It’s true (I eat eggs).
OK, actually I just gave myself an early Christmas gift and deleted my web browser’s links to a couple woodworking forums.
— Christopher Schwarz
I get asked (a lot) for a list of my favorite books. The problem is that I have so many books that I use and rely on, that I can’t boil down my entire library to a list of favorites.
I don’t collect tools. But I do have a book problem.
This morning I went through my two rooms of books and pulled the 10 that made a profound change in the way I work or think. You might not like these books. Sometimes you have to be ready to receive the information before it can take hold.
These are in no particular order.
“Oak: The Frame of Civilization” by William Bryant Logan. I wish I had written this book. It is part narrative, part history, part detective novel. And all engaging. If you don’t love oak, this book might change your mind. I’ve read this book straight through twice.
“The Artisan of Ipswich” by Robert Tarule. This book examines the life of Thomas Dennis in 17th-century Massachusetts. This book will help you tie furniture forms to the economic and social structures in which they are created. Fascinating stuff.
“Woodwork Joints” by Charles Hayward. Buy the Evans Bros. edition — not the junky Sterling edition. Pay whatever. This book is one of the foundational texts – even though it’s just a bunch of reprints assembled together.
“The Essential Woodworker” by Robert Wearing. I’ve written ad nauseam about this title. I love it so much that John Hoffman and I worked two years trying to get the rights to reprint it.
“Welsh Stick Chairs” by John Brown. This book made me want to build chairs so badly that I started building chairs.
“The Woodwright’s Guide” by Roy Underhill. I read it in one sitting. I love all of Underhill’s books, but this one is the most cohesive. And it’s beautifully illustrated by one of his daughters, Eleanor.
“With Hammer in Hand” by Charles F. Hummel. One of my prized possessions is an autographed copy of this book (thanks Suzanne). Like “The Artisan of Ipswich,” Hummel’s book puts the furniture and tools in context. This book made me travel to Delaware to see the Dominy shop.
“Illustrated Cabinetmaking” by Bill Hylton. This book is an encyclopedia of furniture forms that explains things in woodworking terms – rather than antique collector terms. It’s a good place to start when you designing a type of furniture you’ve never built before.
“Green Woodworking” by Drew Langsner. This book is like visiting a foreign country, a delightful foreign country. Even if you have been woodworking for decades, this book offers surprises and insights on every page. It will make you more intimate with your material.
“The Chairmaker’s Workshop” by Drew Langsner. While John Brown’s book made me want to build chairs, Langsner’s gave me the information I needed to actually do it. Though I build chairs differently now, I could not have gotten started without this book.
— Christopher Schwarz
Comparing marking knives is akin to comparing wives. It is ill-advised.
But what the heck. I use a spear-point marking knife for almost everything relating to marking out handwork. I settled on this knife after using lots of knives, both bought and borrowed.
The primary reason I like it is its shape. The thin profile gets me inside joints when transferring layout. The flat back of the tool allows me to register it against my work. And if I’m attacked in the shop, it’s good for plucking out eyeballs.
The two primary criticisms of the knife are as follows.
1. It’s not traditional. Well, neither is air conditioning, but it’s a modern invention that makes Kentucky livable. While I usually prefer traditional shapes, I have compared them to this knife and prefer the spear-point. I have room in my heart for progress.
2. The spear tip becomes rounded over in use, rendering it useless until you re-sharpen. When you see this criticism you should translate it as, “Blah, blah, blah, I don’t have much experience with spear-points.” Dude, you want a rounded tip. You should desire it. You should even create it using your stones. A rounded-over tip (see below) makes the knife track better, especially when working along the grain. And it doesn’t affect its ability to make a line. It just doesn’t.
If you want to try out a spear-point knife without plopping down a sizable payment on a Blue Spruce or Czeck Edge knife, here are two recommendations: Make one from a 1/4” spade bit. I’ve done this many times on a grinder. Cost: $1.
