“Make a Joint Stool from a Tree” is now available for sale at Classic Hand Tools Ltd. in the U.K. You can purchase the book (and other Lost Art Press books) using this link.
The price is £34.95.
In other foreign distribution news, Highland Hardware in Atlanta is also selling “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree.”
— Christopher Schwarz
One of the biggest benefits of leaving my job at Popular Woodworking Magazine – the best job I’ve ever had – is that I don’t have a 45-minute commute each day to the office.
I have not squandered that dividend of time. I have spent almost every minute of free time during the last 44 weeks in my workshop, building stuff or trying stuff.
Since December, I’ve been focused on finishing this Campaign Secretary for an article in Popular Woodworking. Yes, I see the irony. But the truth is that I couldn’t get much woodworking done while sitting in traffic. So I welcome the trade-off. Heck, I embrace it.
As I shot this short video this evening I couldn’t feel the irony, the fatigue or the loss. All I could feel is gratitude. It sounds sappy, but without the support of the 4,000 Lost Art Press customers I’d be heating up cans of beans by the railroad track.
So to everyone who has bought one of our books since 2007, let me say thanks. You are the ones who have given me an extra 165 hours of time since June 2011. And your dollars have also gone to directly support the craftsmanship of Robert Wearing, Jennie Alexander and Peter Follansbee.
So this video is for you.
— Christopher Schwarz
The two most difficult things to photograph in woodworking are plow planes and joint stools.
With plow planes there is not a single good angle that shows everything about the tool: the fence, the tote, the skate and the cutting action. With 17th-century joint stools, the problem is of parallax.
The four legs (or stiles) are angled in one direction but not another. As a result, when you take a photograph of the stool, the laws of parallax and perspective conspire to make the joint stool look all kinds of wrong. Sometimes the front legs look straight and the rear legs look hopelessly angled. Other times the whole stool looks like it is going to fall off the edge of the earth.
With a standard camera, it takes a lot of fussing and fooling to turn this gorgeous three-dimensional object into an equally gorgeous two-dimensional object.
Today I received a joint stool that I had purchased from Peter Follansbee. Wait, let me restate that. I purchased the awesome joint stool that is on the cover of “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree” by Jennie Alexander and Follansbee. I bought the stool for two reasons. One, I really like to support craftsmen I admire. Two, I wanted to have a joint stool to show customers when we are out selling the new book “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree.”
I’ve had a hard time explaining how cool joint stools are to customers when showing them the book. Having a joint stool makes that easy. This thing is awesome. If you are coming to the Lie-Nielsen show in Chicago on April 20-21 then you can experience this for yourself. I’m going to bring the joint stool so you can get your hands and eyes on it.
After I unwrapped the joint stool today, my daughter Katy was all over it. She’s actually sitting on it right now while playing Rock Band. While she was looking it over, I pulled out my camera and shot the following short video segment.
It’s hard to impress a 10-year-old girl. But Peter’s joint stool really did. And when you see this thing in person I have no doubt you’ll want to build one for yourself.
— Christopher Schwarz
A lot of grown men ask me about my drawers. And though it should make me uncomfortable, I am happy to chat about my unusual-looking tail. Where did it come from? What’s it good for?
At the front of the drawer I use a half-tail at the bottom edge of the drawer side. Then I lay out and cut full tails above this half tail. And I always use a full tail at the top of the drawer.
I didn’t make this arrangement up. It’s a layout I’ve found on many English chests I’ve seen while hunting in antique stores for the last 20 years. The asymmetrical layout gives you some advantages, and it reduces the risk of things blowing up on you when you assemble your drawer. The only disadvantage? The layout is a tiny bit more complex – something I don’t even notice anymore.
The primary advantage is that you get a little more space in your drawer. By putting a half-tail at the bottom, you can sink a groove in that tail that will put your drawers bottom at the very bottom of the assembled drawer.
Yes, you can place the bottom’s groove at the bottom of the drawer if you put a full tail very near the bottom of the drawer. I’ve found that when I do this there’s a good chance that the half pin at the bottom will break out, especially if I’m going for a tight fit with my dovetails or working with woods that don’t compress much.
Another approach is to use full tails on the drawer – no half-tails – and then insert the bottom using drawer slips, which are little grooved strips of wood glued inside the drawer. That solution adds steps to the process and at least two extra parts to your assembly. Don’t get me wrong, I like drawer slips.
One more note: This half tail can also have a flat slope and look like a finger joint instead of a dovetail. That’s historically correct as well.
Hope you’ve enjoyed the quick tour of my drawers. Gift shop is to the left.
— Christopher Schwarz
At the present day it may be fairly claimed that machines have supplanted hand labour in working wood.
Year by year improvements have gone on, until bench work and hand skill have become comparatively unimportant elements in wood manufacture; and, as Professor Willis remarked before the Society of Arts, 1852, “nothing remains to be done, but to put the component parts together.” None, except those who have learned their trades when and where machines were not used, can realize this change.
You may tell the apprentice of to-day about going out through the snow to a board-pile, selecting your stuff, carrying it in, and after scraping off the snow in winter, or sweeping off the dust in summer, laying out the stuff with a chalkline, and straight-edge, ripping out the job by hand, setting it about the stove to dry, and then dressing it up with a jack plane. You may tell him of mortising by hand, cutting tenons and shoulders, with a backsaw, and he will look at you with an incredulous stare.
No wonder; for this sort of thing has passed away, and with it, we are happy to say, some of the hardest labour that ever was dignified with the name of mechanical. It was mechanical, nevertheless, and called for the continual exercise of judgment and skill; from the cutting out to the cleaning off, it was a kind of race between brains and muscle, in which brains sometimes conquered.
Many a time, as older hand workmen will remember, would a small man, without that muscular strength that seemed to be the main element in his work, have earned his dollar or two dollars more at the end of the week than his strongest competitor, simply by his superior hand skill, superior judgment, and superior tools.
— John Richards, “On the Arrangement, Care, and Operation of Wood-working Factories and Machinery, Forming a Complete Operator’s Handbook” (1873) Hat-tip to Jeff Burks for the tip on the book.