I haven’t had a public email address for many years, and that has been good for my productivity and sanity. But readers do have legitimate questions about my work, and so they usually try to get to me through Megan or our customer service account.
And so Megan and everyone else has to answer questions or ask me for help answering oddball questions.
I’ve never been happy about this arrangement, either.
So starting this Saturday (tomorrow!), I am going to try an experiment. I’ll post a blog entry in the morning calling for questions. You can post your questions in the comments. I’ll answer them. Then I’ll close the comments about 5 p.m.
Then I’ll do the same thing every Saturday until you run out of questions or I get sick of the process.
You can ask anything. But I reserve the right to ignore questions that are rude, insane or too personal. (No, I’m not wearing Lucy’s underwear….)
It will come as no surprise to those who know me that I got distracted by other work…and that I forgot it takes me five times longer (at least) to do things with a camera pointed at me than when no one is watching. And that is why the video I promised a few weeks back on kitting out the interior of an “Anarchist’s Tool Chest” is taking a bit longer than expected. But with Wally’s help, we’re nearing the finish line. (A special thanks to its soon-to-be owner for bearing with the delays.)
The video will feature: • installing the till runners • a brief look at dovetailing the three tills (goodness knows if you’ve built this chest, you know how to cut dovetails!) • fitting the till bottoms to the runners • installing a moulding plane till at the back • making and installing a hanging hole-y rack with slots behind it for backsaws • making and installing a saw till for larger handsaws • notes on finishing the interior • tips on fitting the lid • hardware installation, including hinges, chest lifts, ring pulls and a “crab lock” • caster installation • surprisingly few cats (unless we add then in post production).
Chris plans to start editing at the end of next week, and he’s fast – so it should be available soon thereafter. Below are a few pictures I snapped during the process.
The following is excerpted from “Woodworking in Estonia,” by Ants Viires; translation by Mart Aru.
It’s one of Roy Underhill’s three favorite woodworking books, but you can’t buy a copy of it for love or money. Translated into English without the author’s permission in the late 1960s, “Woodworking in Estonia” has been a cult classic ever since it first surfaced.
It is, according to Underhill, “one of the best books on folk woodworking ever” and covers the entire woodworking history of this small Northern European nation from pre-historical times through occupation by the Germans and Soviets up through Estonian independence.
The author, Ants Viires, devoted his life to recording the hand-tool folkways of his country without a shred of romanticism. Viires combined personal interviews and direct observation of work habits with archaeological evidence and a thorough scouring of the literature in his country and surrounding nations.
If all this sounds like a dry treatise, it’s not. “Woodworking in Estonia” is an important piece of evidence in understanding how our ancestors worked wood and understood it more intimately than we do. Viires records in great detail everything from the superstitions surrounding the harvesting of wood (should you whistle in the forest?) to detailed descriptions of how the Estonians dried the wood, bent it, steamed it and even buried it in horse dung to shape it for their needs.
Lost Art Press spent more than two years bringing this book back to life. We contacted the author before his death in 2015 to secure rights for the first authorized English translation. Using the 1996 Estonian edition of the Estonian book, we commissioned a new English translation.
We also obtained the rights to the original photos and drawings. The 1969 unauthorized translation used poorly reproduced images, likely mimeographs, which were murky and dark. This edition contains more than 240 crisp, original photos and line drawings.
The use of the plane presumes a base on which the item being planed is fastened. For a long time a simple low working bench, in Avinurme, “tööjärg” (Fig. 56) served for this and on which also other woodwork was done. In places such benches are still used, particularly in Avinurme or elsewhere where home industry has persevered. The older generation throughout the country still remembers planing on the simple bench. The typical Avinurme workbench has two holes at one of its ends, and the board to be planed is fastened either against or between pegs driven in these holes, so that the person planing sits astride on the bench (Fig. 57). In other places there is often only one stick at the end of the bench. Mostly there are two holes next to each other near the middle of the bench and the board is fastened on the bench so it is possible to plane the edge of the board (Fig. 58). Sometimes there is a square hole in the center for the inverted wedge when holding the plane steady and jointing the edge of a board (see Fig. 94).
