Category: Chairmaker’s Notebook

The following is excerpted from Peter Galbert’s “The Chairmaker’s Notebook.” Whether you are an aspiring professional chairmaker, an experienced green woodworker or a home woodworker curious about the craft, “Chairmaker’s Notebook” is an in-depth guide to building your first Windsor chair or an even-better 30th one. Using more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations, Galbert walks you through the entire process, from selecting wood at the log yard, to the chairs’ robust joinery, to applying a hand-burnished finish.

Turning is a form of carving, and as such, there are many similarities to the tools you might use in standard carving, although the sharpening geometry is different. Whenever my turning skills seem to let me down, I often look to the shape and condition of my tools. The correlation between well-tuned tools and turning success cannot be overstated. I usually see this when I hand a well-tuned tool to a student who has been struggling with a poorly tuned one. The improvement is usually immediate.
This chapter covers the tools that I find most helpful in turning and the way I maintain and use them.

Tool Condition
New turners often underestimate the dulling effect that cutting will have on the tools. Turning tools show a distinct change in their usefulness as they dull. The dull tool will resist taking a light cut. The extra pressure required will tend to increase vibration while limiting the range and fluidity of motion. This is a recipe for a bad experience.

Most modern turning tools are made from high-speed steel. High-speed steel retains an edge longer and is less prone to losing its hardness during grinding. The downside is that high-speed steel is more difficult to get as sharp as regular high-carbon steel. But for me, the extra edge life is worth it. High-speed steel encourages grinding because it isn’t damaged by overheating until it reaches red-hot. If it does get red-hot, take that as a sign that you are being too aggressive. Let the tool cool (don’t quench it in water because this stresses high-speed steel) and, as remedies, lighten your grinding pressure and perhaps dress the wheel.

Many production turners conclude their sharpening process at the grinder. They use a light touch and frequent grinding to keep a sharp edge. I like the idea of this because it encourages grinding and sharpening in general. It stresses getting back to work instead of fussing with honing. But I hone most of my tools after grinding to get the edge as smooth as I can to leave a scratch-free surface on the work.

The dulling effect can be difficult to imagine; after all, sometimes you use the tool for only a minute or two. That’s hardly a problem with a plane or a chisel. But would you ever consider carving hundreds of linear feet with a carving gouge between sharpenings? Many turners ignore the length of their cuts and do just that. Imagine a 2″-diameter round spinning at 800 rpm; after 30 seconds of cutting, more than 210 linear feet have passed against the edge! Of course, by using different parts of the cutting edge, the tool can go longer between sharpenings. But for the new turner, focusing on getting one part of the tool to cut is usually tough enough. So tool maintenance becomes even more imperative.

Oftentimes a slight burr or a damaged edge on a tool won’t just leave a dull spot, it will send the tool skittering down the work or chew it up. This is especially evident when using the skew. When entering a V-notch or any cut where the skew starts cutting immediately upon contact, the slightest deformity on the edge will prevent the tool from taking a bite.

Also, when the skew gets dull, taking a cut when the tool is presented straight on to the work becomes more difficult, so the turner usually shifts the handle far to the side to get more of a slicing cut. This makes it tougher to resist the force of the turning piece. Because the support for the tool is too far to the side, the skew is easily dragged down the work, resulting in a catch.

One essential tool that is most often neglected is the tool rest. A pitted or dinged-up tool rest will make smooth turning nearly impossible, and most new turners assume the problem is with their technique. A well-polished, smooth and waxed tool rest is essential to good turning. I take a smooth file to my tool rest and hold it perpendicularly as I draw it along, taking a fluid cut. After the surface is level and free of defects, I polish it with stones or fine sandpaper. Then I wax and buff it. The tool should glide easily. Any tools that have sharp corners, such as parting tools and skews with rectangular cross sections, should be eased with a buffer or sandpaper.

