Sunday thoughts from Charles Hayward (excerpted from “Honest Labour” – a collection of essays from The Woodworker magazine).
The mediaeval system of apprenticeship, by which the apprentices helped to sell—in booths which then served as shops before their master’s dwellings—the wares they had made, had one considerable advantage. It brought the maker of an article into direct contact with customers or potential customers, and therefore into direct contact with any criticisms levelled at their work. It may be that only the hardier spirits would venture seriously to criticise, for London apprentices, we know, were notoriously quick-tempered, and their cries of “What d’ye lack? What d’ye lack?” were frequently interrupted by the rallying cry of “’Prentices-clubs!” which brought them all pouring out to make common cause against any unfortunate citizen who had ventured to offend them. But, even so, there must have been a regular interchange of opinion between customer and craftsman which was helpful to both, and a far healthier state of affairs than that existing to-day, when fashions in furniture and design are entirely at the mercy of manufacturers behind the scene with whom the customer has no possible contact.
We have all experienced the utter futility of complaining to a salesman whose only job it is to sell the goods. A shrug and the comment that: “That is all the fashion now” is the only answer we get, except from the most intelligent, and the result is to be seen in a general lowering of standards both in workmanship and taste. One might cite as an example the massive upholstered suites which flooded the market some years ago. Nothing could have been more unsuitable for the average modern house, with its small box-like rooms, but it was only by going to the utmost trouble and expense that one was able to track down anything of reasonable size. The public simply had no say in the matter. Its only possible retort would have been to refuse to buy, and that is unfortunately what it does not do. The very prevalence of a mass-produced article seems to have a hypnotising effect. People come to take it for granted as “the fashion,” and honest criticism is lulled to sleep or given up in despair.
And a great pity it is. It is not good for any of us to get into the habit of accepting things passively. By keeping our minds critically alert we do at least keep them alive and develop our powers of judgment, the chances being that if we fail to exercise them over the less important things, they will fail us over the big. The mind, like any tool, can be blunted and spoiled by rust and neglect, can lose its fine cutting edge, grow slack and unreliable. And so we lose any chance we might have had to influence our fellows, so at least doing something to mould the world a little nearer to our heart’s desire.
Honest criticism is a necessary prelude to any really sound constructive work. It is necessary in all good furniture making. But it has to be based on a real habit of thought and observation. We have to be able to be honest with ourselves, and patient, too, in order that our skill may grow. We have to be able to look at our own work, and the work of others, critically; to contrast and compare methods and designs. In this way we shall gradually acquire the knowledge that is more than skill—an appreciation of what is really good and sound, of the part played by true proportion and clean, shapely line in a really fine piece of work, and a standard of taste which will become a natural part of our mental make-up, so that we shall not tolerate—at least in our own homes—anything that falls below it.
I was chatting with Kara Gebhart Uhl about some new “Meet the Author” profiles, and realized that while we have a blog category for Nancy Hiller’s “Little Acorns,” we don’t have an easy way to find the profiles Kara and others have written. So, I’ve added a new category to our drop-down menu: Profiles. There, you’ll find 75 good reads about woodworkers (and that number will no doubt grow as I find ones I’ve missed).
Kale and I had a brief discussion of mouldings and moulding planes last week as she worked on her tool chest, and raised a square panel for one piece using a rabbet plane. And that reminded me of Peter Nicholson’s discussion of moulding profiles, which I love in large part because of the mellifluous nomenclature. Scotia. Quirk. Cavetto. Astragal. Yum. Here is part of that text, which teaches you how to draw a handful of profiles, excerpted from our reprint of “Mechanic’s Companion.”
§ 68. To draw the several kinds of Mouldings made by Joiners.
An astragal is a moulding of a semi-circular profile; its construction is so simple that it would be unnecessary to say anything concerning it. Fig. 1. [Editor’s note: Ha.]
There are two kinds of beads, one is called a cocked bead, when it projects beyond the surface to which it is attached, see Fig. 2; and the other is called a sunk bead, when the sinking is depressed beneath the surface of the material to which it is attached, that is, when the most prominent part of the bead is in the same surface with that of the material, Fig. 3.
