Although my paternal grandfather, Morris Hiller, died before I was born, my father has gone a long way toward impressing on me the kind of man his dad was. His motto: “Beware of unappreciative people.” I will never forget being reprimanded at a B&B in Scotland circa 1972 for not saying “thank you” loudly enough for the waiter who brought my porridge to hear. Lesson learned.
I did my best to thank everyone who helped with research, pre-publication feedback, photographs and other materials for English Arts & Crafts Furniture in a long list of acknowledgements at the back of the book. Aside from editors Megan Fitzpatrick and Scott Francis and book designer Linda Watts, the person who arguably made the biggest impression on how the book appears is David Berman of Trustworth Studios, who provided the Voysey-pattern wallpaper on the cover that was also used for endpapers. I consider David a mad genius and have written about him elsewhere. It came as no surprise when Fine Woodworking’s Ben Strano told me that he and his colleagues were making a video about David as an online extra related to my project article in FWW#270 that incorporates a piece of Trustworth’s “Hemlock” wallpaper.
But as I thought about this, I realized there’s someone else I should credit in this regard: Patricia Poore, longtime editor of the magazines where David’s work first came to my notice. Had it not been for her work, I would likely never have come across David, his fabulous 1910 shingle-style house (which merits the adjective “fabulous” largely thanks to his painstaking and delightful restoration), his adorable dog, Merry, nor his eye-popping period kitchen (stay tuned for a sneak peek, coming soon; his kitchen will be featured in the book I’m writing for Lost Art Press). David has advertised his wallpapers for many years in Old-House Journal, Arts & Crafts Homes and the Revival, and Old-House Interiors*. A staunch preservationist with an impressive portfolio of her own restorations, Patricia continues to publish content that’s inspiring, informative, and thought provoking.
*Although Old-House Interiors is no longer a stand-alone publication, much of its content has been incorporated into Old-House Journal. Arts & Crafts Homes and the Revival is now published online with a high-quality annual print publication, the first issue of which is scheduled for this October.
At the time I stopped teaching in 2015 I was booking 18 class a year. It was a stupid schedule. I quite enjoyed the travel and learning from the students. But my personal work – my writing, designing and building – suffered.
Starting in November I’m returning to a limited teaching schedule – four classes in a year and no more. I am extremely excited (yes, I used an adverb there) to share the techniques and designs I’ve developed during this hiatus.
These classes will be different as I’ll be teaching little or no casework or workbenches (unless the French Oak Roubo Project III comes calling). It will be all staked furniture and chairs.
My first class will be Nov. 3-4, 2018, at our storefront in Covington, Ky., where I will teach the Staked High Stool. This project is a great introduction to chairmaking and working with compound angles. And everyone leaves with a finished stool. You’ll be able to finish your stool with “shou sugi ban,” though we’ll also teach spray finishing of shellac and some hand-applied finishes.
Registration for this class will open next week. We’ll have full details on all the storefront classes for the remainder of 2018 posted on Monday.
I hope you’ll consider joining us. The classes are small – six students maximum. The workshop is a great place to work with excellent benches and loads of natural light. And Covington, Ky., is a fun place to stay and eat.
Whenever I finish an important project, I feel I should give a cheesy “acceptance speech” like you see for awards programs (“I’d like to thank all the world’s mentally defective sea turtles…”). Though my speech (said quietly to myself) always thanks certain tools and fellow woodworkers.
Were I a wanker, I would post photos of my latest chair and say things like: Check my new design, brh. Then a series of acronyms – FISKET and YAMLO. Then the hashtags – #gravycouncil #billyraycoochierash #sponsored.
But that’s not fair. Every piece of furniture is the culmination of the designer’s experiences, influences and previous work. We’re just the blender that takes these ingredients and frapps the frothy result. And so I try to acknowledge these influences whenever possible.
For this chair, the most obvious inspiration is the later chairs of John Brown, author of “Welsh Stick Chairs.” In learning more about the life of John Brown, I discovered Christopher Williams, who worked closely with Brown on these chairs to refine and lighten the historical examples. (We are bringing Chris back in 2019 for at least one – maybe two – more incredible classes on building his chair.)
Chris’s chairs are very dramatic (and I say that in the best possible way). I don’t have the stones to use the rake and splay he does on his legs. So I started with an 18th- or 19th-century Welsh chair shown in a Shire booklet on Welsh furniture that was written by Richard Bebb.
Here’s where some of the other elements of the chair come from. The raised spindle deck is a design feature I’ve been playing with for a year or more. I developed it out of frustration, really. I have always tried to get a crazy-crisp gutter between the spindle deck and the seat. And I’ve never managed to make myself happy. So by raising the spindle deck, I get that sharp shadow line I want.
The armbow is a typical three-piece bow. On historical chairs, the thicker section usually has a decorative detail on its ends – a bead, ogee or some such. I decided to use a 30° bevel to repeat the bevel on the underside of the seat and the underside of the “hands” of the armbow. Nothing earth-shattering.
The “hands” of my armbow aren’t from any particular source that I am conscious of. Many Welsh chairs have rounded hands, something I wanted to avoid. But I wanted the hands to get wider so the armbow didn’t look static, like a steam-bent armbow. So I used a French curve to accelerate the radius on the armbow until the hands were wider. Then I used a French curve to add a slight arc on the front of the hand to tip my hat to the rounded hands of historical chairs.
I beveled the front of the underside of the hands at 30° so the sitter had something to do while listening to a relative drone.
