The Lost Art Press storefront in Covington, Ky., will be open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Saturday, March 10.
This weekend you’ll see the shop in full-production mode (which is our way of saying “excuse the mess.”) Brendan Gaffney is finishing up a gorgeous and extremely complex bookcase that involves a lot of interesting techniques, including recording and veneering.
Megan Fitzpatrick is just finishing up a Dutch tool chest for a customer – it’s being painted right now. And I’m deep into two full-blown Anarchist’s Tool Chests for customers. These both use Peter Ross hardware. Come check out the crab lock Peter makes. It is stunning.
And we’ll be here to answer any woodworking questions you might have. Our address is 837 Willard St., Covington, KY 41011.
Some Food Options to Consider If you are looking for a bite to eat, Lil’s Bagels has opened a walk-up window, which is a short walk from our storefront, on Greenup Street. Great bagels – the best in the city – and bagel sandwiches.
For lunch, take a walk over to Wunderbar, which has dang good German food and fantastic pretzels and beer cheese. Or try Guiterrez Deli (right across the street from Wunderbar). Guiterrez is a Mexican grocery that will make you an outstanding burrito.
Discover a bit more about Jögge Sundqvist, author of “Slöjd in Wood,” in this short film that is part of the current CraftBOWL exhibition (which closes April 8, 2018) at the American Swedish Institute in Minneapolis.
In it, s u r o l l e (Jögge’s artistic alter-ego) shares his deeply intertwined philosophies on life and slöjd.
You can now place a pre-publication order for Jögge Sundqvist’s “Slöjd in Wood” in the store. The price is $37, which includes domestic shipping.
The book is scheduled to ship in early April 2018. We don’t know which retailers will opt to carry the book (we hope all of them will), but we will update you here when we have more information.
Note that on this book, a translation, we do not have electronic rights (so we cannot offer a PDF version).
What’s it About? “Slöjd in its pure self-sufficient use is characterized by an individual using simple tools with great skill, a deep knowledge of raw materials, and the ability to solve functional problems….
“Slöjd is about quality – the best and most durable choices of material and joinery to stand up to the wear and tear of everyday use but still be pleasing to the eye….
“Because slöjd is inherently sustainable, it feels genuine and authentic. In an increasingly complex and global society, it is important for an individual to experience an integrated work process from raw material to finished product.”
— Jögge Sunqvist
Jögge teaches you how to live and work in that tradition, using nature’s bounty and a small kit of tools. You’ll learn how to wield an axe and a small set of knives (and the occasional drawknife if you like) to make your own spoons, ladles, spatulas, bowls, butter knives, shrink boxes, cabinet knobs, walking sticks, cutting boards, clothes racks, stools and more. You’ll also discover what wood species are best for every type of slöjd object and why (updated to include species common to North America), and how to rive wood and dry it properly. A special “Knife Grips” section includes detailed instructions and illustrations to help you learn the various grips needed for safe, efficient and fun slöjd work.
Jögge Sundqvist (who is also known by his artistic alter-ego, surolle) practices the
traditional art of slöjd, carefully selecting materials from the forest then
transforming them with a simple set of tools. He makes utensils, painted furniture
and cabinets, as well as sculptures, in the long tradition of the Västerbotten
region of Sweden. He learned the craft from his father, Wille Sundqvist, and
Jögge now teaches slöjd workshops in Europe and the United States. His artwork
is found in numerous museums and public installations.
“Slöjd in Wood” was designed to look as much as possible like the high-quality Swedish original, with full-color images on heavy, matte paper, a sewn binding that will last and a “paper over board” cover – that is, the image is printed on the heavy hardboard covers. It is 116 pages, and, like all Lost Art Press books, produced and printed entirely in the United States.
Note: This article is part of an ongoing series about the details of tool chest construction.
When building a tool chest, it’s tempting to get to the dovetailing as soon as possible. However, the work you do before the dovetailing is more important in the long run. (Even crappy dovetails hold nicely after hundreds of years.) And so I’m afraid we’re going to talk about a topic that bores people to tears: stock preparation.
Stock Selection I use white pine for tool chests whenever possible. It’s lightweight, easy to work and plenty strong. My second choice is poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera), which is dirt cheap here in Kentucky. Poplar is easy to work and available in wide widths. The major downside to poplar is its smell. Some people find its odor to be as pleasing as dog poo. It doesn’t bother me.
