Monroe earned a degree in fisheries from Colorado State University before moving to Alaska. Turning down an offer with U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, he built his home, much of the furniture and later worked with master log builder, Lee Cole, in 1977. Building a trussed-log bridge over the following two summers led to his meeting Dick Proenneke – their mutual passion for craft and wildlife kindled a friendship until Dick’s death in 2003.
A graduate of The Krenov School of Fine Woodworking, Monroe has taught woodworking courses around the country and has written articles for Fine Woodworking magazine.
Today Monroe has given up part of his Saturday to answer your questions about woodworking, Dick Proenneke and a conversation he’s been having with himself and others about using tropical hardwoods.
Here’s how it works: Type your question in the comment field. Monroe will answer it. It is that simple.
In a space of just 10” x 39” x 19-1/2”, H.O. Studley managed to arrange – with perfection – more than 250 of his tools into a dovetailed mahogany cabinet that has captivated tens of thousands of woodworkers since it was first unveiled in 1988 on the back cover of Fine Woodworking with a single shocking photograph.
After a brief stay at the Smithsonian, the cabinet was sold to a private collector and hadn’t been seen by the public for well over a decade. Studley’s workbench has never been on public view.
This book is an in-depth examination of one of the most beautiful woodworking tool chests ever constructed and presents the first-ever biography of Studley (1838-1925), a piano and organ builder in Quincy, Mass. It features measurements, details and photographs of all the tools in the cabinet. Every swinging frame, hinged panel and nook of this three-dimensional, multi-layered sculpture has been analyzed so you can understand how it folds in on itself like a giant piece of mahogany origami.
But most of all, you will see the cabinet in a way that only a handful of privileged people ever have. And you will realize that the magazine photograph that electrified the woodworking world in 1988 only scratches the surface of the cabinet’s complete magnificence.
The scale and density of the decorative details in the Studley cabinet limited each element, especially the inlays, to about a quarter the size of a postage stamp.
My late colleague and dear friend Melvin J. Wachowiak, Jr. once remarked that anything made more elegantly than necessary for its usefulness was Art. By that assessment, with which I agree, the Studley tool cabinet is unrestrained Art. There are a multitude of visual and physical moments in the cabinet that did not need to be there. Their presence is either to aesthetically enhance the whole, or to demonstrate the maker’s virtuosity at his craft and his delight in it.
The Inlays To a modern woodworker the tool cabinet might seem opulent, even garish, but in the late-Victorian world of organ and piano building, the exuberance made sense. The material vocabulary is what you would expect for a palette of inlays on a piano-maker’s toolbox: ivory, ebony and mother-of-pearl.
The inlay techniques Studley used on the cabinet were straightforward and exacting. For the round, button-like inlays he likely used a drill bit to excavate the pockets. The inlays vary in size, but most are in the range of 1/4″ in diameter plus or minus, with a few in the 1/8″-diameter range.
Almost all of the 136 ivory inlays are buttons or roundels.
On the right side of the cabinet, where Studley located sets of graduated drill bits, he marked the sets not only with engraved flat ivory roundels but also with half-spherical ivory buttons.
The 217 mother-of-pearl inlays are more evenly divided between buttons and roundels, and pieces of other shapes (alas, I did not conduct a count on that distribution). The shaped pieces were “made to fit,” but there is no way to identify which came first, the void or the infill.
Typically intarsia (a technique by which pieces are literally “inset” into a background) is accomplished by first creating the decorative element, then creating a void to fit that element by scribing the outline of the element on the background and excavating a void. My microscopic examination of the inlays was cursory and inconclusive, but I did not see any tool marks on the background surfaces.
Regardless of their material or shape, on all but a few of the inlays there are no irregularities until extreme magnification is employed.
With enough magnification you can receive a bit of comfort knowing that Studley was not a flawless automaton.
The opulence of using ivory buttons, inscribed with inked numbers to mark the progression of tool sizes (for example, the graduations of the drill bits) is awe-inspiring.
There is place for every drill bit in the graduated set, and an engraved ivory button for each drill bit. Also take note of the subtle but elegant treatment of the bottoms of the spacers between each Gothic arch; the curved double-chamfer is found in numerous locations throughout the cabinet, almost never glaringly obvious.
Concurrently, the mother-of-pearl elements used as mere decoration impart an intense luminescence to the cabinet, especially as the light or the viewing position changes.
The Sculpted Details The strictly sculptural elements of the cabinet, by which I mean those that are rendered and presented to the viewer in three dimensions, number literally in the hundreds. Because it is not possible to rank them in importance or even prominence, I will cluster them into four major areas.
