The title of Jögge Sundqvist’s latest book, “Karvsnitt: Skära mönster i täljda föremål” translates from Swedish (per Google) as “Carved Cut: Cut patterns in carved objects”; with Jögge’s help, we’ll come up with a snappier English title once I’m done flowing in the text and tweaking the layout.
That’s what’s keeping me busy right now. Translator Alice Olsson has been working with Jögge during the last six months or so to get the English text right, and I’m now doing my best to get it to fit the colorful design from the Swedish publisher, Natur & Kultur. It seems to take English speakers more words to say the same thing – so making sure all the text aligns with the relevant images is my primary challenge.
Other than a little nipping and tucking to take care of that fitting, I haven’t really begun editing; I should be ready to dive into that by the end of next week (for which I’ll have expert help from Peter Follansbee as needed for any new-to-me terms). But I am reading as I go along, and I’m excited we’ll soon be ready to share this book with you. Jögge makes it sound simple (with a little practice of course) to make these beautiful pieces.
It builds on the techniques presented in “Slöjd in Wood” (though this book stands on its own), with 15 projects that range from simple (key fobs, knife handles) to more advanced projects (boxes, combs) – but the real magic is in the decorative techniques. You’ll learn how to design and create incised and painted patterns that are rooted in the Swedish craft tradition of making everyday objects into art.
We also hope to replicate the cover half-wrap (as well as the rest of the production values, which are in line with our own – sewn bindings, headbands, good paper, sturdy cover and the like), and have a copy with our printer right now to weigh in on that (we do need it to be affordable as well as beautifully made).
I’ll have more to share (of course) as we get closer to publication – and that won’t be too long from now!
– Fitz
p.s. We also have Derek Jones’s “Cricket Tables” manuscript in house; Kara Uhl is chasing down some images for that book, and it’s in the batter’s circle. Also in 2023 (so far) will be my Dutch tool chest book and Chris’s “American Peasant,” as well as the second issue of “The Stick Chair Journal.”
[Monroe Robinson] replaced the two posts that hold the back rest prior to this 2009 photo of Dick’s beach chair because his posts had both rotted beyond use. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
The following is excerpted from “The Handcrafted Life of Dick Proenneke,” by Monroe Robinson. No one holds a more intimate knowledge of Dick’s handcrafted life than Monroe, and just as Dick shared his life through letters and film, Monroe knew he had a responsibility to share all that he had learned. This book, which includes excerpts from more than 7,000 pages of Dick’s transcribed journals along with hundreds of photos, dozens of illustrations, and Monroe’s thoughtful and detailed commentary, is the result. It’s nonfiction, how-to, adventure and memoir, but at its heart, it’s a guidebook on how to live a life that’s “true,” with materials found and a few simple tools. Appealing to woodworkers, toolmakers, homesteaders, hikers, naturalists, conservationists, survivalists and lovers of Alaska, this book is for those who want to know how one man lived an intentional life, the kind of life many dream of living.
June 27, 1967: What to do today – fog hung low along the mountains I had been wanting to build a short bench using a near half section of log. I knew where there was just the log section to do it – up the Farmer’s property line and past the corner where Fred Cowgill had sawed his boards. I took my pack board and axe and paddled down. It was a heavy chunk and I had a bit of trouble getting on my feet after getting into the shoulder straps of the pack board lashed to the chunk. The surveyors had cut a few small spruce when they brushed out his property lines. These would be just right for legs. I had a good load coming back to the point. I couldn’t split the chunk – too many knots so I would cut it down with axe and adz. I had the adz good and sharp and the chips did fly. It looked as if someone had built a cabin. The chips are the best of kindling. I cut it down better than half – dished it a bit, peeled the bark, sawed the ends square. Augured holes for legs. No bit large enough so I used the 5-inch chisel to enlarge the holes. I sawed and peeled the legs – trimmed them to fit, split the ends and made wedges to tighten them in the holes. Drove the legs in the holes with the adz head. Cut them down to one foot six over all height and she was the finished product. One foot eight and a half-inches long, thirteen-inches wide.