So the carpenter’s bench (“höövlipink,” also “kruupink, tisleripink, puusepa pink”) as we know it today is no older that two or three centuries. It became known in the village later still, and its actual appearance can be placed within living memory of the older generation, i.e. at the end of the 19th century. Of course, there may have been estate carpenters who had acquired benches somewhat earlier, even a century or more. The rapid development of village cabinetmaking in the second half of the 19th century brought the bench into the village. The story of carpenter Juhan Kaseoks (born 1866) of Keila is characteristic:
“I didn’t have a carpenter’s bench earlier. About 30 years later [1910] there was a little more. Ikmelt Jaan’s father, whose name was Prits, he made the first one. His father was as a very good carpenter. He even started to sell them. Masters bought them from him. I was working at the manor, I naturally had one too. My father-in-law, Maerus, did that work, and he had one too. But households didn’t have them. There was a bench instead of it.”
After the example of carpenter’s benches people from villages started to build at first simpler benches. So, for example, people remember how they provided an end screw to an ordinary low bench. An old-style carpentry product, a planing bench now preserved at the Estonian National Museum (Fig. 60), uses natural branches of the tree skillfully applied in critical functions. Also a bench with screws represented a certain stage of development. Kusta Sinijärv (born 1866) of Karja remembers: “In my childhood we already had a real carpenter’s bench with a screw. At first it had one screw, with one screw at one end. But now the bench has two screws, with one screw also at the side. The side screw came there about 50 years ago [ca. 1900]. An older planing bench (with a side screw) but without a lower drawer has been shown in Fig. 59.
So the carpenter’s bench developed into a generally obligatory carpentry tool. Only the Avinurme woodworkers who make wooden containers still use the old benches. Chairmaking joiners in Avinurme, however, use the up-to-date joiner’s bench.
We have our first batch of 1:4 Dovetail Templates available for immediate shipment. They are $51 plus shipping. Made in Nicholasville, Ky., by Machine Time.
The 1:4 slope is my favorite. I use it for all my dovetail joints, both in hardwood and softwood. It’s bolder than the 1:6 and 1:8 slopes on our other template (also $51). All these slopes work just fine. It is a matter of aesthetics.
This tool is based on a version of it that was given to me by an Australian reader during my work in Melbourne in March 2013. I used the heck out of that tool; other makers saw it and made their own versions (which is totally alright with me).
Our version is simpler than the original. It is milled from a single block of steel (all the waste is recycled). And some of its components are a bit thinner, which I prefer.
Measurements and details about the tool are here. If the tool sells out, definitely get on the waiting list to be notified because we have another big batch on the way.
This lowback stick chair is made using a stash of old Honduras mahogany I have been sitting on since writing “Campaign Furniture.” The mahogany had been sitting for decades at Midwest Woodworking until they closed a few years back. This chair is made from one single board, so the color is consistent throughout all its parts.
This lowback design and my Gibson chair are the two most comfortable chairs I make. The chair offers excellent lumbar support for hours of sitting, relaxing or working. The seat is 16-3/4” off the floor. Overall, it is 28” tall, 28” wide and 22” deep.
The chair is finished with two coats of garnet shellac plus black wax. All the joints are assembled with hide glue and oak wedges so the chair can be easily repaired by future generations.
The chair’s design comes from “The Stick Chair Book” but with some small variations. The arm is made with five pieces (instead of four) to reduce wood-movement). Plus, this mahogany chair features hexagonal legs and old-style hands, which fits in with the wood and its deep scarlet finish.
The chair is $1,600 and is being sold via a random drawing. To enter, send an email to lapdrawing@lostartpress.com before 3 p.m. (Eastern) on Wednesday, March 29. In the email, please use the subject line “March lowback” and include your name, shipping address and phone number (this is used for a trucking quote only). The winner will be contacted on Wednesday after the drawing closes.
On shipping: You can pick up the chair at our storefront, or I will deliver it for free within 100 miles of Cincinnati. Otherwise, I can ship it via common carrier to addresses in the continental U.S. This usually costs between $200 and $300, depending on where you live.