Our revised edition of Joseph Moxon’s “The Art of Joinery” is only a couple weeks away from going on press and will be released in November – just in time for the holidays.
“The Art of Joinery” was the first publication of Lost Art Press in 2008. That book has been out of print for several years now, and used copies are fetching obscene prices on eBay and Amazon. We originally sold the book for $17; we’ve seen it sell for $300.
The fully revised second edition will sell for about $21 (a significant savings over $300) and will be twice as thick. What’s in it?
1. The text from the first edition – a lightly edited adaptation of the original 17th-century text that made the odd grammar, spellings and sentence structure easier to digest.
2. Commentary. I’ve written about each section of the book, trying to amplify Moxon’s writings with photos and additional drawings from other sources (such as Randle Holme’s “Academy of Armory”) to put Moxon’s work in context and make it understandable to a woodworker. The revised edition will reflect a lot of things I’ve learned since 2008.
3. All the illustrations have been paired with their text explanations – no flipping back and forth between text and drawings.
4. The unedited and unchanged text, exactly as Moxon wrote it. We reset it in an historically appropriate font so you can get the real-deal old-school stuff.
5. A selection of plates from Andre Felebien’s earlier work, which Moxon might have copied for his work (you decide).
6. A complete index by Suzanne “Saucy Indexer” Ellison, who made the excellent index for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.”
The book is ahead of schedule at this point thanks to designer Linda Watts. I was planning on designing the book myself (which is what I do with my own work), but I realized that I had been ready to design the book for almost two months and had not done squat. So I called in Linda, who designed the entire book in about 10 days. Yay Linda!
So tonight I’m proofing Linda’s layout and we will have this to the printer in less than two weeks. We’ll have complete details and a pre-publication free-shipping offer in mid-October.
4. OK, because I like you (most of you, anyway), I’m going to give you the dirt on where to eat in this town. Though Cincinnati seems like a sleepy mid-sized Midwestern city, it is actually a hotbed of fantastic food and drink. I’ve lived here since 1996 and have spent as much time investigating food as woodworking.
So if you want to eat yourself sick, here is my shortlist.
1. Eli’s BBQ. Crap. I let the pig out of the bag. I’ve spent most of my life in the South and so barbecue is more important than a blond-hair blue-eyed Jesus. Eli’s is the real deal. When you go, simply order the pulled pork sandwich with slaw. And get the jalapeno cheese grits. Bring your own beer (it’s OK). And when you are there, pull out one of the vinyl LPs and put it on. It’s all good.
2. Tacocracy. You need a car to get to this taco joint in Northside (one of the neighborhoods north of downtown), but holy mackerel is it worth the trip. The photo above says it all. It’s a taco filled with mac-and-cheese and braised beef.
3. Rookwood. This gem of a restaurant is high above the city in Mt. Adams. It is in the building used by Rookwood Pottery during the Arts & Crafts heyday. The food will kill you – chicken-fried bacon with chipotle honey – and you will die happy. Get the Grippos fries. Eat in a kiln. And ask for Rom – one of the mixologists who is also a hard-core woodworker.
4. Sotto. I so hate to give this to you. This is my favorite place in the world. Buried beneath the streets of downtown, this restaurant is where I have had the best three meals of my life (and I’ve eaten there only three times). Go. Eat what they recommend. Thank me later.
5. A Tavola. I’ve written about this place before. It’s the best pizza in the Tri-state. The owner, Jared Wayne, made all the furniture himself. Everything is as it should be.
And sign up for Woodworking in America, Oct. 18-20. There are 100 more wonderful places to eat in this town. We love our food.
I thought I was through with teak after finishing up my latest campaign chest, but the woodpile had other ideas. After sorting through my stack of woods appropriate for campaign furniture, it was clear that a mondo piece of 26”-wide teak would be the perfect desktop for a William IV officer’s field desk.
It’s a cool desk – it folds flat thanks to its hinged aprons. And it’s simple to build – I should have it complete by this weekend. After months of dovetailing, a project with only four joints has its appeal.
When I’m not plowing through that teak, I’m sorting through the research materials I brought back from my trip to England. It is a weighty pile – so much that Delta Airlines almost charged me for overweight luggage.
In addition to tons of images and data, I brought back some fantastic 19th-century accounts by British officers of their adventures in India.
