We’ve had a couple people ask what tools they need to make the cherry tool chest built by Whitney Miller in “Make a Swedish Tool Chest” (available at introductory pricing of $35 until Aug. 26) So, below is a list of every tool Whitney picks up on camera. To those you could add a jointer, planer and table saw if you’re going to prep your own material with the aid of power tools – though you could also carefully choose 3/4″- or 7/8″-thick S4S stock at the lumberyard, and glue up panels from that, resulting in minimal prep.
Cutting or marking gauge (Whitney is using a Tite-Mark cutting gauge)
Dovetail template (Whitey is using a 1:4 Crucible Dovetail Template, which matches the angles on the paper template included in the video)
0.5 mm pencil (Whitney is using…several – any will do, but my current faves are Graphgear and Ohto)
Marking knife (Whitney is using a vintage Blue Spruce knife)
Dovetail saw (Whitney is using a Lie-Nielsen non-tapered DT saw)
Coping saw (Whitney is using a Knew Concepts 6-1/2″ saw with an aftermarket handle by Elkhorn Tools, which is no longer)
The coping saw blade is a Pégas 18tpi skip tooth blade (which cuts slowly but cleanly in this 7/8″-thick cherry; the 10 tpi blade would also work, though it would leave a more ragged cut)
Bevel-edge chisels (Whitney is using a 1/2″ Lie-Nielsen socket chisel)
Crosscut saw (Whitney is using Chris’s vintage Wheeler Madden & Clemson)
Mallet for dovetail chopping (Whitney is using a Blue Spruce 16-ou. round mallet)
Smooth plane (Whitney is using a Lie-Nielsen No. 3 in bronze)
12″ adjustable square (Whitney is using a Starrett)
24″ adjustable square – not strictly necessary (Whitney is using a Starrett)
Block plane (Whitney is using a Lie-Nielsen No. 60-1/2)
Jack plane (Whitney is using a vintage Stanley No. 5; I think it’s a Type 11…for the tool nerds among us)
Glue brush (Whitney is using a No. 2 Torrington glue brush. Along a Dixie cup that contains a few ounces of Piggly No Wiggly glue. For the drawers, we used Titebond Original PVA for its quicker setup time.)
Rectangular mallet (In my brief appearance to help knock the case together, I grabbed the Blue Spruce 24-ou. rectangular mallet)
Clamps (we used Bessey K-bodies, aka parallel-jaw clamps)
Paraffin wax (I believe the brand is Gulf)
Drill/driver (Whitney grabbed a 12-volt Milwaukee for light-duty needs, and a 20-volt DeWalt for heavier-duty needs )
Drill bits (we swear by HSS Lipped Imperial Brad-Point Drills from Lee Valley – so I assume Whitney used these)
Countersink (Ours are Insty-Bits)
Slot screwdriver (Whitney used a Grace Gunsmith-style Slot Screwdriver)
16-ounce hammer (Whitney is using a vintage Plumb “Autograph”)
Rabbet plane (Whitney is using a Veritas Skew Rabbet plane, which technically is a moving fillister plane)
6″ adjustable square (Whitney is using a Starrett)
Plough plane (Whitney is using a vintage Record No. 043)
Small router plane (Whitney is using a Lie-Nielsen No. 271 open mouth)
Centering punch, not strictly necessary…but awfully fun to use (Whitney is using a Starrett No. 819 Automatic Center Punch)
A pocketnife and needle-nose pliers (while installing the traditional ring pulls – I have no idea what brands)
Also shown throughout are a Crucible Lump Hammer, Crucible Holdfasts and a Benchcrafted Moxon Vise. The bench is Christopher’s “Anarchist’s Workbench.”
I think I got them all – if I missed any, my apologies (and I’m sure someone will let me know).
In this book, Cianci (aka The Saw Wright) teaches you the fundamentals of maintaining backsaws and handsaws: how to file and joint your saws with the correct rake, fleam and pitch to keep them cutting sharp. You’ll also learn how to deal with saw teeth that are in good shape but dull, plus how to successfully doctor teeth that have been abused.
