Hey, if you’d like to read the latest on the Crucible lump hammer, check out this brief blog entry.
— Christopher Schwarz
Category: Uncategorized
The Irish ‘Fool’s Chair’
There are lots of vernacular stick chairs styles out there if you do a little digging. Researcher Suzanne Ellison has been turning over a lot of rocks lately to find stick chairs in countries such as Sweden, Germany and Italy.
Today she sent over a load of images of Irish chairs, and this one stuck in my head. It’s a fairly common form and common paint scheme. Interestingly, these chairs were referred to as “fool’s chairs,” “famine chairs” or “hedge chairs.” Sometimes this form is called a “Gibson chair.”
I need to do a lot more digging to learn about the names of the chairs. I couldn’t find much on the origin of “fool’s chair,” except for a reference in “A Dictionary of English Phrases: Phraseological Allusions, Catchwords” (1922). That book defined “fool’s chair” as:
A chair with a leg missing, on which fools attempt to sit and consequently fall.
The origin of the name “famine chair” is said to relate to the Great Famine in Ireland (1845-1852), during which the great poverty of the country resulted in furniture that was made by tenant farmers that was on the crude side.
I haven’t been able to dig up much on why it would be called a “Gibson chair.” So more research is ahead.
While this particular chair doesn’t grab me as much as some Welsh designs, it does have its charms. I particularly like the front-on view and the dramatic lean to the back sticks.
— Christopher Schwarz
A Meaty Mystery for Prof. Bespokus
Lately someone anonymous has been sending artisanal cured meats – charcuterie – to the Lost Art Press storefront. Addressed to “Professor Bespokus,” each small package has contained two lovely sausages but no indicator as to who sent them.
The meats aren’t poisonous (I had Megan and Brendan try them out, and they suffered no ill effects). And the meaty delights have become an important part of our lunchtime ritual at the shop.
So whoever you are, oh meat patron, we thank you.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. And if you don’t get the “Professor Bespokus” joke, read this blog entry and it should make (some) sense.
2 Classes in Munich this October
I’m teaching two courses in Munich this October at the new and expanded workshop for Dictum GmbH.
Today I visited the new workshop, and it is impressive. Located by the Munich Ostbanhof (east train station), the new facilities are flooded with natural light and have beautiful new German workbenches. And downstairs is Dictum’s Munich store and a huge array of choices for food, culture and lodging.
The classes are taught in English (with German expletives). If you are interested in handwork or getting started in chairmaking, here are the details:
Staked Furniture: 3-legged Stool
Oct. 8-9, 2018
I taught this class for the first time this summer, and it is a fun couple of days. In the class I explain how to do compound-angle joinery without math or even numbers. Plus, all the chairmaking techniques I have compiled and refined during my time as a chairmaker. If you do flat work and right-angle projects, this class will open up a new world for you.
Build a Sawbench
Oct. 10-12, 2018
This three-day class is great for new woodworkers. The pace is relaxed, and we get to explore all sorts of odd corners of the craft. The last time I taught this class, we also made winding sticks, straightedges and other useful workshop appliances.
Munich is a great city – very easy for international travelers to get to and navigate.
Some of you might be wondering if this new round of classes at Dictum indicates I might teach more in the coming months and years. And the answer is: kinda. I’ve resolved to keep a limited teaching schedule until my youngest daughter has graduated so that I can be a good father.
After her graduation in May 2019 I hope to teach about four weeks a year. (Teaching 18 classes in a year turned out to be a bad idea for my psyche.) I’ll probably teach a couple short courses at our storefront and maybe a week-long course somewhere else (if anyone will have me).
— Christopher Schwarz
About the ‘Love Potion’ in ‘Ingenious Mechanicks’
In our research for “Ingenious Mechanicks,” we translated parts of a codex from 1505 that was written and illustrated by Martin Löffelholz. In it, Löffelholz showed what are likely the first modern workbenches with a tail vise and face vise.
During the translation, we also encountered a recipe for what we thought was a love potion.
As “Ingenious Mechanicks” is a woodworking book, and I have no need for a love potion (I’m married), translator Görge Jonuschat and I skipped the love potion section.
Until now.
For my birthday, Görge set out to translate the section and perhaps concoct the potion. But what he found was the “love potion” wasn’t exactly about making someone fall in love with you. Here is his translated text from page 73 of the codex:
If someone fell in love (or else) with you
Which comes unwanted or something else,
Then from a ditch through which corpses are carried
To their grave
Take from it one stone, chip off a piece the size of a hazel;
Where a crosspiece spans this creek or water,
Cut a little splinter
Then take moss from a wayside shrine.
More accurately arrange a bit of everything,
Then add consecrated salt,
Place in a neat cloth,
Dip into Holy Water,
Hang it on that someone’s neck,
And it will pass, which is certain.
If you’re so inclined, pay heed to remain chaste –
If that is your will, etc.
There are a number of ways to read this passage, and I leave that interpretation to you. However, it’s clear that this potion would not be the answer to your awkward high school dreams.
— Christopher Schwarz