You may have heard that Aspen Golann, founder of the Chairmaker’s Toolbox – which has selflessly been helping others to learn chairmaking – could now use a little help herself. She has suffered a bad leg break that will keep her out of the shop for about five months. If you can spare a little to help her out during her recovery, please donate at the GoFundMe set up by Peter Galbert.
by Mattias Hallin
While talking chairs over a beer on an evening during the Chair Chat Class week, the conversation eventually turned upon the Swedish stick chair tradition in general, and Mats Palmquist’s 2018 book “Träsmak” in particular. As it happened, that book and a number of others had been laid out by Chrisropher Schwarz on the coffee table in the Covington Mechanical Library for us to peruse and, if so inclined, be inspired by for our upcoming chair builds.
It is lavishly illustrated with many hundreds of excellent photos of Swedish stick chairs, their design and their production over the last 170 or so years, so as a visual source of design inspiration, it works a treat. The text complements this with an in-depth look at the history of stick chair design and manufacture in Sweden during the same period. In Swedish. Which means that, unless you can at least decipher that language, or have the time on your hands to take the text through machine translation (and the patience to deal with the pitfalls thereof), like Chris and most other non-Scandinavians, you will only be able to view, not read. So, after I had gone on for a bit about what “Träsmak” actually has to say, Chris gave me a look and asked “how about you write a presentation of the book for the blog?”.
As you can see, I agreed.
By the way, “presentation” is a key word; this blog post is not meant to be review, although I do express the occasional opinion or add snippets of information not out of the book. But the basic idea is to give the non-Swedish speaking readership of the blog a taste (pun intended – see below) of what it is all about. Not, however, by sticking to the structure of the book, which, from written sources, photos, memories and anecdotes, weaves a semi-chronologically presented, rather detailed tapestry of intermingled producers, designers and chairs. This makes for great reading and browsing but is not easy to sum up. I will instead attempt to identify some main threads, to stay with the tapestry analogy, and talk about them briefly, one at a time. But for a proper look, get the book!
‘Träsmak – En bok om svenska pinnstolar‘
First, though, the title: What it does it mean?
Trä is wood, and smak is taste or flavour, so a literal translation could be “The Flavour of Wood.” As an idiomatic expression, however, träsmak means a benumbed posterior from sitting on a hard or uncomfortable seat. So, Numb Butt, which, according to the author, has often been the result of sitting on these chairs: “It has been said that the stick chair is the only democratic piece of furniture. It is equally uncomfortable to all.”
As for the subtitle, en = one, a or an, bok = book, om = about, svenska = Swedish while pinnstolar is the plural of pinnstol = stick chair, from pinne = stick, and stol = chair. So, A Book About Swedish Stick Chairs.
Origin Story No. 2: The Book
Mats Palmquist has worked as a journalist, writer and graphic designer for more than 40 years. As far as I know, he’s not a woodworker, but he talks about a long-standing interest in furniture design, and about how, many years ago, he used to see plenty of stick chairs going for not much money at flea markets. His interest roused, he tried to find out more, but soon realised that very little had been written about them. Long years of gathering what information he could find eventually led to the thought that maybe he’d better write about the subject himself. Thus, while freely acknowledging it to be far from complete, he calls the result “a book somewhat like what [he] missed back then.”
Origin Story No. 3: Swedish Stick Chairs
Stick chairs are ubiquitous in the Swedish furniture landscape and have been since the second half of the 19th century – witness Palmquist talking about always finding them at flea markets. Witness also my own experience, growing up in Sweden in the 1960s and 70s. We had a set in the kitchen, so did my grandparents. Stick chairs were in the homes of family and friends, in restaurants, in public spaces. You never really noticed them; they were just there. So normal that they tended to disappear into the background, even as you sat on them.
And for a long time, there was a large industry to make them, some of which survives to this day.
Apparently it can all be traced back to just three people, in an origin story that seems reasonably reliable. As Palmquist tells it, it began sometime in the 1850s, with a Mrs. Henrietta Killander, at the time lady of the manor at the Hook Estate in Svenarum Parish, some 20 miles south of Jönköping in the province of Småland in southern Sweden. She asked Jonas Fagerlund, the carpenter at close-by Lindefors Bruk iron works (that the Killander family also owned), to make a chair from a design of hers. Fagerlund in turn asked a certain Daniel Ljungqvist, for help. The latter was known for his skill in making spinning wheels, an implement that usually involves a staked construction and a number of turned sticks. He would thus have had a foot-powered lathe and been familiar with turning. After the first chair had met with approval, a further number were commissioned from the same two men.