Turning Tools
As with most woodworking, it is easy to confuse having more tools with having more ability. More important than having lots of tools is knowing when and how to use them. Talking about tool choice and shape can be contentious in turning circles, much like discussing politics at a holiday dinner, but here is my take.

My basic turning kit contains a 3∕4″ roughing gouge, which does most of the heavy shaping; a 1∕8″ diamond parting tool for sizing diameters; a 3∕4″ oval skew for finishing all of the surfaces except the coves; and a 3∕8″ detail gouge for getting into coves and roughing out beads. The size of these tools can vary with personal preference and the scale of turnings that you are making. Getting the most out of each one and limiting the number of times that you switch tools helps to achieve consistent results.
With these four tools I can perform all of my turning tasks; more importantly, by limiting my collection, I keep all my tools in top condition with ease and know exactly which tool to turn to at each step.

I also use a couple of other tools that make my life easier (I’ll mention those as we go), but to make these chairs, the four core tools more than suffice.

The techniques you use at the lathe will dictate the shape of your tools’ edges. Every turner has favorite shapes; I am no exception. I’ll share my angles and shapes below, but keep in mind that the key to turning tools is the degree of sharpness and maintaining flat bevels. Any rounding over of the bevel will encourage you to over-rotate the tool to engage the cutter, which makes the tool difficult to control. To aid with the flat bevels, I use hollow grinds on all of my turning tools. The only exception is on the inside of the gouges, where a slight rounding can be tolerated.

For all of my sharpening, I like to keep the process fast and simple to encourage me to do it. Ensuring that sharpening is fast and easy is vital to actually stepping away from the lathe to do it.
Further information on the techniques in using these tools is in the Turning Practice chapter and information on the lathe and its accessories can be found in The Chairmaker’s Workshop chapter.

The roughing gouge
I use a 2″ gouge for turning blanks to round and a 3∕4″ gouge for roughing out my shapes. The larger gouge isn’t necessary, but it does make roughing more comfortable.

Before I reshape a new gouge, I polish the inside to remove any milling marks. I use a diamond cone-shaped hone, sandpaper on a dowel and diamond paste on a dowel to polish the flute. I grind a 35° bevel (or so) on my gouge. Just as important as the angle and condition of the edge is that the profile is straight. This keeps the cuts fluid and predictable. If the edge is crowned, rotating the tool during cutting will advance or retract the cutting edge, which adds another variable.

While grinding the gouge is possible to do freehand and with a simple tool rest, I use a jig to get consistent results. The set-up time with the jig is quick and doesn’t deter me from grinding.

Once the bevel is ground, I use small diamond-impregnated paddles to hone the bevel, then I remove the burr with the diamond hone. Sometimes I turn the burr from the inside of the flute with a leather strop.

This isn’t a finishing tool, so I don’t go too far with the honing. I always like to keep the flat at the edge small to prevent rounding during honing. I hone only three or four times before going back to grinding.

The diamond parting tool
I like a diamond-profile 1∕8″-wide parting tool. The tool is widest at its cutting edge, which reduces binding, and the tool’s small kerf reduces vibration. I don’t hone this tool because I use it only for sizing diameters, and I grind it too often for honing to be practical. To grind it, I don’t even set up a tool rest. I shoot for about a 50° inclusive angle. First, I set the tool on the top edge of the tool rest and lower it until I make contact with the heel of the bevel, then I lower the tool on the wheel until it makes full contact. I repeat this for both sides, taking care to keep the edge at the widest part of the tool’s spine and straight across. When I have turned a burr, I stop grinding and tap the edge into a softwood block to knock the burr off and get back to turning.

The oval skew
I prefer an oval skew, which seems to move more fluidly and doesn’t ding up my lathe’s tool rest. It’s a personal choice. I sharpen it at 30° inclusive (15° on each side) using a standard tool rest on my grinder. I don’t have any trouble grinding it this way, even though the shaft of the tool is an oval. I simply focus on keeping the edge horizontal; once it is hollow-ground, it registers on the wheel. I also shape the edge to a subtle curve. I like the exceptionally light cut that this curve allows, plus the toe and heel of the edge are somewhat pulled back, making catches less likely. I achieve this curve by pivoting on the tool rest while grinding.

