Before “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree” was a book, it was a workshop that Jennie Alexander and I taught a few times. The first session was 1991 at Drew Langsner’s Country Workshops. We had 12 students – several from the museum world, a few woodworkers and some innocent victims. Alexander and I used to duck out to the porch outside the shop and whisper, “What do we do next?” It was a free-for-all – especially when it came to the turned decoration on the stiles. A few students took the plunge and turned their stiles, a few made stopped chamfers and another batch made shaved “turned” decoration.
When we got around to actually finishing the book, I opted to use only the shaved/stopped chamfers as the “alternate” decoration for stiles. One of the reasons the book took us ages to complete is that we always tried to put everything we knew in it – so finally I left stuff out and got it done.
Today I made a sample stile with decoration that mimics or at least follows the turned patterns, but is cut using only a saw and some chisels. I used a spokeshave a bit, too. We find these forms from time to time on 17th-century examples, so if you’re ready to make a stool, and the turned work is intimidating, here’s a simple alternative.
I used a square and awl to line out the demarcations for the collar, bevel etc., then cut in with a backsaw at a few of these lines. You can use a marking gauge to help define the depth of these saw cuts. I started to, but then I just eyeballed it.
After making the saw cuts, the next step is to chop down to these kerfs with the chisel. Work alternately between bevel down, bevel up, hand-pressure and mallet work. I found it helpful on this, my-first-one-ever, to keep rotating the stile on the bench, working each face in succession. Must be from years of turning these things… .
The stile shown is a simple version, somewhat based on some northern Massachusetts chairs of the mid-17th century. I have seen more elaborate examples that have “coves,” “beads,” “collars” and more – just like turned work.
— Peter Follansbee
Editor’s note: Be sure to check out Peter’s blog for more on joint stools, 17th-century joinery and bird photography.
Anyone who has been to my shop knows that I have a deep affection for the handplanes made by Wayne Anderson. His planes perform as well as any I have ever used – no matter the price – and his aesthetic matches mine.
Wayne’s planes are inspired by the gorgeous work of the past, but he doesn’t copy old designs, and he never seems to make the same plane twice.
I first became aware of Wayne’s work about 10 years ago through the Mid-West Tool Collectors Association, and I followed it closely until I had the guts to meet him at a tool meet in 2004. After seeing his work in person, I placed an order for an improved miter with an ebony infill.
That tool was the first of several planes that I’ve asked him to build for me. They are, without a doubt, the most gorgeous things I own.
Because of my former position at Popular Woodworking Magazine and my many blabberings about handplanes, I get asked the following question every week or two: Are infill planes worth the money?
The answer is difficult. I can make a Lie-Nielsen, Veritas, Clifton or vintage Stanley plane perform as well as an infill. But infill planes have a set of characteristics unique only to them that I like. For example, my favorite infill is short (5-5/8” long x 1-7/8” wide), coffin-shaped, has a high-pitched iron (60°) with no chipbreaker or blade adjuster. In other words, it’s a lot like an old wooden plane. But unlike a wooden plane, it has significant mass and a steel sole that never needs to be trued.
It is far more comfortable to hold than a No. 2-sized Bailey plane. And its mass isn’t so significant that it feels like you are pushing a collapsed star across your bench. It weight 2 lbs. 2 oz., which is between the Lie-Nielsen Nos. 1 and 2. It’s perfect for my style of general furniture work.
The plane I’m describing is a small ebony-infilled plane that Anderson made for me in 2006. I call this my “plane of last resort” because it just refuses to leave tear-out in its wake, no matter how sharp or dull the tool is.
In fact, the tool needs to come with a warning label. If you pick it up and use it, you will want one. Just ask Megan Fitzpatrick or any of my students who have casually picked it out of my tool chest. Larry Williams of Old Street Tool calls this phenomenon “Infill Disease.” Larry is fully recovered from the affliction. I, however, am not.
