One of the tool chest forms that has been on my list to explore is the Swedish chest, which I’ve encountered a few times both in the United States and Europe. It’s similar to the Dutch tool chest, with its slanting front lid. But the Swedish one is in many ways simpler.
The chest shown here came from the family of Johan Lyrfalk, who owns Rubank Vertygs AB, a woodworking supplier in Stockholm, Sweden. Last Saturday, he brought it out for us to inspect and measure during a visit to his store.
Note how the bent hasp holds the lid open and accessible.
The chest is most likely pine and it is assembled with through-dovetails at the corners. The top and bottom are screwed to the carcase. The slanted lid is kept flat with two battens that are neatly joined to the lid with blind sliding dovetails. The steel hinges are let into the carcase and are screwed through the lid and into the battens, increasing the reach and strength of the screws.
The interior of the chest is fairly open. There are openings for three drawers (this chest had only two of them remaining). The drawers are assembled with half-blind dovetails (two dovetails per corner). One nice detail of this chest is the top edges of the drawer sides are beveled to the inside. That reduces the number of corners you will bump into when you reach for a tool.
The middle drawer. Note the bevel on the drawer side.
The drawer frame and dividers appear nailed and screwed to the chest from the outside, keeping with the aesthetics of the chest.
The interior walls of the chest are lined with tool racks. And there’s a tool rack on the lid.
How the tool rack on the lid was used was a question among the woodworkers looking at the chest. The lid is propped open by its hasp, which allows the tool rack to be handy. But you’d have to remove the tools to shut the lid. Some speculated perhaps this chest was rarely closed and used mostly in a workshop environment.
Dimensions are: 32” wide, 18-1/2” high and 19-1/2” deep. The top is 11” wide, as is the drop lid. Most of the stock for the carcase is 7/8” thick.
The interior tool racks.
This chest is definitely one on my to-build list. We are always looking for tool chest classes that teach a variety of good lessons for classes (or for publication). The Anarchist’s Tool Chest is my personal favorite to work out of; but as a class, it is mostly about through-dovetails and nails. Even in a one-week class working flat out, it is difficult to get to making the lid, much less the rest of the interior bits.
The Dutch tool chest, as a class, is a more balanced experience. You get some dovetails, dados, rabbets, maybe some tongue-and-groove.
The Swedish tool chest could be a primer on through-dovetails and half-blinds, for the drawers.
I’ll have to build one to find out.
The tool chest at the Vasa.
After we spent an hour poring over Johan’s tool chest, he returned it to its resting place. The next day we went to see the Vasa exhibit. And there, right next to one of the workbenches from the Vasa, was an almost-identical chest (just a little longer). Perhaps the universe is sending me a message.
One of the other suggestions for a replacement for the beloved Hold Heet glue pot is to use a coffee mug warmer, such as this one. I chose this particular model because it has two heat settings that are ideal for heating glue (122°F and 140°F), plus it has a timer and an automatic shutoff.
I’ve used it a few times, but the limitation of this kind of glue heater was obvious from the start: It’s too small to heat more than a little bit of glue. If you work on small projects and need only a few ounces of glue at a time, a mug warmer is ideal. But I had trouble heating enough glue for a chair class and had to break out the Hold Heet.
Honestly, it’s a lot to expect from a $20 appliance that is supposed to keep 8 ounces of coffee warm. It just doesn’t put out enough heat to warm a water bath and a plastic glue bottle. (You can’t put the glue bottle directly on the warmer; it will melt.)
One possible option would be to store your glue in a steel container, which could go directly on the appliance. I tried using a large ceramic vessel but couldn’t get the water above 100° F. The thing likes to heat metal.
So the best option was a steel vessel filled with water and a glue bottle inside.
So, bottom line: It’s great for people who need enough glue for a few crackers. But if you need enough for a big piece of casework, look elsewhere.
With the disappearance of the Hold Heet glue pots from the market, readers have asked for some alternatives that don’t involve purchasing industrial equipment.
I’ve tried several options. This entry is about using a wax warmer that is designed to heat body wax for hair removal. The machine is sold under a variety of brand names, but they all have similar specifications. So while I cannot compare the Aowosa to the Daordaer, my guess is these white sheet-metal waxers are quite similar.
First, the good news: They are inexpensive (less than $50) and they work. Just don’t trust the temperature scale (more on that in a bit). They heat up fast and hold the temperature steady. Like the Hold Heet, there is a removable double-pot with a handle, which makes it easy to keep the pot full of water during long days. The lid is fairly useless unless you heat small containers of glue.
