I guess we will find out how much you like Campaign Furniture. I just spent $2,500 on a load of 4/4 mahogany boards that are 16” and wider to build some campaign chests. Plus another $500 on 12/4 mahogany for a run of Roorkhee chairs.
First order of business: Build a full-blown campaign secretary before March 15.
— Christopher Schwarz
Editing “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree: An Introduction to 17th-century Joinery” has been an eye-opening experience. Sure, I’ve followed Peter Follansbee’s blog for a long time, listened to him at Woodworking in America and even read John (now Jennie) Alexander’s landmark book ”Make a Chair from a Tree.”
But following the construction of a joint stool from felling the tree to mixing your own paint has presented a surprise at almost every turn.
Take, for example, drawboring. I’ve been drawboring joints for years – I think I did my first one in 1999. But I’ve always added glue and clamps to the equation if possible. Not Peter and Jennie. They use robust offsets between the bores and make pins that have a long taper and are quite beefier than I typically make.
What else is interesting is that the techniques used by Peter and Jennie differ slightly at many times. Peter shaves his pegs at the bench with a chisel. Jennie uses a drawknife in a shave horse.
In the end, what is most enlightening is how much trust they put in the joint itself. After reading their experiences during the last two decades, I’m going to change my own drawboring methods.
So even if you don’t ever think you’ll build a joint stool, the book is filled with interesting techniques from two people who have devoted their lives to unearthing the techniques used for building this classic furniture form. Heck, I am even going to mix my own paint now that I know how Peter and Jennie do it.
In case you are wondering, we are closing in on getting this book to the printer. The layout is, with the exception of the index, substantially complete. Unlike previous Lost Art Press books, “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree” is going to be printed in an oversized format – the page size is 9” x 12”. The book will be full color throughout and features illustrations from Eleanor Underhill.
And much like other Lost Art Press Books, it will be hardcover, casebound, Smythe sewn and printed in the United States. We don’t have a price or an exact release date yet. But as soon as we do, we’ll announce it here.
So sharpen up that hatchet. The oak trees in your neighborhood are going to be very afraid after you read this book.
— Christopher Schwarz
The shows from the latest season of Roy Underhill’s “The Woodwright’s Shop” can now be viewed online for free through this link.
What, you are still here and reading my crap? Click the link and get over there and watch all 13 episodes. That’s more than six hours of Roy, with less than an hour of my drivel on planes and the Anarchist’s Square. Plus great episodes with Peter Follansbee, Bill Anderson, Peter Ross and Steve Latta. And five glorious minutes with Megan “Chopped Liver” Fitzpatrick.
Click here to view them.
I mean, like, so what the heck? There’s nothing to see here. Would it chase you away faster if I talked about the weather? Maybe if I posted another stupid quotation? It’s Roy for gosh durn sake. Click here.
Oh I give up.
— Christopher Schwarz
By the way, the description of the show on planing is so ridiculously wrong it makes me wee my wee panties. The real name of the show is: “The 12-step Program to Break Your Addiction to Smoothing Planes.”
“You cannot spell ‘contemporary’ without the words ‘con’ and ‘temporary.'”
— Christopher Schwarz, on the founding phrase for his next book.
I don’t collect tools, books or even Hummels (he said, throwing up a little in his mouth).
Instead, I like to collect clarity.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always gathered little scraps of paper filled with notes jotted down from the books I’ve read, the lectures I’ve attended and the friends I’ve had beers with. I am a great admirer of people who can frame their ideas in a compelling way using as few words as possible – even if I vehemently disagree with them.
I turn these phrases over and over in my mind, like a fine object. I examine the workmanship, look for flaws and study the social context in which they were made. I also like to place these them against other ideas to see if new meaning emerges.
And that is why I post these quotations on the Lost Art Press blog and pair them with images. I don’t mean to confuse or upset. And I don’t use them to indicate my own personal thought processes, mood or aura (I’m trending orange this morning, by the way).
Instead, the blog is a way to record these quotations (I sometimes lose my scraps of paper), and the response from others is always interesting.
So about that Elbert Hubbard quote on obedience. Here’s why I posted it with that image.
1. This is from Elbert Hubbard, the guy who wrote “Jesus was an Anarchist” (1910), a spiritual founder of the American Arts & Crafts movement, a book maker and a soap salesman. Was the guy a genius? A sellout? How does that quotation square with what I know about Hubbard’s philosophy? Does his “Message to Garcia” tick you off or make you nod your head in agreement?
2. Hubbard founded the Roycrofters, an organization of craftsmen who specialized in making all sorts of beautiful handmade and sometimes eccentric objects. Like many Arts & Crafts proponents, the idea was to mimic the medieval guilds.
3. Which takes us to the image, which is from “Die Hausbücher der Nürnberger Zwölfbrüderstiftungen,” naturally. It’s a collection of images of craftsmen from many trades that began in 1388. I’ll let you run the web pages through Google Translate yourself, but these books were created for an interesting reason — they were part of a retirement home for impoverished craftsmen.
So for me, this image and this quotation make me think about the meaning of obedience as it relates to craft, especially now that I am out of a job.
So there you have it. I don’t mean to be opaque, but I also don’t teach people how to cut dovetails by going over to their house and building them a dovetailed tool chest.
OK, now I’ve marked your baselines for you.
— Christopher Schwarz