A carcase is a box-like construction made basically from planks, in contrast to the mortice and tenon construction of posts and rails. Small cabinets, cupboards, bookshelves, wardrobes and chests of drawers are all examples of carcases. The main requirement in anything but a nailed-together job is some form of corner jointing, which will be considered later.
A carcase does not generally stand on the floor (Fig 226) and the sides may be extended to form feet (Fig 227). A box plinth is often used (Fig 228) which may be inset or out-standing. Very common is a low stool (Fig 229) following the table construction and chunky oak pieces can look well on heavy block feet (Fig 230). Corner joints can be avoided by extending the sides (Fig 231) or by overhanging the top (Fig 232). Shelves, either fixed or movable, are generally required and often have vertical divisions. Doors, drawers or a combination of both (Figs 233, 234 and 235) complete the range of possibilities. Backs of some form, from quite elaborate constructions to plywood sheet, are normally the rule (Fig 236). Figs 227-30 require some form of dovetailing in their corner joints. Figs 231-2 avoid this joint, substituting instead a form of mortice and tenon or a dowelled joint.
More than a decade ago, Christopher Schwarz built the “Skansen Bench” as an “I Can Do That” project for Popular Woodworking Magazine; this link will take you to it on the PW site. Skansen, located in Stockholm on the island Djurgården, was the first open-air museum in Sweden. The bench itself is modeled after one from the Älvros Farmstead (a group of buildings from the 16th and 17th centuries that are now part of the museum); Chris saw it in the book “Making Swedish Country Furniture & Household Things” (1990, Hartley & Marks)
The Skansen Bench is a sitting bench, and for years was alongside the dining room wall in Chris and Lucy’s former house. I remember dropping my purse on it just about every visit. Upstairs here, it served as a sort of hall table for a while, then as seating.
But since 2010, he’s built quite a few more low benches specifically as workbenches, including the Saalburg bench and Herculaneum bench that are included in “Ingenious Mechanicks.” So you’d think that when he needed a low bench to demonstrate working on them for Colonial Williamsburg’s Working Wood in the 18th Century conference, he’d have one handy.
But no.
So, Chris combined workholding from both of the low benches from “Ingenious Mechanicks” on the Skansen bench. I’m betting he keeps the new-model Skansen in the shop; he’s been using it a lot to shave chair spindles while sitting (that’s what the stepped block insert is for – the one most people in the conference were asking about).
So now you know the sources behind the Swedish Roman low workbench. (If you decide to make one, do check with your home’s other occupants before summarily cutting into a seating bench and liberating it to your shop. We cannot be responsible for the consequences.)
I’ve been inundated with questions for the live stream Q&A that Chris and I are doing on Saturday at 11 a.m. Eastern on January 30, so I’m afraid we won’t be able to answer all of them before it’s time for our weekly Saturday lunch at Crafts & Vines (outside and socially distanced, of course). So, I’ll be tackling some of them on the blog. Here’s the first.
Q: Where would you recommend for purchasing nails for period pieces?
A: This is an easy one, because as far as I know, there are only two possible answers, and the appropriate one depends on what is meant by period.
From the early 19th-century until the late 19th-century, cut nails were easily available (more easily the later one gets into the century). Today, as far as I know there is but one maker of cut nails: Tremont Nail (now owned by Acorn Manufacturing). So barring reclaimed nails from a salvage place, that’s the only supplier (I think). Tremont nails can be ordered direct from the company, but are available in smaller quantities from some retailers (Lee Valley Tools and Tools for Working Wood among them).
For period work prior to the early 19th-century, the only truly appropriate choice is blacksmith-made nails. But they are not cheap…so I would use those only when I’m wholly committed to authenticity. For these, make friends with your local blacksmith, and expect to pay anywhere from $1 to $3 per nail.
If, like me, your wallet isn’t quite so well-stocked, consider using Rivierre square-shanked nails. These have the look and shape of blacksmith-made nails but at a far more affordable price. They are available in the U.S. from Lee Valley Tools. Another option is Tremont “wrought head” nails. These are tapered, cut nails, but the heads look kind of handmade (and they’re available in a black oxide finish).
— Fitz
p.s. If you want to read a lot more about cut nails and square-shanked nails, and how to use them, I wrote about them at length on the Fine Woodworking blog.
In order fully to understand the workings of the metal plane it is a good idea, particularly for the beginner, to strip down the plane to its smallest component. If you have an old or secondhand plane this is a good opportunity to renovate it. Even if the plane is mis-assembled and maladjusted, no damage can be done to it. Figure 1 shows the structure quite clearly and gives the correct names to all the components. It will be seen that there are three distinct adjustments.
The depth of cut, that is the thickness of shaving removed, is controlled by the cutter adjusting wheel. The wheel running up and down a left-hand thread operates the Y lever. This in turn engages in the Y lever socket of the cap iron (or breaker), which it moves up or down. The blade is secured to the cap iron and is moved by it.