A torus in architecture is a moulding of the same profile as a bead; the only difference is, when the two are combined in the same piece of work, the torus is of greater magnitude, as Fig. 4; in Joinery the torus is always accompanied with a fillet. Fig. 5. single torus moulding.
The Roman ovolo or quarter round, as called by joiners, is the quadrant of a circle, Fig. 6. When the projection and height are unequal, as in Fig. 7, take the height B C, and from the point B describe an arc at C, and with the same radius from A, describe another arc cutting the former at D, with the distance A D or D B describe the profile A B. This is generally accompanied with fillets above and below, as in Fig. 7.
The cavetto is a concave moulding, the regular profile of which is the quadrant of a circle, Fig. 8; its description is the same as the ovolo.
A scotia is a concave moulding receding at the top, and projecting at the bottom, which in this respect is contrary both to the ovolo and cavetto; it is also to be observed, that its profile consists of two quadrants of circles of different radii, or it may be considered as a semi-ellipse taken upon two conjugate diameters, Fig. 9.
To describe the scotia, divide the height A B into three equal parts, at the point 2 draw the line 2 C D, being one-third from the top, draw E C perpendicular to C D, with the centre C and distance C E describe the quadrant E F; take the height A 2 and make F D equal to it: draw D G perpendicular to F D, from D with the distance D F describe the arc F G, and E F G will be the profile of the scotia. This moulding is peculiarly applied to the bases of columns, and makes a distinguishing line of shadow between the torii.
The ogee is a moulding of contrary curvature, and is of two kinds: when the profile of the projecting part is concave, and consequently the receding part convex, the ogee is called a cima-recta, Figs. 10 and 11 ; and when the contrary, it is then called a cima-reversa, Fig. 12.
To describe the cima-recta when the projection of the moulding is equal to its height, and when required to be of a thick curvature, Fig. 10. Join the projections of the fillets A and B by the straight line A B; bisect A B at C, draw E C D parallel to the fillet F A, draw A D and B E perpendicular to F B; from the point E describe the quadrant B C, and from the point D describe the quadrant A C, then B C A is the profile.
To describe the cima-recta when the height and projection are unequal, and when it is required to be of a flat curvature, Fig. 11. Join A B and bisect it in C, with the distance B C or C A from the point A describe the arc C D, from C with the same radius describe the arc A D cutting the former in D, the foot of the compass still remaining in C describe the arc B E, from B with the same radius describe the arc C E, from the point D describe the arc A C, from the point E describe the arc C B, then will A C B be the profile required.
The cima-reversa, Fig. 12, is described in the same manner.
Quirk mouldings sometimes occasion confusion as to their figure particularly when removed from the eye, so as frequently to make one moulding appear as two.
The following is excerpted from “Shaker Inspiration” by Christian Becksvoort.
Not too many woodworkers can claim five decades of business success, but Becksvoort is among them. In “Shaker Inspiration,” he shares not only his woodworking knowledge and some of his best professional techniques for producing top-quality work, but also the business advice that helped him establish and sustain his long career in a one-man shop. Plus, he shares measured drawings for 13 of his own well-known furniture designs and seven Shaker pieces that he’s reproduced.
I stack my parts four or six high. That way I only clamp once on each side, for all parts. Let’s say it takes four hits per side to get halfway into each socket, or eight hits altogether. That means I have to switch chisels eight times (a wide chisel for the baseline, then a narrow chisel to remove the waste). If I do one socket at a time, and I have 12 sockets to chop, that means I switch chisels 96 times. By cutting all baselines on all pieces, then switching chisels and removing the first 1/16″ (.16cm) of waste, I save a lot of time.
3-13B. Here’s the first hit, with a 1/2″ (1.27cm) chisel and a very light tap directly in the scribe line.
