During the last few months I have pushed my work back into the realm of the old-style stick chairs that caught my attention in the 1990s. This latest example explores what I love about the early lightweight chairs, which were built with whatever materials (Branches? Curved sticks?) were available.
This chair is built using black cherry from the Ohio River Valley. It is assembled using hide glue, so the joints are reversible should it ever need repairs (in 100 years or so). Like many early chairs, all the components are shaped by hand, and so this chair has a lot of texture.
When we published “The Book of Plates” years ago, we received many questions from customers as to why they should buy a book filled with pictures of dinner plates.
“Plate” is, of course, an old word for “engraving.” And the pictures in the book were not of dinner plates, but of the drawings in A.J. Roubo’s “l’Art de Menuisier.”
But today we’re going to talk about a delftware dinner plate from 1769 that shows an interior of a nice woodworking shop with lots of tools, a workbench and (perhaps) a zombie attack.
The plate appeared on the cover of The Magazine Antiques’ May 1981 issue and was in the collection of James C. Sorber, a well-known Pennsylvania collector. I learned about this plate from Dan, a woodworking comrade in Texas, and so I bought an old back issue to examine it.
Delftware has its origins in the Netherlands, and so it didn’t surprise me to see a Dutch saw hanging on the back wall of the shop. The other tools on the back wall are typical for the time, including the chisels with the fishtail blades, the braces, the nail pincers and the dividers.
The workbench is interesting (of course). It gives me a Dutch vibe as well. It bears some resemblance to the one shown in the altarpiece at St. John’s Church in Gouda (circa 1565). The Gouda bench has six legs, with the front three pierced with many holes for pegs or holdfasts. No vises.
My drawing of the Gouda workbench from “The Anarchist’s Workbench.”
The 1769 bench also features three “legs” pierced with many legs for holdfasts or pegs. No vises. But two of the legs are drawn more like sliding board jacks (aka deadmen). Though a bench with two sliding board jacks is unusual – this is the first one I’ve seen.
I’m not sure what tool the woodworker is using on the bench. It looks like a scorp or travisher to me. But I have chairs on the brain.
Also, we have to keep in mind that the purpose of this plate was not designed to educate, but to immobilize some gravy or restrain some pudding.
With that in mind, let’s take a look at the guy to the right. At first I thought he was destroying the picture frames leaning against the wall. Then I looked at his feet, and it appears he is standing on a board. It looks like he’s holding an axe, but it could be an adze. In either case, he really should look where he is cutting, or the artist will have to add some red glaze to the plate.
In fact, I think he looks poised for a 18th-century zombie attack on the workshop. If this plate were indeed made in the Netherlands, then they are probably Spanish zombies.
And now I am going to end this blog entry before it gets too ridiculous.
We are in the final stages of producing our latest tool, a Crucible Planing Stop that is easy to install, looks similar to a traditional hand-forged stop and is reasonably priced (about $49).
I hope this tool will be out by the end of the year, but we are at the mercy of our supply chain, which loves to whip us almost every day.
Here’s why I think the world needs another planing stop.
I love blacksmith-made planing stops, which are embedded in the end of a block of wood that is about 2-1/2” x 2-1/2” x 12”. The block is friction-fit into a mortise in the benchtop and moves up and down with mallet taps.
For me, the planing stop is as important as the workbench’s face vise and has almost-endless uses.
My main problem with a blacksmith planing stop is that it can be tricky to install. You need to drill a stepped hole in the block of wood or heat up the shaft of the planing stop in a forge and burn it into the block. And there is always the risk of splitting the block during the process.
Also, some people think that blacksmith stops are too expensive (I disagree), which can cost $100 to $300.
The Crucible Planing Stop is made from ductile iron, so it can take a beating. Hit it with a metal sledge, and it will not shatter (unlike typical gray iron). The teeth and the angle of the head of the stop are based on A.J. Roubo’s planing stop from the 18th century.