These chairs looked very much like English Windsor back chairs of the same era, but where Mrs. Killander found her inspiration for the design is not known. There is no evidence that she had been abroad, but small numbers of Windsor-inspired chairs had been made by Swedish cabinetmakers since the late 1700s. She may thus have seen some of those, or imported Windsors, or even just pictures of them; the importance of her design and commission lies not in any claim to originality, but in the impulse it gave to in particular Daniel Ljungqvist, who continued to make chairs like these. The idea soon passed from him to local smallholders, for whom it was a good way to make some cash on the side. The raw material – mostly birch – could be found in abundance pretty much on the doorstep, while a user-made, foot-powered lathe was well within reach, both practically and financially. The resulting chairs were then sold in town – Jönköping – or at fairs, and met with a steady enough demand to warrant continued supply.
From Farms to Factories
This nascent cottage industry soon outgrew the cottages where it got its start, and in the 1860s began to turn into an initially small and somewhat primitive but clearly factory-based proto-industry. First out was a certain Johan Wilhelm Thunander, who in 1863, at 19 years old and together with two others, began making chairs by hand at Harkeryd Farm, again in Svenarum Parish. They soon also employed a man who had worked with Daniel Ljungqvist. Thunander eventually came up with the idea to use water power to run the lathe, first at a local flour mill. In 1870 the activities were moved to Horshaga Farm, strategically located next to running water, and where, under the name of Hagafors Stolfabrik (fors = rapids; stolfabrik = chair factory), the machines running on water power soon included band saw, drill press and jointer.
Two other stick chair factory pioneers in the area were Carl Johan Wigell, who started making chairs in nearby Malmbäck in 1868, and Per Johan Andersson, who began his business in Svenarum in 1870, but in 1882 moved the 25 or so miles north-east to Nässjö, a town newly founded around the coming together of five different railroad lines, including the Southern Main Line connecting Malmö to Stockholm. The business was later named after the town as Nässjö Stolfabrik, and eventually became the most productive stick chair factory in Sweden.
On both sides of the turn of the 20th century, many other factories sprang up, first all over Småland, in places like Jönköping, Värnamo, Bodafors, Sävsjö, Vetlanda, Diö, Vaggeryd, Skillingaryd, Smålandsstenar, Moheda, Tranås and more besides, then elsewhere in Sweden, including Edsbyn, Tallåsen, Sparreholm, Holmsund, Stockholm, Tibro and Örebro. Steam (and later electric) power soon supplemented or replaced water for running machines.
There’s not room here to go into such detail as the book does on these many companies and factories and their varying fortunes, but of the original three, Hagafors Stolfabrik gradually ceased production in the mid-1960s, while Nässjö Stolfabrik went bankrupt and closed its doors in 1991/92. Wigells, though, are in business in Malmbäck to this day, and still make stick chairs (and many other types of furniture besides).
From Windsor to Swedish Mid-Century Modern – or SMC Rustic
Up until the late 1920s or so, most (possibly even all) of the stick chairs made in Sweden by these many factories look very much the same, irrespective of who made them. There will of course have been differences of quality, and a plethora of models – back chairs, arm chairs, rocking chairs and so on – with more or less subtle variations in design and finish, but judging from how Palmquist presents the matter, both in pictures and in writing, they were all riffing on a Windsor theme and on each other: decoratively turned legs and sticks; typically curly seat and comb shapes; marked saddling. In short, the Windsor works.
With the arrival in Sweden of Functionalism in the years around the 1930 Stockholm Exhibition this begins to change, and in particular during what might be termed a Golden Age for these chairs in the 1940s, 50s and 60s, a rich and distinctively Swedish stick chair language evolves through the work of a number of well-known and successful designers: Uno Åhrén, Carl Malmsten, Sven-Erik Fryklund, Yngve Ekström, Sonna Rosén, Gunnar Eklöf, and (from Finland) Ilmari Tapiovaara, to mention just a few of the bigger names.
