The bad news: At midnight on March 11, you will no longer receive a free pdf of the book when you order a copy of the printed version. Before that deadline, you can get the printed book and the pdf for $49. On March 12, the printed book and the pdf will be $61.50.
I have yet to see the printed book, but it is scheduled to arrive at our Kentucky storefront sometime tomorrow. It should be a fun scene. I’m teaching a class this week on building an American Welsh stick chair, so we have some chairmakers who are eager to see the book. (I know I am.)
When will yours arrive? Soon, I hope. Our warehouse is generally speedy when filling pre-publication orders. You should receive an email about your copy in the coming week or so. As always, if you think something is amiss with your order, don’t leave a comment on the blog. Instead, send an email to help@lostartpress.com and we’ll be happy to assist you.
You can download a free pdf excerpt of our newest book, “Good Work: The Chairmaking Life of John Brown” by Christopher Williams to get a taste for the writing and layout. You don’t have to register or give us a skin sample or anything. Just click this link:
…and the pdf will arrive in your computer’s downloads folder. The excerpt contains the Preface by Nick Gibbs, which is probably the best explanation I’ve read of who John Brown was. It also contains a section of the book on building the chair so you can get a feel for the sort of instruction that Chris provides.
It was difficult to pick the parts of the book to excerpt because it covers so much ground and contains so many interesting voices. There’s the history of Wales, philosophy from John Brown, details on the tools he used, and stories of his fascinating life.
Also a gentle reminder that if you order the book before it ships in March 2020 then you will receive a complete download of the book at checkout. After the book ships, the pdf will cost $12.25 extra.
This week we will begin selling laser-cut templates for the Staked Armchair in “The Anarchist’s Design Book: Expanded Edition,” and I have received more than a few raised eyebrows and cutting remarks about the templates.
After all, isn’t this a Welsh stick chair of the kind made famous by John Brown? The guy who said there never ever should be a plan published for a Welsh chair? And who also said that people who sell plans should go out of business?
First, this is absolutely (and you know it hurts me to write an -ly adverb) not a Welsh stick chair. As I’ve written time and again, I call this form an American Welsh stick chair because it is designed for modern American woods and with details that make it as contemporary as I can manage. The “Welsh” part of its name is a nod to its origins. If you want to build a real Welsh stick chair, go to St Fagans, soak up the fantastic vibe there and get to work. Or get a good dose of it through Chris Williams’s new book “Good Work: The Chairmaking Life of John Brown.”
But still, why am I offering plans and templates?
OK, close your eyes and imagine… Wait, that’s not going to work because you have to use your eyes to read the next sentence.
OK, let’s say it’s your first ever day in music class. You’re sitting in a chair with your foreign-feeling trombone, violin or (God save my ears) a plastic recorder. The teacher then says: OK class, I’d like you each to compose a sonata in G, and please don’t forget to return to the tonic key during the recapitulation. I’ll be back at the end of the class to grade your work.
Before you can write music, it’s helpful to be able to play music.
Music class is the opportunity to learn your instrument by playing beautiful pieces composed by others. When I taught myself to play guitar about age 11, I played “Froggy Went A-Courtin” so many damn times I thought my sisters might murder me. So then I sang “Michael Row the Boat Ashore” about 60 times to torture them anew.
After learning hundreds of folk songs, standards and country tunes, I could feel their patterns in my hands as I moved them across the fretboard. I felt how suspended chords could brighten a progression. I knew so many songs composed with G, D and D chords that I also knew how odd (and wonderful) it was to encounter an A7 in a bridge. I could also spot chords that really didn’t have a name, made by people who had never formally studied music. Those were my favorites.
After a few years of playing other people’s tunes, I began to write my own. But I still continued to play other people’s songs in an effort to get inside their heads and make myself a better musician and songwriter.
So (if you are still awake at this point) this is why I offer explicit plans for this chair. If you want to become a chairmaker, it helps to learn the processes, joinery and setups while building someone else’s design. Some people do this by taking a class. Other people can’t afford that route, so plans and templates are an effective way to learn.
It is my sincerest hope that after you build a bunch of chairs that you will see the patterns and rhythms built into my designs (and the chairs of others). The language in my chairs is as straightforward as 12-bar blues. It ain’t jazz. Then, perhaps, you will be able to build chairs of your own devising.
