My daughter Emalyn, cool as always, using the spring pole lathe at Old Salem.
I just posted my first post at my new blog Eclectic Mechanicals. After all this time I finally decided to give it a go. The blog will, of course, be focused on woodworking and a lot of what goes along with it thrown in for good measure. I feel it will be a journey for all involved.
And no, Mr. Schwarz has not run me off or anything like that. I will still be posting here on occasion as well. Sorry I could not get started off with some good gossip.
A two-page spread featuring four Trustworth Studios wallpaper patterns in English Arts & Crafts FurnitureAlthough 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.
A selection of covers, the best designed by Inga Soderberg, going back more than 20 yearsMerryDetail of paper on staircase wallDavid created this pattern, “Laborate et Amate” (the imperative “Work and Love!”) for his kitchen based on a set of Voysey tiles. The plaster moulding at the bottom is trompe l’oeil.
*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.