It’s important to keep the two bevels ground equally. Once I’m satisfied with the grind, I hone the tool by pulling it on my stones just as I would a chisel. If the edge is curved or you are using an oval skew, you will roll the tool slightly to make sure that the entire edge is honed. Don’t confuse this with lifting the tool so that the back edge of the hollow grind loses contact. This is the worst result and will round the cutting edge over, dubbing it like a drawknife. Having a flat facet behind the cutting edge is essential to good skew technique. I never strop this tool, and I hone it on my finest stone in between turning each chair leg to keep it at peak sharpness.

When the facet behind the cutting edge gets wider than 1∕16″, I hollow grind again.

The detail gouge
I first polish the inside flute of the detail gouge (as I mentioned above) before regrinding it to a fingernail profile with a commercial jig. The jig comes with instructions for grinding the correct shape. For a long time, I avoided investing in a jig to make this grind, but after using one, I realized that my results doing it by simply rolling the tool on the tool rest while swinging the handle side-to-side did not give as consistent a result. I usually resist sharpening jigs, but I’ve found the consistent results worth it in this case.

The shape of the curve at the end of the flute should be even. I grind the detail gouge at 35° and finish the honing the same as with the roughing gouge. I keep this tool in top shape to reduce chatter and the chance of catches. Like the skew, this tool performs best when most of the bevel is made up of the hollow grind, so I grind again after only a few honing sessions.

To those new to turning, there are many details to consider, such as the speed of rotation, the size of the workpiece, the heft of the lathe and the details to be turned. Tool condition is one variable that you can always control. To achieve this, you must become proficient at the grinder. In the last 15 years, I’ve had the same iron in one of my favorite spokeshaves, but I’ve replaced most of my turning tools at least once. While they aren’t cheap enough to think of as disposable, I never confuse their cost with the value of a pleasant turning experience.

In addition to the turning instruction in “Chairmaker’s Notebook,” Galbert offers instruction through the video “Spindle Turning for Furniture.”

The following is excerpted from “Chairmaker’s Notebook,” by Peter Galbert. Whether you are an aspiring professional chairmaker, an experienced green woodworker or a home woodworker curious about the craft, “Chairmaker’s Notebook” is an in-depth guide to building your first Windsor chair or an even-better 30th one. Using more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations, Peter Galbert walks you through the entire process, from selecting wood at the log yard, to the chairs’ robust joinery, to applying a hand-burnished finish.

Wood finishing is an art completely separate from the craft of woodworking.

Sadly, this does not mean that all of us woodworkers who rush through the process as amateur finishers are off the hook. The problem is that we still need to learn the craft of finishing if we are going to practice it.

Too often, flushed with the desire to see our labors complete, we hurry through the process. But the finish is the first thing viewers see. And whether we like it or not, it can elevate our work – or cruelly diminish it.

One solution is to work only with attractive woods and to use clear finishes. This imposes a design limit because certain chair forms get too visually chaotic when the wood grain is visible. The chairs that I make with clear finishes have more subtle shapes to keep from muddying or competing with the images on the surface of the wood. The finish process for these chairs is less daunting. But for the traditional chairs, which are made with woods chosen for their varying strengths rather than their beauty, a unifying finish is, in my opinion, essential.

The most common concern with painting a chair is that you will diminish its beauty by cloaking the natural surface. But in looking through history, this wasn’t always the attitude; each era has a different and complex relationship with wood as a material and paint as a finish.

