Lost Art Press

Thank You for Writing ‘The Anarchist’s Tool Chest’

Posted on by Lost Art Press

Ah, reviews. I am on both sides of this particular coin. I have to both administer them and receive them.

As far as reviews of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” go, I have been struck by how many people are taking me to task on the technical details when the overall message of the book was what caused me endless agony.

Today I received an e-mail from a reader that is typical of what individual readers send me. It is the reason I wrote the book. Here goes. This is from reader Adam Godet:

“I hesitated to buy ‘The Anarchist’s Tool Chest’ …I’m not sure why. The first time I read the description on the web page, I thought, ‘400 pages of tool descriptions and instructions on building a box…and an argument not to buy more tools?! No thanks.’

“I’m not sure what changed my mind, but I’m grateful for it. The descriptions of necessary tools woodworkers should have and the appropriate attributes of them will be an invaluable reference for me (and others, I’m sure) as I build my tool set (not a collection).

“What I liked more about the book, was the anarchism argument. Although I never thought of it as anarchy, it’s a value system to which my wife and I have subscribed to for years. Ever since I got of out college and built my first crappy pine bookcases (which I submit are less crappy than the Ikea alternative I could have afforded at the time, since mine have survived five moves), to growing our own vegetables and making our own curtains and curtain rods, we’ve been living it.  There is a fierce and fulfilling independence in making/growing what we need…and living outside of the corporate/government structure…and rejecting purchases intended to be thrown away…so yeah, kinda like anarchy.

“Your argument on time vs. money gave me serious pause (as in, I lost sleep thinking about life after reading the section). That, and some of the other ethics sections are some of my favorite passages of anything I’ve read in a long time. It’s books like these that reinforce my rejection of fast-food, consumer culture and embrace the craftsman ethos. Unfortunately, it seems you’re the David fighting the consumerist Goliath…but unlike the parable, you’re building an army, and I (along with others, it seems) have enlisted.

“Finally, I finished the book about a week ago, but keep laughing to myself repeating some of the phrases from the book, such as, ‘poop a cupcake.’

“That is not to say I don’t have some complaints about the book:

“1. Reading this book is addictive…and it makes me want to go to my shop and work; but I want to keep reading the book too…this creates an internal conflict, and I blame you.

“2. Where was this book two years ago when I started down this woodworking path? When I was searching for quality hand tools, found garbage, and submitted (briefly) to the power tool vortex of noise and dust?

“3. I’ve lost about 4 hours of sleep this week staying up reading and thinking about this book.

“4. More and more I want to quit my cube-dwelling job and make stuff full-time. It’s not realistic for me yet…but one day, maybe I’ll have the skills and knowledge to cut loose.

“Thank you for an excellent resource, for reminding me and others that we need not subscribe to popular, unhealthy habits, and for an entertaining book. I look forward to future Lost Art Press publications.”

— Adam Godet

Sometimes Temptation Comes from Above

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Roy Underhill’s woodworking school is a magical place, where the Works Progress Administration still builds beautiful stone bridges and Care Bears poop gumdrops.

But upstairs from the school is a place of great temptation. Many a woodworker has gone up there with money in the bank and come down with armloads of pre-Industrial Revolution objects. Yes, on the floor above Roy’s The Woodwright’s School is Ed Lebetkin’s Antique Woodworking Tools store.

He’s open when Roy’s class is in session, and it is a wonderland of rust and beech and brass.

Aside from the hundreds of moulding planes, bench planes and joinery planes on the walls, Ed carries stuff that is both unusual and extraordinary. Need mutton tallow? Ed has it. Hinges, locks and the most beautiful holdfasts I’ve ever seen? Yes, damn you. Ed carries stuff made by blacksmith Peter Ross, who makes hardware and tools that are of astonishing beauty.

I hesitate to even mention those holdfasts here. Oh well. It’s done.

Ed also has wooden things made by local craftsmen. There are a couple tool chests for sale — including a new one from Bill Anderson based on Roy Underhill’s design. A side table and blanket chest from Jerome Bias. Oh, and tools.

Walls of saws, from the rusty but restorable to those that have been sharpened yesterday. Backsaws, panel saws, handsaws. There are planes of every era in every corner. This week there was an entire collection of Stanley transitional planes that were sharp and ready to go. Oh, and you could buy the chest they came with.

Metal planes? Check. Wooden planes? Check. Badger planes? He has a whole shelf of those.