Crosscut in the Rough After I purchase my stock, I immediately crosscut it to length while it’s still rough and sticker it for a couple weeks in the driest area of my shop. I check the moisture content with a meter to ensure I don’t encounter any surprises. Boards move the most while losing their last few bits of moisture as they reach equilibrium. So let them do this while in the rough.
Making Panels Tool chests are painted, so you don’t have to fuss over the grain patterns in the panels. But you should fuss over the grain direction. After jointing and planing the boards to size, orient the boards in each panel so the grain direction runs the same way.
Also, and I know this will make people howl, orient the heart side of the boards so they will face the outside of the tool chest. Doing this will ensure the corners of your tool chest will stay as tight as possible. That’s because when boards warp, the bark side becomes concave and the heart side becomes convex. So putting the heart side facing out will force the corners of your carcase together. If the bark side faces out there is a danger that the corners will open.
This is a fine detail because the carcase is enclosed by dovetailed skirting. But you might as well do it right.
The heart side of all your boards should face out. I know this is blasphemy among modern woodworkers.
Squaring and Planing After your panels are glued up, square them up. Don’t trust your machines to do this. Check the ends with a reliable framing square and tweak the panels with a handplane. Then remove all the machine marks on the boards’ faces with a handplane. Do this before dovetailing.
If you handplane your panels after dovetailing, you can create gaps in your joints. You can plane the tailboards without creating gaps, but planing the pinboards after the joints are cut is asking for trouble.
With your panels square and clean, you are ready to cut dovetails. Details on that operation next.
We don’t know much about the “Schwarz” side of my family, such as when exactly they came to the United States or where they emigrated from.
There are family stories that involve the Ukraine. Plus a curious tale about a small cottage in Switzerland that was emblazoned with the family name.
At some point when I was a kid, we got a wooden sign (it might have been a gift) with our name carved into it in a pseudo blackletter font. That sign followed my father most of his adult life, from his shop at our farm in Hackett, Ark., to his shop in Fort Smith, Ark., and finally to his home in Charleston, S.C.
Last Christmas, my dad gave that wooden sign to me as a Christmas gift, and its meaning was not lost on me. He knew his battle with prostate cancer was nearing an end. And this slab of wood is pretty much our family baton.
Last Tuesday, my sister Robin called to say our dad had entered hospice. When I got the call I was driving to my workshop with a replacement part for a woodworking machine. The rest of the day was a blur, but I remember doing one thing: I put our family sign at the top of the bookcase in the workbench room where everyone could see it.
I headed to Charleston the next morning. During his final day alive, my dad sang along with my sisters to all the easy-listening songs from the 1970s that we loved. John Denver. The Carpenters. Jim Croce. Cat Stevens. Crosby, Stills & Nash. Even some Olivia Newton-John.
About 3 a.m. on Feb. 26 his breathing began to slow dramatically. And within the hour he was gone. He died at 3:52 a.m. and it was as peaceful a passing as I have ever witnessed – thanks in large part to the living saints at Lutheran Hospice.
Though we lost him too soon, his death was a relief in many ways. Diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2003, my father spent a good deal of his time fighting the disease. And the last couple years were particularly painful.
Since July, my sisters and I were with him almost nonstop. During one of my visits, he asked to have his DNA tested so he could perhaps learn something additional about where the Schwarzes came from.
The DNA results were odd. Despite my father’s last name and the way he was raised, he was not ethnically German. He was about 27 percent English with the rest of his genes scattered throughout Western and Eastern Europe. According to his DNA, his Schwarz ancestors likely immigrated to the United States in the 18th century. This does not line up with the little we know of the Schwarz family.
Our family’s reaction: Oh well.
Last week while we were in the middle of all this stuff, my sisters and I had dinner with my dad’s brother and cousins. I informed them of this genetic news. We had just received our drinks, and usually we all raise our glasses and say “Prost!” I’ve been doing this since I could lift a sippy cup with apple juice.
And so we said “Prost!” in honor of my father. And then my uncle Ron – my father’s brother – added: “Tolly ho!”
So my family remains a mystery. The only thing I have that seems a constant across the generations is the wooden sign hanging up in my shop now.
I don’t know who the Schwarzes are, but whoever they are – scoundrels, peasants or refugees – I am one of them. And I have a sign to prove it.
