 grit sandpaper.  I then used six coats of an oil based varnish.  Six coats because of the continued difficulty in getting a perfect streak free finish in a top this long.  It is still not right but I threw out the old table and the wife and kids returned from vacation.  Oh well, it can be put on the “to do when I have spare time” list.

-John

I was able to get a resource for the ramped mortis I used when installing hinges on my plane cabinet.  As you recall I ramped one side of the mortis to accomodate the non-swaged hinges.  This of course was not an original idea of mine and it generated some great thougths on the blog.

Below is a page from Charles Hayward's “Carpentry for Beginners”.  If you look at figure 2 you can see that he is showing a ramp for one side of the non-swaged hinge.  The file is a word document.  I was unable to post the picture directly onto this blog, sorry about that.  If you have any trouble opening it please let me know and I can email it to you.

Regards
John


Hayward.doc (926 KB)

When you design a piece of furniture to build, there are three well-worn paths (some might call them ruts) to follow.

The first path is to design a piece in a wholly original style. This actually happens about once or twice a century, and its rarity is why we don’t have furniture styles such as “Early Bill,” “Middle Chuck” or the “Late Butch Period.” Few people alive can claim they have successfully launched a style, but don’t let that stop you from trying.

The second approach is to build replicas, either spot-on or with mild alterations, such as an additional drawer, or substituting a square ovolo moulding for a bead. This is a good way to learn the vocabulary of different styles, though it is time-consuming to learn everything by the doing. Some woodworkers (even professionals) might build only six pieces in a year.

The third approach is to design a new piece with vintage parts, like rebuilding an old car. With this approach, you expose yourself to hundreds of images of the form. You could look at tables, cabriole legs or Arts & Crafts desks, for example. Then you select your piece’s dominant element from the library – say a leg, a door or a bonnet – and design your piece around that. (However, you can’t easily mix parts from different genres. It might seem like a good idea to put a Honda push rod in a Chevy, until you hit that metric barrier.)

When asked the secret to good design, Steve Hamilton, a builder at Mack S. Headley & Sons (headleyandsons.com), boiled it down to two words: “Picture books,” he said. “Get a bunch. Look them over.”

Design on the Run
Designing a suitable early American wall cupboard for Woodworking Magazine began with a day in our collection of books and images. You don’t need to spend a lot of money to build a book collection, most of the resources you need are at the public library and on the Internet.

My first stop was Wallace Nutting’s “A Furniture Treasury.” This book is available in many different forms, and it’s common to find copies for about $25. The book is as-advertised. It’s hundreds of pages of images of early American stuff that has been organized into categories such as “chests” and “Windsor chairs.”

The second source was auction catalogs from Christie’s (christies.com) and Sotheby’s (sothebys.com) auction houses. The catalogs these houses publish for their Americana auctions are outstanding. Good images. Good overall dimensions. And good history lessons as well. These catalogs can be pricey at $50 or more, but you can usually browse the catalogs on the Internet for free, though sometimes you have to register with the auction house (registration is free).

The third source was an old favorite of mine from my grandparents’ library: “Fine Points of Furniture: Early American” (Crown) by Albert Sack. This common book can be had for about $10 – the new revised edition is much more expensive and rare. Sack’s book compares different kinds of pieces and ranks them as “good,” “better” or “best.” This book helps hone your tastes in mouldings, proportion and turnings.

After a day of reading, I chose a fetching tombstone door from Nutting’s book and found many tall and skinny shapes for wall cupboards that looked like pieces I had seen at Winterthur, the DuPont’s Delaware estate and museum.

My design firmed up when my doctor got too busy for me one Wednesday. After showing up for my appointment, I was told there would be an hour delay. So I sat in my car and sketched about 10 wall cabinets. I didn’t worry about dimensions or joinery, just the overall look and feel of the piece. Each sketch took about five minutes and tried out variations on the door (one or two?), the drawer (one, two or none?) and the width of the stiles and rails (chunky or light?).

After those sketches, I chose the best two designs, sketched them again and showed them around to woodworkers and friends. It sounds like a lot of work, but I have found that good design is like making stir fry: You first chop vegetables and mix sauces for a long time. The active cooking time is real short – if you’ve done your prep work.

— Christopher Schwarz

Here are pics of the completed Plane cabinet.  I haven’t forgot the issue that was raised in the comments section related to “ramping” the mortis  I will get back to that when I have something intelligent to say.  Here are some “learning points” I got from finishing this project. 

I had a problem installing the molding around the lid.  The problem started when I discovered that the lid was a hair too narrow in width, meaning the molding would not go over the box.   As with most of my mistakes I have no idea how this happened.   No problem, I figured I would plane a shallow rabbet into the area of the molding  that went over the box.  This worked.  Great , on my way to my next mistake.

When making the molding for the lid of the plane cabinet, I thought it would look cool to angle the outside edge of the molding. Not a big deal, just run a plane on half of the molding along it's length. The result, the molding is thick where it is nailed to the lid and tapered where it covers the box.  Being very proud of my use of my planes I cut the mitres for the corners and put my new shooting board to work.

