Progress has been slow on my book on Campaign furniture. The research materials are scarce, the projects are expensive and complex, and Lost Art Press has plenty of books from other authors for me to work on.
But I do have some good news to report.
1. I’m going to England this fall to visit a private collection of campaign furniture and spend some time with a restorer who has spent his career examining these pieces and repairing them.
2. Londonderry Brasses is developing a section of its catalog that will feature campaign brasses. I’ve seen the selection Londonderry plans to stock and it is impressive. So impressive that I purchased a new suite of brasses for this campaign chest, including the skeletonized pulls shown here.
I’m about to dovetail the five drawers for my second campaign chest. I’ve got also got four feet to turn and 32 pieces of brass that need to be inlaid into the teak. And then I have four more campaign-era projects to build to even come close to having a book to call my own.
I also have a book’s index to edit and lay out, a cover to design and a 180-page color proof to review today.
So I better stop writing this, make some coffee and do some real work.
I don’t use this blog to flog you with commerce, but this is a link worth checking out today.
ShopWoodworking.com has put a bunch of good titles (and one birdhouse book) on sale for 50 percent off. Except for the birdhouse book, this is all good stuff – including a bunch of my DVDs.
This sale ends today, April 10.
This is a good time to pick up some titles for your permanent library:
While I am trying to keep a stiff upper lip in my basement shop by working on a British naval officer’s campaign chest, the rest of the house is in a European near-riot.
This morning the postman dropped off another proof of “To Make as Perfectly as Possible: Roubo on Marquetry,” which I’m going to start plowing into as soon as I stop typing this missive to you.
A few minutes later, the same postman stopped by to make me sign for a package from France. What’s this? He shrugs his shoulders and ambles away. I rip the package open with a knife and suddenly remember I had won this item via French eBay.
It’s a brass apron hook that looks like a workbench that is adorned with a bowsaw, holdfast, mallet and handplane. The bauble is surprisingly small – the brass part is only 1-1/2” long – and quite detailed – I can see the pegs that secure the tenons on the front leg.
Now all I need is an apron that works with these hooks. That shouldn’t be too hard to rig.
Also in the Inbox is a very interesting e-mail from Jeff Burks with an early – 1502 – depiction of a shoulder knife in use.
“As far as I know this is the oldest image depicting a shoulder knife in use, “Jeff writes. “The original was an intarsia self portrait made by Antonio Barili in 1502. I believe this was installed at the chapel of Saint John the Baptist in the Duomo of Siena.
“Antonio Barili (1453-1516) was an Italian intarsia designer, civil engineer, architect and engraver and a native of Siena. From 1483 to 1502 he worked in Siena Cathedral, providing carving and intarsia. This particular intarsia work was destroyed during World War II.
“The Latin inscription on the intarsia reads: ‘Hoc opus ego Antonius Barilis coelo non penicello D excussi an MCCCCCII.’ This translates to: ‘This work have I Antonio Barili made with the carving knife, not with a brush. In the year 1502.’ ”
One interesting description of this self-portrait comments that Barilis seems to be guiding the knife with a pencil in his right hand. Curious.
I never get tired of looking at old drawings from woodworking shops. They confirm some of things I know about woodworking, challenge some of my ideas and make me want – really, really want – a cool joiner’s cap.
This weekend, Jeff Burks shared a bunch of images with me from the book “Angenehme Bilder-Lust, Der Lieben Jugend zur Ergötzung also eingerichtet” by Peter Conrad Monath (1683-1747) of Nürnberg.
Jeff’s stab at the translation for the book is: “Pleasant Diversions with Pictures: Thus Fondly Arranged for the Amusement of the Young.”
Monath was a Nürnberg printer who was famed for his children’s books and adolescents’ literature. Among the plates in this book is “Das Schreiner Handwerck,” or the “Carpenter’s Craft.”