In the times of the original Windsors, paint and bright colors were a luxury and sign of wealth. Just as the restoration of the Sistine Chapel exposed the rich, saturated colors of the original fresco, which shocked and even offended some modern onlookers, we are accustomed to the mellowed and patinated chairs of old. So our solution is to stain or paint our chairs muted colors to match our impressions of these venerated pieces. But an exploration of the real paints of old, with verdigris, lead and linseed oil, reveals a green so intense that it would make dayglo appear a subtle hue.

As paint technology advanced and cheapened, coloring furniture with paint became a means to give the masses their shot at glamor, and it was often used to hide cheap wood and inferior construction. Once paint became associated with cheap furniture, then unpainted pieces, using exotic or aesthetically pleasing woods, became the sign of wealth. Flash-forward another century and we have the reaction of the late 20th century against the influx of plastics into our world. In contrast to the uniform, artificial surface of plastic goods, all things natural and earthy were seen as beautiful. Any attempt to cover them was an affront to the material. This elevation of the wood as a material led to lots of garish wood grain becoming the central feature of the furniture, as opposed to a contributing component of the overall design.

Of course, we are all of our time, and each of us has a personal preference and bias. Initially, it was a stretch for me to paint my first chair, but after I witnessed the transformation and enhancement, I was committed to mastering the process.

Paint has come a long way from the toxic lead paints of the original Windsors to the stringy enamels of the 20th century. I paint my chairs with milk paint, and while it was not the traditional finish for Windsors, it does a great job of coloring the wood without obscuring the texture. One problem with milk paint is that its manufacturers tend to describe mixing and using it in a way that creates a crude “country” finish. I don’t want this for my chairs, so I mix the paint thinner than recommended and follow a multi-coat process to get the refined look I want.

When done properly, the grain and texture of the wood are clearly visible, and the desirable tool marks and edges are sharp and crisp. Not only is the warmth and depth of the wood present, but it is deepened. Over time, normal use will wear the paint, exposing the edges of the chair and highlighting the shaping. The overall effect is far more striking than one dominated solely by the surfaces and colors of the wood.

Before launching into surface and paint preparation, I feel compelled to talk about samples. Committing to making sample boards might just be the toughest lesson in all of woodworking. But until you have a sample – and I mean a completed sample – that you are pleased with, it is more than likely that you will be disappointed in the results on the actual piece.

When working with a new finish, I make samples on the various woods and surface preparations of my piece. I observe all the normal drying times, steps and layers. Lots of notes will help you remember the steps and measurements. Once I love the results, it’s time to work on the actual piece.

Surface Preparation
Surface preparation is vital to getting good results. Any surface that was shaved with a sharp blade, such as a drawknife or spokeshave, is ready for finishing without any further preparation – save making sure that it is free from dirt or grime. This is because the cutting action shears the fibers cleanly without compressing the grain. Even parts that have been put through the steamer will show no raised grain where they were shaved with a sharp tool.

Areas that have been scraped and sanded will have some degree of grain compression that will show up as raised rough fibers on the surface once they contact either water, water-based stain or water-based milk paint. For these areas, I sand to #220-grit, then wet them to raise the grain. This is often easier to do before assembling the chair.

It’s important to let the surface dry and harden; letting it sit overnight is best. Then I lightly sand with #220- grit paper, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Instead, I let the sandpaper cut the fibers with multiple light passes. These areas will most likely show raised grain again, but I sand them after the first coat of paint has soaked into them and hardened the fibers. One sanding after the first coat of paint is usually enough, but I inspect those areas carefully to ensure that I am happy with the surface after paint is reapplied.

My turnings in the undercarriage are finished with a skew, but because any burnishing that takes place may resist the paint sticking, I sand lightly with #320-grit while the piece is on the lathe. Be sure to remove the tool rest and any loose clothing before sanding. I also wear a respirator because the fine dust is dangerous. There should be no surface preparation required after that.