Plus, Matt shows you how to identify and restore vintage saws (i.e. is that yard sale box lot a good buy?) – and basic sawsmithing – how to hammer out a bent blade, and how to re-set the spine on a backsaw.
Do you remember sitting in junior high geometry class and trying your best to stay awake? Me too.
While we don’t have to talk about the Pythagorean theorem in this chapter, it is important to understand the basic shapes and angles related to saw teeth. We’ll also cover basic terminology. Grab your highlighter.
Hand Saw Anatomy Western-style hand saws come in many forms, but the two most common to woodworking are the handsaw and the backsaw. A hand saw (two separate words) refers to any saw worked by hand power. This includes large two-person timber saws for felling and bucking trees to pit saws for sawing boards from a log, and even tiny keyhole saws and dovetail saws for fine joinery with all types in between. Hand saws can have a thin, narrow blade tensioned in a wood or metal frame, or the blade can be unrestrained and of sufficient gauge to remain stiff and resist buckling in use. A handsaw (one word) is a particular form of hand saw that includes a wooden handle with closed grip on one end of an unrestrained blade, which is used for making straight, dimensioning cuts in boards of all kinds. Handsaws are identified in size by the length of the toothed edge of their blade, which can range from 12″ to 30″. The most common size is 26″, which is the prototypical carpenter’s saw.
A backsaw is a hand saw with a thinner blade and an applied metal rib along its top edge to provide stiffness in use. It has an open- or closed-grip handle ,and is used for making precise joinery or fine dimensioning cuts in wooden components of all kinds. Backsaws are also identified by the length of the toothed edge of their blade and typically range in size from 6″ to 20″ , with 12″ being the most common. A special variety of backsaws, called miter box saws, are designed to be used in manufactured miter boxes, and can be up to 30″ in length.
Backsaws: from top to bottom, a 10″ Disston No. 68 gent’s saw, my reproduction of an unmarked 18th-century dovetail saw, a 12″ backsaw of my own design, and a 14″ Disston No. 4.
There is common language used to identify the parts of both handsaws and backsaws that you should understand before you learn about saw teeth. The thin steel body of the saw that contains the teeth is referred to as the blade. The toothed edge of the blade is called the toothline, and the opposite edge is called the back. The other major component of a handsaw or backsaw is the handle, which is self explanatory and usually made of wood. The two ends of the toothed blade are distinct. The end with the handle is called the heel; the opposite end is called the toe. Unique to backsaws is the metal reinforcing rib, called the back, along the top edge of the blade. These can be made of iron, steel or brass.
Rip teeth (left) and crosscut teeth (right).
Parts of Teeth The teeth of Western saws are shaped like triangles, and each part of these teeth have a specific name and function. Understanding these elements is the first step in learning to sharpen your saws. The point is the acute apex of the tooth where the wood fibers are first cut. Depending on how you file a particular saw, these points can have different geometric distinctions and cut wood in different ways. The face of the tooth is the side of the triangle that first contacts the work when the saw is in use. Because Western-style saws cut on the push stroke, these faces are always on the toe side of the toothline. Logically, then, the opposing side of the tooth is called the back. The site where the back and face meet is called the gullet.
Backsaw anatomy.
Handsaw anatomy.
In use, all four parts of the tooth work together to cut a kerf into a piece of wood. The kerf is the empty space created by the saw as it cuts. Here’s how it happens:
The acute point of each tooth is pushed down into the wood as the saw is thrust forward. As the point penetrates the surface of the wood it cuts and lifts up a tiny chip of wood.
This chip then slides up the face of the tooth as the saw moves forward.
As the chip reaches the gullet it breaks apart and collects with other chips in the gullet.
As the tooth exits the work on the backside of the kerf, the chips of wood fall out of the gullets. The saw is drawn back and the process repeats.
