Despite my natural hermit tendencies, we’ve decided to again open the Lost Art Press storefront on the second Saturday of each month. Hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
In addition to carrying our complete line of books and tools from Crucible, we also sell blemished books for 50 percent off (cash only on those) and special T-shirts and posters that are available only at the storefront.
The storefront is located at 837 Willard St. in Covington, Ky.
Jan. 14
Feb. 11
March 11 (in conjunction with a Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event)
April 8
May 13
June 10
July 8
Aug. 12
Sept. 9
Oct. 14
Nov. 11
Dec. 9
Since we bought the building in 2015, Covington has blossomed with new restaurants and developments that we are pleased to be part of. You can now stay in the beautiful Hotel Covington (a seven-minute walk from our storefront), get a drink at Braxton Brewing or one of the dozen other new watering holes. And there are new restaurants too numerous to mention.
Oh, and you can walk across the Roebling Suspension Bridge and there’s this other place, Cincinnati, to visit.
Work on the storefront has been proceeding at a good clip. By January we should have the basement all concreted and climate-controlled for wood storage (my first ever place to store wood!). I’ve been working at the back of the ground floor all month, eliminating the last of the purple glitter from the Blaze bar.
And, most exciting, we’ve upgraded the urinal with new plumbing.
This morning I had a 15-minute video chat with Joshua Klein of Mortise & Tenon Magazine about the article I wrote for him on the low Roman workbench.
The discussion ranged from how I became interested in this form of bench to how this workbench might be ideal for woodworkers in apartments or who have disabilities.
You can watch the video in its entirety for free here. And be sure to order a copy of issue two of Mortise & Tenon Magazine, which will begin shipping in about a week. It’s only $24 but contains a huge amount of coverage of traditional work that you won’t find anywhere else. And the physical object itself is gorgeous and worth keeping.
Update on the Book ‘Roman Workbenches’
This book project has taken on a life of its own and has inflated like a pool toy as Suzanne Ellison, Görge Jonuschat and I have dug up new material that hasn’t been published outside academic circles. We have flushed a lot of money down the potty for this project. But it’s a tale worth telling.
So here’s what we’re going to do.
We are going to publish a short letterpress book – about 64 pages – about our research, bench building and conclusions up to this point. That book is already written and we’re going to illustrate it with old-school line drawings from artist Nicholas Mogley. We will do one press run of this book on the vintage letterpress machinery owned by Steamwhistle Press in Newport in February.
Everyone who wants a copy will get one, but once that press run is done, that version is kaput forever.
The letterpress book will be a bit of an odd duck. It’s a book about research, dead ends, bench building, wet wood and cow sex. And it’s written in a loose style that makes academics sneer.
Then, in March, photographer Narayan Nayar and I will fly to Naples (Italy, not Florida) to visit Pompeii, Herculaneum and climb Vesuvius. If there’s enough interest, we will publish a regular offset Lost Art Press book that greatly expands the research from the letterpress book with tons of photos, illustrations and the fire hose of research from Suzanne Ellison and Görge Jonuschat.
I think Roman workbenches have a lot to teach us. And it begins with these two words: Be seated.
I hope you will join us for this odd journey. Even if you don’t, I’ll get some great meals in Italy and climb a volcano.
Here’s an old school carpenter’s (or landscaper’s) method of laying out a line, such as a foundation form or a hedge row, to a specified angle. The tools needed are simple, primitive even: A length of rope marked at a certain distance and a 10′ pole marked in 1′ increments (i.e. the once ubiquitous carpenter’s 1o’ pole). Or you can join the 20th century and use a tape measure.
Let’s jump right in and lay out an 8° angle from a baseline. The drawing above is pretty self explanatory, but I’ll explain it anyway in my hopefully not too pedantic step-by-step fashion:
Step 1: Establish the baseline (via a stretched string) and set a pin (a sharpened stick works) at the focal point where the angle will converge.
Step 2: Make a loop at the end of a non-stretchable rope (i.e. avoid nylon) and run it out along the baseline from the base pin. Measure out 57′ 2-1/2″ from the pin along the rope and make a mark with a Sharpie or tie on a piece of string. Also, set a pin at the baseline at that distance.
Step 3: Now arc the rope away from the baseline in the direction you want to lay out the angle.
Step 4: Set the base of the 10′ pole at the baseline pin and orient it to the rope. When the 8′ mark on the pole passes over the mark on the rope then the angle to the baseline is (drum roll) 8°.
So how does this work you might ask? As my friend Joe Youcha of buildingtoteach.com explained to me: “The answer is buried in the math we were all injected with in grammar school.” We were all told about the “transcendental number” called “pi” which when inputted into your calculator would provide you with either the circumference of a circle based on its diameter or vice versa.