That's when my next mistake appeared.  When trying to plane the mitre I could not get a perfect 45 degree joint.  I would run the plane on the mitre and it made a nice cut.  I put the two pieces together which did not result in a tight joint.  I continued to repeat this process getting the same result.  As much as I tried to get a straight mitre, and as much as I checked and rechecked the trueness of the shooting board I could not get the damn thing right!  Then I realized that I had created a compound mitre by tapering the molding before making the mitres.   The molding sat on the shooting board at a non 45 degree angle causing the problem.  I am sure there are a number of  people saying “no kidding” or some variation…  I should have waited until the molding was attached to the box then used the plane to taper. Once again a time consuming mistake but lesson learned.  And once again, it wasn't the tools.

I got cast iron handles from Lee Valley that came with wood screws. I was concerned that the weight of the cabinet full of planes could be too much for the screws.  I consulted Chris who said "since they are not my planes...Go for it!" I chose instead to use brass machine bolts with nuts and washers.

Oh, one last thing. The raised panel moved inside the lid frame. To solve this issue, I shot a brad into the center bottom area of the inside side of the lid, stopping this movement. I put a coat of oil onto the walnut then took 600 grit sandpaper and sanded a second coat of oil into the walnut. This leaves a touch-ably smooth surface.  When the oil is completely dry I will add two coats of varnish.

-John

John is explaining a problem installing non swaged hinges…

I recently completed a plane cabinet.  Yes I actually completed something!  This was a cabinet following Chris’s plans, that holds all my planes. I made it out of walnut which has become my favorite wood.  Anyway, I needed to put quality hinges on the lid and since my past experience with no-mortis hinges caused me to turn the air blue, I went with a traditional hinge. I hoped to avoid one of my last problems, that of sheering off the head of the cheap screws that came with hinge leaving the shaft in places that were very important.  When this happened last time the shaft of the screw could not be removed which resulted in having to move the hinge and of to keep symmetry, I had to move the hinge on the other side. So that is the end of those type hinges.

This time I bought high quality extruded brass hinges. The only hitch is that the hinge is not swaged.  This means when the hinge leafs are closed there is a gap at the barrel end of the hinge (the area where the two leaves are connected by a pin). A swaged hinge is bent so that when both leaves are closed the touch from the front edge to the barrel. No gap. The issue with non swaged hinges, which by the way were used extensively in period shops, is that one of the mortises has to be formed like a ramp. The ramp will accept this gap at the barrel. The depth of the ramp in the mortis is the distance of the gap. I hope I am not sounding brilliant or confusing.  The picture will show you both the hinge issue and the ramped mortis. 

I placed the hinge on the work and used it to mark my lines for the mortis. I then set my new marking gauge (a Titemark Chris gave me for hunchbacking the Hotlzapffel bench to Maine and back), to the size of the gap. I mark this distance on the edge where the barrel of the hinge will be. This will be the deep end of the ramp. I got out my new Lie-Nielsen 1/2 chisel and carefully started to remove the waste. Having the depth of the mortis marked allows me to have a line to work to. The goal is to lay the hinge into the mortis and have it sit level with only one leaf above the mortis. In the picture you will see the ramped mortis and also see the hinge. This picture is of my second attempt. I blew out the very thin bit of wood on the long side of the hinge. Like the Dwarfs of Moria in LOTR, I dug too greedily and too deep which required a shim to be glued into the mortis to lift it to the correct height.  Oh well one side looks great!

I haven’t stopped working on the Trestle table.  I am almost there and will post a final pic when I get it done.

 

-John

No matter how much (or little) money you have, if you are clever enough you can score an exquisite chisel for about $1.

I was reminded this week when I picked up some items on eBay and had to take a few extra unwanted items in the lot, including three plastic-handled chisels. Two of them were Craftsman chisels that were dead ringers for my grandfather’s 1970s-era tools.

The third was a Stanley 1-1/4”-wide 720 chisel with a translucent yellow handle and steel striking button on its end. Normally chisels like this wouldn’t warrant a second look in a flea market box. But if you take a close look at these 720s, you could end up with an excellent worker.

The trick is to know what’s important and what’s not. Here’s my short list of the key features:

1. The handle has to be comfortable for paring or chopping. The 720 passes this test with flying colors. Its vague Coke-bottle-shaped grip falls right into your fingers in both positions. In fact, when gripping it for chopping, the chisel is comfortable only when your index finger is out of the way of the striking button. The only disadvantage of the 720's handle is that it gets a little slippery when your hands get sweaty.

2. The chisel has to be balanced when you grip the tip of the blade like a pencil (this is the grip for holding the tool for positioning it for light chopping). The 720 is a tad top-heavy for this operation. It’s not unusable, but it's not perfect.

3. The steel should be easy to sharpen and keep a decent edge. Chisels that are too hard take too long to hone. The 720s are good steel. I bought a couple of these early on in the craft and have also sharpened those belonging to students. They’re good steel.

4. The long edges should be narrow. Very narrow. This is where most mid-priced chisels fail. The narrow side-bevels allow you to sneak into the acute corners of the tail portion of dovetail joints. The 720s are generally very good about this. The one I just bough has side bevels smaller than 1/16”. Nice.

Oh, and there’s one more important characteristic: The chisel has to be fairly rust-free (especially on the unbeveled face side). This particular example is a miserable failure as it probably spent a few years in the bottom of a chum bucket. I cleaned the scaling off with a Klingspor Sandflex block and took a look. Craters everywhere.

Oh well, what do you want for $1?

— Christopher Schwarz