Switching to a narrow chisel, I take out a thin sliver of waste on all the tails. Then I set the other chisel up against the shoulder I’ve just created at the scribe line, and give it a profound whack. I tend to tilt the chisel forward about 1°, to undercut the waste. Again I chop all of them, switch chisels, remove waste and do it once more, until I reach the middle of the tail boards. Then I flip them all over, re-clamp, and proceed in the exact same manner on the other side.
3-13C. Once all the light hits are done on all the pieces, I use a 3/16″ (.47cm) chisel to take out a thin sliver of waste on all the sockets.
When done, I clamp each board upright in my vise, then clean the corners with a thin-bladed knife. Remember that bevel-edged chisels have a narrow 90° edge, and the dovetail angles are less. There is almost always a bit of waste in each corner. We like crisp, clean tails, right into the corners.
3-13D. With the shoulder of the socket established, my second hit is a vigorous whack. I tilt the chisel forward about 1° or 2° for a slight undercut. In pine, that hit should easily reach half way into the socket. For hardwoods, it may take two or three hits (removing the waste each time) to reach the middle.
3-13E. Once I reach the middle of the socket, I use the narrow chisel to remove a much thicker waste piece.
3-13F. When one side is done, I flip the whole pile over, re-clamp it, and follow the same process on the other side.
Kale Vogt grew up just south of Covington, in Burlington, Kentucky, in a close-knit family – mom, dad and an older brother, T.J. A self-proclaimed “art kid,” Kale was athletic, playing soccer through high school, and loved to spend time outdoors. Kale’s mom is a special needs bus aide for elementary students, and Kale’s dad served in the military for 25 years, worked in HVAC for a while, and helped inspire Kale’s creativity.
“When I was young, he was really into woodworking,” Kale says. “I grew up surrounded by it but I was so conditioned to it I didn’t take much interest in it, honestly. Now that I’m older, it’s ironic to me that I’ve circled back to that. It’s something I obviously deeply appreciate now.”
This circle includes a loved childhood, a stint in art school, boondocking out West, working in a bakery then landing at Lost Art Press. Here’s Kale’s story.
99 Days Out West
After graduating high school, Kale worked food and retail gigs while trying to figure out how to pursue a career that allowed for creativity. Eventually, Kale took some gen-ed classes at a local community college, then studied studio arts at Northern Kentucky University while living in an apartment, solo for the first time, serving tables to pay for college.
“I got to the point where it began to seem silly to graduate with a major in studio arts,” Kale says. “I thought, ‘I don’t know what I want to do, why I am putting myself through this if I don’t know my focus.’”
Around this time Kale saw photos online of a hike in Zion National Park.
“I was completely blown away,” Kale says. “Having never been west of Chicago, I was like, ‘Wow. There’s a whole world out there.’”
Kale says they became obsessed (a word not used lightly) with the idea of traveling out West and spent the next 10 months planning, researching and saving up money – $8,000 for the entire trip. They took the passenger seat out of their 2010 Honda Fit and put in a cot. And then, in the summer of 2017, Kale started in the Southwest and did a big balloon loop, up through California and the Pacific Northwest, back down to Colorado.
One of Kale’s favorite trips: backpacking through the Sierras.
“It turned out to be, in total, 99 days where I was living alone, on the road, at 22,” Kale says. “I really put my parents through it,” they add, laughing. “There were daily texts to my mom. For the plenty of times I was out of service I would give her a heads up. Overall, hands down, one of the most influential trips I’ve ever taken. I truly don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t take that trip.”
Every day Kale hiked. They hiked Antelope Canyon in Arizona and got a permit to climb Half Dome in Yosemite – a 17-mile day chasing a loved feeling of being so small. They took a sunrise plane ride over the Cascades.
“I was really just living, you know?” Kale says. “Every day was a new hike, and every day was a brand-new experience. It was so memorable for me, all of my senses felt heightened. Everything was new to me.”
Kale boondocked and got a jetboil, living on soup, chili and oatmeal. Once home and having developed a deep passion for public lands, Kale immediately started applying for jobs with the National Park Service.
