Thanks to a clever idea from our friend Roger Davis, we’re well on the way to once again offering Crucible Tool Pinch Rods (the brass on our former offering has become prohibitively expensive). Shown here is the second prototype. They work, but not as perfectly as possible, so we’re still working with Craig Jackson at Machine Time to perfect the locking/sliding mechanism.
One of the cool things about the tool is that you can expand its capacity with inexpensive 1/4″ keystock. Our version will come with two 12″ rods (as shown above) – but for less than $20, you can get two 36″-long pieces of keystock to check the diagonals on larger casework. (And of course it’s available in other lengths as well.) Then cut or grind a bevel of about 60° on the business ends so they fit snug into the corners.
In case you’re not familiar with pinch rods, it’s a more accurate way than, say, a tape measure to check that your corners are square. Nestle the pointy ends in two opposite corners, lock the screw, then check that the tool fits perfectly corner to corner on the other diagonal (then adjust your case as necessary before the glue sets, and check again).
Whew – it’s square (good thing, because this glue has been dry for months!)
I also use pinch rods to “measure” the length of a case inside, say when I’m fitting another things inside it, such as a till bottom in a tool chest. I set the pinch rods for a snug fit end to end, then use the tool to mark the length on my bottom board. I don’t care what the number is – just that the measurements match.
Our best guess is that the new pinch rods will be out in the summer. No word on pricing yet.
Ever since we sold out of the original 12″ x 17″ deluxe editions of “With All Precision Possible: Roubo on Furniture,” Chris has been itching to do another luxurious book…if perhaps not _quite_ so extravagant (the almost-full-folio size of that edition was crazy expensive). Instead, we’re working on a new quarto-size edition (9″ x 12″), with gorgeous acid-free #100-pound interior paper, and plates printed in their full sepia glory. The signatures will, of course, be Smyth-sewn, and the end papers will be printed with images of a few of the plates.
The cloth cover for the boards will be Verona Blue Jay (a vibrant cobalt blue) with a gold foil stamp; the headbands will be blue and gold.
Then, we’re wrapping the book in a gloss laminate dust jacket (shown above)
While at $125 this new edition of “With All Precision Possible: Roubo on Furniture” won’t be inexpensive, I think when you see it you’ll agree it’s worth the price. It’s going to be resplendent – and built to stand the test of time, shop and kids (as well as look great on your bookshelf).
The new deluxe edition is at the printer now; it is due in our warehouse in March.
– Fitz
Clockwise from left: Proof copies of the dust jacket, cover die stamp and end papers (atop the interior pages).
p.s. Translating Roubo is the most expensive and sprawling project we’ve been involved in – and it is ongoing. Don Williams and his team are working now on the remainder of the volumes. If this deluxe edition of “With All Precision Possible” is well-received, we’ll offer suitably fabulous editions of the forthcoming volumes as well, and of “To Make as Perfectly as Possible: Roubo on Marquetry.”
A few years back (OK – more than a decade ago), we shared designer Wesley Tanner’s instructions for opening a new book with a sewn binding:
“The first thing I do when I get a book like this with sewn signatures is to ‘open it up.’ I remove the jacket off and lay the book on a table (admiring the lovely silver stamping). Looking at the top or bottom edge at the spine, I find the middle of the first section, and open the book with both hands gripping the outside edges of the pages, and gently ‘break’ the glue that has seeped through the sewing holes. I only open the book far enough to do this, about 80 percent of the way down to flat, as I don’t want to wreck the spine. After I’ve done two or three signatures I start from the back, as this will counter the natural twist the book’s spine will get after reading the book straight through. After that, the book should lay open on the table when I go get another cup of coffee.”
The method in the graphic at top isn’t so different. It, too, requires a table and just a bit of care.
Neither method calls for more than a few minutes’ work – and it will allow you (and your heirs) to enjoy a well-made book (like those from Lost Art Press!) for decades – even centuries – to come.
Peter Galbert just released a new 8-hour video on making his Temple Chair (from either green or kiln-dried wood). Along with his expert instruction – and Peter is one of the best teachers I’ve ever encountered – you’ll get a handbook, as well as full-sized pdf plans drawn by Jeff Lefkowitz.
As I write this, in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, hundreds of attendees and a dozen or so presenters are enjoying the waning hours of the 27th annual “Working Wood in the 18th Century” conference. This year’s theme was “To Furnish a Town: High, Low, and In-Between,” and I was honored to be asked to reproduce for it a piece in the museum collection, a late 18th-/early 19th-century dovetailed blanket chest.