Now the bad news: This is not by any stretch of the imagination professional equipment. Everything is lightweight and thin. I’ve had my Hold Heet for as long as I can remember. It is built like a little tank. I don’t get that same vibe from these wax warmers. I hope I’m wrong.
The main problem is that the temperature scale on mine is not even close. When I set it for 140° F (60° C), it raced up to 180° F. I let the machine run for a couple days to see if there was some sort of break-in period. So far, no. So I put a piece of tape on the scale and marked where 140° really is.
I will continue to use this machine during classes when we heat a lot of glue. And it’s convenient for making small batches of Soft Wax, too. But will I bequeath it to my children at my death? I’m guessing no.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. If someone can recommend a reasonably priced heavy duty unit to test, please post it in the comments.
The drilling jig in use. I cut some more notches in it after this photo was taken, which are shown in the drawing.
I am fairly jig-averse. Not because of some philosophical reason – it’s just not the way my head works. When I look for solutions to problems, “making a jig” is way down on the list.
But sometimes, jigs are the only way forward. Last week I taught my first-ever class in making Gibson chairs. I was an emotional wreck the whole time, trying to keep seven students on track while I revised my lesson plan. But everyone ended up with a nice elm Gibson chair.
In my recent video on making the Gibson chair, I use the same drilling jigs for the Gibson that I use for all my chairs. But when thrown into a classroom environment, the old jigs were too finicky and required too much setup in order to get the arm positioned in the correct place over the seat.
So I went into our machine room for 20 minutes and devised the jig shown here. I’m sure it can be improved, but for now I’m thrilled with how simple and repeatable it makes the process.
It is made from 2x10s from the home center. Here’s a cutting list:
1 Front piece 1-3/8” x 8” x 14”
1 Back piece 1-3/8” x 8” x 17”
2 Top stops 1/2” x 1/2” x 6”
1 Bottom stop 1/2” x 1/2” x14”
Screw the front piece to the back piece in the T shape shown above. Glue and nail the top stops to the top edge of the front piece. Glue and nail the bottom stop to the underside of the front piece. Done.
Now you need to set up the jig so it can be used over and over. Place the jig so it is centered between the mortises for the short sticks and long sticks. Mark on the jig the location of where the seat meets the jig. This allows you to put the jig in the right place every time.
Place the arm on the jig and position it for drilling (as shown in the video). The top stops put the front of the arm in the same plane as the front of the seat. Shift the arm so it is in the correct position over the front mortise (the inside edge of the arm should be tangent to the center point of the mortise on the seat – also shown in the video). Then rotate the arm so its rear mortise is directly in line – a 0° sightline) with its mortise in the seat. I do this with a laser in the video.
Now trace the shape of the arm on the jig. You just made the process repeatable. Shift the jig to the other side of the seat and repeat the whole process for the chair’s other arm.
We are pleased to announce that Monroe Robinson (shown above) is hosting Open Wire this Saturday. NB: He’s a time zone or three behind us – so you might have to wait for answers. But don’t wait to post your questions – we’ll still open things up by 8 a.m. EDT, and cut off comments at 5 p.m. EDT)
When I volunteered to be a part of Open Wire, I thought it would be interesting and fun to answer questions about Dick Proenneke, including aspects of his life not included in “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke.” But when Chris asked me to write a few lines about what I’m currently working on, I realized I had an opportunity to include your ideas in a conversation I am having with myself and others about using tropical hardwoods.
First, a quick life update: My wife, K. Schubeck, and I spend most of our hours during the summer caring for what lies beyond our house and my shop, planting and harvesting our garden, caring for the many flowers, flowering trees and shrubs, picking berries and fruit to freeze, juice or jam. I am trying to perfect the making of intensely flavored jams with little added sweeteners. With each passing year I find myself seeking to share life’s experiences with family, friends and community rather than working by myself.
In September, my friend, Lou Krukar, will visit from Washington to help me make four large dining tables from the most beautiful planks of old-growth redwood I brought out of the forest in the 1990s.
The planks are eight book-matched pieces that were part of a 21’ log that sunk in a local river between 1850 and 1875, when trees were felled with axes and pulled to the river bank with oxen. This log sank on its way to the Big River sawmill and was covered in mud until I pulled it free. The bottom 9’ of the log is wavy grained leaving 12’ of straight and clear redwood above. This will be a collaborative project. First we will crosscut the planks and bring them into my shop to dry under metal roofing. When Lou returns a few months later, we will work on the tables and he will take one home.