Instead of the old, decorative turnings, legs and sticks become smoothly rounded, seats and combs lose their curlicues, saddling is usually discrete or non-existent, with some seats even made from form-pressed veneer. Much of it is made to fit into what is now often called a Mid-Century Modern aesthetic (including some more daring experiments in form, now perhaps a tad dated), with others in more of a (faux) Rustic style.
This design trend in fact continues to this day. Certain classics from the 40s and 50s are still produced (see also below), and although contemporary designers – amongst those whose work is mentioned in the book are Nirvan Richter, Lina Nordqvist, Thomas Sandell, Markus Johansson, Mårten Cyrén and Jonas Lindvall – may try to stretch the envelope in certain ways, they are yet well grounded in the forms and designs of the mid-20th century.
Oh, and – no surprise – Ikea has of course produced quite a number of stick chairs over the years; almost 50 different designs in fact. In earlier years Ikea often just sold whatever stick chair models were on offer from their suppliers, but with time the company’s chairs came to be designed directly for them by designers such as Gillis Lundgren, Bengt Ruda, Erik Wörts, Karin Mobring, Tomas Jelinek and Nike Karlsson.
Production Processes: Continuity & Change
It should perhaps be said that, even if you read Swedish, “Träsmak” will not teach you how to build Swedish stick chairs; it primarily covers their company and design history. There are, however, some comparatively brief but quite interesting passages on how the work was and is done.
As already mentioned, the production context very quickly became factory based, and powered tools and machines have been involved from early on. As example, Palmquist quotes a newspaper article from 1884 on the stick chair industry in Jönköping, where at the time 20 manufacturers turned out some 60,000 chairs a year, and, according to the article, a machine for saddling seats had just come into use that could do in an hour what a skilled worker needed ten to achieve.
That said, a very interesting account by a certain Allvin Leo, who at 13 years old in 1943 began working at Hagafors Stolfabrik, on how chairs were made there back then makes it clear that many manual or semi-manual elements were still involved. He furthermore explains that the factory bought the timber as logs in the round, and did all further processing themselves, including air and kiln drying.
In fact, from Palmquist’s accounts of modern-day production at places like Stolab and Wigells, it is clear that although some parts of the process are now fully automated. Others, for example assembly, are still skilled jobs done pretty much the way it has always been done: with a hammer for assmebly (although compressed air lends a helping hand with pressing some parts together) and glue.
Swedish stick chair production has also seen its fair share of experimentation, not only with form but also with construction methods. The newspaper article from 1884 talks about how the machine processes led to chair parts being sufficiently interchangeable that chairs could be exported unassembled, thereby saving on both packaging, transport and tariff costs. From at least the 1940s, form-pressed veneer seats has been a way to save on chair weight and speed up production of certain designs. And legs screwed into seats or hardware has both helped production and permitted stick chairs to be (partially) flat-packed.
An Influential Chair & Its Many Children
Probably the most well-known Swedish stick chair of all times is Lilla Åland by Carl Malmsten, a chair that has been in continuous production at Stolab in Smålandsstenar since 1942.
On a visit to Finström Church in the Åland Islands with a group of his students, Malmsten spotted an old stick chair, which they went on to measure and make drawings of. The maker was unknown, but it most likely dated from the latter part of the 19th century, and was in all respects a typical Swedish Windsor-like stick back chair. While most of the actual work was done by one of the students, Sven-Erik Fryklund, then 18 years old, Malmsten supervised and signed off on the design, and eventually handed its manufacture to Stolab.
Then in 1950 Hagafors Stolfabrik began production of Haga, a variation on the design that was entirely by Fryklund’s hand, as was a later (1978) style updated and simplified as Bas (= Basic) for Kooperativa Förbundet, the Swedish Co-op Union.
And in 2010 Nirvan Richter was heavily influenced by both the Malmsten and Fryklund designs when he developed his Pinnstol that is produced by Wigells and sold by the Norrgavel furniture company.
To my mind, all four can be considered almost archetypes of the modern Swedish stick chair; this kind of chair is what I think of first when I hear the word pinnstol, and I suspect the same would be true for many Swedes today.
Concluding Comments
Although the above is but a brief summary of what is after all a book of 200+ pages, I hope it has given both a basic understanding of the book itself and, by extension, a potted history of the modern Swedish stick chair.