First are the roundels, turned button-like elements scattered throughout the cabinet, never haphazard and always enhancing adjacent elements. There are many different sizes of roundels, ranging from about 3/8″ to 1-1/2″ in diameter. Most, but not all, of the roundels are festooned with round mother-of-pearl inlays at their tips, about which I will speak more in a bit. Each of the roughly two dozen roundels is turned from solid ebony.
The technical and artistic complexity of this one element is astonishing. The turned ebony plugs for the nickel-plated tube (there is one at each end) are adjacent to a series of ebony and mother-of-pearl roundels mounted on sculpted ebony backplates. To carry the power of the accomplishment even further, the swinging tab that restrains the tube in its shaped wire fitting is a spectacular carved ebony “L” with tapered chamfers on both sides of the two curves.
Closely related to the roundels are the drawer pulls and stopper buttons at the ends of the metal tubes containing tools. I include these 17 examples here because, like the roundels, they are small, turned ebony elements.
Second are the shaped decorative elements, which are further subdivided into those that are 1) functionally similar to the roundels in that they are applied to the background, or 2) movable tabs or catches used to restrain tools. Most of these from either category are further enhanced by mother-of-pearl inlays and reflect the element outline as a whole.
Of the first group, numbering roughly 90, many serve to frame a space but others are demarcations between tools belonging to a graduated set, such as the chisels and drill bits. The second group consists of about 50 ebony tabs.
In this single image you can see clearly eight movable ebony restraining tabs, six with inlays, and another five fixed saddles. For scale, the diagonal ebony piece is made to hold a 6″ rule.
The third type of sculptural enhancements are carved elements serving as stand-alone sculptures in their own right. The most prominent of these is the drop pendant that tops the arch above the niche containing the Stanley No. 1 plane. The detail on this element is breathtaking, all the more so when you consider its scale; it is roughly the size of a dime. There are only a dozen or so of these examples in the case, but they are spectacular and attention-grabbing.
The final widespread instance of sculptural exercises in the cabinet includes the arches and their buttresses, most notably around the set of four awls above the Masonic symbol, along with those around the chisels and the two sets of drill bits, which are in the upper right portion of the cabinet on the second and third layers. The arch-and-buttress vignette framing the awls takes its place proudly among the most beautifully designed and crafted artworks I have ever seen.
There are several diminutive carved ebony “S” scrolls in the cabinet, and this one acts as a support bracket where none is needed. Even at this scale, the entire detail is approximately 1/2″ in height, there is a minute chamfer to the edges.
Quantifying precisely the inventory of these decorative details is nearly impossible (is it a series of a dozen arches, or is it a single element of an ascending set of arches?) and frankly not especially useful.
But because you asked, I number the total of individual decorative elements to be in excess of 500.
Perhaps the most gifted craftsman I know recently replicated a single inlaid mother-of-pearl and ebony element from Studley’s cabinet and found it to be a vexing and time-consuming effort. If we fixate on the Herculean labors of Studley we might become obsessed with the mechanistic minutiae of envisioning and fabricating hundreds of stylistic touches, each consuming some quantity of a superb craftsman’s time.
The use of Gothic arches is prevalent throughout the cabinet’s interior, but nowhere is this feature more prominent than in Studley’s presentation of graduated drill bits. Appreciating this decorative feature requires the tools to be emptied to see the bare cabinet and the vision Studley had for it.
Instead I ask you to think of them – and the case itself – as a unified cornucopia in which the whole is infinitely more affecting than a summation of the magnificent individual components.
Editor’s note: There are many more photographs in the book than I’ve shown here of the artistic details discussed above.
Ania, checking out the fit of her backrest prior to sanding.
Last week’s Gibson Chair class – Chris’s first ever – was a rousing success. Only one person broke an arm (it was Chris), and everyone left with a gorgeous new Gibson chair in Ulmus rubra – red elm (with a red oak back rest), ready for finish. (I’m fairly certain every one is using a clear finish – this wood is too pretty to paint!)
But there is one mystery: Some of the sticks loosed some yellow powder upon planing…and we can’t figure out what caused this. I admit to spending but a limited time looking…because I’m busy and surely someone reading this knows! One possibility is “Elm Yellows,” aka elm phloem necrosis – but as far as I can tell from my limited reading, that disease turns the leaves yellow; there’s no mention of powder in the wood. I should also say that it doesn’t seem to have weakened the wood. Also, the powder didn’t bleed more out of the pores after further planing and a wipe-down with a rag. We did not do a taste test.