Here’s a taste of one from 1880:
More mosquitos. What a prize for the musquitoes was I a fine, fresh, ruddy griffin, full of wholesome blood, the result of sea-breezes and healthy chylification ! and, in good sooth, they did fall foul of me with the appetite of gluttons. Sleep ! bless your dear, simple heart, the thing was about as possible as for St. Lawrence to have reposed on his gridiron.
During the last 15 years, I’ve met a lot of woodworkers who like workbenches, but I’ve met very few who delight in poring over paintings of old benches while in a noisy pub surrounded by rowdy friends and colleagues.
Yesterday evening as Richard and I were in a pub trying to decode a wack-a-doodle 1505 Nuremburg bench that was half Roman, half high-tech and half fantasy, a light kept flashing in our eyes. Finally, we looked up and saw a guy taking photos of us, shaking his head and saying something unprintable about a whale’s sex organ.
Richard grunted and went back to the computer screen.
It is not easy being a workbench nerd. And when you get two of them in a pub, the excitement can be somnambulistic.
For the last couple years I’ve admired the work that Maguire and his partner, Helen Fisher, have been putting out through their company, Maguire Workbenches. David Charlesworth and other English friends have told me how wonderful the benches are. But I’d never seen one in the ash until Friday.
They are seriously nice. Incredibly well-made. And overbuilt to perfection. (Example: In his custom designs that use slab tops, Richard doesn’t trust glue completely. So he adds a loose tenon to the edge joint that is drawbored into the mating edge. That is serious, fantastic overkill.)
Richard and Helen use ash for the most part in the benches and add traditional workholding, such as leg vises, wagon vises, twin-screws and the traditional English wood-jawed face vise. The surfaces are of a furniture quality with a nice smooth finish – all touches that bench customers appreciate.
The vises were designed by Helen and (until recently) entire made by her in their workshop.
What is interesting about Richard and Helen is that though they work to a very high level using some machines and mostly hand tools, they are interested in researching and building (for sale) common furniture forms that were built entirely by hand.
Stuff, Richard says, that “would be built by a farmer for his family.”
And so, as their workbench business has grown and matured in the last couple years to the point where they are building about 50 workbenches a year, Richard says they want to return to building more furniture using hand tools exclusively. And, he says, he thinks they can make a living at it.
“I’m interested in proper handmade stuff that is made quickly and in a wholesome manner,” he says. “I feel I can build a table as fast as a machine woodworker and for the same price. It won’t be the same table. And it will be done by working with the wood in the way it wants to be worked.”
If you don’t think that’s possible, then you probably haven’t met Richard and Helen at one of their few public appearances.
Richard left school at age 14, barely able to read and write, and took up apprenticing under his father in joinery, carpentry and furniture-making. Richard worked with his father for five years before setting out on his own.
“I hated every minute of it,” Richard says of the apprenticeship. “But he taught me everything I know. As I finished, I set up on my own making furniture. Once I started doing it my way I realized it had got into my blood.”
Helen, on the other hand, studied interior design, received her degree and began working at an architectural firm until the recession hit and she was laid off.
Neither had a business background, but they began their workbench building business in earnest together, working from their old shepherd’s cottage in rural Lincolnshire.
The business has grown steadily, and recently the two started a blog that shares many of the things they have learned about the craft and workbenches. They have started filming videos (many of them excellent), which Helen posts on the web site she designed for their company.
After talking to them amongst the benches they brought to the European Woodworking Show at the Cressing Temple Barns in Essex, England, it’s clear they are proud of the benches they make, though Richard is constantly trying to talk customers out of buying one of their benches and instead building one of their own.
And you can’t help but think that this remarkable pair is on the verge of something very interesting. They have the benches – beautiful, nearly perfect benches – to sell to customers. But it’s clear they are only at the beginning of the journey.
And as the pub closed down at 11 p.m. (as per usual) and the bartenders chased everyone out, Richard and Helen were still animatedly talking about their most recent adventure that just might become part of their future: old line-shaft equipment.
In any case, please be sure to subscribe to their blog. Whatever happens next is sure to be something to see.
If you like campaign furniture but you don’t follow my blog at Popular Woodworking Magazine, you should click over there and check out the post about my visit to Christopher Clarke Antiques in Stow-on-Wold, England.
Lots of photos of beautiful pieces. And some words.
