This is an excerpt from “Slöjd in Wood” by Jögge Sundqvist.
This cutting board is based on ones I saw in Norway. One side had a decoration painted on it and faced outward when it hung on the wall. The other side was the real cutting board and unpainted. A cutting board gets tough treatment. In frequent contact with water, it swells and shrinks again and again, so the wood changes in volume.
A cutting board with a glue joint cracks sooner or later. If you use a single board from the outer part of a straight-grown trunk, where the annual rings are of more or less of equal length, it warps to be slightly convex on the cutting side and is stable.
Cutting board with heart side down. You cut food on the heart side. This side is convex when it has dried, so the water drains off. It also sits steadier on the table than the bark side. The bark side of the board becomes the decorated side.
Material A blank from straight-grained birch or common alder. Ash, maple or beech are also good. Make sure that the blank isn’t twisted.
Cutting boards are good to make from leftovers from other projects. For example, when splitting out stool seats from a half log, you can use the remaining outer parts for cutting boards.
Hew away thick parts with an axe. Smooth both sides with a drawknife in the shaving horse, or with a scrub plane at the workbench. Make sure the blank isn’t twisted, and is evenly thick. It can be slightly cupped. Seal the end grain with glue and dry the board for a couple of weeks.
Drill holes for hanging or for a handle. Use a brace and auger bits. When the tip of the bit has come through on the backside, stop, turn the blank over and drill from the other side. This avoids tearout and splinters at the edges. If you want to make a handle with a larger hole, use a fret saw to saw out the shape. Clean inside the hole using a knife with a narrow blade.
Use your legs and body to give power to your planing. Good ergonomics make the result even better. Cross-grain wood can splinter. You must either clean-cut with a flat gouge or lift the plane to stop the cut and work from the other direction.
Plane the surface with a smoothing plane or use a sharp drawknife. It is when you flatten the surface that you realize the importance of a quality, straight-grained and knot-free blank. Even so, planing a wide board can be a difficult task. Think of all the slöjd makers throughout history. Rise to the challenge!
Saw and carve the overall shape. Clean-carve all end-grain wood using the can opener grip. Chamfer the edges carefully. On the bark side, chip carve a cool pattern and paint with a thin coat of oil paint. Now you suddenly have something spectacular to cut your vegetables on.
I have spoken to scores of people regarding the methods of making profiles with hollows and rounds that I have covered thus far. While most new users find the techniques extremely simple and thorough, some more experienced woodworkers find it too calculated. In many ways I agree with this sentiment, particularly as you improve in your skills. In this chapter I will address a few of the techniques that many other woodworkers employ.
Many users much more accomplished than myself start the hollow on the single arris of a single rabbet rather than on the dual arrises of a chamfer. Similarly, for concave curves they start a round on a chamfer rather than the arrises defining a rabbet.
With these techniques, it is recommended that the user start the profile toward the end of the board, near where a pass with the plane is generally ended, and work his way back in abbreviated steps. The first pass with the round, using your fingers as a fence (I use my fingers on both sides here), will start the profile in the last 6″ of the board. With the second pass, back the plane up another 6″ and take another pass all the way to the end of the board. Proceeding in this way will create a profile that is ramped toward the end of the piece. To correct this, once the plane is tracking properly the user should beginto take passes abbreviated in the opposite direction – feathering the plane off the profile before the end – thereby evening the profile across its length. The toe of the plane will ultimately guide the cutting edge and the heel.
Fig. 13-2. Less work? If you start a round on a chamfer there is less material to remove, but also more steering of the tool.
The advantage of working in this manner, from end to beginning, is that the plane creates its own chutes in which to fall. The firstpass may be imperfect. The second pass, using the plane’s length and the chute that was started with the previous pass, will be slightly more accurate and uniform, especially toward the end. With each subsequent pass the profile will develop further and more uniformly. Accuracy here depends upon skill with steering the hollow and round, not on a square rabbet.
The advantage of this method in using a round is that there is less stock to remove in profiles of 60° as shown in Fig. 13-2.