It may also have occurred to informed readers that the chairs in this book are not really stick chairs by the Lost Art Press definition, as they were and are factory made and mass produced. This is not a meant in a derogatory sense – just as a clarification. There is no mention in the book of any vernacular stick chair tradition in Sweden, before or during the time period covered. This does not exclude one having existed – staked construction techniques were certainly known and used – but that is not something that Palmquist sets out to explore. (A while back I wrote up some extremely limited research on the matter in a comment to a Klaus Skrudland post here on the blog; if ever I find the time, I’d love to pursue that line of inquiry.)
No matter your definition of “stick chair” though, “Träsmak” is a really interesting book, and well worth buying, even if you cannot or would struggle to read it. The photos are excellent and many, so it is a fantastic visual source of inspiration and ideas for things such as seat and comb shapes, stick configurations and ways to vary a theme. Not least a woodworker familiar with the American Windsor form would, I think, find much to glean from the similarity of difference (to coin an expression) between two forms with shared roots.
As mentioned above it is not a book of instruction, so some knowledge of how to make a stick chair would be needed for any inspiration to be practically applicable, but even just as something to browse through for the beauty of so many of the chairs I find it most worthwhile.
It is also a gorgeous book as such, with great graphic design, properly stitched signatures, a heavy-duty, half-cloth hard cover and nicely printed on good paper in the European Union.
Practical Details for Getting Hold of the Book
“Träsmak – En bok om svenska pinnstolar” is published by Historiska Media, a medium-sized independent Swedish publisher of books on history and cultural history. It first came out in 2018 and, at the time of writing, is still in print.
Historiska Media has a web shop, but only delivers to Sweden. Outside of Sweden, use the ISBN (978-91-7545-783-3) to order it through a local bookstore. (It might also be possible to arrange an inter-library loan through one’s local library; for the curious-but-less-inclined-to-buy, this possibility could be worth exploring.)
Nothing irritates me more than when I hire a tradesperson, and they spend most of the time criticizing the worker who was there before them.
When Lucy and I bought our first house, it had been essentially condemned. All utilities had been shut off. The old coal furnace had been tagged by the city as unlawful. And there were no HVAC ducts. Not much wiring. But lots of odd pipes.
When our kitchen sink stopped draining, I did everything my 25-year-old brain could manage. Then we called a plumber. He spent 30 minutes lambasting every fitting, fixture, elbow and what-not put below the sink by his priors.
“This is roughed in from roughsville,” he told us.
At the time, all I could think was: “I’m paying this guy $100 an hour for a historical critique of our sink?”
Later, as I started making furniture for a living, that sort of (P)artisan Attitude started to piss me off. I concluded that these guys were trying to establish superiority among their peers. Trying to convince me that they were the holders of the “True P-Trap” knowledge. And that I had called the right guy. (I say “guy” here because I have never had a woman tradesperson behave this way.)
Mostly, it convinced me that the tradesperson in question had some sort of Napoleon complex. And probably wasn’t a good fit for me.
The same thing happens in woodworking. But it’s weirder. Students ask us what we think of other professional woodworkers. Some are so bold as to say, “Give us some gossip. What do you think of Frank Klausz?” Others are sneakier. “Have you found David Charlesworth’s tertiary bevel to be effective?”
I’ll have none of it. I flat out refuse to criticize other woodworkers. Or their work. I don’t know why they do what they do. Maybe they were trained that way. Maybe their mother told them to hold a chisel like a pencil. It makes no difference – if it works.
Also, and this is important, I’m usually clueless as to what the student is trying to get from me. I try to read everything I can get my hands on about woodworking. So, I am up to date on the magazines and current books. But I don’t know diddly about the YouTubers and their techniques.
I don’t have time to watch 40-minute video episodes on making a firewood rack with a radical dadoing technique. Or a five-podcast arc on sharpening a “unicorn bevel.” I’ve got chairs to build so I can sell them and pay one daughter’s tuition bills and the other daughter’s wedding bills (and pay them gladly, I might add).
But maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way.
Back in the 1980s, Fine Woodworking magazine pitted the techniques of Frank Klausz (Hungarian-trained) versus Ian Kirby (British-trained). It seemed that every issue the two would go back and forth about how this one European technique was crap/genius or this British technique was superior/outhouse fodder.