A single swipe down the stick picked up the above amount of yellow powder.
I’m afraid you’re stuck with me again for the LAP Open Wire this week (though Chris might pop in from time to time to make sure I’m not telling tall tales).
So let’s hear your woodworking, old house renovation and cat-related questions.
Here’s how it works: Type your question in the comment field. I will post my answer. It is that simple.
Before you ask a question, please read this.
If you could limit the number of questions you ask to one or two, that would be appreciated.
If your question is your first comment here, it will automatically be flagged for moderation. Your question will appear after I approve it.
It’s been a busy week – so I might sleep in and therefore not get to the first questions (or approve new commenters) until a bit closer to 9 a.m. Or possibly 10 a.m. Darn it. I woke up at 7 (which actually counts as “sleeping in” these days).
Comments are now closed. Thank for all the questions!
– Fitz
p.s. For the following two weeks, we have special Open Wire guests!
A few excellent axes, with uses and comments. Availability is always the question. (top) Hans Karlsson New Sloyd Axe. 24.5 oz., 4-1/4″ blade, 15″ overall. A sweet-spot carving axe that can be used for carving spoons and bowls. Originally designed by Wille Sundqvist, I suggested lengthening the cutting edge when it went into production. (middle) Svante Djarv Baby Axe. Just 14.5 oz., including the handle. Three-inch blade, 13″ overall. This axe seems ridiculously small, but it’s very effective for spoon carving. And you won’t get tired using it. (bottom) Svante Djarv Little Viking Axe. 28 oz., 5-3/8″ blade, 15″ overall. Another great carving axe that is somewhat larger than the Karlsson New Sloyd. It’s definitely too large for spoon carving, unless you’re an expert.
The following is excerpted from Drew Langsner’s “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now.” In 1978, Drew Langsner first released this book to the world, and it sparked a movement – still expanding today – of hand-tool woodworkers who make things with mostly green wood.
“Country Woodcraft” showed you how to split wood from the forest and shape into anything you might need, from a spoon to a bowl, from a hay rake fork to a milking stool, a pine whisk to a dining table.
After more than 40 years, Drew revisited his long-out-of-print and important book to revise and expand it to encompass what he learned since “Country Woodcraft” was first released.
The result is “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now,” which was expanded by nearly 100 pages and updated throughout to reflect what Drew has learned since 1978. Among many other additions, it includes greatly expanded sections on building shavehorses, carving spoons and making green-wood bowls.
Axes are honorary members of the primitive tools family. Axes are simple tools, but the good ones are also refined, the result of countless generations of use and thinking about specific requirements.Simple means that you need to do most of the work. There’s a definite learning curve, and practice is necessary to develop and maintain technique. As an example of this, you can watch Wille Sundqvist hewing a spoon in 1982 in a video posted to the Country Workshops YouTube channel. The video records Wille at his prime…a world-class axe master who grew up in rural Sweden when men used axes every day.
Safety First! Axes are easily the most dangerous hand tools. This is because they work with a throwing action. There’s accelerated force that doesn’t let off until overcome by friction. When using an axe, you must always be extremely careful – on your best woodworking behavior. During spoon carving, you’re holding the workpiece with your free hand, so you must be extra careful.
The first rule is that your holding fingers must always be on the backside of the workpiece, never gripping around or over the top. This rule always applies.
A few terms. These aren’t official, but offered here so that we understand one another. Axes are one or two handed. Single-handed axes are also called hatchets. Carving axes are single-handed hatchets designed for wood carving. In contrast to a camping hatchet, carving axes are a refined and tuned instrument. “Hewing axe” refers to double-handed axes that can also be a broad axe – heavy, with a massive blade, and a single bevel on the outer side of the cutting edge.
Carving axes are what we’re concerned with here – for working on spoons, ladles, bowls and maybe sculptural work. Broad axes are usually used for architectural work – timber framing and working on log structures. Much was learned about carving axes in the years after the historic Spoon Carving – Then photos of Wille Sundqvist hewing a spoon with my Kent hatchet were taken (in Chapter 26).
This appendix is an introductory guide to selecting a carving axe. Makers and models are provided, but these aren’t exclusive picks. Everyone has their own requirements, and different makers and models are available at different times.
Weight isn’t a major factor with double-handed axes, but it’s an important consideration with carving hatchets. Because they are single-handed tools, all of the grip and heft – power – are concentrated in one hand and arm. This statement seems overly basic. But consider trying to fasten something with one connector compared to using two connectors that are spread apart. The single fastener requires enormous connectivity when stability is a consideration. With a double connection the stress per connector is much less than half.
