Good news: Alexander Brothers is now selling a new stick chair kit for the Curved Back Armchair in “The Stick Chair Book.” The kit supplies all the parts you need in red elm (my favorite chair wood) for $295. The kit will also build the similar Irish armchair featured in Fine Woodworking magazine last year.
Alexander Brothers does a fantastic job of selecting straight grain for the sticks and legs. I trust them to pick wood for me. So if finding the wood for a stick chair has been holding you back from building one, this kit can fix that problem.
Alexander Brothers carries kits for many chairs and even Megan’s Dutch tool chest. Here’s a link to see the other kits.
Sharkskin or shagreen, in general, is used by all woodworkers. But the cabinetmakers do not use it except for the most fine parts, like shark fins that are called “dog-ear skin,” which have the finest nap of all skin and which, by consequence, scratch the work less. —André-Jacob Roubo “l’art du Menuisier”
The following is an excerpt from “The Stick Chair Journal.” “The Stick Chair Journal 2” is also now available. While supplies last, you can purchase a bundle of issues Nos. 1 & 2 at a reduced price.
James Krenov was the first woodworker I heard about who didn’t use sandpaper. That idea – no sandpaper – was so shocking that I can remember the moment it happened. My boss at the time handed me a copy of “A Cabinetmaker’s Notebook,” and mentioned that Krenov used only planes and scrapers to finish his furniture. I took the book with a somewhat skeptical look on my face. I was not impressed, but I was amazed.
Since that moment in the 1990s, I have met lots of woodworkers who eschew abrasives. They finish the work with edge tools only. Their sharp steel edges slice open the individual cells of the wood, allowing us to peer inside. The edge tools produce a shimmering glow in the wood that is almost unobtainable with sandpaper. And they do it all without producing the lung-destroying dust that comes with sanding.
Or that’s how the story goes.
FLAT & SMOOTH Egyptian woodworkers sanding a box, Fifth Dynasty. From “Egyptian Woodworking and Furniture” (Shire) by Geoffrey Killen.
Anyone who has embraced edge tools (myself included) goes through a phase where they finish projects using only sharpened steel edges. To be sure, this phase makes us better sharpeners. It makes us better users of planes and scrapers. But it doesn’t necessarily make our projects any better.
I invite you to conduct the following experiment. Plane one face of a board dead flat without any plane tracks. Then finish its other face with sandpaper, working up the grits with care to #220. Now finish both faces of the board with shellac, lacquer or varnish. Hand the board to another woodworker and ask them to figure out which is which.
I’ve done this. It’s a guessing game.
IT’S SANDED A stool in the British Museum that has been finished with sandstoning, according to Killen, author of “Egyptian Woodworking and Furniture.” Many pieces of Egyptian furniture show signs of being finished with scraping or rubbing with sandstone.
While there might be microscopic differences between surfaces that have been planed and those that have been sanded, they aren’t noticeable to the naked eye once a film finish has been applied. And people who say they can tell the difference are just guessing. (I have played this parlor game many times.)
So why learn to use a handplane? Easy! It’s usually faster than sanding. It produces little lung-clogging dust. And it’s frankly more enjoyable than sanding.
So why learn to sand? Because woodworkers have been doing it for at least 4,000 years (abrasive technology is older than the first handplane), and sanding can easily accomplish things that are difficult to do with edge tools.
In other words: You probably should learn to do both.
When I learned to finish surfaces, this was the routine: Plane the surfaces until you cannot improve them. Scrape any tear-out. Quickly sand the surfaces with a fine-grit paper to blend them and produce a consistent surface.
The above traditional technique (around since at least the 18th century) quickly produces nice surfaces. Using a combination of planes and abrasives is faster than using only planes or only abrasives (assuming we are all striving to get to the same destination).
If you don’t believe me, ask the ancient Egyptians. Or Grinling Gibbons. Or A.J. Roubo.
A FLEXIBLE RASP Chairmaker Chris Williams demonstrating how he and John Brown shaped the armbow using strips of abrasive, much like a shoeshiner.
BUT THERE’S MORE Sometimes I use abrasives to round over corners, produce fine chamfers or to fair curves. In other words, I use abrasives to shape the wood – not just prepare it for a finish. Unlike all the stuff above, this is not a known historical technique. Yet I gladly stand by it. Let’s talk about it.
I love my rasps. These steel tools allow me to shape wood without regard for grain direction or the shape of the wooden surface I’m working. I can just as easily shape a curved surface as I can a flat one. Rasps work by means of many tiny teeth that minutely scrape the wood. The fact that there are hundreds or thousands of teeth makes the work go quickly.
