Category: Roman Workbenches

John and I have decided to make significant changes to the manufacturing specifications of the letterpress version of “Roman Workbenches.” So much so that I’ve taken the unprecedented step of deleting my post from Jan. 29 to avoid confusion.

After much research, we’ve decided to offer “Roman Workbenches” fully bound with a two-part cloth cover, sewn binding, heavy endsheets and headbands. The binding will easily meet (and likely exceed) what we offer on typical Lost Art Press Books.

The price (including domestic shipping) will be $87 – still less than the $100 we promised. The book will go on sale at noon Eastern time on Sunday, Feb. 5. There will be 500 copies available.

Why make the change to the binding? Well, once I started pricing sewing and taping the binding, it was only a little bit more money to simply complete the binding. So John and I decided to go all the way (with the book binding).

If you are like me and really really want to bind your own book, we will have some unbound book blocks and will put those up for sale once the 500 are bound. I suspect the price for the unbound book blocks will be $77 (I know, it’s not a big savings; hence, our decision).

I am sorry (and a bit embarrassed) at this change. We try not to alter manufacturing specs like this in midstream. But I know it’s the correct thing to do.

See you Sunday (I hope, or we will flush away many thousands of American dollars).

— Christopher Schwarz

We are quickly closing in on getting “Roman Workbenches” to press at Steamwhistle Press, and I would like to tell you this now: This is unlike any book we have done before.

The book will be printed letterpress on an old Vandercook proofing press – the same press we used to print “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” posters. To print the book we will first make special polymer plates that will be affixed to the bed of the Vandercook. Every sheet of paper will be fed by hand into the press and pulled for drying by hand.

Normally we print our books at Lost Art Press using a modern and highly automated offset process, which is (relatively) inexpensive and produces a nice result.

But letterpress printing is something else. It’s physical instead of chemical. Every character and every line makes an impression into the paper. The ink spread is regulated by hand. So a letterpress book is as much a textural experience as an intellectual one. If you have ever held a book from the 18th or 19th century and wondered why it spoke to you, my guess is you have sensed this manufacturing difference.

This week Brian Stuparyk at Steamwhistle and I pored over paper samples to find the right combination of brightness, weight and texture. Right now it looks like we are going to use paper from Mohawk, which made the paper for the deluxe edition of “Roubo on Marquetry.”

Also, Nicholas Moegly is now working on the 14 hand-drawn illustrations for the book (a draft of Figure 1 is at the top of this entry).

Once we deliver our finished layouts to Brian at Steamwhistle, he estimates it will take him an entire month of running the press to print the 500 books we’ve ordered.

After going over all the details of this book – handmade benches, handmade illustrations and a manual letterpress, I wondered: What the &^%* am I doing here?

But this weekend we had the Lost Art Press storefront open and we were busy from the time I unlocked the doors until I kicked the last two customers out at 5:15 p.m. Many of them were fascinated by the two Roman workbenches in my shop. How do they work? How did you find out about them? How did you make them? Can you use them to build furniture?

This short book – 64 pages and only 3/8” thick – will answer all those questions. And it will be a (for lack of a better word) sensual experience.

The downside? There will only be 500. That’s the absolute limit for the equipment, people involved, space and energy. We’ll sell it only through Lost Art Press (there really aren’t enough to ship them to retailers). But we’ll make special arrangements so international customers can buy them from us.

We’ll have a price for the book and more details later this week. Until then, I hope you dream of Perdix (shown above) and the tools he invented.

— Christopher Schwarz

I finished writing the first draft of “Roman Workbenches” and have been combing through the text to find all the “snakebites” – the little details that get missed when you are writing at the speed of a firehose.

One of the details relates to the only surviving Roman workbenches I know of: three workbench tops found at a Roman fort in Saalburg. The descriptions of these tops appear in many of the classic woodworking history texts, but none discuss how they were found, what species of wood they are or offer many details about the location of the holes for workholding.

I haven’t had any luck contacting Saalburg, but a German woodworking friend is on the case.

In the meantime, take a look at these two drawings from W.L. Goodman’s “The History of Woodworking Tools” (after J.M. Greber’s book on planes) and another image from Günther Heine’s “Das Werkzeug….” Both images of one of the Saalburg tops show it with two mortises in the front edge.

Goodman theorizes it could have been for a T- or U-shaped piece of wood for holding wood to the bench.

Sure. You could also put your Roman weed in it.

I’ve been thinking about these mortises for a long time. They show up on a few benches here and there from different time periods. But I have yet to find one that accompanies the appliance or device that used the mortise.

I have some theories. I’m sure you do, too. Here are a few of mine:

1. We’re looking at the back of the workbench and the mortises are for a chisel/tool rack, much like what you see on French workbenches.
2. The mortises are left over from when the piece of wood was used for something else. It could have been part of a timberframe construction that was laid out incorrectly. In other words, the workbench top is made from a scrap.
3. It could be part of a device where you drive in wedges against stops to saw tenons. Imagine that you put a stop in each mortise. Put your work between the stops. Drive a wedge in the gap to hold it for tenoning or whatever.
4. Aliens.

If you have any sound ideas, you know what to do.

— Christopher Schwarz

 

You can now watch the episode of Roy Underhill’s “The Woodwright’s Shop” where I discuss the two Roman workbenches I built this summer. Here’s the link to the episode. Yes, I know the text says I’m blacksmith Peter Ross. I’m sure they’ll fix it at some point.

If you want to go deeper into the topic of Roman workbenches, be sure to check out issue two of Mortise & Tenon magazine, which features an article on the low bench and how to use it for cabinetmaking and joinery operations (even dovetails). The issue ships in early January.

And if you are as crazy as I am, stay tuned for the letterpress book we’re producing on these benches here at Lost Art Press and in conjunction with Steamwhistle Press. The first draft of the book is almost fully written. Now I just have to decide if I need to rewrite it with a more sober tone. Right now it reads more like Hunter S. Thompson on workbenches (without the mescaline).

— Christopher Schwarz