The crest rail is smaller than I usually make – only 1-3/4” tall. I did this so that it will be easy for other people to make this crest if they don’t have access to thick stock or steam-bending equipment. This crest is cut easily from solid material. The front of the crest is – surprise – a 30° bevel, repeating the other bevels on the chair.
The finish – black over red milk paint – is a process developed by Peter Galbert.
I am sure that there are other influences running through this design that I’m not conscious of. But I am told we have to cut for a commercial break.
The past few years I have been using a little battery powered pencil sharpener. There, I came clean; the skeleton is out of the closet.
I have been grilled by a few students about why someone who teaches hand tool woodworking uses an electric pencil sharpener. When I am teaching at The Woodwright’s School, it drives poor Roy nuts.
So why do I torture Roy and aggravate the purists with this thing? The sharpener puts a perfect point on a pencil in about half a second. I can also keep it in the tool tray of the workbench within arms reach. Being so close and quick I can keep a perfect, sharp pencil at all times with almost no effort. This makes my layouts faster and more accurate.
Sometimes a customer asks us to recommend a good place to begin when buying our books.
It’s a question we take seriously. Our books are not cheap, they take time to read and each represents years (sometimes decades) of work to get to press. So recommending one of our 33 books is a bit like matchmaking.
Mentally, I arrange our books into a few “tracks” or “traditions.” Today, I’d like to discuss the United Kingdom tradition.
Joseph Moxon’s ‘The Art of Joinery’ “Mechanick Exercises” by Joseph Moxon was the first English-language book on woodworking. We reprinted his section on joinery, called “The Art of Joinery,” and it was Lost Art Press’ first title in 2007.
Moxon’s 17th-century language is a little stilted for modern ears, so I offer commentary on the text and try to explain some of the areas that are confusing. What I love about Moxon is that not much has changed in hand-tool woodworking in more than three centuries. The tools and processes are similar to what I do at the bench every day.
And so the details covered in Moxon are as relevant to me today as when Moxon printed them. Of course, you can get this sort of information from other sources, but understanding the primary source is the best way to separate good technique from Internet self-fondling.
While this was our first book, it’s not necessarily the first Lost Art Press book I’d buy from the U.K. tradition. That book would be Robert Wearing’s “The Essential Woodworker.”
Robert Wearing’s ‘The Essential Woodworker’ We had to fight like hell to get “The Essential Woodworker” back in print. Though the author was supportive, his previous publishing company was as pleasant as a bag of hemorrhoids. The company destroyed the original files and photos (or said they had been destroyed) and pretty much resisted us at every turn – even though the company had let the book lapse years before.
So we rebuilt the book from scratch. We typed in every damn word and made revisions from Wearing. We rescanned the line drawings. We took new photos. The result is my favorite book for the beginning hand-tool woodworker.
“The Essential Woodworker” isn’t really about disconnected skills (sharpening, planing, mortising, dovetailing). Instead it connects all these disparate skills into a way that you can see how they are used together to design and build furniture. For many woodworkers, Wearing’s book puts all the puzzle pieces in order and makes it all “click.”
It did for me.
‘The Joiner & Cabinet Maker’ This almost-forgotten book from the early 1800s tells the story of Thomas, a young apprentice in a rural workshop. It is similar to “The Essential Woodworker” in that it provides a framework for learning the craft through three projects: a packing box, a school box and a chest of drawers. But what is different is that all this happens through a historical lens.
We took the original short book and printed in its entirety, but we also loaded it with historical context from Joel Moskowitz and a modern interpretation (from me). For me “The Joiner & Cabinet Maker” is for woodworkers who also love the History Channel. It will make you look at your shavings, your folding rule and your name stamp in a different and deeper way.
It will make you appreciate that you cannot spell “woodworking” without “working” and help you grasp why historical technique is sometimes different than what we do today.
And you will loathe Sam, the villain of the book.
Charles H. Hayward ‘The Woodworker, Vols. I to IV’ For me, our series of four books from Charles H. Hayward represent the most exhaustive look at the art of joinery in the United Kingdom’s tradition. Hayward, the editor of The Woodworker magazine for more than 30 years, wrote, built and illustrated almost every word of the monthly magazine during his tenure.
He was uniquely talented, thoughtful and skilled as a writer, editor, builder, illustrator and publisher.
We sorted through every issue of The Woodworker published during his editorship and, with the assistance of too many people to mention, we culled it all into these four volumes that cover tools, techniques, joinery, workshops and furniture design.
These books are a joy to read casually and are a reference for almost every hand-tool process I know of. These books are for beginners. They are for hard-bitten professionals. They are (and I rarely say this) something that I wish every woodworker would read.
Unlike some practitioners, Hayward wasn’t myopic. He was fascinated by alternative methods from other woodworkers and other cultures. You can even see his own opinion shift on several key items as he listened to his readers.
For a taste of some of Hayward’s genius, check out the table of contents and the free excerpts available here.
And Some Other Titles…. There are other books we have published that are part of the U.K. tradition that focus on narrower topics. “Doormaking & Window-making” explains just that – using the tools and processes common to the U.K. (and North America). “Campaign Furniture” explores an important form of British furniture that doesn’t get much attention. “Welsh Stick Chairs” is one of the most important books on chairmaking (it’s from Wales). And “Cut & Dried” spends a good deal of its pages explaining the woods common to the U.K. and how they are cut, dried and used.