For conceptual purposes, it has long been suggested that the cutting action of saw teeth is similar to the cutting action of many other edge tools, like chisels and knives. And while this is true for an individual saw tooth, it does not give the full picture. Planes, chisels, knives, axes and all other edge tools possess a single cutting edge, whereas a typical handsaw can have more than 200. For a saw to cut well, each of these teeth must not only be sharp, but also must be uniform and harmonized with all neighboring teeth. Uniformity in partnership with sharpness is the goal for saw teeth. This is why saw sharpening can be so challenging for even the most experienced woodworkers. The efficient and accurate function of the saw is not solely dependent on the quality and geometry of a single edge, but on the quality and uniformity of many edges in relation to each other.
Now that we have defined the parts of a saw’s teeth and how they cut in general, let’s look more closely at how changing the size, shape and geometry of the teeth can make them better suited to different kinds of work.
Saw tooth anatomy.
Tooth Spacing Tooth spacing determines the size of a saw’s teeth and is measured by the number of teeth a saw has within one linear inch. There are actually two different but often confused units of measurement common to hand saws for tooth spacing, and they are points per inch (ppi) and teeth per inch (tpi). They are, in fact, not the same unit. On handsaws, tooth spacing was traditionally stamped onto the heel of the saw on the medallion side of the blade right below the handle. Backsaws had no such marking.
Points per inch (ppi) vs. teeth per inch (tpi). You wouldn’t say yards when you meant meters, would you?
To identify the ppi tooth spacing of any saw, take a rule and place it on the toothline of the saw. Line up the 1″ mark on the rule with one of the tooth points at the heel of the saw. Begin to count the number of tooth points starting with the point aligned with the 1″ mark and progressing up to and including the point under the 2″ mark. This count is the ppi tooth spacing of the saw.
To measure the tpi tooth spacing of a saw use the same rule, but this time line up the 1″ mark with the gullet of a tooth at the heel. Now count the number of full saw teeth (gullet, back, point and face) from one gullet to the next until you reach the gullet under the 2″ mark. This count is the tpi spacing of the saw. If you completed this task correctly, you should arrive at a tpi spacing that is one less than your ppi measurement. This means that a points-per-inch measurement of a saw will always be one greater than the teeth-per-inch unit. Represented in an equation: ppi = tpi +1. So, a 6 ppi saw is not the same as a 6 tpi saw. A 6 ppi saw is equal to a 5 tpi saw, and a 6 tpi saw is in fact equal to a 7 ppi saw. Got it? Good. Of note, I only use ppi when describing tooth spacing.
This will be on the test: Tooth size is determined by the distance between the points.
If you followed the steps above to identify a particular saw’s tooth spacing, and you are finding that the points (if you are using ppi) or the gullets (if you are using tpi) are not lining up with the exact inch marks on your rule there could be a couple of reasons why. Historically, full-size handsaws were commonly available in half-point increments in coarser sizes. So that means that 6-1/2, 5-1/2, 4-1/2 and 3-1/2 ppi saws are commonly found. In fact, 5-1/2-point ripsaws are about as common as any other ripsaw spacing in the wild. A discrepancy in measurement could also mean that your saw has morphed over years of careless filing into an odd spacing. This is especially common on backsaws with very small teeth that are easy to misfile. For handsaws, look for the heel stamp (noted above) to confirm the original spacing. Also, always measure teeth at the heel of a handsaw because ripsaws were commonly toothed one point finer at their toe to allow for easier starting of the cut. This means that a 6-point ripsaw has 6 ppi spacing at its heel and 7 ppi at its toe.