Readers loved it.
Klausz told me years later that it was all a ruse. Like “kayfabe” in professional wrestling. Ian and Frank would talk on the phone about how to rile up the editors and the readers. Which meant more money and exposure for them.
Hey Megan! I think your dovetailing method sucks. Fight me.
— Christopher Schwarz
The following in excerpted from “Cut & Dried: A Woodworker’s Guide to Timber Technology,” by Richard Jones.
The author has spent his entire life as a professional woodworker and has dedicated himself to researching the technical details of wood in great depth, this material being the woodworker’s most important resource. The result is this book, in which Richard explores every aspect of the tree and its wood, from how it grows to how it is then cut, dried and delivered to your workshop.
Richard explores many of the things that can go right or wrong in the delicate process of felling trees, converting them into boards, and drying those boards ready to make fine furniture and other wooden structures. He helps you identify problems you might be having with your lumber and – when possible – the ways to fix the problem or avoid it in the future.
“Cut & Dried” is a massive text that covers the big picture (is forestry good?) and the tiniest details (what is that fungus attacking my stock?). And Richard offers precise descriptions throughout that demanding woodworkers need to know in order to do demanding work.
In order to design successful structures we furniture makers and other woodworkers need to develop some understanding of wood’s strength. It is common knowledge amongst experienced woodworkers that some woods are stronger than others; we quickly learn both European oak or American white oak are stronger than balsa wood, or ash is a better material for hammer shafts than European red pine, i.e., Scots pine. But the question to pose is, “What determines the strength of wood?” The answer lies in the material’s ability to resist stress, and the strain or deformation resulting from the stress along with the material’s ability, or inability, to recover its original form when, or if, the stress is removed. Both stress and strain are definable and measurable.
Stress, more precisely described as unit force, is the amount of force acting on a defined area; strength is the ability of a material to resist unit force. Stronger materials resist unit force better. It’s relatively easy to work out the unit force a bookshelf must resist. To do so, weigh the books carried by a shelf to establish the load (L) and calculate the shelf’s surface area (A). The numbers for the following sample calculations came from a convenient load of books on a shelf in my home.
• 42 books weighed on domestic scales = 32 kg (or 71 lbs). Shelf dimensions: 870 mm x 295 mm = 0.26 M² (or 34.25″ x 11.61″ = 2.76 ft²).
• To calculate the unit force (UF) applied to the shelf, divide the load (L) by the area (A) thus: L / A: therefore 32 kg / 0.26 sq m = 123.01 kg per sq m UF.
• Working in pounds and feet calculate: L / A: therefore 71 lb / 2.76 sq ft = 25.72 lb per sq ft UF. This can be converted to pounds per square inch (PSI) thus: 25.72 / 144 sq in = 0.18 PSI.
Engineers and scientists seek greater accuracy than the methodology used here of weighing with bathroom scales and rounding results to two decimal places, but the methodology and values used illustrate the principle. Additional calculations using the source data shows the shelf carries approximately 11.04 kg per 300 mm length, or approximately 24.69 lb per foot length. My experience is these numbers are typical; for many years I have used 25 lb per foot length or 11 kg per 300 mm length as standard bookshelf loading. There are exceptions furniture makers have to design for, but those exceptions are generally readily spotted, e.g., a request to create shelving for a collection of large-format art books immediately triggers a reaction that the shelving should be stronger. For example, you might use 18 mm thick solid oak instead of 18 mm thick oak veneered MDF, or extra reinforcement is necessary, or the shelf span should be shortened, or a combination of all three measures may the right solution.
It is possible, where necessary, to calculate the load beams are likely to experience in use, then to design for and build in enough strength for the intended load, plus an additional safety margin. Situations where woodworkers are most likely to recognise the necessity for such calculations are in the building or construction industry, e.g., safe loading of wooden floors and roof truss design. Indeed, there are calculations, formulae and standard load tables used by structural engineers to account for the load-bearing requirements of such structures.
Posts, such as music stands, easels, benches and table legs, chair legs, parasols and umbrellas, cabinet sides etc., all experience loads or stress. In many cases each individual leg in a chair is more than strong enough to carry the weight of a person; the design challenge for a one-legged pedestal chair is finding a way of supporting the pedestal so it doesn’t fall over when applying a downward load and, further, making it strong enough to cope with any torsional (twisting or rotational stress) and horizontal forces a pedestal chair leg must endure.