June 29, 1967: I would spend the afternoon building a backrest for my short bench. The end I had cut off was already shaped on the front. I slabbed off the back side and worked it down with the axe, auger some holes and make some pegs to mount it with. By evening it was ready to put on. Weather had turned sour down country and getting that way here.
June 30, 1967: By adding a backrest my short bench became a chair – quite comfortable and very rustic.
With only an axe, saw, chisel, wood auger, adz, pocketknife & rule a man could furnish a cabin and not be ashamed of his furniture. The chair completed and the weather fairing up a bit I would give Hope Creek a try.
Adze. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
What started out to be a “short bench” turned into a comfortable chair. Dick placed it at the base of a spruce tree on the beach near his cabin. It was a favorite spot for Dick to sit reading, writing or taking in the ever-changing grandeur of “One Man’s Wilderness.”
After looking at Dick’s cabin, visitors frequently gravitate to his beach chair where they are immersed in the raw beauty of Twin Lakes. Visitors have told us that their image of “wilderness” will forever be their time at Dick’s cabin and Twin Lakes.
K. frequently took visitors on a short walk beyond Dick’s woodshed. Within a few yards, Dick’s cabin, cache and woodshed are no longer visible. Visitors can no longer see the floatplane that flew them to Twin Lakes. They can no longer see any overhead power lines, roads or trails. They can only hear the sounds of wilderness. Often visitors would say something like, “Oh, now I can see why Dick moved here.” It is a moment they will remember for as long as they remember Dick’s cabin.
Dick sitting in his beach chair in 1992. (Photo by Dick Proenneke, courtesy of the National Park Service)
August 2, 1968: I need a stool out side to sit things on when opening the door and such. I have a twelve-inch log from the tree I removed to build the cabin. I would saw off a 10-inch length and put the legs on the end. Give them a flare so it wouldn’t tip over if you stepped up onto it.
A thin cut to even it up. The cut looked so nice why not make more thin cuts and plane them smooth and use them for placemats and hot pads to set hot pans on. It would save my plastic tablecloth.
These placemats were “badly soiled by freeloaders” sometime during the winter of 1969-1970. There are photographs of the placemats Dick made to replace the badly soiled ones later in this chapter.
August 10, 1968: Today among other things I would build my butchers block for outside the door. A 10″ length of 11-inch log with three legs. It was finished in short order.
(Above) The bottom of Dick’s water bucket stand. (Photo by Daniel Papke, courtesy of the National Park Service)
The “butcher block” is the “stool” Dick started to build on August 2. The butcher block only resided in front of Dick’s cabin for a short time, until he constructed a pair of spruce burl tables that remain there today. Dick moved the butcher block into the corner of his cabin where it became the stand for his galvanized water bucket and drinking cup. See 1969 photo on Page 181.
Dick moved his butcher block table inside for use as a water bucket stand. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
How about making a diagonal cut on the same log and slice off a 5/8″ slab or two. I sawed one and it was very even so I planed it that brought the grain and growth rings into view. I cut another not quite as true but real close so I planed it too. They will make nice decorations for wall or mantle. I gave the backside of them a coat of clear shellac and bees wax on the smooth side to keep them from checking. If it will I’m not sure.
I needed more movies of my latest improvements so hauled out the camera gear and hope to have some interesting shots.
This diagonal cut sat on Dick’s fireplace mantle for some time. He later used it as a plaque for a beautiful spoon to hang on the wall with the words, “Twin Lakes Champion – Sourdough Biscuits and Beans.”
“Twin Lakes Champion – Sourdough Biscuits and Beans” plaque. The plaque was made from a slice of the stump Dick removed from his cabin site. (Photo by Harper’s Ferry Center, courtesy of the National Park Service)
March 4, 1969: Time enough to sand Hope’s wooden spoon. A chunk of wood for a seat in the warm sun I sanded it to perfection. I do believe this was the most pleasant day of 1969.
Dick dug out this spruce stump from his cabin site in 1967. (Photo by Monroe Robinson)
The tree stump Dick removed from his cabin site became the wood he used to make his butcher block, placemats and plaque for his sourdough spoon. The seat Dick “sanded to perfection” sits on one of the stump’s roots where it makes a comfortable place to sit with your back against a tree. From there you can see the front of Dick’s cabin.