There is, of course, much more stock to remove with a hollow using this method as shown in Fig. 13-3. There is, I guess, also one less step.
Fig. 13-3. More wear on the tool. Using a hollow on an arris will wear the sole and iron more in the middle of the tool.
The disadvantage of this traditional method of using hollows and rounds is in its inaccuracy for beginners. It is much easier for the new moulding plane user to achieve consistency when the plane has two points upon which to ride. However, I have introduced this technique here because there are times in which it is useful, even necessary.
For example, I use this method exclusively when working with No. 2 planes. You will notice that I never illustrate knocking the corners off the square facet before creating a bead, as shown in Fig. 13-4. Working a rabbet plane into that tight area is dangerous in regard to the surrounding profiles, especially given that the adjoining surfaces are complete at that stage.
Fig. 13-4. Useful with small planes. Working right on an arris is the way to go when dealing with the very small hollows and rounds.
The rabbet necessary to guide a No. 2 round is absurdly small; the two points upon which the plane sits are so close that they are somewhat irrelevant. I create a chamfer here and use the above method as shown in Fig. 13-5.
Fig. 13-5. Another place for steering. When making very small coves, a rabbet plane is impractical.
I also use these methods at times when working with larger planes, but their use is much more sporadic. Again, the further one progresses in his skills, the more individual preferences develop. You may try this method and prefer it – there is no question that many use it quite successfully. I will not argue with success.
This is a common fault even amongst experienced men who should know better. The wood between the dovetails is torn out, leaving an unsightly gash which robs the joint of much of its strength. In nine cases out of ten it is concealed when the joint is assembled, and this is probably the reason why so many do not take the trouble to avoid it. There are cases, however, when the blemish is seen, especially when the wood tears just below the surface. When the joint is levelled it is easily possible to plane into it with the result that an unsightly gash is disclosed. The fault is easily avoided as explained below.
FIG. 2. WHY WOOD IS TORN OUT. The waste is completely removed as at A. When reversed it is unsupported and is levered over, tearing out the fibres as shown
Let us first consider the reason why the wood tears out in this way. There is first the downward chop short of the gauge line across the grain, as at (A), Fig. 2, followed by a horizontal cut which splits away the waste piece. Next is another chop right on the line and a second horizontal cut. So far no tearing out has taken place, yet it is this preliminary cut that is the cause of all the trouble. The wood is now reversed and a similar chop made, as at B. It is easy to see what happens. The shock of the blow causes the unsupported waste to bend over, and it tears out the fibres from the shoulder as shown. If the chisel happens to be blunt the defect is so much the worse. It is all due to the projecting waste piece having no support when the wood is reversed and the second cut made.
The remedy is simple. Begin by chopping down across the grain short of the gauge line as before, and then make a sloping cut to meet it as at (B); Fig. 3. Make a second cut a little nearer the gauge line followed by a second sloping cut, and finally right up to the line, as at C. Note that sloping cuts leave a short piece of uncut wood at the corner. On no account cut away the waste horizontally from the end. If now you reverse the wood and chop down, the grain will not tear out because the waste piece is supported. You can ease the work too by splitting away the waste at the end. It does not matter once the wood has been reversed.
FIG. 3. CORRECT PROCEDURE. Wedge shaped piece is removed leaving the corner Intact
It will be realised that in working in this way the removal of the wedge of wood enables the chisel to penetrate easily when the second chop is made closer to or right on the line. The idea is shown pictorially at (D), Fig. 3. In thick wood or extra hard wood it may be necessary to make several cuts, easing away a wedge of wood after each, as at (C), Fig. 3. The great point in avoiding tearing out, however, is to leave the wood untouched at the corner so that it is not forced downwards when the wood is reversed. The corner supports it, as shown in Fig. 4. Chopping in with the grain at the end after the wood has been reversed however enables the chisel to penetrate more easily.
