I am pleased to announce that Eleanor Underhill is making the drawings for the new book from Jennie Alexander and Peter Follansbee that is titled “Make a Joint Stool from a Tree.”
Eleanor is indeed the daughter of Roy Underhill – proud father — and the illustrator for her father’s latest book: “The Woodwright’s Guide.” It is Eleanor’s skilled hand that drafted all the illustrations in Roy’s latest book – my favorite, by the way. And one of the reasons I adore this book is that the illustrations harmonize with all the text.
So when we were choosing an illustrator for “Make a Joint Stool From a Tree,” Eleanor was the natural and obvious choice. We considered lots of other illustrators, but once Eleanor’s work was passed around, it was a done-deal.
She has been a joy to work with on these illustrations, which are remarkably challenging. Not only do they need to show the forms correctly, they also need to show the grain in a way that is not distracting and is accurate for riven oak stock.
So things have, at times, gotten weird. At Jennie’s suggestion, Peter sent Eleanor some stool parts in the mail, which always results in raised eyebrows from a postal carrier. And the discussions about the illustrations have devolved into an intense debate about medullary rays and how to draw them.
In any case, please welcome Eleanor to the team. And rest assured we are fast closing in on a press date for “Make a Stool from a Tree.” More details to come this week.
It’s almost impossible not to mention the name “John Brown” when you discuss anarchism and woodworking.
And yet, somehow I managed to do this.
John was the author of a column in the British magazine Good Woodworking in the 1990s that was titled “The John Brown Column” and later “The Anarchist Woodworker.”
When I was managing editor at Popular Woodworking in the late 1990s, I read John’s columns every month. The logo of the column – a guy holding a lit bomb – was arresting. John himself was intent on sticking it to the woodworking establishment, and he shunned machinery in favor of hand tools at every turn, which is how he built his bench, shop and the Welsh Stick chairs he sold.
When I first read John’s columns, I was still deeply in love with my table saw, planer, jointer and router. But his Welsh Stick chairs absolutely blew my mind. Since the moment I saw them, I became obsessed with building chairs that looked as masculine and animalistic as his.
In the late 1990s, John wasn’t teaching classes in the United States anymore, so I sought out David Fleming in Cobden, Ontario, to teach me about the Welsh Stick form during a week-long class. Then I took a second week-long class with Don Weber to refine my skills and learn new techniques in building the Welsh Stick form.
John’s book, “Welsh Stick Chairs,” is one of my prize possessions, and I hope someday to have his eye for form when it comes to building Welsh Stick chairs. “Chairman Brown,” as his fans called him, is part of every chairmaking operation I know.
But there was more to John Brown than just a chairmaker.
His column in Good Woodworking was a diary at times. He sought to rebuild a new life as a hand craftsman in a machine-based society. He built and outfitted his shop, and the entire process was covered in the pages of Good Woodworking. He advocated using fewer tools and both eschewed and ridiculed machinery (and turners, by the by).
The last time I read John’s columns was in 2004 and 2006 as I was assembling a data base of quotations for Woodworking Magazine, which I was editing. After 2006, I stowed my photocopies of his columns in my shop cabinet, where they sit until today.
Why? When I’m writing any book, I refuse to read books by other authors, famous or obscure. It’s a painful choice because I love to read (I’m not writing right now so I’ve got three novels on my Kindle). But I know how easy it is to be influenced by clever writers. So I try to sequester my brain as much as possible.
So here’s the painful part.
This week, Brown’s editor, Nick Gibbs, mentioned that he was surprised that I didn’t mention John Brown anywhere in “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.” To be honest, I’m surprised as well. John was the first person I know of who married the word “anarchist” with “woodworking.” And that stroke of genius either planted seeds in my brain or fertilized them when I wrote my book.
But I can honestly say that I have no idea if John Brown’s version of anarchy matches mine. I kinda doubt it – anarchists are a fractious bunch – and I haven’t looked at his columns for five years now. But I can say this: I am amending the dedication to the next printing of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” to acknowledge my debt to the path that he blazed in the 1990s.
I don’t know if he would have liked my book – I rather doubt it – but he’s a part of it now.
Thanks to Nick – now the the editor of British Woodworking and Living Woods magazines – for pointing out my oversight. And I’d like to cast my vote for a reprinting of Chairman Brown’s columns in the coming years, whether I’m involved or not.
One of the things I enjoy about visiting my father in Charleston, S.C., is you are always walking distance from stunning furniture from all over the world and across several centuries.
I spent this morning collecting images, details and dimensions for my next book and stumbled into a store I’d never been in before. It specializes in furniture from the West and East Indies – specifically campaign furniture.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved campaign furniture – my grandparents had several pieces – and I’ve always wondered why it wasn’t a popular style among woodworkers. It’s manly, simple, robust and (generally) well proportioned.
The store’s owner has been importing it into Charleston for about 15 years and showed me a lot of construction details I hadn’t yet considered, such as how examples that used teak as a secondary wood were much more likely to be the real deal. Teak is quite bug-resistant. Dovetail joinery that didn’t rely on hide glue was a good thing because of the wetness, heat and bugs that would eat the hide glue.
If someone else doesn’t pick up this idea and run with it, campaign furniture might be a book in my future. Earlier this year I proposed a campaign chest project to Popular Woodworking Magazine – I haven’t gotten a “yes” or “no” yet. Perhaps these photos will sway Megan.
You can now download the ePub edition of “The Essential Woodworker” by Robert Wearing in a completely DRM-free format for your iPad, iPhone or other electronic reader that supports .epub files.
Click here to visit our store and purchase the ePub edition for $10.
A Kindle edition of “The Essential Woodworker” is in the works and will be released shortly.
The ePub version of the book follows the format and layout of “The Essential Woodworker” version published by Lost Art Press. We reset the entire book in a classic typeface, incorporated changes from Mr. Wearing and laid out the book in a classic 6” x 9” format.
This is an authorized reprint by Mr. Wearing. With every purchase of the electronic or physical version of the Lost Art Press book, significant royalties go to Mr. Wearing.
In our opinion, “The Essential Woodworker” is one of the best books on hand-tool usage written in the post-Charles Hayward era. Wearing was classically trained in England as a woodworker and embraced both power and hand tools in his shop and in his teaching.
The book “The Essential Woodworker” was written to remedy the lack of fundamental hand-tool knowledge in the post-World War II woodworker. While Wearing discusses basics such as sharpening and tool use in the book, the true genius of the book is in how Wearing shows you how to apply all the tools and processes to actually build things.
He begins with a table. As you read the chapter on building a table, Wearing connects the dots for the hand-tool user by showing how all the tools are used in concert to produce accurate work. It’s not just about sawing a tenon or planing an edge. Instead, it is about how to gather these skills and apply them to building furniture – tables, doors, carcases, dovetailed drawers, plinths etc.
The book is filled with more than 500 hand-drawn illustrations by Wearing that explain every operation in a hand-tool shop. His illustrations are properly drafted, drawn in perspective and masterfully clear.
For a tutorial on how to manually add a book to your iPod or iPhone, view this tutorial on our blog. It’s easy.
“We shall find, therefore, that it is not in the realization of these ends, but in the struggle to attain them, that anarchism is of service to society.”
— Eunice Minette Schuster, “Native American Anarchism,” page 11