Stressed parts, i.e., loaded parts, experience strain and strained parts deform; strain is defined as unit deformation. If you lightly tap the surface of a piece of 50 mm- (2″-) thick wood with a hammer the wood directly under the hammer head compresses, i.e., the thickness reduces and this illustrates unit deformation. After a very gentle tap with a hammer, the wood will regain its original shape and form showing the wood is elastic and it can recover if not unduly stressed. Without controlled laboratory conditions it is hard to measure the amount of compression but under a light load as just described let us assume, for the purpose of an example, the unit deformation is 0.2 mm (0.00787 inches).
Calculating the unit deformation caused by the impact of the hammer head requires the sum: Dimensional Change / Original Dimension
Using the figures given in the hammer-tapping example, i.e., original plank thickness = 50 mm and the amount of compression = 0.2 mm the calculation is: 0.2 mm / 50 mm = 0.004 millimetre per millimetre (mm/mm). The end result is expressed here as millimetre per millimetre, meaning 0.004 millimetre (unit deformation) per millimetre (of thickness), the same proportion as 0.2 / 50. In reality the expression “millimetre per millimetre” is not necessary from an engineer’s perspective because the proportion of deformation, i.e., 0.004 to the original thickness of the piece of wood is the key information. The same rule applies when you work in any other unit of measure as long as the same units are used on both sides of the equation, e.g., inches divided by inches, metres divided by metres, miles divided by miles etc. The following sum uses inches but note the end result is still 0.004.
After converting the metric measurements used in the previous paragraph to three decimal places in inches, the sum and the result are: 0.008 in / 2 in = 0.004 inches per inch (in/in). Dimensional change is 0.004 inch per inch.
Returning now to hitting the wood with a hammer, tapping the surface of the wood harder and harder with the hammer will eventually lead to one of those blows leaving a noticeable and permanent dent in the wood. This rough and ready experiment demonstrates Hooke’s Law.
“Hooke’s Law states that the strain is proportional to the stress” (Kollman and Côté Jr., 1968, p 292). Further clarification of Hooke’s Law leads to saying in wood, in common with other materials, stress and strain are proportional up to a particular point. Specifically, that point is the proportional limit. Beyond the proportional limit of the material, increased stress leads to disproportionate strain, i.e., greater deformation, until the material reaches a stage where further stress leads to failure.
Another way of describing this phenomenon is, up to its proportional limit, a material exhibits elastic properties whereby applying a load causes it to deform, and on removing the load the material completely recovers. Beyond the proportional limit of a material, adding bigger loads causes the material to become plastic rather than elastic, and it cannot recover completely after removing the stress and eventually additional load causes the material to fail.
Within the elastic range of a material (up to its proportional limit) the ratio between applied stress and the resultant strain is a constant with this ratio being the modulus of elasticity (MOE), also known as Young’s Modulus. “[It] is a measure of … stiffness or rigidity. For a beam, the modulus of elasticity is a measure of its resistance to deflection” (Forest Products Laboratory, 1955, p 68). Figures 14.18 and 14.19 illustrate the proportional nature of strain in response to added stress where incrementally greater loads act on the centre point of a shelf. This kind of load is a static load.
A rubber band is another item illustrating Hooke’s Law. The law, in the following description, is demonstrated visually rather than measured scientifically. If you hold a rubber band between your fingers and stretch it gently followed by releasing the stress, it will recover its original shape. Successively increasing the strain stretches the band further, and a common visual sign the band is approaching its recoverable limit is increased whitening of the stretched rubber. As the band has to cope with increasing stress it loses the ability to recover and return to its original shape, and further stretching eventually causes the band to break.
The elastic band experienced a tension force that stretched it whereas the previous example, a plank of wood, experienced a compression force through being hit with a hammer head. In both cases the important point is the material experienced a stress (loading) resulting in strain. And in both cases the stress and strain are proportional up to a specific point; beyond that point increased stress leads to greater strain. Stress is a force that can act in more than one direction – stress may in fact occur in multiple directions at the same time, e.g., a part could simultaneously experience compression, tension, and shear stresses (see figure 14.24).