And let’s talk moulding planes, wooden joinery planes and the like. Ed seems to specialize in these. Two shelves of beading planes in every size? Yup. Nosing planes? Yes, a whole shelf of nosing planes.

I bought a few things. Even with my recent spates of reduce, reduce, reduce, I found a few things that I really needed. A good ogee-profile moulder. A pair of snipes bills in PERFECT shape. And some stuff to experiment with.

So when you go to The Woodwright’s School, bring your tools, but also bring your wallet. Ed is open for business.

You can contact Ed Lebetkin at 919-967-1757 or at EdLebetkin@gmail.com.

— Christopher Schwarz

New DVD: ‘Inside the Anarchist’s Tool Chest’

Posted on by Lost Art Press

When I wrote “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” I stayed away from mentioning brand names when I discussed the tools that make up the core kit in the book. Instead of saying, “Buy these brands, and here are their item numbers,” I tried to give readers the information needed to evaluate tools on their own.

Despite this approach, several people have requested a list of all the brand names of tools in my chest and for my reasoning why I chose each tool.

I resisted these requests at first, but then I decided there was no harm in supplying the information. After all, these are my tools, purchased with my own money. And if you read enough of my blather then you probably could assemble the list on your own.

So we shot a 60-minute DVD titled “Inside the Anarchist’s Tool Chest.” Here’s what’s on it.

• A 55-minute movie where I discuss each tool in the chest, tell you who made it and discuss what I like about it.

• A 5-minute slideshow of 66 step photos of the construction of the chest that were not included in the book.

• An 11-page supplies list of the tools in my chest with direct web links to all of the suppliers of the tools – plus more notes on why I chose particular tools (and I offer a few alternate brands as well).

• A SketchUp drawing of the tool chest from the book.

Here’s a short trailer from the DVD:

As a special introductory offer, we will sell this DVD for $10 plus free shipping in the United States. This offer ensures that those readers who have already purchased the book won’t be punished for buying the book early.

After Aug. 31, the price will go up to its regular price of $12, plus media mail shipping.

To save on costs, the DVD ships in a paper sleeve – no fancy plastic case I’m afraid. We find those cases a waste of money and a hog of shelf space.

To order the DVD at this special price, click here.

— Christopher Schwarz

‘The Woodwright’s Shop’ — the Unused Script

Posted on by Lost Art Press
PHOTO: Mike Oniffrey

When I embark on a writing project I try to begin with a ridiculous premise.  During the revisions and the re-writes, the absurdity begins to mellow or even drain out of the manuscript altogether.

Take “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” for example. When I began writing the book, the nutty, never-happen-but-it-would-be-cool premise was to sell most of my tools, write a book, then quit my cushy corporate job… aw crap.

When Roy Underhill asked me to be a guest on a couple episodes of “The Woodwright’s Shop” for the upcoming season we decided to do a show on planes and a show about the English Layout Square that graces the cover of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.”

So I began thinking about new ways to talk about handplanes. Stupid and perhaps insensitive ways to talk about handplanes. Stuff that would generate angry letters.

Here’s the set-up: What if smoothing plane use were an addiction? And there were support groups?

The following unedited script was completely discarded. We probably used only one line on the show. And yes, I know that addiction is a serious problem – ask me about my family’s struggles with it over a beer sometimes.

— Christopher Schwarz

Smoothing Plane Recovery Program

Chris: My name is Chris Schwarz, and I am a recovering smoothing plane addict.

Roy: An addict? Really? Strong words. Well let’s see … there are basically six steps to recovering from some sort of addiction. Let’s check the list:

“Step one: Admitting that one cannot control one’s addiction or compulsion.”

Chris: At one time I had more than a dozen smoothing planes. I was trying out all the angles, all the mouth apertures, infills, vintage, new, bevel-up, bevel down, woodies, different sizes, you name it.

shows different planes

I had a micrometer to measure whether I was making shavings that were .0005″ thick. I was watching Japanese planing contests – where they measure the shaving thickness in MICRONS.

shows wispy shavings

My wife even caught me down in the shop making shavings… and I wasn’t even building anything. Just… smoothing.

Roy: That is serious stuff. What made you finally quit?

Chris: The good book.

Roy: You mean…

Chris holds up and opens book

Chris: Yup. Joseph Moxon’s “Mechanick Exercises; or the Doctrine of Handy-works Applied to the Arts of Smithing, Joinery, Carpentry, Turning, Bricklaying.”  The first English-language book on woodworking.