So yes, having an infill in your tool chest is a nice thing. Plus, regardless of how it performs, it’s nice to own something handmade – a feeling that many woodworkers, my family and customers share.
As those of you who have read “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” know, I sold off or gave away most of my tools a couple summers ago, and the infills I had collected for review in Popular Woodworking and The Fine Tool Journal were no exception. Those tools are now in the hands and tool chests of good friends and comrades.
But there are a couple infills that I would never even consider parting with. One is the small smoother from Wayne. The other is a small boxwood miter from Raney Nelson.
What is it about this smoother that makes me so attached to it? Well, beyond its size and perfect weight, it’s the details that Wayne pours into every tool. The mouth of the tool is made in two pieces, like an infill miter plane, which ensured that the plane’s throat aperture is just slightly bigger than the shavings. Also, Wayne files a small (1/16” x 1/16”) bevel on the front edge of the sole. This is a modification I make to my own planes, through with much less precision and style. The bevel protects the sole from damage when you run into something hard (nail, knot etc.). The bevel takes the damage and – generally – prevents the damage from then scarring your work.
But beyond these functional characteristics, the tool is just a joy to look at and use. The tombstone shape of the top of the 1-1/2”-wide iron. The perfectly pillowed ebony infills. The lines of the sidewalls, lever cap and ivory nipple (there’s no other word I’m afraid) on the screw.
I also like the patina the tool has developed during the last six years. I was actually a little ticked off when a photographer burnished off the patina a few years ago to make it look shiny and new. I had to start over.
In any case, I had a long-overdue chat with Wayne last week about some web-site stuff and he mentioned that his lead times have dwindled this year significantly. While you used to have to wait two years for Wayne to get to your tool, he’s now only about a month out on orders.
So if you’ve ever wanted a Wayne Anderson plane, now is a great time. Drop him an e-mail at wayne@andersonplanes.com.
You might have to get in line behind me. My conversation with Wayne reminded me that I was going to get him to build me a Roman-style plane to test a few theories I have about early Western woodworking.
The August 2012 issue of Popular Woodworking Magazine is in the mail to subscribers – I received mine yesterday – and it features my campaign secretary on the cover.
This fact failed to impress my children – even when the news was accompanied by a flirty little dance.
In any case, if you aren’t a subscriber, the issue will be on newsstands in a few weeks and the digital edition will be available for purchase and download on Saturday, June 30, at ShopWoodworking.com. The article that accompanies the project isn’t your typical Tab A into Slot B story. Yes, there is construction information in the article. But my goal was more to show you how to design one for yourself using the joinery, materials and typical dimensions of campaign chests.
Yeah, I know that’s kind of weird. But it’s the kick I’ve been on for a few years now. Plus, after 12 months, 14 days and 31 minutes after leaving my job, I can now let my freak flag fly.
However, I know that there are some woodworkers who would appreciate a very detailed drawing of the campaign secretary, and so I am offering it for a free download from the 3D Warehouse. It’s a SketchUp file, so you’ll need that free program to view and manipulate the file. Click here to download SketchUp (it’s free). Click here to download the file for the campaign secretary.
I’d also like to take a moment to answer the No. 1 question from readers who have studied the article and my photos: What the heck is that screw for on the side of the top drawer/gallery? Here’s a photo.
The screw shown in the photo is a temporary one – I replaced it with a nice No 10 brass screw after the finish was on. But what is it for? Simple, it holds the sides of the gallery to the desktop. Without the screw, the sides will flop about because they aren’t glued to anything except the back of the gallery.
Still confused?
OK, let’s back up a minute. The cubbyholes are a separate assembly that just slides into the gallery. Ignore them. Forget them. Here, in this illustration I’ve removed them.
What’s left? It’s a drawer without a drawer front. The sides are connected to the back with through-dovetails. The drawer bottom (i.e. the desktop) is in a groove in the sides. Here’s a shot of the drawer bottom in the groove in the sides.