Things that are interesting to note about this Germanic plate (aside from the fact that there must have been a sale on those hats):
1. A shoulder knife in use. The user is working on one of these “slab workbenches” I discussed last week. He has a cool hat, but it is not as awesome as the hat on the guy ripping at the same bench, which leads us to:
2. Clamps in use on the bench. The more old images you see, the more you’ll find this simple wooden clamp, which is described in A.J. Roubo’s “L’Art du Menuisier.”
3. Sometimes mortising looks like you are singing an aria.
4. A nice Germanic bench with a shoulder vise and no stretchers in the undercarriage. Could be the fault of the illustrator. But who knows?
5. More sawbenches with curved legs. Gotta make some.
6. Vanilla Ice is a member of the undead. Check out the cap on the guy sawing on the sawbenches. He is either with the crips or the bloods. I forget which is which.
7. The casework on its back. It’s good to see this – this is how I work on casework.
One last detail: I really like how the two shoulder knives are crossed in the little illustration below in amongst the text.
Question: What made you decide that you liked the Dutch tool chest design in favor of the one in “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest?”
Answer: I don’t prefer the Dutch chest.
This Q&A was repeated at least 20 times on Friday and Saturday during the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event in Cincinnati, Ohio. I had brought the Dutch chest so people could examine it and get a feel for how it works. I’d also brought an English-style chest, which was filled with Lost Art Press books.
So here is a list of the advantages and disadvantages of each style of chest.
Portability: The Dutchman Wins
With an overall size of 27” wide x 13” deep x 26” high, the Dutch chest fits on the backseat of almost any vehicle and can be strapped in with a seat belt. I can easily lift and carry the chest myself. The full-size English chest is 40” wide x 24” deep x 26” high. It takes two people to move it, and you have to have a truck, utility vehicle or station wagon to transport it.
My smaller traveling English tool chest can be handled (barely) by one person and fits in many cars. But it is still not as easy to move as the Dutch.
Ease of Construction: Point, Dutchman
The Dutch chest takes me about 16 hours of shop time to build (including the paint). It has only two dovetailed corners. The rest of the joinery is dados, tongue-and-groove, glue and screws. It can be built with dimensional pine and requires only one panel glue-up (for the lid).
The English chest takes me about three times as long to build because there is so much more wood and everything is dovetailed and nailed. It’s a major project that requires a lot of wood and considerable time to complete.
Durability: One for the English
Though I haven’t tested either chest into the ground, past experience tells me that dovetails will last longer than screws. The English chest really is designed to last forever. The bottom bits are designed to be replaced when they rot out. The orientation of the joints on the skirts are designed to hold the chest together even if the glue fails.
The Dutch chest is solid enough, but it’s not designed to take the same level of punishment as the English chest. If the bottom rots out, I’ve got to rebuild the chest. If the screws rust and the glue fails, lots of things are going to come loose.
Looks: I Like the English
The Dutch chest isn’t ugly – several people at the Lie-Nielsen show said they preferred the looks of the Dutch chest. But to my eye, the English chest is beautiful. I like the shadow lines created by the skirts and raised-panel lid. I’ve experimented with adding more visual interest to the Dutch chest with some success, but it still looks like a grain bin to me.
Utility: Tie
While the English chest holds more, the Dutch chest holds enough and makes it easier to move your stuff around. Getting to all the tools in the Dutch chest is easy if you put the chest on a sawbench. You don’t have to prop up the English chest, and its lid is another working surface in the shop.
And so this morning I brought my Dutch chest into the shop and removed every tool. I wiped them down with a woobie and put them back into place in the English chest. I know some of you out there are going to say this is an onerous task task, but it’s not. Whenever I travel, I have to clean all the tools and put them back in order. (I allow all my students to use my personal tools, and so they get a lot of use.)
So the bottom line is that I’m glad I have the Dutch chest because I am on the road teaching for about 13 weeks out of the year. And the Dutch chest makes travel easy. But when I come home, I’m always happy to see my English chest with its open lid, waiting to get back to work.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Megan Fitzpatrick, the editor of Popular Woodworking Magazine, says my story on Dutch tool chests should be in the October 2013 issue of the magazine. There are no promises in the magazine world, but that’s the word today.
