“Shaker Side Table,” my latest DVD with Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, is now in stock through the Lost Art Press store.
It is $40 plus domestic shipping. Click here to see it in the store.
The reason this DVD is so expensive is because it is more than four hours long. In it, I show every operation in building this table completely by hand, from tapering the legs to applying the finish. The DVD is, in essence, all the demonstrations I would show students during a week-long class on building this table.
Also, I am not a quiet worker. During every operation I continue to talk, explaining the method I’m using and the pros and cons of alternative methods.
As a result, the DVD is dense with information. And like a growler of imperial IPA, it is not designed to be consumed all in one sitting.
When the DVD came out, I was terrified that viewers would recoil at the length of the program. It is longer than any woodworking DVD I’ve been involved with. To my surprise, reaction has been good. Very good in fact.
My next DVD with Lie-Nielsen, which they are editing now, will be a similar approach to building a boarded chest entirely by hand. So if you like the side table DVD, you’ll probably like the boarded chest video as well.
As always, these DVDs are possible only because of the good people at Lie-Nielsen Toolworks. Left to my own devices, I would never appear in a DVD (or teach a class, or talk to a woodworking club, or attend a show). I look like a lab animal and sound like a barking dog. But Thomas Lie-Nielsen is of the mind that many woodworkers like to learn using video, and he’s right.
The final round of copy editing has been completed on “To Make as Perfectly as Possible,” the penultimate proof has been sent to the designer, Wesley Tanner, for corrections, and, well, I’m confident it will be as perfect as possible. I’ll get one last proof to check again this marked-up copy (thank you Linda Watts for catching errors that I did not), then I believe the plan is to have it to the printer on or before July 1. (At which time there will be much rejoicing.)
I’ve read this volume four times now in as many weeks, and while I realize I couldn’t possibly execute a perfect work in marquetry (having never before attempted it – and Roubo reminds us time and again that good work requires lots of practice), I’m quite certain that I could tell someone how to do it (along with what tropical hardwoods would be best used for any given effect).
I eagerly await volume two (Don et al., get on that, would you?!).
Below, I’ve copied a few of my favorite quotations (I kept a running list whilst editing). So until the thing itself is available, enjoy these wee excerpts.
— Megan Fitzpatrick
“The prevailing display of luxury is also one of the causes of the lack of excellence in works of cabinetry – everyone wishing to have it but without having the means to pay what they are worth.” (Sounds quite contemporary, eh?!)
“This might be due to laziness or inability, or, which is more accurate, by the impossible situation they are in when the merchants pay only half the necessary amount for it to be well made.” (Nice to see that little has changed in the intervening centuries)
“If woodworking is, by itself, an important art should not the knowledge of it be acquired (or at least attempted) as much in theory as in practice? Sadly, this is not very common at the present.” (Kids today…)
“One of the biggest obstacles that I have had to overcome is the cry of the public against big books, which they will not buy because they are too expensive, or they buy but do not read because they are too voluminous. But how could I do otherwise? Should I fool the Public in pandering to their taste but against their interests by giving them an abridged and consequently less expensive edition, but where they will learn nothing…?” (He’s absolutely right, then and now)
“…but when speaking badly of a piece I have always respected the worker, at least that was my intention.” (Good on you, A.J.)
Starting next week, all the books that I’ve written that we sell through Lost Art Press will be signed via a letterpress bookplate.
For the last six months, I’ve been signing the books via a simple adhesive label. We wanted something nicer. These bookplates are about five times nicer and 32 times as expensive.
These self-adhesive bookplates measure 2-3/8” x 2-3/4” and were printed at Steam Whistle Letterpress and Design in Cincinnati, Ohio. The bookplates are on acid-free Mohawk stock and were hand-set and printed on vintage equipment restored by Brian Stuparyk at Steam Whistle.
If you need some letterpress work (invitations, business cards, whatever), I highly recommend his shop. Brian has been obsessed with printing since he was a kid and has quite the collection of vintage machines and type.
As a convenience, we are also offering these signed self-adhesive bookplates by themselves for $2 (that price includes shipping). That way you can affix them in a book you have purchased from one of our retailers. Let me repeat that in a different way: All books sold by Lost Art Press that are written by Christopher Schwarz are already signed by him via this bookplate. You don’t need to buy this item if you are buying a book from us. This item is for people who have bought a book from another retailer and want to add his signature to it.
Here are some quick answers to questions we’ve received about signed books.
1. Why use a label or bookplate? Why don’t you just sign the book itself?
Our inventory is in Indiana. I am in Kentucky. There simply are not enough hours in the day for me to drive to Indiana and sign all our books. Until the day comes when we can consolidate all our operations in one city, this is the best that we can do.
2. Why don’t you offer these bookplates signed by other authors?
I suspect we will do that in the future. It’s a time-consuming process, and our first goal is to produce books, not get them autographed by the author.
3. Can I get you to sign my book with no bookplate?
Sure, just show up at one of the places I am teaching (my schedule is in the right rail of the blog). I’ll sign your book, your bare chest, whatever.