So why are these distinctions about tooth spacing so important? Because more than any other element, tooth spacing affects how a saw will cut, and unlike the other geometric features of saw teeth we will discuss later in this chapter, tooth spacing is not typically changed once it is established. Tooth spacing determines how large or small the teeth are on a saw, which in turn determines how large or small a bite of wood each tooth will take. This is due to the distance from one tooth to the next and the resultant gullet volume the teeth create. In use, a saw tooth will continue cutting chips of wood as long as its point is able to reach the bottom of the kerf. Once the gullet in front of a point fills with chips, it is overcome and can no longer effectively bite into the wood. So a saw with a greater amount of space between each tooth point, and hence a greater chip capacity in its gullet, can go on cutting and creating chips longer than a relatively smaller tooth. But this speed comes at a cost. Larger teeth may cut faster, but they leave a rougher surface on the wood and are not as inclined to the precise work of joinery. Conversely, fine-toothed saws for joinery sacrifice speed, but they allow a smooth, even stroke, whose tiny teeth gently nibble away at the wood to cut a finer line.
fig. 2.2.22. The human form resides just beneath the surface.
Below is a short excerpt (a sidebar) from “By Hand & Eye,” the first artisan geometry book by George Walker and Jim Tolpin.
In “By Hand & Eye,” the authors show how much of the world is governed by simple proportions, noting how ratios such as 1:2; 3:5 and 4:5 were ubiquitous in the designs of pre-industrial artisans. And the tool that helps us explore this world, then as now, are dividers.
One key to good design is to master these basic “notes” – much like learning to sing “do, re, mi.” How to do this is the subject of the first three-quarters of the book. It offers exercises, examples and encouragement in opening your inner eye, propping it up with toothpicks and learning the simple geometry that will help you improve your design.
Critics point out that modern builders and architects can fall into a malady called the Greek Temple disease: slapping together classical elements from antiquity to somehow capture a sense of power and integrity. Of course, they do so without a clue about where these qualities came from, and how they came to be imbued in buildings from antiquity. It’s an easy conclusion to make if we focus on the surface without considering there might be something deeper. It’s true that many of our revered civic buildings often were modeled after temples from antiquity. Historical design literature emphasized the perfection found in the Greek and Roman classic orders.
fig. 2.2.23. Because classic orders are anthropomorphized forms, it was even thought that an interior with multiple layers of objects based on the orders was filled with human forms.
Yet the tradition reveals something deeper than a fascination with carved stone columns. To the Greeks, the classic order was the embodiment of the human form, but also of the building itself. Sweep them away and the roof collapses. The Romans extended the idea that the orders embodied the human form, yet applied new materials: concrete and brick. The result was that walls could support a building without requiring the orders for structural integrity. Yet they still used the classic orders to organize the façade, even though columns often had little or no structural role. They began to shadow the orders using shallow representations, sinking pilasters and half-columns into a wall to suggest the order. Later, designers completely eliminated columns or pilasters but continued to weave the proportional sequences to organize a façade. An exterior or interior wall could be divided into beginning, middle and ending using mouldings and paneling to echo an invisible classic order. Not just walls, but just as the order has internal elements that repeat the beginning, middle and ending, other elements in an interior – windows, fireplaces, furniture, candle stands, lamps – all could shadow the classic orders. Because the orders embody the human form, designers were in essence filling their homes with a host of human figures large and small.
p.s. We’re working right now on a new artisan geometry book from George Walker and Jim Tolpin, “Good Eye, Skilled Hands,” that we hope will be out later this year. In it, they explore the practical applications of lessons found in historic furniture forms.
Students from our first scholarship class with The Chairmaker’s Toolbox.
This fall, Megan and I are each teaching scholarship classes for The Chairmaker’s Toolbox, which offers free training for people who have been historically excluded from the trade.
I’m teaching a stick chair class Sept. 16-20. And Megan is teaching a Dutch tool chest class Oct. 11-13. Megan and I both volunteer our time and the workshop here for the classes. We also cover the students’ materials, plus breakfast and lunch during the class.
For that last few years, readers have asked to donate to help cover the materials and the food for these scholarship classes. If you would like to help out, you can send a donation via this link. Any amount helps. (Please note a donation is not tax deductible. We are not a charity or nonprofit.)