Buy one of the new plastic-handled marking knives from Lee Valley. These are less than $10. The Lee Valley knife is the perfect thickness and shape for handwork. Its only demerit in my book is the plastic. But you cannot beat the price and it functions just as well at the bench.
— Christopher Schwarz
See the Lost Art Press statement of ethics here if you haven’t read it already.
Here’s a quick update on things that are not happening in the shop at Lost Art Press.
I know this is a weird topic for a blog entry. But I was asked these five questions dozens of times during Woodworking in America and recently via e-mail.
We Are Not Opening a School
While we are looking for a large building for our inventory that will have a shop, a loading dock, living quarters and space for experimentation, we have no plans to open a school. I enjoy teaching, writing and building furniture. But running a school is a huge administrative task.
When we get our building, I hope we’ll have the space to allow other woodworkers to come there and collaborate with us on book projects. But it won’t be a school.
We Aren’t Hiring Employees
So who the heck is Ty Black, my so-called “shop assistant?” I never want to manage people. I’m done with that. But I am happy to work with others. Ty is a local software engineer and woodworker who works with me three days a week. He helps me with my projects. I help him with his. Some days I teach him something about handwork. Other days he teaches me something about improving my shop processes. He is definitely not an employee. I don’t pay him. I don’t tell him what to do. From henceforth I shall call him “helper monkey.”
We Aren’t Starting a Hand-tool Magazine
I’m done with running magazines and newspapers. They are crazy businesses that I have lived and breathed since 1990. I want to make things that in 100 years will still be used daily.
We Aren’t Becoming a Custom Furniture Business
I’m building a lot of furniture and selling it, but it is all in service to the writing and the publishing. After building 10 Roorkhee chairs for customers, I know a ton more about this unusual form. And I have campaign chests in mahogany and teak that I’ll be selling as the campaign furniture book progresses. And a buttload of boarded chests for “The Furniture of Necessity.”
But I’m not in the business of making (especially) workbenches and tool chests. I’d probably starve.
We Aren’t Exploring Other Crafts
Yup, blacksmithing, weaving and other traditional crafts are interesting. But we won’t be publishing books on them because we aren’t tuned in to them. We know traditional woodworking. We eat, sleep and breathe it. We know what needs to be published for other woodworkers. I couldn’t say what a blacksmith needs.
— Christopher Schwarz
I was an odd child. All through grade school, my favorite ensemble consisted of denim overalls, a T-shirt and cowboy boots – or moccasins. We were, after all, living next to a Cherokee reservation.
It is truly a miracle that I reproduced.
During the last two years I’ve experienced a retrograde in the way I dress. No matter the occasion, I wear carpenter’s jeans, a T-shirt and moccasin boots or shoes. Of these three fashion accoutrements, the moccasins are the most interesting and endearing.
They are, in essence, the equivalent of hand tools for your feet.
For years, I’ve worn all manner of hard-soled boots at work and play. My favorites – Gokey snake-proof boots I’ve owned for nearly 20 years, protected me from all sorts of nastiness. But protection comes at a price. I can wear these boots for only short periods.
As I’ve slipped back into my grade-school ways, I’ve rediscovered moccasins and moccasin boots. These are the only shoes that I regret removing at the end of the day. Like hand tools, these shoes transmit every detail of the ground I’m covering – instead of homogenizing it.
They mold to the shape of my feet, instead of twisting my toes to their shape.
Also a bonus: Many of these boots are stitched by hand, are re-soleable (a money-saving miracle) and are definitely not disposable footwear.
There are lots of shoe-makers out there who can provide you with boots that will ease your long days in the shop. I have become fond of Quoddy boots, which are made in Maine. They are expensive, but I can guarantee you that they are worth every penny. I saved for many months to buy Grizzly Boots from Quoddy and have beaten them into the ground. I’ve stomped all over the Western world. I’ve stood on my feet all day in them and regretted removing them at the end of the day. I’ve kept them oiled so that they last as long as their owner.
— Christopher Schwarz