Artisans of antiquity, however, had no knowledge of the decimal number pi. In fact, decimal numbers in general had not been described in detail in the Western world until the late 1500s by the mathematician Simon Stevin. But artisans did have an excellent working relationship with the straightforward (non-cendental?) proportional ratio system. In the case of the relationship of the diameter of a circle with its circumference, they would just step out the diameter into seven segments and know that 22 of those segments would, to a high level of accuracy, give them the length of the circumference. Good enough for government work (such as the Parthenon) as they say.
Because we apparently need to work with degrees (probably because the architect speced out the angle in degrees instead of the length of a chord as they would have in antiquity), we would need to know what number of segments the diameter would be if the circumference were stepped out to 360 segments. That number is, of course, an arbitrary but widely accepted convention since Babylonian times as a convenient way to divvy up a circle. We like it as it can be evenly divided by so many whole number divisions – though for a time Europeans were quite fond of 400 degrees.
But I digress; back to how it works: If you go to the trouble of physically stepping out along the circumference of a circle with dividers, you’ll discover that when 360 segments do the trick, 114 and 5/12ths of another segment will define the diameter. Of course, using al-Jabr (given to us by the Islamic mathematicians), we can quickly solve for this result using an algebraic equation to solve for an unknown.
For this purpose we’ll use half of the diameter segments – fifty seven and two and one half twelfths – to lay out the radius length on the rope. The bottom line: We find that a radius of 57 feet, 2-1/2″ produces a circumference length of 360 feet. So for every foot we swing the arc, we produce an angle of 1°.
He runs the largest woodworking school in the world, has seen work from the best living woodworkers and is an astonishing craftsman in his own right. And yet, last year I sat next to Marc and he was transfixed, spellbound and speechless because of the work of Jögge Sundqvist.
Jögge and his work are difficult to describe without slipping into the fantastical. He makes all manner of objects that we would classify as “green” woodworking – chairs, knives, bowls and other hand-carved objects. Yet their execution and their bright colors defy that simple categorization.
For me, the best word is that Jögge’s work is magical.
While I’ve known of Jögge for many years (he is woodworking royalty), I first met him at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking. He was teaching his first class there. I was teaching my last.
During one evening at the school, he gave an extended presentation of his work, and I was hooked.
During the last 12 months, John and I have worked our butts off to secure the rights to his book “Sloyd in Wood” and get it translated into English. I am happy to announce that all the contracts have been signed, the people have been paid and the translation is underway. Our hope it to have the book published by the end of 2017.
“Sloyd in Wood” is an introduction to the way Jögge sees the work, the way he works and the details that permeate the things he creates. Yes, it’s a book on carving spoons, but it is more a book that looks at the tree and sees the spoons inside.
The book is 100-percent gorgeous with beautiful photos and illustrations. Of course, we will meet or exceed the production quality of the original with our translation.
If you’d like a peek at more of Jögge’s work, visit his website or follow him on Instagram.
It’s funny how something can look so easy and end up being so daunting. It is also surprising to me that one of the most famous pieces of Shaker furniture has gone so many years without being properly measured and documented. I am referring here to the candle stand in the collection at Hancock Shaker Village. There are plans for this table in many books; many claim to be measured from the table in Hancock’s collection, but I have yet to find a published plan that has the correct dimensions and shapes.
Original table at HSV, photo by J. Farnsworth
After numerous attempts to build a table that had the elegant flow of the original using the published plans from several different books and photos of four different original tables, I failed at every attempt. I ended up contacting the folks at Hancock, and they were gracious enough to let me document the table in their collection.
Magic legs!
I also managed to wrangle Joshua Farnsworth into doing a video on the candle stand. He and I traveled to Hancock to measure and photograph the original table, as well as a couple other projects. A short video about our trip is available here.
The video on the candle stand just went up for sale at Wood and Shop store today. It is 244 minuets long and includes footage of our trip to Hancock, an examination of the original piece and detailed step by step instruction on how I reproduce this epic piece of Shaker furniture. The measured plans I made from the original table are included on the DVD as well. And yes, I really did measure the original!
Below is the link to the preview of the candle stand video.
A reproduction table I made using the patterns from the original.
Of all the things I have made, these tables generate the most comments from folks; almost everyone likes them. I’m not completely sure why that is other than the fact that it is minimalistic but not plain. No bull$%&*. “It is what it is” type of thing (I think). For me it has been one of those projects that when I sit back and look at what I have done, it simply makes me happy.
