Today the headline was supposed to be: ‘The Anarchist’s Design Book’ Ready for Pre-publication Ordering.
But instead it should read: Schwartz Snuffs Six; Dies in Cocaine Brawl.
The final copperplates from Briony Morrow-Cribbs were guaranteed to arrive before noon today. At 1 p.m. I searched the house for horse sedatives and drove to the post office for some help.
“We don’t know where the package is,” said the clerk, who has honestly been very helpful during my 20 years here. “We’ll call you.”
By 5 p.m., the post office discovered that someone in Vermont had neglected to put the package on a truck. It was still in the building where Briony had dropped it off. In the meantime, Briony today made a second batch of plates (shown above) and is shipping them out via Sloth Express.
We shall see who wins the race.
If the plates arrive tomorrow, we’ll open ordering once the book is uploaded to the printer. Or it might be Friday. Or, if not then, someone will need to lure me out from under the dining table with a piece of raw meat and a net.
Once you become aware of staked furniture, you will find it everywhere. Today I was finishing up a marathon 12-hour session of editing “The Woodworker: The Charles Hayward Years” and stumbled on this short article from the February 1964 issue.
It’s billed as an exercise for beginning turners. And while I’d probably add some rake and splay to the legs, it’s a pretty charming piece as-is.
The most interesting detail of its construction is that the author recommends you cut the mortises before turning the legs. That works when you have 90° angles everywhere, but is a mess when you get into compound-angle joinery.
Luckily in “The Anarchist’s Design Book,” I have a way of dealing with this sort of compound-angle joint that is embarrassingly simple. Here’s a clue: Buy a set of spade bits and an extension for your drill.
“The Anarchist’s Design Book” will be available in the Lost Art Press store on Jan. 15 for pre-publication ordering. The book is expected to ship from our warehouse on the week of Feb. 28, 2016. (Note: All dates are subject to change because of the weather and factory schedules.)
The book will be $47, which will include domestic shipping. I am personally signing the first 1,000 books sold through our store. If you order before March 31, you also will receive the pdf version of the book for an immediate download.
We don’t know which of our retail locations will carry the book or when it will be available in their stores – that is their business, of course. So we ask your patience on that question.
“The Anarchist’s Design Book” is the result of four years of difficult work researching early furniture forms, building them, redesigning them and then building them again (and again).
The book will be 456 pages and printed in an 8” x 10” format, making it larger and longer than “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” from 2011. The book will have sewn signatures to make the book extra durable, and a hardcover with the same cloth as used on “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.”
As with all of our products, this book will be produced and printed entirely in the United States.
One of the interesting wrinkles with “The Anarchist’s Design Book” is how we are making the “book block,” which is the sewn pages minus the cover. Books from the 17th century were traditionally painted on their edges (red or black were common colors) to protect the paper from dust, water and other environmental factors that harm paper.
We’ve decided to do the same thing with “The Anarchist’s Design Book,” which was not an easy thing to do. We’ve had to switch printing plants and alter our printing process to make it happen. We’ve also decided to personally absorb this cost – this book really should be about $55.
Why? Because it’s cool and we want to do it.
We thank you all for your patience with this title and hope you find it worth the wait. We don’t have any other details on the book’s availability outside of our store or our country. As we have those details, we’ll post them here.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. My next book is going to be 64 pages and be about a snail who finds love in an unlikely location.
When you think of people who have poked the furniture manufacturing establishment, Enzo Mari should be near the top of the list. His 1974 “autoprogettazione?” exhibit, plans and book proposed that ordinary people could make their own furniture using dimensional lumber, a crosscut saw and a hammer.
No ripping. No angle cuts other than 90°. No joinery other than nails.
Mari, a noted furniture designer, offered his plans for tables, chairs, beds and shelves free to anyone who asked for them. They were later compiled into a book, “autoprogettazione?” (Edizioni Corraini, 2002), you can now buy.
A couple friends who are familiar with Mari have asked if “The Anarchist’s Design Book” was inspired by Mari’s important book. The answer is: Not really. “autoprogettazione?” is, by Mari’s admission, almost entirely about the process and not the result.
When the book was released, lots of people built the designs to save money, to “get back to nature” or finish out a cottage in a rustic style. Mari says that those people missed his point.
“Obviously (my) proposal was only intended as a practical critical exercise,” Mari writes. “Obviously objects have to be produced using machinery and the most advanced technology and only in this way is it possible to have items that are good quality and economical.”
So what was his point? Mari was trying to engage the everyday person in an exercise that would show them how things are designed and “to teach anyone to look at present production with a critical eye.”
After completing “The Anarchist’s Design Book,” I took a fresh look at “autoprogettazione?” And I also started reading a few novels like drinking from a firehose. (I try to avoid others’ writing while I’m writing for a variety of complex and stupid reasons.)
Some of Mari’s designs are actually quite successful, particularly the tables, shelves and armoire. I’m not wild about the chairs or beds, however. They do not shake off their pallet DNA enough to inspire me to pick up the tools.
And in the end, I think the act and the result are of equal importance, not only for myself but for the future of our material culture.
After getting the year’s final furniture job on the truck last week, I turned my attention to the completing the final project for “The Anarchist’s Design Book,” a coffin-turned bookshelf unit.
I’d finished the coffin in 2014, but had always meant to add shelves for my vinyl records. The coffin has been languishing in the basement and creeping out my children’s friends. (“Uh, what does your dad do for a living?”)
The shelves are spaced about 15” apart to allow plenty of room for 12” albums. It was difficult to space the shelves precisely because the sides of the coffin are tapered. Not only that, the pine has warped a bit. So getting a precise fit was a fun exercise with a bevel gauge and a block plane.
The shelves are tacked in place through the coffin sides with 4d headed nails to make them easy to remove. Then I also tacked in angled cleats above and below each shelf for some additional Soviet-style over-building.
I painted the outside and then asked my daughter Katy to paint a few images from some of our favorite records. She chose some awesome artwork from Queens of the Stone Age. She sketched the images on the bottom panel and then painted them Monday night.
The coffin hangs on a maple French cleat. Each cleat is 1” x 3” x 17”. The cleat on the cabinet is bolted through the case with 5/16” x 2” carriage bolts, large fender washers and nuts. The cleat on the wall is attached to two studs with 3/8” x 3” lag screws. I can climb this thing like a ladder, so I’m certain it will hold my records.
This morning I took the final photo (above) for the final page of “The Anarchist’s Design Book” and thought about having a Christmas morning beer. Then I thought better of it.
Briony (the illustrator) and I are still finishing up the details on a handful of illustrations, and Megan is doing one last final edit of the text. But the end is in sight.