The second adjustment is lateral. The lateral lever has a circular stud at its end. When the plane is assembled it must be made certain that this stud fits into the slot in the blade. Movement of the lever thus moves the cutting edge sideways, preventing one corner from digging in.
The third adjustment is commonly called closing or opening the mouth. The whole frog is moved forward with the blade and the effect is to alter the size of the gap in front of the blade. The lever cap screw should be just sufficiently tight to make sideways movement of the blade with the fingers difficult but not impossible.
I’m not 100-percent sure, but I think Jim sat in on George’s class, “Unlocking the Secrets of Traditional Design,” which covered how furniture is based on a lot of the same proportions as classical architecture (which is turn based on nature – but I don’t recall if he brought that up in the class, or if I’m interpolating from his columns in Popular Woodworking).
I feel a small personal connection with this one; I was there when Jim Tolpin and George Walker met for the first time, at Woodworking in America in 2009 in St. Charles, Ill.
But it might have been George who sat in on Jim’s class, “Measure Twice or Not at All,” which I believe was a talk on the difference between designing for machines and designing for hand work.
Traditional proportional drawing drafted by hand ignores dimensions. It instead relies on simple geometry and dividers to compose an image that conveys the proportional scheme. It employs a vocabulary of proportional notes that we can visualize internally. Because this type of drawing relies on proportions rather than specifications, it moves another step closer to a pure image in the mind. Proportional drawings can provide enough information to execute a build with simple tools; the drawings are organized in a way that meshes with traditional bench techniques. Even if you are adept with digital or industrial drawing, this type of drawing is not a step backward. Instead, it’s a concrete method to begin making that connection with your inner eye.
Our goal ultimately is the drawing that takes place in your head. This is speaking the language of design from the artisan age in its purest sense. It’s what Vitruvius wrote about when he said an architect could see clearly from the instant he conceives it in his mind. It uses a simple language of visual notes to create spatial music to help you acquire the ability to conceptualize internally. This is at the opposite end of the spectrum from the industrial approach – using that ability to spur creativity and provide a practical means of expression. You may still choose to employ modern drawing techniques and (egads) SketchUp, but the goal is to always encourage the flow of clear images from the drafting board in your head.
Make Your Designs Sing This concept of clearly seeing a design in the mind’s eye is a learned skill. Let’s do a little experiment. Take a moment, close your eyes and sing the “Happy Birthday” song silently to yourself. You weren’t singing out loud were you? (If you did, start again and sing it just in your head.) Could you hear it? Think about this for a moment. No audible sound, but you could clearly hear it in your mind. Try this: Sing it silently to yourself again but at a slower tempo. Can you still hear it, only slower? Can you imagine it sung in another voice? How about a deep, clear Nat King Cole version? How about a sultry Marilyn Monroe singing to John F. Kennedy? Can you hear the song played on an instrument? A piano? Try a trumpet. How about bagpipes? Stop! Cruelty alert: Step away from the bagpipes. The point is, you have the amazing ability to visualize already.
You not only could hear the song, but you could manipulate it, express it with different voices and instruments. I’d venture a guess that if you thought about it, you have hundreds of songs tucked away in that stereo in your head. Chances are, few of you have ever formally studied music. In fact, most of us could not write down the musical score for the song. It’s not about notes you can write on paper, but notes you can hear in your mind.
Music at its simplest is made up of a handful of simple building blocks we call notes. Musical styles and genres can span a huge range from Bach to John Lee Hooker to ZZ Top. Underneath it all is the same handful of simple notes. Accomplished musicians, including the likes of Yo Yo Ma, practice the musical scales daily. The scales are nothing more than a note sequence arranged to keep a sparkling clear image freshly imprinted in the mind. Do you doubt that a musician develops a heightened ability to imagine music? The reason we struggle to see spatially is that we never learned a set of visual notes.
Close your eyes again and visualize a square. Can you see it clearly? If not, take a moment and draw a square with pencil then try again. Now close your eyes and imagine two squares side by side, one next to the other. Now imagine two squares arranged one on top of the other. Can you see the squares clearly? It doesn’t matter how big the squares are, or whether they float in space. They can be solid or simple line drawings. The important part is that you can see them. Now do the same visual exercises again, only this time imagine a circle. Then visualize two circles, a pair side by side, and a pair one on top of the other. Consider the circle and square to be interchangeable. There’s lots more to say about the circle later, but for now all you need to realize is that they are both easy to visualize. Congratulations. You have just taken baby steps in learning to see. You have just imagined the visual notes that bookend the range of our visual scale. The single square or circle begins the sequence, and the double square or circle completes it. In between are a handful of intermediate notes. The circle and square are the basic building blocks, and though it might seem like a small step to you now, in reality you’ve taken a giant leap toward unlocking your inner vision, and toward making your designs sing.