Each tooth of a rasp looks like a triangular pyramid. In fact, if you look closely enough, you will see that the teeth on a rasp look a lot like the teeth on a handsaw or backsaw. After drinking a couple beers, I would eagerly say that a rasp is only a little different than a saw. The primary difference is in the arrangement of the teeth. The teeth on a handmade rasp are scattered randomly on a steel blank. The teeth on a saw are arranged in a discreet line on one edge of the steel blank.
Also, the rasp and the saw make the same sound in use. They provide the same vibrational feedback to the user. And the teeth of the saw and the rasp both stop cutting when waste wood clogs up the teeth.
Sandpaper is not much different. Its teeth are randomly scattered over the substrate (paper, cloth, woven material). They also make tiny cuts. They also stop cutting when waste wood clogs up the teeth. And sandpaper makes the same “shushing” sound.
11 Reams and 6 Quire Paper Emery £10/3/0 1 Ream Sand Do (Paper) £0/10/0 — The 1800 inventory of ironmonger Christopher Gabriel of London. A ream is 500 sheets, and a quire is 24 sheets. So, Gabriel had 5,644 sheets of emery paper and 500 sheets of sandpaper on hand that day. From “Christopher Gabriel and the Tool Trade in 18th Century London” (Astragal Press) by Jane & Mark Rees.
Put another way, sandpaper is just a flexible rasp or saw. It uses the same cutting technology – tiny teeth. The only difference is that with sandpaper the teeth are bonded to a flexible backing.
So, if you don’t use sandpaper, is it because you are opposed to paper or cloth?
I’m not trying to be a jerk. I am happy for you to use the tools that please you. If you hate sandpaper, fine. Don’t use sandpaper. But don’t delude yourself into some historical reverie in the process. And don’t (as mentioned above) assert that a sanded surface is inferior.
Abrasives have been around for as long as human history has been recording its progress. They have been used in woodworking since (at least) ancient Egypt. They show up throughout history – even in the beloved Golden Age of Furniture in the 18th century. And like any tool, they are useful when used in the right place, in the right way and at the right time.
In other words, don’t make a chair seat using only #40-grit sandpaper (unless that’s the only tool you have). That’s just as peculiar as making the seat using only a scraper or a travisher. Or only an adze.
The world is filled with many good tools and questionable opinions. So, keep an open mind and pick the tools you like and that bring happiness (or, as in my case, buy groceries).
If access to wood (or lumberyard anxiety) is what’s holding you back from making a stick chair or Dutch tool chest, here’s an excellent solution: Alexander Brothers is now offering full kits for several types of stick chairs (in a selection of species), as well as blanks for legs, seat and more. Plus, there’s a new kit for the Dutch tool chest in pine, cherry or walnut (and the parts come ready .
We’ve ordered from Alexander Bros a number of times now, and are always impressed with how carefully Shea Alexander and his employees pick the chair stock for straightness of the grain and overall beauty. And I am impressed with how lovely the pine was for a recent Dutch tool chest class. In other words, you can trust that you’ll get good stuff.
NB: We do not receive any royalty or kickback on the sales of these kits – we’re just happy Shea is willing to do them. It’s a nice service for those who need help sourcing/choosing/milling wood. (Heck – I’m buying DTC kits from Shea for my February 2025 class, because I’m not going to have time to make them myself – one less worry for me. Thank you, Shea!)
The curators (one is standing in the rear of the photo) were pleasantly bemused by us.
I love books, photos and drawings, but if you want to quickly learn a lot about making and designing chairs, there is one path: Study the suckers in person every chance you get. Up close and slowly.
Last week, Welsh chairmaker Chris Williams arranged for me and some friends to study four old stick chairs in the collection at the Carmarthenshire Museum. Only one of these chairs was currently on display, so it was a chance to see some chairs that aren’t in the public eye. In addition to Chris and me, we had Megan Fitzpatrick, Kale Vogt, Ryan Saunders plus Tim and Betsan Bowen of Tim Bowen Antiques. Lots of eyes, both fresh and old.
This entry is a close look at these four chairs, and some of what I learned from them. There’s no way this blog entry can replicate my in-person experience. But it’s cheaper than a trip to Wales. Note, I didn’t take measurements of these chairs, so don’t bother asking for them. For me, the proportions and angles are far more important than eighths of an inch.
The short sticks were the first thing we investigated.
Brown Comb-back
This is a massive and well-proportioned chair that has a low stance and some curious details.
Let’s start with the obvious: it has only two short sticks holding up the armbow. That’s a rare configuration for a comb-back, so we immediately took a closer look. The thick brown-yellow paint (one of several colors) didn’t show any evidence of missing short sticks. But turning the chair over showed us the truth.
Though the underside of the arm was painted, raking light from a flashlight showed evidence of at least two more sticks that were missing under each arm. This was a relief in some ways, as the single stick under the hand was tempting me to try something stupid in a future chair.
Here you can see how the seat and arm curve inward toward the front of the seat. Also, note the two different hand shapes.