And – this is important – it is easy to install. Here’s how you do it: Buy a 5/8” (or 16mm) spade bit (less than $10). Drill a full-depth hole in the block of wood and remove the sawdust and chips. Drop the shaft of the planing stop into the hole and it will stop about 1” from the bottom of the hole. Knock it with a hammer a few times and the stop will cut its way into the hole and bed itself in place. Done.
It’s a dirt-simple tool, but getting to this point took more than a year of experimenting with hand-forged stops, developing the casting patterns and (where we are now) developing the risering so the liquid metal goes where it needs to go.
RIght now we are trying to get on the foundry’s schedule as soon as possible. We will let you know when the wheels have started moving.
I’ve just completed this comb-back stick chair with some old-school details in black cherry sourced from the Ohio River Valley.
This chair is definitely designed for lounging by a fire or window with a good book, a coffee or a beer. The back is pitched at 20° off the seat, and the seat is pitched to slide your body toward the armbow and the back sticks. If you like lumbar support, this chair has a good deal of it.
Yes, you could use this chair at the dining table. The chair that my wife, Lucy, uses is pitched similarly. She sits up straight while eating and then settles back into the chair as we mull over the day’s business.
The seat height is 17”, which is about as high as I’ll make a chair seat. (If you want it lower I’ll be happy to cut down the legs before shipment.) The chair is constructed with hide glue, so the joints can easily be repaired a few generations down the road. And the finish is an organic linseed oil/beeswax blend. This finish is designed to age and patinate. It doesn’t provide a lot of protection, but it is easy to repair and looks better and better each year.
Stylistically, this chair uses many details found on old stick chairs in Wales and Ireland. Both the comb and the hands of the chair have a shape that’s best described as a circle intersecting an arc. This shape is found over and again in old chairs and gives the chair an organic look.
I’ve also allowed the sticks through the arms to remain proud and have faceted them. They do not interfere with the comfort of the chair, but they are a delight to touch. All surfaces on the chair were shaped with rasps and scrapers, so you will find texture on all surfaces, from the hands to the faceted sticks.
Look for more old-school chairs from me in the coming weeks.
When I make chairs with an old-school feel, it’s nice to leave the through-tenons on both the arms and seat a little proud. Lots of old chairs have proud tenons, which is likely a result of things shrinking and getting worn.
For years, I shaped my proud tenons with a shallow gouge (or a chisel) and a mallet. It worked, but if I struck the mallet too hard there were times that the grain would get torn up and the tenon would be ugly-ish.
Years ago I changed my technique to what is shown here. I think it’s easier and produces better results, but I’m not the best woodworker in Covington.
Step 1: Seal the Surrounding Surface
When I use proud tenons on a chair with a clear finish, I first seal the surrounding surface with two coats of shellac to prevent glue from fouling the arm or seat. It’s a quick process. I rag two thin coats of shellac on the unassembled arm or seat.
After the shellac is dry, I assemble the chair as usual, wedge the tenons and remove any excess glue with hot water and a toothbrush.
Step 2: Saw the Tenons
After the chair is assembled, I saw the tenons so they are all 3/16” (about 5mm) proud of the arm or seat. On the seat, I just eyeball it with a saw. On the arms, I take a scrap of crap 5mm plywood and drill a 3/4” hole through the center. Place the scrap over the wedged tenon and saw it flush to the scrap.
Step 3: Shape the Tenons
Now the fun part. I tape around the tenon. The tape prevents the surface from getting dented. Then I chip away at the tenon with my scorp. I press the scorp’s cutting edge against the tenon and lever the handles up, removing a chip. I work all around the tenon until it looks like I want it to.
Then I pull up the mass of tape with care and place it over the next tenon.
When all the tenons are shaped, I decide if I need to remove the shellac. If I am adding a film finish (such as shellac or lacquer) then I leave the shellac as-is. If I am finishing the chair with an oil/wax blend, I need to remove the shellac. This is easily done by flooding the surface with alcohol and wiping it up with a rag. I do this a couple of times, then lightly sand around the tenons.