If we collect more money than we need, every penny gets donated to The Chairmaker’s Toolbox to help fund its expenses. We do not make any money off these classes.
Thanks to everyone who has donated in the past. Many of our students from these classes have gone on to teach chairmaking to others or have launched their own businesses. (In other words, it’s working!)
Here’s the link again (because they tell me we are supposed to do that).
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Don’t bother leaving a comment that craps on the program or us. No one will ever see it. At Lost Art Press, we help anyone who wants to enter the craft. We teach scholarship classes (and donate money) for need-based students, students who have been historically excluded and those who serve (such as our military). Don’t get ugly about something beautiful.
Saint Jerome in His Study, by Colantonio, c.1445-1446, from the collection of Museo di Capodimonte, Napoli.
Scholars, translators, transcribers and writers have always needed to have multiple books and other resources within easy reach. Illustrated manuscripts give us a good look at how medieval scribes stored and arranged their often large and hefty books.
In the image above, Saint Jerome, identified by the halo, red galero and the lion with a thorn in its paw, is viewed in his study. The shelf above his desk, and the large open shelves surrounding his desk, are cluttered with books as Jerome works on translating the Bible into Latin. The nails on the side of the desk reveal it is of boarded construction, while joinery on the small chest (with Jerome’s red galero atop) is frame and panel.
An image drawn and painted over 700 years earlier gives us a different arrangement.
Codex Amiatinus or Codex Jarrow, completed before 716 in Northumbria, England. Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, MS Amiatino 1.
The Prophet Ezra, a scribe and priest, is illustrated in the Codex Aniatinus, the earliest and most accurate copy of Saint Jerome’s translation of the Latin Bible. He sits in front of a cupboard with a pediment and frame-and-panel double doors. The left-side door has an astragal fashioned into the shape of a column. The frame above and below the doors is carved (or painted) with decorative shapes and symbols. The cupboard resembles a temple, as is appropriate, for within, the shelves hold a Bible in nine bound volumes. Ezra works with his book propped on his lap and seems to have consigned his writing slope to be a footrest.
According to the Library of Congress this “illumination is among the oldest images in the Western world to show a bookcase and the bindings of books.” The codex is also huge. It has 1,030 folios and measures approximately 505 mm by 340 mm (19.9 in. x 13.4 in.) and weighs 34 kg (almost 75 lb.).
The codex was made in Northumbria, England, and was to be a gift to Pope Gregory. Ceolfrid, a Benedictine monk, was in Italy on his way to Rome when he died in 716 (hence the date of before 716). A further note is the codex was one of three copies of the Bible made in Northumbria, but the only copy to survive.
Why Were Books Stored Flat?
Titles of books written on the fore edge and foot edge of books.
Although many medieval books written on thick parchment or vellum and often bound in leather could possibly stand on end, titles were not put on the spine until the 16th century. There was also no standardization of book sizes. Some books were small enough to fit in one hand, while others were so large and heavy it took two people to lift one. As a result, books were placed flat, often with the spine turned inwards. The title might be handwritten on the fore edge or foot edge. Alternatively, the title could be written on the cover.
Boethius turns the pages of a book in Der Renner, last quarter of 15th century, Austria, Morgan Library, MS M. 763, f.195r.
Boethius, in his rather spare accommodations, allows us to see that all the books on his bookshelves have titles on the cover. The titles of the books on the lower shelf are “Musica” and “Arithmetrica.”
Roman de Troie (Romance of Troy), c.1340-1350 by Benoît de Sainte-Maure, Paris, BnF, MS Français 782, f.2v.
In this opening scene of the “Romance of Troy,” the manuscript’s author has imagined the moment when Cornelius Nepos, a Roman biographer, discovers the history of Troy as written by Dares the Phygian. This generous cupboard has sturdy shelves and – not bifold – but tri-fold doors and stands below a small vault that looks to be recessed into the wall. The vault is presumably for the most precious or controversial books.