Next, we looked at the seat. Despite what I’ve seen in the past, I’m always surprised by how thick the seats on these chairs can be. I’ve seen them as thick as 3”. This one is a full 2” thick, with a generous bevel on the front of the chair that lightens the visual load (the “vertically striped shirt” of the chair world).
The seat looked like a typical D-shaped seat until we took a look from the rear of the chair. The sections of a D-shaped seat that are usually straight weren’t straight. They curved in toward the front edge of the seat.
When we looked at the shape of the armbow, this made sense. The armbow also curved inward toward the front of the chair. Many Welsh chairs begin with an arm shape, with the seat shape flowing from that. Perhaps the arm was made from a curved branch. Perhaps not. The paint wasn’t telling.
Other interesting details: The hands of the arm were not identical. This happens more than you might think. I don’t think the builder intentionally made two separate hands. I suspect that the hand shapes were determined by the wood itself, its defects or voids.
Note the repair on the arm – a common feature on these chairs and nothing to be ashamed of.
The legs were shaved round – you could still feel the facets.
A straight-on shot of the comb (you’re welcome).
My favorite part of this chair is the playful comb. Its basic shape is common: two Mickey Mouse-like ears on the ends with a raised area between them. But the chair’s builder went further. The ends have a delightful cove on the underside. And the top of the comb has a nice convex curve. The whole thing looks like a crown.
Despite the bark on the front seat, this is a well-considered chair.
Lowback
This tidy lowback has some secrets, some of which we were able to suss out.
First, look at the front edge of the seat. Yup, that’s bark. Wide boards have always been difficult to come by, so they didn’t waste any width on this one.
Evidence of a replaced stick.
The front posts were curious. They looked more English or West Country to my eye. They were joined to the chair with square mortise-and-tenon joints, while the rest of the joints in the chair were cylindrical. A close look under the arm showed us the shadow of a round mortise behind the square front posts. Likely the front posts are a replacement.
Also curious: None of the tenons for the short sticks poke through the armbow. They’re all blind. This feature is isn’t unique to this chair. It got me thinking how the mortises were drilled when the chair was built.
All the mortises through the seat were through-mortises – not blind. I think there’s a chance that some of the mortises were drilled from below the seat and then directly into the arm. The sticks all seem to lean back the same amount. So, it’s possible. Who knows?
Nice shoe. Some would call this a “swan’s neck.“
Finally, take a look at the beautiful shoe. The detail on its ends – an ogee and fillet – are nicely proportioned. And the hands are also tidy. I think this chair was made by a skilled hand.
This piece deserves its own investigation.
Unusual Child’s Chair
The third chair is one I didn’t spend much time with because of its odd construction. You see this in chairs in Ireland and Scandinavia more than Wales. I kinda wonder if it’s an import. The turned legs and insanely thick seat added to its curious stance.
I forgot to ask the curators about the provenance on this chair. Perhaps that will give us some answers.
The charmer of the group (both the chair and Chris Williams).
The Best of the Bunch
The final chair in this group was my favorite (I wasn’t alone). All the details point to the fact it was made by a trained woodworker. The provenance of the chair supported this idea.
A clever and attractive stretcher arrangement.
First, take a look at the undercarriage. The side stretchers are tapered octagons. What is (somewhat) unusual is that they are ovals in cross-section. The stretchers are thicker than they are wide. It’s a trick that allows you to use a thicker tenon for the medial stretcher without adding bulk. I’ve seen this detail before, but not this well executed.
I’ll be stealing that idea.
The hands.
The hands on this chair aren’t identical, but they are close and crisply executed.
Compared to the other chairs in this group, the rake and splay of the legs is dramatic, adding to the overall dynamic stance of the chair. Also, take a look at the long sticks and the comb. The long sticks splay out perfectly. When paired with the undercarriage, the chair has an attractive hourglass shape.
Note how the arm is attached (and another shot of the undercarriage).
The most unusual aspect of the chair is its front posts. They’re tenoned into the arm but then lapped onto the seat and reinforced with screws. It’s another of the joiner-like touches on this chair that points to a trained maker.
This chair is the one the museum has on display for the public. I agree with their choice. This is a special chair.
You can now order the carefully chosen wooden parts needed for the Hobbit-y Chair from The Stick Chair Journal No. 2. The kits are $295 and are in red elm, my favorite chairmaking wood.
You can order a kit here from Alexander Brothers in Virginia. Shea Alexander and his employees have been supplying me with chair wood for almost a year now, and I am really happy with the stock they pick, both for straightness of the grain and overall beauty.
We do not receive any royalty or kickback on the sales of these kits. Shea was willing to do them, and we consider it a service for people who live in areas where wood is difficult to purchase, or where the woodworker isn’t confident in choosing their wood.