NYC Urban Lumber Harvesting: Perquisites and Pitfalls
It’s been an interesting journey these past few years, to say the least. We have watched our company swell and shrink, from one guy to seven guys and back down to two. We’ve been overwhelmingly busy and dismally slow; the amount of all-nighters pulled in the shop in hopes of meeting deadlines being roughly equal to the amount of sleepless nights spent wondering (worrying?) about how we are going to drum up sales and keep the whole affair afloat. Small successes are always met with slightly smaller defeats, enough so that the carrot does ever dangle. Basically, when we’re not busy high-fiving each other, we can be found banging our heads against the nearest wall. At the end of the day we are able to maintain a constant level of psych for this pet project turned full time job/obsession, and that is due to a trait peculiar to most people but familiar to woodworkers:
We get giddy about the wood.
Just about every time we cut a new log, we find ourselves ogling the grain, taking photos, “ooh-ing” and “ahhh-ing” over each new slab as it comes off the mill.
We run our hands over the freshly cut surface, feeling the tree’s cool moisture, silently judging the quality of cut from the blade. Many times I’ve repeated the same idle vow: “now this one I’m keeping for myself.”
This base reaction to freshly cut boards has been the fuel that keeps us going, especially when the going gets tough. And it does get tough. New York City is a land of tiny backyards accessible only via trespassing and calisthenics. We recently found ourselves finessing 10’ long, 300+lbs. mulberry slabs around a tight 90º turn and through an 18” wide “alley” to get to the stairs, and finally onto the trailer. Good thing there were only eight of them.
Another fun incident was trying to extract large silver maple slabs we milled from a tree downed by Hurricane Irene. These slabs were 9′-8”-long because that was the absolute maximum size I determined we could get down the stairs to the basement, across the building, up the stairs, around a dogleg turn with a four-step rise, through the door and into the truck. That was a big tree so we got to practice that dance 21 times, finding near-perfection by the end. The 9’-8” thing actually worked, just as soon as we removed the front door.
An unexpectedly fun aspect of this business turns out to be amusing the public. Folks in Brooklyn, N.Y., aren’t accustomed to seeing guys with chainsaws, especially not 48” long chainsaws. Wielding these monsters on the sidewalk in Bushwick draws a crowd. A nervous crowd, on the far side of the street. The audience that gathered while we were trying to unload a large sycamore log from the pickup by hand really got their money’s worth. By that time we had ironed out most of the kinks in the “drop clutch removal” process so our onlookers were treated to the workings of a well-oiled machine. The procedure is as follows:
– Back vehicle up to a reliable anchor (a 10” span of brick wall between my loading dock and a doorway worked nicely).
– Chain log to anchor.
– Remove vehicle’s tailgate (very important).
– Instruct driver to perform a drop clutch launch.
We have actually elicited applause with this technique. We’ve also folded a couple tailgates. For more quartersawn sycamore, with its characteristic lacewood-like figure and striking pink, blue and yellow color I would happily fold as many tailgates as it takes.
So you see, not lack of sleep, nor anxiety induced heartburn, nor sore and fatigued muscles can diminish our zeal for revealing the hidden beauty in each new log. In fact, there is a doozy waiting for us in the yard right now. It’s a giant chunk of crotch hickory, about 60” wide and 9’ long, with lots of telltale ripples under the bark hinting at the figure hidden inside. We know with certainty that this log is going to kick our butts. Hickory is just way harder and heavier a material than the human physiological form was build to handle at these sizes. I can’t wait! These slabs are going to be amazing, truly one of a kind. And I’m probably going to keep one for myself.
A long time ago when I was married, David Charlesworth, Tom Lie-Nielsen and Chris came over for libations. Near the end of the evening, Tom suggested we move the 8′ long Nicholson bench Chris had made into my basement shop. David assured us it would not fit, and to prove his point he walked away when disaster began.
David was right. The bench did not fit, and I had to remove a wall to get it around a corner and into the shop. Fast-forward a number of years and due to some legal issues I was required to remove the bench from the basement. Let me interject that I will never ever have a basement workshop again. Never!
The rebuilt wall was 3″ too wide, and again the bench didn’t fit up the stairs. Because the Nicholson bench doesn’t come apart, I had to saw down the legs. I wanted to destroy the wall again, but with a former spouse videoing the condition of the wall before I got there and having an attorney on speed dial I figured it best to saw. It was so fun cutting some off the legs that I did it again. Seems like the only thing I did right that day was to keep the off-cuts.
Recently, I repaired the bench. The Dominos worked great, although they were a little tricky because the cross members that support the legs prevented me from using the plate to register the cutter. I had to do some exact measuring that didn’t work in one instance. I just glued in a domino then flush-cut it and started again. The mending plates were added for extra strength. All is now right with the world. I have the bench upright and working and converted the dining room into a workshop.
“Shaker Side Table,” my latest DVD with Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, is now in stock through the Lost Art Press store.