The seat is perhaps the most critical place for surface preparation. Pine tends to compress when scraped, and it might also contain considerable sap or pitch. It is difficult for paint to adhere to sap, so I heat the surface of the seat with a heat gun until I can see the pores with sap in them liquify. Then I rinse the seat with naptha or grain alcohol. Always wear gloves when handling solvents. I repeat this if the seat seems quite pitchy. Some manufacturers suggest sealing the seat with a coat of shellac or using an acrylic additive to the milk paint to encourage solid adhesion. I have done both, but have found that the brand of milk paint that I use, from the Real Milk Paint Company, doesn’t require help sticking to the surface. If I do use an additive, I only use it on the first coat on the seat and nowhere else on the chair.

If your chair has been sitting around for a while unpainted, oxidation and dust will have contaminated the surface and you might consider wiping the whole chair with solvent such as grain alcohol or naptha before painting.

Stain
Once the initial surface preparation is complete, I can either go straight to painting, or to staining. Staining is a good way of mellowing the raw wood so that when the paint wears away, you won’t see the bright white of raw wood. The stain will also help you to see any areas of roughness you might have missed.

I stain my chairs with a simple stain made from crushed walnut hulls soaked in hot water. Wear gloves when making or handling this stain or you will have orange fingers for a week or so. There is a commercially available stain called Van Dyke Crystals that is basically the same thing.
An alternative is to combine a shellac sealer with stain by simply adding a little alcohol-based dye to the shellac.

Either way, I mix and strain the stain and rub it on with a soft cloth. I never paint or stain the bottoms of my chairs, preferring to just oil them and let the natural pumpkin patina of the white pine show.
As the stain dries, I mix my first coat of milk paint. Each color of milk paint mixes and applies differently. So again, make a sample to be sure that you like the mix. Just because you successfully used proportions and steps to get a good green finish doesn’t ensure that your yellow one will work.

Milk Paint
Milk paint is basically a mixture of lime, pigment and milk protein. I think of it as a very thin layer of colored plaster, rather than a paint. It wears beautifully and it is colorfast. Plus, the textures, tool marks and grain of the wood show through the thin, hard layer of paint. One very popular and successful way to use milk paint is to layer different colors, which creates beautiful wear patterns as the chair is used. I’ll describe painting my most popular finishes: black over red and peacock over stained goldenrod. If you wish to paint a solid-color chair, with no undercoat, just follow the instructions for the red undercoat, perhaps adding one more coat before rubbing it down. The concept of creating these layers is simple. A base coat of solid, thin paint is applied first. The key to this layer is that it not be “caked up” or too thick so that it masks the grain of the wood. Milk paint tends to go on a bit thick and uneven, so extra steps are needed to get the best finish. I usually take two coats to apply the base coat, rubbing the first layer with a Scotch-Brite pad and sanding areas with raised fibers. Then I paint the thin areas or areas that have been exposed through sanding or rubbing with a slightly thinner pot of the same color. Again, the goal is an even thin coat of a solid color. Then I either seal the base coat with a thin layer of shellac, or I go directly to the top coat. I follow the same process of painting on and rubbing down the top-coat color until I am happy with the results. Then I seal the paint with oil. You will find that sharp edges and facets tend to “burn through” to the undercoat, which can be avoided or exaggerated, depending on your taste.

The following is excerpted from Peter Galbert’s “Chairmaker’s Notebook.”

Whether you are an aspiring professional chairmaker, an experienced green woodworker or a home woodworker curious about the craft, “Chairmaker’s Notebook” is an in-depth guide to building your first Windsor chair or an even-better 30th one. Using more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations, Peter Galbert walks you through the entire process, from selecting wood at the log yard, to the chairs’ robust joinery, to applying a hand-burnished finish.

And if you’ve never thought about building a chair, this book might convince you to try. Building a chair will open your eyes to ways of working wood that you might miss if you stay in the rectilinear world of boxes.