The appearance of bifold doors in medieval manuscripts makes sense. Books were valuable and needed to be secured in cupboards and scholars and scribes worked in small and cramped spaces. The bifold door with its small footprint was the solution, in fact, it was a very old solution.
Bifold doors were found in ancient Egyptian tombs and have been found in Herculaneum.
Examples of bifold doors, both are dated 1st century CE and from Herculaneum. Top: Fresco of the Shoemakers, from The House of the Stags. Bottom: A small household shrine sealed and carbonized by pyroclastic covering, House of the Wooden Shrine.
The dimensions of the household shrine are 163 cm x 73 cm (64.2 in x 28.7 in). It has all the construction details one would expect in a full-sized cupboard. The Romans used metal for door hinges, as well as bone and ivory. The shrine hinges are an example of bone or ivory.
These types of doors are also described in the temple built by King Solomon in 1 Kings 6:31 and 33.
“For the entrance of the inner sanctuary he made doors of olive wood with five-sided jambs.”
“In the same way he made four-sided jambs of olive wood for the entrance to the main hall.”
A Roundabout Device for More Clunky Books
Left: Cornificia in a Flemish translation of “Le Livre de la Cité des Dames,” c.1475, Bruges, British Library, Add. MS 20698, f.70r. Right: Saint Proba reading at her desk, 1497, Italy, Bodleian Library, Douce 287, f.5v.
On the left, Cornificia, Roman poet and writer of epigrams is unhappy. She needs more books, but her desk is too small. The bookcase is almost full and the wall shelf holds only one measly book. Proba, on the right, also a poet, also has limited work space. She suggests a rotating book holder might be the solution.
“Somnium Scipionis with Macrobius’ Commentary,” 1383, Bologna, Bodleian Library, Canon. Class. Lat. 257, f.002r.
Marcus Tullius Macrobius takes a short break from his commentary on Cicero’s “The Dream of Scipio” to agree with Proba. He suggests a book carousel will double your poetic output.
The book carousel was, and still is, an efficient tool on which to prop, and refer to, multiple open books. It can be a desktop tool and has also been configured as a stand-alone piece.
Left: Saint Luke mending a quill in The Dunois Hours, c.1440-1450, Paris, British Library, Yates Thompson 3, f.15v. Right: Saint Luke, Book of Hours, c.1410-1420, Paris, British Library, Yates Thompson 46, f.14v.
On the left, Saint Luke pauses his writing to mend his quill pen. His study is crowded with a bookcase,desk and a roomy and ornate hexagonal book carousel. On the right, Saint Luke has a double-decker carousel with the possibility of raising the height for improved reading ergonomics.
Left: Benvenuto da Imola commenting on The Divine Comedy, beginning of 15th century, Italy, Bodleian Library, MS Canon. Ital 107, f.001r. Right: Saint Luke, Bedford Hours, c.1414-1423, Paris, British Library, Add. 18850, f.20r.
Benvenuto da Imola and Saint Luke also benefited from the innovative swing-arm carousel. On the left, Benvenuto, nestled in his own private letter, pauses a moment in his contemplation of Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” He has a revolving carousel that he can swing forward as needed. Saint Luke, on the right, has a swing-arm lantern, a really clever addition to a carousel and a clear precursor to today’s task lighting.
The Whole Enchilada
The scribe at work, c.1320-1340, Cambrai, Bibliothéque municipale, 620 (572), f.001.
This scribe, responsible for the manuscript in which he appears, sits ensconced behind his desk. In easy reach are a book cupboard (with bifold doors) and a double-decker carousel. Get a load of the wide book bench with three locking compartments. In his rich and fur-lined garments he mocks us (perhaps that’s just me) with his plethora of book storage. It would serve him right if, despite such bookish ostentation, there is no door behind the blue curtain and he is stuck in this panel of his own making.
What About the Rest of the World?
