After about four years of searching and six months of sometimes-agonizing negotiations, Lucy and I closed the deal on the building that will become our home and the headquarters for Lost Art Press.
We have so much work ahead of us that I thought I was going to puke during the final walk-through of the building at 9 a.m. But the nausea has passed and I’m making a list of things to do and phone calls to make.
It’s time to get busy (OK, busier).
— Christopher Schwarz
Almost every book I’ve written has started out as one thing (a manual on how to use crappy store-bought workbenches) and ended up as something else (“Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use”).
My latest book is no different. It began as examination of furniture forms that have remained unchanged for the last 500 years, what I call the “furniture of necessity.” And at its core, the book is still that.
But as I dug further back into the historical record I began to see a bright string that begins with the furniture of the 12th century, snakes through every century and is tied with a bow to Danish Modern – then it unravels and falls apart with Bauhaus and biometric forms.
Most of all, I found the writing of this book has given voice to my own furniture designs, something I’ve been reluctant to do as a magazine editor or book publisher. (As an author with more guts than brains, however….)
Anyone who has ever visited my house knows that it is filled with many pieces that reflect my stripped-down aesthetic. I don’t like ornamentation. And I try to remove myself as much from the piece, paring things down until I get some heavy Buddhist feedback.
(By the way, I also own some historical pieces – I was an Arts & Crafts collector back in the early 1990s. And I have things that friends have made – potters, painters and other furniture-makers. So it’s not like a scene out of “2001: A Space Odyssey” but in wood.)
I’ve now written this book three times in its entirety and thrown out my two early versions (please don’t ask for them; they are the same place as my first novel). Each time, my point of view shifted as I was willing to walk out a little further on the ledge. When I was in England for 16 days in August, I started rewriting the opening line of the book and didn’t stop until… well, I haven’t stopped.
I have only two short chapters to write. Briony Morrow-Cribbs is working on the copperplate etchings. And then I’ll design the book. It might sound like a lot of work, but this is the easy part.
The most recent thing I’ve been working on is the book’s title and the cover logo. One evening in Sheepwash, Devon, I realized the name of the book I was writing was “The Anarchist’s Design Book.”
And so it is.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Expect this book in January 2016.
Boy, there are some poncy marking gauges out there. I know this is the age of the amateur Woodie, and that Gentlemen’s Tools Rule, but Jeeeez.
All we need is a stick and a stock and cutting blade. Anyone who knows me and my work knows I go for simple tools, and the fewer the better. I spend more time giving tools away to students and mates than buying them. The fewer the better.
An old guy once told me that speed is about picking up and putting down tools. This is about building a collection of decent professional hand tools for a young maker. There is a competition closing date end of November, so if you know a young would-be Woodie 25 or under able to come to the UK for a week for the final, and able to pay the shipping of the chest if she wins …. GO HERE or tell them to GO HERE.
These are the gauges we are putting in the chest. They are simple wooden cutting gauges made by Marples of Sheffield (OK I admit it. I go for British tools, but only if they’re really good). You need about four of these babies in box like this. Two of each. Each gauge would be set up either bevel-in or bevel-out. (Just buy the gauge then turn the blade around to suit.)
Like a marking knife, the cutter has a bevel on one side only The flat vertical faces the job; the bevel faces the waste ALMOST ALWAYS. You need a couple of each because you will want to leave the gauge set up as you move through a process.
Turn this tool into a pencil gauge. Drill a hole in the stock and fit the pencil nice and snug in there. Then you can mark pencil lines parallel to an edge. All for the cost of a pencil
Marking gauges are also popular in this type of gauge. They come with a pin and need sharpening carefully with file. You need a vertical face and a bevel. This is harder to get right than the cutting gauge. Try it and test it on long grain and across the grain; it should leave a clean scribed line in either. The tool makers catalogue says you need both cutting gauge and marking gauge (one for across the grain and one down the grain). Well, they want to sell tools. It is not true.
This is a modern mortice gauge. It has two stems, not one. This is mine, we are not giving this away unless Veritas want to donate one. It’s expensive but very good. I use it a lot for all kinds of work not just mortices. It has a small wheel on the end of each stem (one bevel-in one bevel-out). These turn and give a lovely clean line. They are easier for the beginner to use. What they cannot do is tap and try.
Set the gauge roughly to the thickness of the job, only roughly and tighten the screw. Hold the job in one hand and offer the gauge up to the edge. Say the pin is too wide. Now tap the end of the stock on your bench side and check again. Too small? Tap the other end of the stock. This is the way. Don’t fiddle with adjustments; use you eyes, tap and try.
This is another shiny “gentleman’s” modern gauge from Workshop Heaven. I bought this a while ago hoping I would get on with it. Looks Purty, but I cannot say I get on with it… yet. She took a lot of sharpening to become usable and still needs bit of work.
— David Savage, finefurnituremaker.com
In many pieces of staked furniture, you’ll find extra bits of wood lurking beneath the top that thicken up the joinery area, adding strength to the entire table. I call these – for lack of a better word – “nubs.” Sometimes they are rounded; sometimes rectangular.
In many Moravian and Swedish examples, these nubs are clearly battens that ride in a sliding dovetail – a very fancy and permanent joint.
But in many images from the Middle Ages, the nubs look too round to be sliding dovetails. My first thought was that the nubs were just sections of a tree branch split down the middle. But that seemed crazy to suggest without evidence.
So I was happy when I received the following image from Richard O. Byrne of a table for sale at an auction site – see the whole listing here.
The nubs are clearly sections of a branch or juvenile tree.
Also good news: A photo of the top shows that the nubs are attached with nails. You can’t get any simpler than that (I think).
— Christopher Schwarz
The “By Hammer & Hand” letterpress posters made by Steam Whistle Letter Press are now for sale in the Lost Art Press store.
These 18” x 12” posters are printed on thick paper and were made using hand-carved blocks and vintage equipment in Newport, Ky.
We printed 500. We sold 200 at Woodworking in America and two were swiped (naughty, naughty). The $25 price includes free domestic shipping. The posters ship in a rigid mailing tube.
Once these are sold out, they are gone forever. Order one here.
— Christopher Schwarz