FIG. 4 . HOW UNCUT CORNER SUPPORTS THE WASTE WHEN THE WOOD IS REVERSEDFIG. 5. WEDGE INSERTED TO SUPPORT WASTE
If for any reason you have cut away the waste right to the end in the first chopping, you can still prevent tearing out by inserting a little wedge of wood beneath the overhanging waste as in Fig. 5. This gives support and prevents it from bending over under the force of the blows and so wrenching the fibres.
A toothed planing stop is an indispensible appliance for a low workbench. Yes, it marks your work, but many times this isn’t a problem if you consider carefully the order of operations on a board (i.e. crosscut the marks away at the end). Photo by Narayan Nayar.
The first time I saw the bench in Peter Nicholson’s “Mechanic’s Companion” (1831), I thought: That’s not right – the benchtop has only a planing stop. There are no holes for holdfasts, dogs or other workholding devices. While the front of the bench features a screw-driven face vise, I thought surely the illustrator forgot to draw in some details.
These early workbenches have little in way of workholding. Where’s the tail vise? Do you need one? (Peter Nicholson’s “Mechanic’s Companion” (1831)).
Then I got a copy of André Félibien’s “Des Principes de L’Architecture” (1676-1690) and the workbenches shown there (below) are also stripped down. They feature a planing stop and some holes in the top and legs for a holdfast. As I worked my way backward through the visual record of workbenches in technical manuals and paintings, the message was clear: Early workbenches had simple workholding.
It would be easy to assume that early benches are simple because the screw vise hadn’t been invented. Yet, large scale screws show up in early Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Assyrian writings and drawings. And archaeologists have found evidence of screw-driven vises (likely for metalworking) at Augusta Raurica, a Roman site in Switzerland active from 44 B.C. to 260 C.E.
The workbench from André Félibien’s “Des Principes de L’Architecture” (1676-1690).
They knew about screws. Perhaps the screws were too much trouble to make for a woodworker’s workbench. Or they simply preferred to work without them.
So, I stopped using a tail vise and didn’t miss it one bit (I still don’t). I began to plane up panels with only a planing stop and became quite fast at processing stock. This small taste of success drove me to experiment with pegs, wedges, battens and notched sticks. Things that looked like they could never hold your work (such as a doe’s foot) worked brilliantly.
I am convinced there is a world of workholding out there that doesn’t require gizmos, but instead requires a little cleverness and some basic skills with the tools. The following account only scratches the surface of what’s out there. Every tradesperson, from the armorer to the shoemaker to the block builder, had simple ways of holding the work that don’t look like much to the modern eye. These are just a few of the devices that show up repeatedly in the historical record.
Planing Stop On early workbenches, the simple planing stop is the foundation for all the other bits of workholding for woodworking. In fact, some benches are equipped with only a planing stop. There’s a lot you can do with a planing stop and a little skill.
Most planing stops are comprised of a square piece of wood that is long enough to penetrate the benchtop and give the woodworker a lot of height for planing boards on edge – 3″ x 3″ x 12″ is a typical size.
Add a thin batten in front of your planing stop and you’ve made an effective planing stop for wide panels.
The stop is adjusted up and down with hammer blows so it needs to be a durable wood – oak is typical – and dry.
You might think that fitting the planing stop requires you to consider how wet the benchtop is and the current season. Will the stop and benchtop (or both) shrink as they dry? Or, if the stock is bone dry, will that component swell during the humid season? Most bench builders have a slab that is somewhat wet that might take years to acclimate to the shop, plus stock for a planing stock that is at equilibrium with their shop.
There are formulas and lots speculation for how tight or loose to make things. I ignore it.
When I fit a planing stop, I assume that I’m going to have to adjust it later on if it becomes too tight or make a new one if things get too loose. So, I focus on getting a good snug fit that day. I want the stop to move about 1/8″ with each heavy mallet blow.
After I get that fit, I simply pay attention to how it is working during the months ahead. If the stop becomes almost impossible to move, I remove it and plane it a tad. If it’s too loose you can glue some veneer onto the existing stop or make a new one. In time, the wood will settle down and your planing stop will do the same.
