The drop ceiling is out. Only the lighting remains. And the modern tile has been removed to expose the original yellow pine floor.
Not everyone has the money to afford one of the special products we’re offering to help fund the restoration of the Anthe Building, our new headquarters. And I’ll be honest: We are uneasy asking for help. It’s not in our nature.
But several readers have asked for a way to contribute directly, without having to purchase an item. Here are two ways. One, you can send money via PayPal to our PayPal account at paypal@lostartpress.com. Or you can contribute directly here. Honest, any amount helps. We are currently cleaning the walls with industrial Dawn and hot water. Even $20 buys us another bottle of purple Dawn and gets us another clean wall.
Thanks to everyone who has contributed to this point. It has made a big difference. Today the HVAC started to go in. And we have been removing the modern drop ceiling and floors in the storefront, which is where we will sell our books, tools and apparel.
The most recent batch of Huck weave towels we bought are terrible. They leave little blue strings behind. Not just a wee bit of lint. Big blue strings everywhere, like I wiped my project with Grover during the high shedding season for Muppets.
I first fell in like with Huck towels when Ty Black, who worked in my shop, brought in a bunch of surgical towels that his (now ex-) wife had brought home from her hospital job. They were listed as sterile. They were amazing. They were soft but had a pebbly finish that was great for rubbing out wax and other finishes. They absorbed lots of material. They were washable and reusable. And I never saw Grover fur stuck to every arris.
So I am issuing a warning about Huck towels. There are so many vendors out there. I cannot try every one of them, but I can fall back on what I know: sterile surgical towels.
The Grover towels at left.
Today I received a shipment of sterile surgical towels from Medline at Home. They were about the same price as other vendors. But here’s the difference. They are the real deal. They are in sterile packs. And they don’t leave strings behind.
So if you have been unimpressed with the Huck towels I’ve recommended in the past, I encourage you to give them another try from a medical vendor. If they are listed as sterile and come in sealed, sterile packs, they are the real thing (surgeons don’t like to leave blue strings inside their patients during surgery).
I apologize if y’all have been afflicted by the Hair-loss Grover towels.
Work began today on the Anthe Building, the 1897 factory in central Covington that is going to become Lost Art Press’ new headquarters in June.
This morning we shot this short video tour of the building before we began work. This is the “before” picture. The “after” picture? We’re shooting that in 2028.
What is important about today is something I have said before but cannot say enough. I am the blabbermouth of this company because I have a voice that carries, the dancing monkey moves and I don’t care what other people think about me. But I am just one part of Lost Art Press.
If it weren’t for John Hoffman, we wouldn’t have a distribution system or outside authors writing books for us. He is in charge of getting books into the mail and getting authors and suppliers paid. It is thankless grunt work. And so I now grunt my thanks at him.
Megan Fitzpatrick, our first employee, has taken over many of the editorial and toolmaking tasks that were drowning me. She usually knows what I am going to say before I say it, and she usually has a better idea at the ready. Thanks to her, I am still able to make furniture and write books, which is my true love.
We also have Kara, who handles all our contracts and writes our author profiles (and who is working with Heather at Covington Uncovered to research the building’s history, which we’ll be sharing here). And Meghan, who handles all the customer service. Thankless jobs all. So thank you.
Plus the dozens of suppliers and retailers who perform miracles almost every week on our behalf.
All of these people were the reason we were able to purchase this building. And they are the reason I am not having a panic attack about it.
Yes, we have a ton of work ahead of us. But all of us together will make it happen.
Additionally, as we fixed up our building on Willard Street during the last eight years, we also built a team of contractors and subcontractors who know what the hell they are doing. Most of these people are older than I am and have been in the trades all their lives. And they know Covington and its unique architecture. And they get things done.
So let it begin.
— Christopher Schwarz
If you would like to help fund the restoration project, we are selling some limited-edition items here.
When I purchased our storefront here on Willard Street in Covington in 2015, I was certain of two things: 1) It was the final old building that I was going to bring back to life; 2) It would be the final resting place of Lost Art Press.
Until this month, I’ve never given more than 2 seconds of thought about what will happen to this company after John and I die. We’ll be dead, so we won’t care.
But this month, it looks like everything I wrote in the first sentence of this blog entry is incorrect. We have just purchased an old woodworking tool factory at 407 Madison Ave. in downtown Covington. This building housed the Anthe Machine Works, which made woodworking cutters from the time the company started in 1897 until it closed in 2019.
The first floor of the Anthe building behind the office. Note the lineshaft, which powers the elevator.
The building is a time capsule, with few modern improvements. Original floors, mouldings, elevator, windows, lineshaft and (yikes) toilets. It is a gorgeous space that is flooded with light. And it has no modern amenities.
The Anthe building has more than 5,000 square feet of space that is in need of preservation and restoration. And it is big enough that it now helps us see Lost Art Press as a multi-generational enterprise.
This building will allow us to bring our fulfillment operations here to Covington and have room to grow (if we want to). By June, all of our inventory will be on the floor of the Anthe building. And we will be able to mail out orders to customers with the same personal touch we bring to everything else we do.
We are thrilled by all this. But we are also a bit terrified.
In order to buy the building, we agreed to take on debt for the first time in our history. It’s not a huge loan. In fact, we will save money by transferring our inventory to Covington. But it is a debt.
More important is that we have taken on an obligation to this building, which is a historic structure with virtually no alterations. The storefront is all frame-and-panel woodwork surrounded by cast iron. The doors – all original. The trim around the windows? The original Greek key steel trim.
Though the building is in decent shape, it needs an almost endless amount of love. It needs a plan for its sensitive restoration. And it needs a lot of skilled help.
So this is the part of the blog entry where I do something I never wanted to do: show my ass.
The purchase of a huge building is something we’ve never done. And here is the other thing we’ve never done: ask for your help to restore it.
The first stage of restoring the Anthe building is to make the first floor a safe and comfortable working space. Plus maintain humidity levels to protect our books in inventory. That means we need to:
Add HVAC to the first floor (with plans for systems on the other two floors).
Pave the gravel drive to our loading dock to allow us to receive and send shipments.
Provide basic amenities. Offer a working bathroom. Add locks on doors that work. Fix the original stairs. Remove some modern “improvements” to the front office.
Get the freight elevator running.
The gravel drive that allows us to load in and out. This needs to be paved.
The building’s original freight elevator. We love it.
To help pay for these initial projects, we are asking for your help. We have four tiers of support, and each tier offers something useful or beautiful in return. You can purchase any of these tiers in our store now. Links below and here.
* A special one-week stick chair class in February 2024 here in Covington. This will also be a food tour as all your meals and drinks will be included. Together we’ll each make a stick chair (you’ll get to pick the design) from some premium wood (not bog oak – I don’t have enough; think maple, white oak, walnut). We’ll have nice lunches brought in to the shop. And we’ll go out every night to one of our favorite places in Cincinnati or Covington. Oh, and there will be a Sunday bluegrass night the evening before. The exact date will be decided by the six students, so it is a little flexible.
* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December
* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024
* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December
* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024
If you can help, thank you. If you cannot, we totally understand. Simply being a customer of Lost Art Press helps support and sustain our work.
In the coming weeks I’ll write more about the building and our plans for the future of Lost Art Press – beyond this current generation. I can tell you one thing right now: We would sooner give it away than sell it to a venture capital firm.
So if you have children, start feeding them a steady diet of Roy Underhill and Charles Hayward. We might need them here in Covington.
— Christopher Schwarz
The top floor of the Anthe building. Everything is original. And everything needs love.