Four National Parks
Kale applied for more than 30 jobs before getting a call from Kings Canyon National Park in California. They loved the outdoors and had three months experience traveling – that’s it. At the end of the interview the interviewer asked Kale if they had anything to add.
“I basically just bared my soul to the person, begging her,” Kale says. “I was 23 at this point, and I said something along the lines of, ‘I know I may not have on paper a lot of experience but I have a lot of passion. I really think I’d be a great addition…’.”
A week later Kale received an email with a job offer.
Kale’s first year in the National Park Service, Kings Canyon, 2018.
For the next three-and-a-half years, Kale worked at four national parks. As a visitor-use assistant, they started out driving a camp truck from campground to campground in Kings Canyon, reporting visitor usage, ensuring folks were following the rules and performing general safety checks. From there Kale spent the winter at Arches National Park in Southern Utah, watching snow fall on red rocks.
“I love desert; it’s my happy place,” Kale says.
Next up was Glacier National Park.
“Turns out, Montana is very cold,” Kale says, laughing. “And so, from Montana I went back down to Zion, which was a full-circle moment for me. Zion is what inspired me to go out West and it ended up being my last job in the Park service.”
It was 2020, the start of Covid, and everyone wanted to get outside – Zion got hundreds of thousands more visitors that year than the year prior.
“It kind of just did me in,” Kale says. “It was a lot.”
By this point, Kale hadn’t lived longer than five months in any one place for three-and-a-half years and knew that a lifelong career working for the National Parks wasn’t what they wanted. Covid helped Kale realize they needed to get in touch with their roots again.
“Those relationships are hard to keep up when you’re on the road and moving,” Kale says. “So I came back to my family here in Northern Kentucky.”
Home
The first year back turned out to be really tough. Transitioning from an active lifestyle where they had complete control of what came next while living in some of the most beautiful places in the world to a period in their life where they didn’t know what the future held was difficult.
“I was feeling kind of lost,” Kale says. “I tried out this new thing that I was so passionate and sure of at first then it turned out to not be for me. It was scary. I didn’t know where to go from there.”
Kale lived with their parents for three months to get back on their feet and then found an apartment in Covington.
“I wasn’t sure what route I wanted to take,” Kale says. “Coming back I knew I was ready to focus on a creative career. Though I didn’t know what that would look like yet. It had always been my dream growing up and going to college – I wanted to do something creative, but I could never land on a focus.”
Kale worked at REI for a year.
“It’s what was comfortable, but I knew it wasn’t the goal,” Kale says. “I felt I’d done this – I’ve taken this route before to no avail.”
While visiting a local farmer’s market, Kale talked to some folks at North South Baking Co. and asked if they were hiring. They were.
“Honestly, I’m not much of a home baker at all,” Kale says. “I just really appreciate pastries.”
Kale brought drawings that could be translated to stickers or other merch to the interview. This, they thought, could be a path to a more creative career. But with few employees there was little time for extra creative pursuits. Kale did whatever was needed – retail, deliveries and working farmers’ markets. North South Baking Co. had a lot of regulars. Christopher Schwarz was one of them.
Building a Chair & the Start of Something New
“Full transparency, I didn’t know what Lost Art Press was,” Kale says. “I was looking for a restaurant on Google maps for lunch and ‘press’ was in the name. When I Google mapped ‘press,’ Lost Art Press came up.”
Kale pulled up LAP’s website and thought it looked interesting.
“I immediately see Chris and think, Wait a minute. This guy is a regular here. I see him all the time!”
Soon after this discovery, Chris came back into the bakery.
“I told him about how I came across his website and how amazing I think his work is,” Kale says. “I asked him about himself and figured, surely, he’s gone to college for industrial design and he’s like, ‘No, I actually just have hippie parents who were homesteaders and that’s how I learned woodworking.’ By the end of our convo he says, ‘Why don’t you come by sometime? We give out scholarships to local people if you’re interested. We could chat about that if you like.’ Which of course I say, ‘I’d love that.’”