When you look at a pile of muddy logs it might be tough to know what is what. Beyond the species, there are a number of characteristics to look for in a log. These traits are usually a reflection of the life of the tree before it was cut. The best trees grow in the middle of a forest where they compete for light by shooting straight up to the canopy without expending energy by growing low branches. The protection of the surrounding trees also keeps the wind at bay. Trees that grow at the edge of the woods or in fields have no incentive to grow this way and tend to branch low and twist about – not to mention the likelihood of finding metal embedded from an old hammock bolt.

For the best return on your labor, only the straightest, clearest wood should come into the shop. I am quick to relegate inferior wood to the burn pile. Struggling with sub-par wood will quickly color your experience. The only wood in the tree suitable for chair parts is in the straight, limbless portion of the trunk, generally, the first 10′-14′. In some cases, a second cut above it may be suitable, but it might also harbor a few more surprises.

As a young tree struggles to reach the canopy, it will have some waviness to it. I call this the “reckless youth” stage, and just like with people, it’s usually best to avoid it or forget it. Once the tree reaches the canopy, it begins to add on layers that build mass and smooth the early growth into a more even shape on the outside of the tree. When you split the tree, you’ll see the transition from gnarly to smooth and note where the serviceable wood starts. Depending on how old the tree is when it’s cut and the growing conditions that it experienced, it can get to the point where no blemishes are visible from the outside. I like to choose logs with a diameter at the top of 16″-24″, rather than more massive trees. I have found that a violent “reckless youth” or other issues can be concealed beneath the larger mass. (Plus, larger logs are more difficult to split and transport.) Some species are more “honest” about their early years, such as red oak, whereas I’ve found white oak to be downright deceptive. Luckily, the medium-diameter trees that I prefer usually don’t have the time to cover major flaws completely. Also, by choosing high-quality, smaller logs, I don’t run into the troubles of long-term storage.

Besides obvious curves in the log, there are other details to look for. “Reaction wood” forms when the tree grows under stress, such as on a hillside. When you split this wood and release the tension, a lifetime of stress will express itself in warping and perhaps cracking. An off-center pith and uneven growth rings are signs of reaction wood and should be avoided.
I also avoid logs that have a considerable taper along their length. Of course, the top of any log will usually be smaller than the base, but a large flare makes the log tough to work because the layers get thicker at one end. This means that you can’t follow the fibers and thickness the piece to a consistent measurement.

If the flare is just at the bottom and the rest of the log is more uniform, I simply cut off the bottom few feet and send it to the burn pile, rather than trying to split it.

One of the more insidious defects in a tree is a twist, and I say this because it isn’t always apparent. While a knot or defect in a log can be cut out or worked around, twist will run the length of a log, and you’ll fight it with each and every piece. To spot a twist in a log usually requires “sighting” down the length of one end, as though the log were a rifle barrel. It usually isn’t any one line in the bark, but a general appearance of the pattern creeping around the tree.

A slight twist is expected, but note it as a possible deal-breaker. Learning to work twisted parts into usable chair parts is tricky. So given a choice, stay away from logs with a distinct twist.
A crack down the center of a log is normal, and it can sometimes help you spot a twist. If the crack is vertical on one end of the log and horizontal on the other, be wary and inspect the bark further. When the bark is removed, you will see the twist in the fibers when sighting from the end.

Hopefully, the folks you are working with will allow you to roll the log before committing to purchasing it. Often, you will spot problems that you can’t see from just one side or when the log is stacked.

The following is excerpted from “Chairmaker’s Notebook,” by Peter Galbert, from the section on tools for seat carving.

Whether you are an aspiring professional chairmaker, an experienced green woodworker or a home woodworker curious about the craft, “Chairmaker’s Notebook” is an in-depth guide to building your first Windsor chair or an even-better 30th one. Using more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations, Peter Galbert walks you through the entire process, from selecting wood at the log yard, to the chairs’ robust joinery, to applying a hand-burnished finish.

