Some of the marquetry and boullework in “To Make as Perfectly as Possible” might seem out of reach for your skills. Or perhaps you haven’t seen the beautiful result of this technique.
In any case, head over to Yannick Chastang’s web site to see a short and inspiring video of the process that was produced for the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. Here’s the link. You’ll have to supply your own soundtrack because there is no audio.
Except for the last few pages being batted back and forth between Michele, Philippe and me, the translated and edited manuscript for “To Make As Perfectly As Possible: Roubo on Furniture Making” now resides in Chris Schwarz’s lap. Given the number of projects fighting for space on the scrawny lap, I would suggest Chris go on a “donut-an-hour” diet for the foreseeable future.
I am often asked the problematic question, “So what did you find in Roubo that surprised you the most?” (Or some such variation. Why not just ask me which of my children I love more?) I am not sure of the answer, but there are some interesting “tonal” differences between “Roubo on Furniture Making” and “Roubo on Marquetry.” Though our first volume, “Roubo on Marquetry,” contains material that was presented later in “L’art du Menuisier” than the material in “Roubo on Furniture Making,” I find the tenor to be quite different. In “Marquetry,” Roubo assumed the reader knew how to use woodworking tools and techniques, but he also recognized that the reader might not know how to use these particular woodworking tools and techniques, and the instructions are quite detailed as a result.
In “Furniture Making,” Roubo makes no such allowances. He knows the reader can use the tools and techniques, so he spends his time telling the reader how to use those techniques to accomplish a particular end. The difference is both subtle and fundamental. While he covers the subjects pretty thoroughly, he wastes no time waxing ecstatic about joinery. His attitude seemed to be if you do not already know how to do it the right way, you are not ready to read his treatise. No breathless prose. Just do it, Grasshopper. Perfectly.
Nevertheless, nuggets of solid gold are sprinkled liberally throughout the text. One of my great regrets is that there was not a recording being made of our readings and comment sessions as we worked our way through the manuscript. Sometimes our discussions of a topic engaged us for scores of enthused minutes. I suspect they may do that for you as well.
“Furniture Making” will be a larger book but will include fewer essays than “Marquetry.” I cannot yet tell if that is because Roubo addressed the topics in a more straightforward manner and the topics were more familiar, or perhaps we were just getting inside his head and knew what he was saying. Chris will have to provide feedback on that one.
At the moment there are plans for four major essays and perhaps a half-dozen short ones. Of the long ones, I am writing only the essay on truing rough-sawn lumber a la Roubo. His method made me smack my forehead and exclaim, “Of course!”
Some guy name Schwarz is contributing an essay on The Workbench – a moment of silence, please – to augment the text accompanying Plate 11. We presented the text accompanying that Plate to the FORP participants last summer, and I think they would confirm it is killer stuff.
Philippe Lafargue will provide an essay comparing his training as a classical chairmaker at Ecole Boulle in the 1980s to the account contained in Roubo, and historical upholsterer Mike Mascelli will recreate and photograph some of the techniques from the chapter on chairs.
When? To quote our publisher, “It will be ready when it is ready.”
The Internet is a strange and absolutely wonderful place. You can have productive and involved relationships with people you have never met. I have heard that people even find intimacy (note, you will never find those photos of me with the weasels. Nope. Don’t bother.)
Today I had the huge pleasure of meeting Michele Pietryka-Pagán and her husband during a meeting of the Society of Period Furniture Makers meeting in Rockville, Md. Michele is the lead translator of “To Make as Perfectly as Possible.” Without her, there would be no Roubo translation.
It was, for me, a special moment. Michele and Don Williams discussed the project at some length during the meeting, and it was fun to see them play off one another. They worked together at the Smithsonian, and the friendly connection is obvious.
Also this week, I plan to meet some other long-time contributors to Lost Art Press.
On Friday and Saturday I’ll be meeting Jennie Alexander, author of “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree” to discuss a super-secret project that is still in its first trimester. And sometime this week, I hope to connect with Suzanne Ellison, the official saucy indexer for Lost Art Press.
Yes, there will be adult supervision.
OK, time to go back to sleep. I have a nasty virus, which I did not contract from the Internet (or those weasels).
Philippe Lafargue, my Roubo translation collaborator and long-time friend, has been insulted.
Deeply. By M. Roubo himself.
Roubo’s chapters on chairmaking are technically sublime, with many profound insights and word pictures I find captivating. However, he is incessant in his demeaning descriptions of chairmakers, accusing them of being sloppy, careless, unskilled and slothful. Somewhere between the lines he is probably implying that they are hung over, their feet stink and they don’t love Jesus. Though he does not comment on their table manners, we can guess what he might say.
As a graduate of the renowned École Boulle curriculum in classical French chairmaking, Philippe unsurprisingly takes umbrage at these characterizations. He has gone so far as to wonder out loud (well, in print correspondence) why it is that Roubo was so contemptuous of chairmakers.
If we knew where Roubo is buried, it might be worth trying to dig him up and asking him. When you read Roubo’s accounts of chairmaking, you will no doubt ask yourselves the same question.
My recent article on the new polissoirs from Don’s Barn and a long-term test of the burnishing effect from the tool had a significant error: The photo showed the wrong sample board.
That similar-looking sample board was given to me by woodworker Steve Schafer – he’ll be blogging about the finishing schedule on that sample board in the near future.
Last tight I rooted through my wood rack to find the mahogany sample that I prepared 18 months ago. I made it halfway through the rack without finding it; when it turns up, I’ll post a photo of it.
In the meantime, here are photos of two projects that I finished with a polissoir about the same time I made the sample board. These two stools were finished with a polissoir only on the lathe. Like all properly prepared polissoirs, it had a little wax on the tip, which was applied when I first got the tool. But I wouldn’t call this a wax finish. It’s a burnished finish, much like the burnishing finish you get when you use shavings to polish a piece spinning on the lathe.
So the result isn’t wrong – just the photo.
Apologies for the error. I should have marked Steve’s sample board as it is very similar looking to mine.