And I was very much looking forward to the other presentations, including CW joiners Bill Pavlak and John Peeler talking about the evolution of style and construction on drop-front desks and dining tables. Curator Tara Chicirda on how 18th-century homes were furnished (and how we outfit those same spaces today). Conservator Chris Swan on how furniture surface decoration and finish has changed over time. And lots more. I love this stuff! (Heck – I even bought a new car in large part so I didn’t have to worry about mechanical issues while driving from Cincinnati to Williamsburg – that’s how eager I was to go!)
Check out the wave on those sweetgum end boards!
I’m not sure if the CW folk consider this chest by an unknown maker as representative as “low” or “in-between,” and I didn’t think to ask. (But because I’ve never met a shell carving I wanted to carve or a marquetry panel I was slavering to make, it’s safe to assume they asked me as a representative of the vernacular, so not high.) Once I got a closer look at the chest, I categorized it as a “high low,” or “low in-between.” The joinery and simple design was well executed, and the dovetails were evenly spaced and well cut…but no city joiner would have chosen sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) as one of the primary woods for this piece. You know how we often say, “Wood hates you?” Well sweetgum loathes the very thought of your existence.
The maker used Southern yellow pine for the front, back, top and plinth; the sides and bottom are sweetgum. Notice the dovetails pulling apart at the sides. That’s the sweetgum working its warped magic. These dovetails are all wedged (the wedges are in the middle of each pin). In most species, that would lock the joints together for generations. I suspect these started pulling apart not terribly long after construction…because I got the same wavy and exciting drying in my sweetgum boards within a day of surfacing it – after it had been carefully dried, allowed to acclimate, flattened in stages to allow for moisture exchange and to accommodate movement, and generally treated like I would care for a sickly kitten: carefully and lovingly. Then the kitten poops on you.
I had to work around the splits – there was but one slab. What you see is all you get!
I was lucky to find a wide slab of sweetgum at C.R. Muterspaw (it’s not typically a commercially available wood), and Shea Alexander of Alexander Brothers tracked down, cut and dried some gorgeous SYP for me. I needed stuff wide enough for single boards for the front, back and ends – those big boards were a lot easier to find 225 years ago, I’m guessing (or not…the original maker scabbed on narrow pieces to the top and bottom to make up the overall width – but maybe that was just poor planning).
This was a big pine tree; the planer is a 20″. And the shop smelled like a Southern forest for days afterward (yum!).
The biggest problem I expected from the pine was sap, and of course I got it. I had to wipe my saw down with mineral spirits after every couple of cuts. But I also had a little trouble with the SYP splitting – so I incorporated that into my planned stage show. I cut and fit all the joinery in our shop, kerfed the pins for the wedges on all but the fourth corner, and cut the plinth pieces and moulding blanks for the underside of the lid (the original had some kind of moulding nailed on around the sides and front, though it’s now missing). I’d finish up the kerfs on stage, then assemble the chest…and enjoy the audience gasps as the SYP split while I tapped in the wedges. I figured if I anticipated the split, it might not happen – a reverse psychology play, if you will, on “man plans, the gods laugh.”
I was so close to ready!
But gosh did the gods laugh…
Two weeks ago, as I was finishing up the prep on my chest pieces and making lists of the tools to pack for the trip (in my Dutch tool chest, of course!), I slipped on an icy Covington city street and snapped my ankle in three places. So instead of driving my new car to Williamsburg, I’m sitting on my couch (crutches within grabbing distance), with my ankle elevated above my heart and recovering from surgery. (Good thing I’ve plenty of editing to keep me busy in the coming weeks!)
Thanks, Zach, for letting me steal your IG snap (but did you have to take one where all my wrinkles are showing?!).
I wasn’t able to do the presentation I’d planned (obviously), but I did manage to cobble together a slide show with voiceover – thank goodness I took lots of pictures of both the original chest and my own build process – and the folk at CW made it work (thank you to everyone there!). Then I Zoomed in for the Saturday morning session, and took questions afterward. (It’s weird to watch yourself on screen.)
I plan to get back to the chest build in a few months – I hate leaving things unfinished. I just have to hope the sweetgum pieces haven’t in the meantime warped into hyperbolic paraboloids. But I rather expect them to.
In the meantime, I’ll be here on the couch, writing and editing. The only ones happy about all this are Olivia and Toby.