The next day Megan Fitzpatrick came into the bakery and handed Kale her card and a copy of “The Stick Chair Book.”
“I was blown away,” Kale says. “I just talked to Chris and am now discovering this world, it was an exciting time. I was so thankful.”
A few weeks later Kale met with Chris and Megan for about a half hour after work one day, and Chris offered a scholarship to build a chair. It was mid-November and the bakery was busy with pre-holiday orders. With more time the first week of December Kale reached back out – they wanted to build a chair.
“Chris took me up to the lumberyard for our first day,” Kale says. “We picked out the wood, and he taught me how to read the grain, which I found super interesting. I was documenting all of it. I have so many pictures on my phone of this process because I figured, surely, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
Kale gluing up their first chair. Photo by Chris Schwarz
Kale began working on the chair at LAP several days a week. After working an eight-hour shift at the bakery, Kale at first found the additional two to three hours of chairmaking exhausting. But then, it became something they not only look forward to, but found energizing.
“It really lit me up,” Kale says. “This was a whole new world I was trying my best to absorb in real-time.”
It took Kale about a month and a half to build their first five-stick chair.
“It’s really unfortunate how unhappy I am with my first chair,” Kale says. “Looking back, it’s difficult knowing what I know now. I literally knew nothing going in. I had no idea what stick chairs were. I was trying to take in the history of stick chairs on top of designing one for the first time. I didn’t have a vision going in. So now, of course, I can only think of all the things I’d do differently. I’m sure that some time from now it’ll be a story to laugh about then be proud of my progress, but I’m just not there yet.”
Kale was about halfway through building the chair when Chris asked if they’d sit down with him and Megan to chat. Kale was nervous.
“He brought me back to his office and he had a book in his hands that he said was a really profound book for him.”
“He shared with me that it’s always been his dream to work with an apprentice and if I was interested, he had this idea about us both journaling from our perspectives during this process. I said, ‘Absolutely.’ It was so serendipitous. I go from working in a bakery and now there’s a possibility I get to learn from this master?”
By the time Kale finished the chair Chris had brought up the idea of a part-time position, working with him. By this point Kale had been looking for another job – they needed a full-time job. So Chris came up with a plan: They would work full-time at LAP, splitting their hours between working on editorial duties and helping with fulfilling orders.
“I think all of it was unexpected for the both of us,” Kale says. “I think we’re navigating it together.”
Kale’s been journaling, as Chris asked.
“Now that I’m working here, everything once again is a new experience,” Kale says. “I have so many thoughts about it all, so journaling has been helpful for processing.”
They are also studying the work of others.
“I’m learning about different styles and techniques,” Kale says. “It can feel a little overwhelming at times. I don’t yet feel ready to create my own designs. So as of now, to make myself feel less overwhelmed, I’m learning from the masters. I’m learning from Chris’s designs. I’ve been looking at Chris Williams’s work and of course John Brown, all the people I know Chris looks up to and has been inspired by. I’m taking note of the masters, taking what resonates and leaving the rest.”
These days Kale’s also been working on a research project for a workbench video, editing videos for the blog, and woodworking, which is considered part of the job (and really fun, they say, because it doesn’t feel like work). Megan is teaching Kale how to cut dovetails, and they’re finishing up a tool chest. Kale is also working on a second chair.
When not at LAP Kale loves spending time in nature.
“It’s my daydreaming time,” Kale says. Kale’s partner, Jordan, has two dogs and they like to take them out to explore several parks a week. Drawing will always be a hobby and lately, Kale’s been drawing a lot of chairs.
Portrait practice by Kale.
“I am wildly happy,” Kale says. “It’s been hard to articulate because I’m fighting the part of my brain that says this is too good to be true. I’m still in this headspace where I feel the need to prove to Chris that he made the right decision. I have a fair amount of imposter syndrome coming into this field, for good reason. Especially working with Chris and Megan, I mean, what teachers. I couldn’t ask for better role models. I’m allowing myself to be a student again and I’m just so wildly grateful to have been granted this opportunity.”