With a carving axe comfort is exhausted quickly as axe weight increases. This is felt in your hand, wrist and forearm. This is not only tiring, but can lead to a loss of control – even releasing the axe unintentionally. Older users – like me – should be particularly concerned with axe weight.
A carving hatchet should be light enough that you won’t become tired using it. Svante Djarv’s Baby Axe weighs less than 1 pound, with the handle. Spoons are small things that don’t ask for a big axe.
The cross section of a carving axe handle is critical to the user’s comfort, especially after the first minute or so of use. I’ve been trying to understand what makes the perfect feeling/gripping handle cross section going back to before Country Woodcraft was originally written. I still haven’t figured this out. I have favorite carving axes with handles that contradict one another.
A broad hatchet (a) is beveled on one side. The inner flat side can be very slightly convex from poll to the cutting edge. A standard hatchet may be reground with asymmetrical bevels (b). It’s important that a line extending straight from the inner bevel doesn’t run into the swelling on the head for the handle. This is the blue line on the drawing.
Balance. One of the problems with the Kent axe is that the head hangs below the axis of the handle. It always wants to flop downward. It also has double bevels, so you need to hold it at a rotational angle for the edge to slice wood. This means that you’re always expending energy to correct the hanging angle. The problem is – sort-of – remedied by increasing the size of the poll, the hammer-like protrusion at the top of the axe head. But this increases the weight – probably not a significant problem in the past when axe users were tough and strong.
Angling the piece being axed partially solves the problem. Then the axe swing is closer to plumb.
Balance comes about with good design. The axe head shape, and the angle of the eye relative to the handle, can be made so that the handle axis is in line with the center of gravity of the head. The objective is that the axe can be deployed at a rotational angle without needing to physically pull it into the desired plane. This can take various forms, all with pros and cons, of course. The carving axes in the photos all have good balance.
The reproduction 10th-century Viking axe (shown on page 99) has exceptionally good balance. The original was probably an all-purpose tool, used for butchering, fighting and even woodworking. The axis of the handle is in line with the center of balance of the head. This means that it can be swung in any direction, without the distraction of the head wanting to angle downward.
Bevels. There are three possibilities – symmetrical double bevels, single bevel and hybrid double bevels. A symmetrical bevel is the most versatile configuration, even allowing a moderate scooping action. But it requires angling the axe to get a controlled, supported cut. This is where axe balance is consequential.
The single-bevel version is known as a broad axe or broad hatchet. It’s like a chisel used with the flat side inward. There’s minimal angling needed for getting a controlled cut. This makes single-bevel axes easy to control. Gravity does much of the work. It’s possible to hew a convex shape, but concavities are out of the question.
The hybrid version is sometimes called long and short bevels, or asymmetric bevels. The inner bevel is longer and at a lower angle than the outer bevel. These often come about as a user-made modification of a symmetrical-bevel axe. With this configuration you get some of the advantages of the double-bevel and single-bevel variations.
With any of these three configurations it’s important that the inner bevel is flat. If the inner bevel is convex – slightly curved from cutting edge toward the head – you would need to tip the axe outward to get it to cut. Then you lose support of the bevel during the cut. The axe will tend to bounce away from the work.
There’s some confusion in the broad axe realm as to what version is right- or left-handed. Right-handed means that the left side is the flat side of the head when the axe is held in your right hand. The bevel is now on the right.
This is my favorite broad axe, used to hew most of the logs for our house. The hickory handle is bent away from the blade, to give clearance for your hands passing the hewed log surface. The maker is unknown.
Clearance. There should be some clearance when you hold a straightedge on the inner bevel – or the flat side – laying the ruler from the cutting edge toward the eye of the head. The straightedge shouldn’t bump into a bulge at the eye for the handle. This doesn’t matter with very light axe cuts, but it’s a disqualifying factor if you’re using the axe with enough force that the eye of the axe head passes the work during each swing.
Clearance is a design problem, not impossible to solve, but annoying to get right for some toolmakers. Clearance can sometimes be jimmy-fixed by regrinding the angle of the inner bevel on an existing axe head.
Cutting edge curvature. Axes are most efficient when used with a slicing action – the wood fibers are cut in succession and at an angle. That’s the reason for the curved cutting edge. The cutting angle is also regulated by the angle of the edge relative to the handle axis. And to how the user swings the tool – a matter of skill and preference.