So Roubo could not very well do a comprehensive book on furniture making without including some mention of how to prepare frames for upholstery, and yet in his opening line he gives a real clue as to his general feelings about the matter. He says, “…seats in general are finished with fabric or caning…where the former is the most utilized and totally the province of the upholsterer.” It is not difficult to imagine Roubo arguing with an irate upholsterer over the details of a frame, just the way that modern upholsterers complain about the placement of tacking rails, and in the end just let the upholsterer figure out how to complete the chair. Roubo is clear on how to prepare loose or “slip” seats, those that are removable from the chair, but when he discusses how upholstery materials are permanently attached, it was just not so.
Figures 7, 8 & 9 from Plate 227
In Plate 227 Roubo provides three figures in profile of the attachment of webbing to massive carved frames, these are figures 7, 8 & 9. Upon first seeing this plate, my reaction was simply, “Impossible!” But knowing Roubo’s meticulous drawing skill and thorough work, there had to be an answer.
Figure 8 clearly shows (from left) the webbing attached to the side of the rail, tacked near the top, a next layer of under upholstery (muslin) tacked below that, and finally a show cover attached with decorative tacks right at the top of the decorative moulding. As a student of the English tradition of upholstery, this was unfamiliar to me, as the English securely tack the webbing to the top of the frame (as shown in Figure 7) and thereby have good access to stretch or “strain” it tight. So then why is Roubo showing the webbing in Figure 8 this way? I put this question to everyone I thought could help until I was fortunate to meet the gifted, classically trained and very French master upholsterer Bruno Paulin-Lopez. Interestingly, Roubo, was not required reading for his training, though he was familiar with the well-known and contemporary book on the trades by Denis Diderot, and another massive text called Tapisseire D’Ameublement by Claude Ossut (not translated into English), both of which explain in quite some detail how to web a chair frame.
First and foremost, the French tradition of webbing requires the webs to be placed tight, side by side with no gaps, unlike the English, which employs an open weave pattern, and this is critical to understanding what Roubo is portraying. And secondly, this type of un-sprung upholstery (chair, ottoman, chaise, etc.) would have a considerable, in some cases massive, pillow on top of the webbed “deck.” Finally, Roubo, seemingly aware that he is not being clear, gives us some information in a long footnote. To paraphrase, “…most upholsterers feel that the webbing should be on the side, while others are convinced that it could be on the top of the frame, which would make it very firm.”
With Bruno’s guidance, I have come to believe that the “most upholsterers” Roubo consulted were the older generation who grew up tacking everything on the side of the rails and whom Roubo did not dare slight in his representation of how this should be done. And the “others” are those talented pioneers desperately trying to make sure their upholstery methods could keep up with the fast-changing furniture styles of the opulent French court, such as the elegant gentleman craftsman portrayed by Diderot.
The following is a recreation to scale of Figure 8 and shows an interpretation of how the webbing would have been placed unfolded on the rabbeted edge, followed by a muslin layer tacked slightly above, and finally the show cover tacked right at the edge with decorative tacks. Because the webbing is side by side, there is a smooth surface for the succeeding layers, and because the piece is un-sprung it would not be necessary to stretch the webbing as tightly, and would actually give the bottom of the pillow a place to nestle.
The webbing shown here and in the next image is a modern reproduction, for illustration purposes only.
The next recreation uses the same frame pattern and shows a more “modern” approach with webbing folded under, tacked on top of the rail, followed by a layer of linen hessian tacked on a beveled edge to save the space on the front of the rail for the tacking of the show cover. This technique is similar to the English style.
The final recreation shows a full hand-sewn foundation using a coarse “first stuffing” material, which is drawn by careful stitching to form a firm seat and a rolled edge. This technique evolved in both the French and English traditions, and creates a custom, extremely durable base for a softer second stuffing and made possible the upholstery of many complex furniture designs.
I feel confident in saying that Roubo would be truly pleased to know that the techniques he illustrated as well as their many variations are still practiced by the finest upholsterers working today. — Michael Mascelli