Here [Monroe Robinson is] sitting at the base of the stump, as Dick would have done. (Photo by K. Schubeck)
Peter Follansbee will spend four days with us to teach a class in carving various 17th-century designs from pieces he’s studied from museums and private collections. This class – suitable for those new to carving or those new to this style of carving – will start with basic techniques and posture, and simple gouge work. Then more gouges will come into play as students delve deeper into patterns, proportions, spacing and the relationship between background and foreground. Each successive pattern builds upon the previous example, adding more tools and concepts.
The class runs Monday, April 17 through Thursday, April 20. Class size is limited to six students – so you’ll get plenty of personal attention from Follansbee. Plus the shop cats (if they deign to visit). The cost is $1,200, which includes the stock (quartersawn oak). Tickets go on sale a week from today at 10 a.m. Eastern (that’s 10 a.m. Eastern on January 12) through our Ticket Tailor page.
You can read more, and see the tool list, by clicking here.
Eooouuuwww. I’m a slob, but I’m not (usually) dirty. This till is disgusting.
Chris mentioned in his Sunday post that since The Anarchist’s Tool Chest was published, he’s nailed in a few till dividers to corral small tools. After I showed my chest last week, people asked for a look at my tools and tills…so I’m scrambling to clean them and make them slightly more organized – and divest my chest of the stuff that really shouldn’t be in it – before showing what made the cut.
Ah – that’s better. (I’d forgotten I’d used fancy wood on the till bottoms!)
Chris cleans out the offcut bin regularly, and we’re selective about what goes into it in the first place. We have severely limited space here for storage, so we don’t save much (a contractor friend takes all the small stuff/bad stuff to burn). But I am a hoarder…so I sometimes squirrel away under my bench and on my office shelves pieces that Chris would certainly pitch. And it finally paid off. I had the perfect 3/8″-thick walnut to cut up for dividers – it was almost no work to get it ready for use. I just had to cut it to length, then shoot it for a perfect fit.
Arguable a bit too anal-retentive for a cubby wall. But I’m arguably more than a bit anal-retentive about many things.
To set the wall locations, I plopped the tool for which each was intended in place, then added a bit of wiggle room with the nearest thing to hand that seemed of about the correct thickness – a half-used Post-It pad. After marking out center lines on tape (with thin material, it’s best to be dead-on), I nailed the walls in place (two pins on each end) with the 23-gauge pinner. Yes, the walls will come out easily – that’s on purpose. And all the tool racks in my chest are screwed in place. I want to be able to easily rearrange things if my needs change (or for whomever inherits my chest to be able to easily re-arrange things to fit their own needs. If they don’t burn it or sell it for $50 at an estate sale).
A little protection for my new and already beloved No. 60-1/2. (As I’ve mentioned before, the No. 60-1/2 is a bit large to feel comfortable in my hands, but that adjustable mouth makes it worth a little discomfort.) My long-time love, a No. 102 (which fits my hand perfectly), got an adjacent cubby.
On the other end, I used a coaster to locate a cubby wall for confining pencils, a silly cat-head tape measure I won’t use (but love) and my most-used safety device – a hair clip.
That’s one down, two to go. (I’m afraid to find out how much cat hair and sawdust is in the bottom of the chest proper.)
Chris and I do have a lot of the same tools, but five years ago, our in-chest tools kits were a lot closer to identical (’cause I learned much of what I know from him). But since Chris’s uptick in chair building and my penchant for teaching all things dovetailed, our kits have diverged somewhat. I’ll clean out the rest of my chest and show its contents in full this Sunday.
“Icon Stand,” carved by Mary May in the Byzantine style, basswood.
In addition to her expert instruction on carving a classical leaf motif, in”Carving the Acanthus Leaf,” author Mary May also shares stories from her life, such as the one excerpted below.
The book is a deep exploration into the iconic acanthus leaf, which has been a cornerstone of Western ornamentation for thousands of years. May, a professional carver and instructor, covers carving tools and sharpening with the efficiency of someone who has taught for years. Then she plunges the reader directly into the work.
