At long last, we now have restocked on all sizes of our chore coats. These are made here in Cincinnati by Sew Valley and are based on a traditional French design. They are nice enough to wear out to dinner, but tough enough to wear in a chilly shop.
When ordering, we recommend you go one size up from your usual. This will allow layering and permit some additional movement at the bench. I normally wear a large, but I have an XL chore coat that is like a second skin (just as soon as the thermometer allows it).
This chore coat is a limited-run item and is not always in stock. If you have been waiting for one, it would be best not to wait.
One of our earliest and favorite books is “The Joiner & Cabinet-Maker,” a fictional early 19th-century account of young Thomas coming of age in a British furniture shop. The book was intended to introduce young people to what the woodworking trade was like (albeit a bit on the sweet side of reality).
When we published the book in 2009 it included sections from Joel Moskowitz about woodworking during that time period to give you some context for the book. Plus chapters from me detailing the three projects shown in the original text. You can still order this book (it’s in its third printing) and we have no plans to discontinue it.
We think it’s an important book that was written by an anonymous joiner or cabinetmaker. Many of the details in the book help explain period practice. Or they help enrich your understanding of the history of your hand tools.
To mark the 10th anniversary of the book, we decided to publish a separate reprint of the original text in its original compact size. And to do it at a special “thank you” price. The book is currently at the printer and will arrive here sometime in September. Here are the details:
To create the reprint, we started with one of the early and (likely) original editions in my personal library. These books are hard to come by, especially the early ones. After 200 years, the binding of this copy was a bit tattered, though the pages were holding together with thread.
So the book was easy to disassemble to do a high-quality scan (the book will be reassembled by a conservator friend).
The original book is small by modern standards – 4-1/8” wide and 6-3/8” tall. And it was printed modestly so that it could be purchased by normal people, not just the elite.
We sought to emulate the look and feel of the original. The binding will be sewn – like the original – in the hopes that our version will last 200 years. The paper is a #55 high-bulk paper that has a nice texture, like old paper (not super-coarse like a terry-cloth towel as some people imagine). The cover is a heavy and textured paper that is made in the USA with wind power (from Mohawk, one of our favorite mills).
And the cover will be debossed with a gold diestamp.
But Why? Since we first published “The Joiner & Cabinet Maker,” customers have asked if they could buy the original text alone – without the modern chapters. Some readers had no interest in what Joel and I had to say (fair). Or they couldn’t afford the $36 (also fair). But we couldn’t afford to do this sort of project when we were a young company. Now we can.
“The Joiner & Cabinet-Maker: Original Text” will cost about $12 when purchased by itself. And we will offer it at a special price when bundled with the modern book (likely $44 for the bundle).
You’ll be able to tuck this little book into your tool chest for whenever you need a period rush. Or you can give it to a young Thomas who might want to experience the period like an unfiltered Camel.
I don’t have many more details today, I’m afraid. As soon as we have a printing date, we’ll open up pre-publication orders.
Note: This edition will be limited to a short run. This is a special edition at a special price. Once it’s gone it will be gone forever.
Thanks to two industrious woodworkers, “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” has become our first book to be translated into another language.
Titled “Die Werkzeugkiste des Anarchisten,” the book is published by HolzWerken and is now available for sale. It was translated by Andy Kevill and Martin Gerhards who spent a great deal of time trying to get the tone right, as well as the technical stuff.
I’m pleased also with the look of the book – the publisher took pains to capture the feel of the English edition. This is somewhat unusual. Many times translations become something else entirely. And sometimes it’s horrible.
Other publishers have approached us about translating some Lost Art Press titles into French, Korean and Chinese. So who knows what other culture will learn about tube tops and tool-shaped objects?
Number One Chairs by Michael Fortune (photo by Michael Cullen)
At long last, our printing plant has shipped Marc Adams’s new book “The Difference Makers” to our warehouse. The book is en route to Indianapolis and should arrive at the dock on Monday or Tuesday.
After it arrives, our warehouse staff will immediately fill all the pre-publication orders. I don’t know exactly when that will start, but it should be quick.
If you have been thinking about buying this book, this is the last chance to get the pdf of the book for free. After Tuesday, the pdf will cost an extra $18 when you buy the book.
We are excited to see this book for many reasons. As a book nerd, I can’t wait to see how well the photos reproduced on the heavy #100 Endurance silk paper we picked out for the job. The photos should be gorgeous. Plus, we’ve never printed a book in an 11” x 11” format.
Like all Lost Art Press books, this one has been an emotional and technical challenge for everyone. Marc spent years gathering the stories and writing about the 30 makers featured in this book. Marc and our editors spent almost as much time gathering, editing and getting permissions for the hundreds of photos in the book, many of them published for the first time. And our prepress people have wrestled with this book since April, trying to get it on press at a printing plant that has been disrupted by new ownership.
I’ve read the book several times already during the editing process, so I already know it was worth the effort. And I hope you do, too.
The living room. The floors are done and covered in paper. New baseboard is on the sawhorses (the existing baseboard is being recycled to another part of the apartment). The fireplace is a disaster-in-waiting and needs replacement.
I’ve restrained from posting about the renovations above our storefront this year because it could take over this blog. And no one (including me) wants that.
A short and sweet update: We are due to move in at the end of the month. Our house has sold in Fort Mitchell. We are in the midst of selling my dad’s house in Charleston, S.C. And I am still wrapping up my father’s estate. So I’ve had my fair share of real estate agents, lawyers, accountants and tax collectors this year.
The good news is that the general contractor I hired isn’t on that list of people who stress me out. I spent a year researching contractors, asking every tradesperson who they like working with, and who has the sensitivity for a historical job.
I picked Bill Kridler of BK Remodeling, who runs a small crew and does quite a bit of work in Covington. If you have a job in Northern Kentucky, I cannot recommend him enough.
Oh look, at some point the kitchen caught fire. Here they’re patching the damage, which was then toned to match the old floors. Those cabinets are…something else.
The Historical 1980s My first urge when designing our living quarters was to rip everything out and start from scratch. That might have been cathartic and simpler, but during the last four years, I’ve come to respect the building’s owner during the 1980s, a jazz musician, who did the first remodel. He was on the vanguard of people who took a chance on Covington, then a scruffier place. And the neighbors always recall being awed when visiting his apartment above his bar.
So I decided to retain his floorplan and work with what we had on site. That meant restoring the original pine floors (instead of new oak ones). Plus keeping the bedroom and closet arrangements he set down in the 80s. We’re attempting to live with his kitchen layout for now. This approach is a lot less wasteful. The contractors haven’t had to rent a dumpster and have filled only 10 trash cans with debris (mostly rotted plaster) during the whole project.
Some stuff, however, had to go. The spiral staircase went to the steel recycler. One bathroom had to be re-tiled with a new vanity (and oh look, a secret compartment with drugs left by a former tenant). And the existing windows – all 20 of them – are inexpensive 1980s junk that was installed poorly and have since rotted. New wooden windows arrive next week.
All of this is to say: Please buy more Lost Art Press books! Just kidding. I’ve been saving for this project for years.
When we move in, the place will be rough and still a construction site. That’s OK. Lucy and I have been through this before. But living there will also give me a better feel for the space and the changes I hope to make.
Mostly, and this is the woodworking content, I am desperate to live closer to my shop. The last three years have been agony for me in the evenings with me living in Fort Mitchell and the shop being in Covington. I miss going to the shop at night and doing some fussy detail work. Or machine maintenance. Or just staring at my current project and plotting my next move.