And then maybe someday, we’ll have a world where every chair is different.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. We are working out the pricing on the templates that were designed and made by FirstLightWorks. We’ll have full details on them and their availability in short order. So I don’t have any more information to share just yet. Apologies.
After making Welsh stick chairs for almost 17 years, I am accustomed to strong reactions to the form.
“I hate to tell you this,” said one recent visitor. “But I think Welsh stick chairs are butt ugly.”
Asked another: “You sell these chairs? How much money for a ‘regular’ chair? You know, a ‘normal’ one.”
Or the always fun: “Really? I mean, really?”
These comments don’t hurt my feeling. In fact, I like the fact that the chair’s design is polarizing. I’ve never enjoyed making least-common denominator anything. Chris Williams, the author of “Good Work: The Chairmaking Life of John Brown,” seems to feel the same way. He wrote:
“They are all different – and a smidgen off being ugly to some.”
What keeps me going on these chairs is a short encounter about four years ago. I was getting set up in our storefront in Covington, Ky., and had just assembled a pair of Welsh stick chairs for a customer. Still in the white, they looked like albino porcupines with their pale wood and untrimmed wedges jutting out every which way.
To get them out of the way, I stuck the twin chairs on top of one of the workbenches by the storefront window and turned my attention to something else at my bench.
A few minutes later, I heard tires screech to a stop outside the store. I looked up and a car had jerked to a stop in front of the window. After about 30 seconds, a young woman got out of the car – still blocking the entire street – and she scurried to the store’s entrance. I thought she might have a medical emergency, and I met her at the door.
“What,” she asked, “are those chairs?”
I told her: Welsh stick chairs. She orbited the chairs a few times and asked to touch the faceted legs and stretchers. Meanwhile I watched her abandoned car from the corner of my eye, the driver’s side door still hanging open.
“I saw them and had to stop,” she said. “I want to buy one.”
I explained that these two were bound for the West Coast but that I could build her another. I gave her my contact information and she reluctantly left, looking at the chairs the way my wife looked at our kids when she left them at day care.
I never heard back from the woman, but that’s OK. It is still a good moment when your furniture can stop traffic.
You can now place a pre-publication order for “Good Work: The Chairmaking Life of John Brown” by Christopher Williams. The book is $49 and will ship in March 2020. If you order before that date, you will receive a free pdf download of the book at checkout.
The book is in three major parts. One part is a biography of John Brown, one of the most influential woodworking writers and chairmakers of the 20th century. It is one part philosophical treatise and features 19 of John Brown’s best columns from Good Woodworking magazine. And it is one part straight-up woodworking book, with Chris showing you how he and John Brown built Welsh stick chairs using simple hand tools and straightforward techniques.
The book represents four years of difficult (and expensive) work, both here in the States and in Wales. It features essays from the people who worked with John Brown and lived with him – including David and Anne Sears at Pantry Fields and toolmaker Matty Sears. The book is filled with many never-before-seen historical photos of Welsh stick chairs and where they were made. We also commissioned original linocuts to illustrate the book from Molly Brown, one of John Brown’s daughters. And there are many new and gorgeous photos of stick chairs from Heather Birnie.
We matched the hard work on the editorial side with excellent materials and high-end publishing techniques. The full-color interior pages are heavy and coated with a matte finish that makes them readable in any almost light. The binding is casebound – the signatures are stitched, taped and glued to last as long as possible. I know of no better binding. We wrap the book block with heavy, 98 pt. hard boards. The hinge is made with a custom endsheet. The exterior is charcoal cotton cloth with a silver diestamp. The dustjacket is a tear-resistant paper with a matte laminate. (I know these technical specs bore some customers, but there’s a reason most publishers don’t release them….)
Of course, all production and printing is in the United States.
In the coming weeks we’ll release an excerpt of the book for people who aren’t sure about “Good Work.”
As always, we don’t know which of our retailers will carry “Good Work.” It is their call, not ours. If you want your local retailer to carry it, let them know. This works surprisingly well.
And finally, a note of thanks to everyone who helped this book along its way. John Brown’s extended family and his friends were generous with their time and effort. People such as Drew Langsner supplied important background material and a wealth of photos. And many of you offered encouragement and advice – most of it great. And thanks, most of all to Chris. He embarked on this book – his first – with the desire to get it right and honor his mentor, no matter where that journey took him.