The strength of a material determines its ability to resist stress: an 18 mm- (3/4″-) thick oak book shelf 610 mm (24″) long is significantly stiffer than an MDF shelf of exactly the same dimensions. As a consequence, when both shelves are stressed by loading the same weight at their midpoint, the oak shelf exhibits less strain indicated by less deformation, i.e., it does not bend as much. In addition, the oak shelf is able to carry significantly more weight than the MDF shelf before it fails completely.
A simple static bending load experiment to demonstrate Hooke’s Law.
Static bending occurs under a constant load or when a load gradually increases. The set-up is a rudimentary partially fixed end beam with a knot-free softwood fence paling (picket) screwed down at both ends to span between the two sawhorses. The distance between the bottom of the paling and the ground was measured and noted. Concrete blocks, each weighing approximately 10 kg, were loaded onto the paling, and the distance between the paling and the ground measured. This was followed by removing the blocks, and a note of the distance between the ground and the paling taken again. The sequence was: Add one block, measure, remove the block and measure again; next, load two blocks, measure, remove the blocks, measure again, etc. The paling recovered to its original condition up to the point where adding and subsequently removing 9 blocks (~90 kg); this was the “proportional limit” of the material. Loading additional blocks led to greater bending of the paling under the load, and ever greater permanent distortion (permanent set) of the paling after removing the load. Complete failure of the paling occurred with a load of 13 blocks (~130 kg). This experiment did not represent true scientific testing; it is evident, for example, the outermost feet of the sawhorses had lifted off the ground in the middle image, which compromises the accuracy of measurements gathered. However, the accompanying graph, figure 14.23 derived from the experiment, illustrates Hooke’s Law reasonably effectively.
Apologies for intruding on your Sunday with commerce a second time. My daughter Katherie posted a batch of Soft Wax 2.0 in her store and I completely forgot to put something up on the blog. It’s here, just in time for waxing something before the holidays.
Notes on the finish: This is the finish I use on my chairs. I adore it. Katherine cooks it up here in the machine room using a waterless process. She then packages it in a tough glass jar with a metal screw-top lid. She applies her hand-designed label to each lid, boxes up the jars and ships them in a durable cardboard mailer. The money she makes from wax helps her make ends meet at college. Instructions for the wax are below. You can watch a video of how to use the wax here.
Instructions for Soft Wax 2.0
Soft Wax 2.0 is a safe finish for bare wood that is incredibly easy to apply and imparts a beautiful low luster to the wood.
The finish is made by cooking raw, organic linseed oil (from the flax plant) and combining it with cosmetics-grade beeswax and a small amount of a citrus-based solvent. The result is that this finish can be applied without special safety equipment, such as a respirator. The only safety caution is to dry the rags out flat you used to apply before throwing them away. (All linseed oil generates heat as it cures, and there is a small but real chance of the rags catching fire if they are bunched up while wet.)
Soft Wax 2.0 is an ideal finish for pieces that will be touched a lot, such as chairs, turned objects and spoons. The finish does not build a film, so the wood feels like wood – not plastic. Because of this, the wax does not provide a strong barrier against water or alcohol. If you use it on countertops or a kitchen table, you will need to touch it up every once in a while. Simply add a little more Soft Wax to a deteriorated finish and the repair is done – no stripping or additional chemicals needed.
Soft Wax 2.0 is not intended to be used over a film finish (such as lacquer, shellac or varnish). It is best used on bare wood. However, you can apply it over a porous finish, such as milk paint.
APPLICATION INSTRUCTIONS (VERY IMPORTANT): Applying Soft Wax 2.0 is so easy if you follow the simple instructions. On bare wood, apply a thin coat of soft wax using a rag, applicator pad, 3M gray pad or steel wool. Allow the finish to soak in about 15 minutes. Then, with a clean rag or towel, wipe the entire surface until it feels dry. Do not leave any excess finish on the surface. If you do leave some behind, the wood will get gummy and sticky.
The finish will be dry enough to use in a couple hours. After a couple weeks, the oil will be fully cured. After that, you can add a second coat (or not). A second coat will add more sheen and a little more protection to the wood.
Soft Wax 2.0 is made in small batches in Kentucky. Each glass jar contains 8 oz. of soft wax, enough for about five chairs.