The drawer bottom/desktop is connected to the sides with a single beefy screw through the side and into the bottom/desktop. We need this screw because the drawer front (which is the fall-front of the desk) is attached using hinges – not half-blind dovetails like a traditional drawer. And you can’t glue the bottom/desktop into the groove because it’s a wicked-bad cross-grain construction. So you need a screw.
If you build this project you will find out the solution for yourself, even if you don’t quite grasp it yet.
Just keep muttering to yourself: “I need two screws. I need two screws.” That will fix your problem – and make you some nice new friends at the grocery store.
The latest T-shirt design from Lost Art Press is now available in 100-percent lightweight cotton and made completely in the United States.
The front of the shirt features the compass from Joseph Moxon’s “Mechanick Exercises,” which is our company’s symbol. The back of the shirt features the slogan: “Cutting Deals Since 1678.” What’s the joke? (Hint: “Deal” is an old word for dimensional softwood.)
The shirts come in navy blue and are printed on American Apparel shirts made in Los Angeles. We’ve been experimenting with these shirts during the last few years and have concluded they are even more durable than the heavyweight imported T-shirts we’ve used in years past. Plus, these American Apparel shirts are lighter in weight (less sweating), more breathable and less scratchy.
Switching to a USA-made shirt increased our costs by $1 compared to the imported shirts, but I think you’ll say, “I’ll buy that for a dollar” when you put it on. Shirts in size medium, large and XL are $16. XXL shirts, as always, cost $2 more.
The shirts are a deep navy blue, but they look almost black on some computer monitors. Trust us, they are blue.
To see the shirts in our store or purchase one, click here.
We are finishing up work on Matt Bickford’s “Mouldings in Practice” book this week. It should be off to the printer next week and – barring any wackiness – in stock by the end of July or early August.
First some details on the book and then a warning.
Details. We could have called this “Matt’s Big Book of Mouldings.” It is big. It’s going to be in a 7” x 10” format with more than 250 pages of text, photos and illustrations. And it’s the illustrations that are key. Matt drew more than 200 mouldings in process to show exactly what is going on at each stage.
The book is divided into two major sections. The first is on the moulding planes themselves – how to tune and sharpen them. Then Matt goes on to explain how to lay out and execute the rabbets and chamfers that will create the desired profile.
Wait, rabbets and chamfers? Indeed. We could have called this “Matt’s Big Book of Mostly Rabbets and Chamfers.” These two basic shapes are the key to creating consistent results. There are also chapters on plow planes, side rounds and snipes bills, and their role in making mouldings.
The second section of “Mouldings in Practice” takes eight high-style period pieces and deconstructs the mouldings on them and shows you how to make them, step by step. Matt studied these pieces at Nathan Liverant and Son Antiques in Colchester, Conn. This part of the book is nearly 80 pages long and is very cool. It’s one thing to talk about sample mouldings. It’s another thing to work with the real-deal stuff.
There are also some appendices on sticking boards, capturing moulding shapes from existing pieces and dealing with antique planes. And (wait for it) an index.
Like all Lost Art Press books, this will be produced and printed entirely in the United States. Acid-free paper. Smythe-sewn binding. Cotton-covered hardbound. All the drawings will be in full-color. The photos are black and white. We don’t have a retail price yet – probably less than $40. We will offer pre-orders with free shipping and a bonus digital download (more details on that later). We do not know which (if any) of our retailers will carry the book yet.
Now the warning.
If you’ve been looking for hollows and rounds in preparation for this book, you might have had some trouble. Ed Lebetkin, who runs the shop above The Woodwright’s School, reports that he cannot keep certain sizes in stock because of the high demand.
Likewise, there is going to be some strong demand to take classes from Matt himself. He’ll be teaching his methods at three places this summer. Here are some links. If you want to get a jump-start on this part of the craft, the book and some instruction from Matt are a fantastic way to go.