Many things were underway in other parts of the world. For instance, China invented paper with a full documentation of the papermaking process appearing around 105 CE. Papermaking techniques began in Vietnam in the 3rd century, spread to Korea in the 4th century and on to Japan in the 5th century.
Documents and books moved from handwritten to printing with woodblocks. Printing with moveable wooden type was developed in China around 1040. The printing of the first books with moveable metal type occurred in Korea in 1234.
Although the first 13th-century books printed in Korea with moveable metal have not survived, there is one portion of a 14th-century book that did. “Jikji” is a Buddhist text printed in 1377 and is the earliest extant book printed using this new technology. This treasure is in residence at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France.
Stitch-bound books in China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan had paper covers with the title written on the cover, or a label with the title was affixed to the cover. Similar to the European practice, the title might also be written on the fore or foot edge.
The cover of “Jikji,” earliest extant book printed with moveable metal type, pages from the book and the title written on the foot edge, 1377, Cheongju, now South Korea, collection of BnF, Coreen 109.
Books did not have rigid spines and were placed flat in open shelving. An example can be seen in this chaekgeori, or scholar’s screen, from Korea.
Chaekgeori (books and things) eight-panel screen painted by Yi Eungrok, c.1860-1874, Korea, collection of The Asian Art Museum, San Francisco.
It was painted by the artist Yi Eungrok and is dated 1860-1874. Chaekgeori translates as “books and things.” The things are items, such as vases, flowers, fruit and the scholar’s writing implements. King Jeonjo (reigned 1776-1800) is credited with the introduction of these screens. When his screen was introduced, court officials thought they were looking at real bookshelves.
The Abbasid Library, 1237, Baghdad, illustrated by Yahya al-Wâsitî, école de Baghdad, Paris, BnF, MS Arabe 5847, f.5.
In the 8th century in Baghdad, paper began replacing parchment for administrative documents. The Grand Library shows a similar arrangement to the open and evenly spaced bookshelves in Asia.
Before heading back to Europe, it should be noted one other very important paper item came about when the Chinese invented paper: toilet paper.
The Book Carousel Grows Up
In 1588 Capitano Agostino Ramelli had an idea for a book carousel. In his description of the device he wrote, “…it is very useful and convenient for study, especially for those ill-disposed…because with this type of machine a man can read a large quantity of books without moving from one place.”
Figure CLXXXV111 (188) from “Le Diverse et Artifiose Machine de Capitano Agostino Ramelli,” 1588.
Ramelli’s bookwheel had epicyclic gears, with one gear rotating around another, such that the shelves holding the books are held at a constant 45° angle.
Of course, smaller bookwheels, perhaps inspired by Ramelli’s idea, were made and used in libraries and they have their own kind of elegance.
Much smaller. Left: Bibliotheca Thysiana in Leiden, Netherlands, 1650. Right: Biblioteca Palafoxiana, Pueblo, Mexico, 1773.
Ramelli’s bookwheel did not stay on the pages of his book. The bookwheel and two other learning machines were made for Daniel Libeskin’s exhibit at the 1985 Venice Architecture Biennale.
The program (top-left) and photos of The Reading Machine (based on Ramelli’s 1588 design) for the 1985 Venice Architecture Bienniale.
The link below provides a few more details about the bookwheel’s construction, difficulties encountered in Venice and what happened to the device after the Biennale.
The Robbins Library at the University of Rochester (New York), a non-circulating medieval studies library, has a Ramelli bookwheel. In 2018, the bookwheel was a collaboration between the librarians and four engineering students from the Rochester Institute of Technology. Turning the wheel is described as “an invigorating experience, both physically and intellectually.” The students made a second wheel for the Cary Collection, a graphic arts collection, at RIT.
However you organize your books (alphabetical by author, by subject, by research project, or the I- know-where-everything-is method), Charles Dickens said it best, “We never tire of the friendships we form with books.” Treat them well.