It begins with a simple leaf that requires just a few tools. The book then progresses through 13 variations of leaves up to the highly ornate Renaissance and Rococo forms. Each lesson builds on the earlier ones as the complexity slowly increases.
– Fitz
Being a student of woodcarving is not at all like being in a school program where there is a “final exam” at the end of the term to determine passage into the next level. My first woodcarving teacher, Konstantinos Papadakis, is a true master carver who specializes in the Byzantine style of woodcarving, one of the defining features of the beautifully ornate interiors of traditional Greek Orthodox churches. Stepping into the foyer of one of these churches, you are often greeted with an intricately carved “icon stand,” created to hold a vibrant painting of a venerated saint. Walking into the main sanctuary, you will be amazed by the remarkably detailed altar screens covered on every surface with carved leaves, vines and symbols of the Christian faith.
On one side of the altar will be a beautifully carved wooden structure called an Epitaphios, which holds a sacred tapestry depicting the laying of Christ in the tomb, an important symbolic part of the Eastern Orthodox Easter celebration. The annual springtime tradition is for children of the church to decorate the Epitaphios with flowers, threading the stems through the pierced carvings.The priest and several elders of the church carry it in a somber funeral procession around the outside of the church as the entire congregation follows in mourning. Their collective sadness at the death of their Savior is soon replaced when they re-enter the church for a grand celebration, rejoicing in the discovery of Christ’s resurrection.
Needless to say, when I began to learn woodcarving from Konstantinos, his teaching focused on mastering the nuances of the Byzantine style. I practiced carving what seemed like miles of continuous vines, curling and twisting along flat paneled surfaces, intermixed with grapes and symbolic images, especially the traditional peacocks and doves. This Byzantine style is easily recognizable, featuring highly stylized leaves that are splayed and pointed. Sharp “V” cuts shape the surface of leaves and vines. And the many angles and sharply defined lines create dynamic shadows. When viewed from a distance, these elements combine to decorate pieces that have a 3D, almost lifelike quality.
After three hard and rewarding years working and studying under the guidance of Konstantinos, I decided to venture across the globe to learn different styles and techniques from other master woodcarvers. It was to be much like the journeyman of old, beginning their working lives by setting out to work in various workshops to glean as much knowledge as possible from different masters. So without a formal “exam,” how could I prove that I was ready to take this next big step? I needed to design, build and carve a traditional Byzantine-style icon stand, and that is just what I set out to do.
It was finally time to bring together all of the skills I had learned in my three years with Konstantinos. I began by designing the four carved panels that made up the main body of the icon stand. The two side panels had a stylized peacock carved in the center surrounded by curling, twisting grape leaves. The front and rear panels were decorated with the same pointed, scrolling leaves around two medallions. I drilled countless holes into every tiny space between the details to prepare the way for cutting out all of the background wood. By inserting a thin scroll saw blade into the holes and patiently following each twisting curve, each little background shape finally dropped cleanly to the floor to create the pierced panels. It was a grueling week sawing out every portion of the background, but I was motivated by the knowledge that I was just preparing for the fun part.
Detail of “Icon Stand,” carved by Mary May in the Byzantine style, basswood.
Finally, after all of the drawing, drilling and sawing, I began the carving. I spent the next three weeks intently detailing all of the panels, carving the peacocks, finalizing the edge mouldings and capitals, and hand-shaping the tall spiral legs. It was a long and exhausting month, but when I proudly unveiled the finished icon stand, I was filled with a deep satisfaction, knowing that I had passed the test. I was now ready to continue my journey, working with and learning from other master carvers. I do look back fondly on those long years of practice and study, and though I have completed many challenging carving projects in the years since, the icon stand holds a place of honor in my portfolio. I have carried it with me for 22 years. These days, it may inspire me with its company in my workshop, dominate the corner of our living room or occupy a place in a furniture show or exhibit, but it will always have a special place in my heart as a representation of two major passages in my life. The first was the “final exam” that marked a major transition in my carving life, and the second was when my husband and I knelt before it humbly as we were married, the priest using it as a lectern in our beautiful outdoor wedding.