Lou Krukar and I will crosscut the 21’ timbers to separate the 9’ x 20”-wide wavy grained end from the remainder.
The tables can be up to 9’ long. Both long edges of the 40”-wide book-matched tabletops will have a pleasing, natural, convex curve.
This is much closer to what clear, old-growth redwood looks like, wet, right off the saw – up to 4’ wide and 16’ long.
On the first day I removed a salvaged old-growth redwood log from the forest in 1992, my partner Roger Moore and I made a commitment that working in the forest would be give and take. I have no reservations of my having lived up to that commitment and am honored to still have many timbers from that dangerous yet special experience. But lately I have been trying to determine the best way to use up a few pieces of precious wood I purchased decades ago, from a place and in a manner that no longer fits with my values. And I am certain I am not the sole craftsperson in this position.
While I attended The Krenov School during its third and fourth years, Jim Krenov spoke a few times about his use of fine woods from around the world. He thought of himself as a single person who used limited amounts of precious woods in the creation of sensitive furniture that honored the wood he used. At the time, I felt as if this interpretation opened the door for my own use of tropical woods. While in the program I made a China hutch from Honduras rosewood (pictured in the introduction of my book) along with a shop-sawn veneered 58” circular dining table with four 12” leaves to match. The two pieces were in the student show at the end of my second year and resulted in my building a similar table for a client. When working up a proposal, I ended up purchasing some wood samples, including cocobolo, Thai rosewood, Andaman padauk and ebony. The client commissioned a 58” circular ebony dining table with eight 13” leaves, 18 folding ebony chairs with hand-caned seats and backs, and a 9’ buffet table that cantilevered from their adobe wall.
Veneered table made from ebony from the Celebes Islands with a hard maple dovetail sliding mechanism.
The sliders for my rosewood table operate as smoothly today as they did 38 years ago. For greater strength and stability, I first sawed the hard maple into strips and then glued them into little glue lam beans. I created a tight-fitting dovetail with a shaper before creating a smooth sliding action with right- and left-handed dovetail planes.
All of the surfaces on the Honduras rosewood and ebony tables were scraped. I first used a Stanley No. 12-1/2 floor scraper I made into a jointer scraper. I then created a smoother surface with thinner and thinner hand scrapers, sharpened with a finer burr. No sandpaper was used. The edge profiles and other surfaces were also scraped. Scraping is perfect for any hardwood that is too difficult to hand plane. I’ve used this process on two large oak dining tables and several coffee tables.
When my client questioned the structure of the 18”-wide buffet cantilevered from their adobe wall, I stood on its outer edge and did a few little jumps. It held solid.
When I built the ebony dining set, I was also writing articles for Fine Woodworkingand teaching a few gigs around the country. I realized I did not want to encourage the use of endangered hardwoods.
I came up with a plan: The retail cost of ebony cost accounted for 10 percent of the entire dining set. I decided I would be willing to build furniture with tropical hardwoods only if I added 10 percent more to the price, which I would then donate to a conservation organization close to the wood’s place of origin. However, future conversations about the impact of tropical wood extraction were enough to sway every client’s interest away from the use of such woods. As such, I have used only local woods for the past three-and-half decades.
That ebony from the Celebes Islands was the last tropical hardwood I purchased. But those samples? They still reside, untouched, on my lumber rack.
As a very young child, I could never understand how people killed almost every buffalo on the plains. What did that do to the people who depended upon them for survival? I wondered. I have maintained a commitment to never be a part of something like that. And yet, despite my convictions, I now find myself having been part of a tragedy of even greater magnitude for the world’s environment and possibly our own survival.
Creating surfaces from beautiful woods has always been what excites me most about working with fine wood. Everything I do beyond that supports the expression of that surface. I have enough of each of the sample woods I’ve mentioned to create a sizable buffet table. I plan to collaborate with a friend, Doug Carmichael, to make a wrought iron base for at least a table or two. Another friend, Tony Perelli, will make two candle holders and a set of hors d’oeuvre saucers to live with each table. Once my friends are compensated I plan to donate at least 50 percent of what remains of the selling price to conservation in the country of the wood’s origin.
Here are some of my questions: Is it possible to get a permit to sell a piece of rosewood furniture even though I no longer have the original invoice? I wish I had never purchased this wood, but I can’t undo what I’ve done. Making something beautiful, to be owned with reverence and knowing that the profit goes to conservation, is the best I can think to do. Any suggestions?
And now I look forward to answering your questions as well!
Finally, if you wish to keep in touch, my email is monroe@mcn.org.