And if you’ve never thought about building a chair, this book might convince you to try. Building a chair will open your eyes to ways of working wood that you might miss if you stay in the rectilinear world of boxes.

The adze is like a gouge, but rather than striking the end of the tool with a mallet, the force is supplied by swinging it like a hammer. I use an adze to hog out much of the waste material in the seat. When correctly shaped and weighted, the adze can cut with surprising control and leave a clean surface. The trouble is that most adzes were designed for some task other than carving seats, so a little extra awareness of the tool and its geometry will help when tuning them for this use.

The adze is often soft steel that could be abraded with a hard file, but I don’t recommend it. A finely honed adze will stay sharp longer and leave a much better surface. There are two configurations for adzes: one with the bevel on the outside (out-cannel) and one on the inside (in-cannel).

The adze process is called “hewing” and requires two steps. First, you make a series of consistent-depth cuts as shown at right in a pattern of rows resembling fish scales. When striking each row, the direction of the swing is toward the previous row. This leaves the chip unsupported and allows a weak layer to form at the depth of the cut. Then you clear the broken chips to the depth of the initial blows. When the geometry of the tool and the swing is correct, the adze follows a radius that will take and clear loose chips.
This is a controllable method, and practice brings speed and certainty to the process.

By removing material in successive stages with this technique, the remaining shape and surface can be refined. Clean-up cuts that travel across the grain while skewing the adze “downhill” can leave a polished surface.

Body position is critical to using this tool effectively. I’ve seen long-handled adzes used while standing on the seat. I prefer a smaller hand adze in conjunction with the workpiece on a podium platform or clamped to the seat of my shavehorse.

The shape of the adze and its relationship to the handle is key to its function. An adze works best when the most comfortable and balanced point on the handle corresponds to the outer surface of the edge of the tool as shown above. This relationship is called the “hang.”

If your adze doesn’t do this, then you can regrind the edge to get the geometry to work better. If your adze is ground in-cannel and the hang doesn’t work well, you can either grind a bevel on the outer surface or make a new handle with a bend in it that will correct the issue.

When evaluating the geometry of an adze, I assess how easy it is to control where it cuts. An adze with the proper hang and good balance will hit where you want and where you expect. If this isn’t the case, you will have to exert excess energy to control the tool and it will become tiring to use.

I think of the adze head as moving around the circumference of a circle with my hand at the center point. If my hand is close to the work, the adze digs in for deep cuts and strikes like a hammer. If my hand is high off the work, I get a glancing blow for clearing chips. In each case, the center point shifts slightly in the direction that the tool is swinging as well.

Like any tool, the adze is going to perform best when it not only has proper geometry at the edge, but a high level of sharpness. Don’t let the brutal impression the tool gives keep you from experiencing it at its sharpest. Grinding and honing the adze is certainly different than chisels or plane blades that have lots of flat surface to reference, but a little focus and creativity can yield controlled and repeatable results.

If the handle or head shape gets in the way of buffing the inside curve, I use a drum sander in a drill or a dowel with sandpaper wrapped around it. A dowel charged with honing compound will polish it up. When choosing the angle for the bevel, consider the point on the handle where you are most comfortable gripping as well as the thickness of the edge for durability.

For consistent grinding, a means for holding the adze head in a jig can be helpful. Remember, the adze is just a gouge, so thinking of sharpening your turning or carving gouges can help when conceiving of the best way to go about it. The holding jigs shown at left might take some effort to make sure that the position and movement of the blade contacts the edge properly when the tool is rolled, but the results will most likely prove it worthwhile.

The in-cannel adze is trickier to sharpen, and the location of the grip is dictated by the shape of the adze head, not the bevel angle. Polish the outer surface of the head and dub the edge a bit. Grind the bevel with a drum sander or grinding burrs in a drill or Dremel. I like to use diamond pastes of sequential grit to get my final polish. There are no rules about the grind – whatever works, be it in-cannel or out-cannel or a combination of the two. All are worth exploring.