Roy: That’s the second step – recognizing a higher power can give you strength. So you found strength through a 17th-century printer and hygrometer to the king?

Chris:  Yes I did. Moxon showed me the error of my ways.

Roy: How’s that?

Chris: When I first read Mechanick Exercises I was struck – nay – blown away by how much Moxon wrote about the “fore plane” and how little he wrote about the “smoothing plane.” It was incredible. More than 1,800 words on the fore plane. And on the smoothing plane: just 33.

shows fore plane.

Roy: Dang. Well I hope they were strong words about the smoothing plane – about how it is the end-all plane, end of story.

Chris:  Hardly. Here’s all he said:

“S. 6.  The Ufe of the Smoothing-Plane.
The Smoothing-plane marked B 4. muft have its Iron fet very fine, becaufe its Office is to fmoothen the work from thofe Irregularities the Fore-plane made.”

Roy: That’s it? Nothing about finding your power animal or opening your heart chakra or adjusting your aura with sub-thou shavings?

Chris: Nope. That’s it. So I started diving deep into Moxon’s text on fore planes and I found that this plane (holds up plane) is the most powerful bench plane in the world.

Roy: You don’t say.

Chris: With this plane I could correct all the things I was doing wrong with my smoothing plane, and that’s ….

Roy: …the third step.

Chris: Indeed. The secret is inside the mouth of the tool. The iron (shows iron)  is a convex arc – this one is an 8″ radius. And this radius can give you superpowers.

(reinstalls iron)

Roy: Like making paper-thin shavings?

Chris: Like making shavings the thickness of an old Groat! (makes massive pass with plane, pulls off thick shaving). This is what gets the work done, not the mamby-pamby lacy doily shavings where each one is unique like a snowflake!

This is what flattens boards (continues to work).  Every shaving from a fore plane equals 10 from a smoother. You can do 10-times less work.

Roy: But won’t thick shavings tear up the work?

Chris: Ahhhh. That’s where Moxon helps us again. He tells us to traverse.

Roy: Traverse?

Chris: Yes. Don’t push your plane with the grain (shows) or against the grain (shows). Instead go ACROSS the grain.

Roy: Won’t you go to a dark and very warm place for doing that?

Chris: Hardly (demonstrates). By going across the grain we can take a much thicker chip with much less effort. And because we aren’t levering up the wood fibers, the tearing is minimal. This also allows us to get boards really flat – something a puny smoothing plane can’t do.

(discussion and demonstration of flattening a board by traversing bark side, then heart side. showing the different sounds and how to determine flat – just wink!)

Roy: That’s pretty remarkable, but the tool seems rather coarse; aren’t you going to make a lot of clean-up work for the other tools?

Chris: Hardly. Moxon says we can reduce the cut of the fore plane and clean up our dawks before moving on. (demonstrates; discussion of dawks ensues).

Roy: It seems like you really got true religion here. As I understand it, you are supposed to “make amends for your errors” in cases like this. Did you. Did you really?

Chris: I did. I sold almost all of my smoothing planes or gave them away to friends. I’m now down to – two smoothing planes, which is probably still one too many. And I’m trying to live my life with a new code of behavior – working as much with a coarse tool before I switch to a fine tool. That’s the core message in Moxon.

Use a hatchet more than a fine file. Use a rough plane more than a fine one. Chop. Don’t pare. Pit saw. Not coping saw.

Roy: And then there’s the last step, right? Helping others who suffer from an addiction to smoothing planes?

Chris: Yup. Wherever there is a woodworker using a Norris A13, I want to be there. A Holtey No. 98? I’m there to take your hands off the $5,000 tool. I’ll be there to trade you a moldy Scioto Works fore plane and show you the way: Across the grain, to get thick shavings, to actually accomplish something.

A Day on the Set of ‘The Woodwright’s Shop’

Posted on by Lost Art Press

The tape is about to start rolling on Sunday morning for an episode of “The Woodwright’s Shop” with Roy Underhill. I’m so nervous about being a guest on the show that I can feel my morning coffee surging in my throat — about to pulse forward like a brown Trevi fountain.

Roy pulls on his hat, which his mother gave him about 35 years ago, over his thicket of hair and picks up a foam tube. I think: That’s… weird. It looks like one of those foam insulators that you wrap around your pipes to keep them from freezing.

He walks over to one of the cameramen and whacks him mercilessly with the foam sword, and the cameraman submits meekly to the mock beating. Then Roy walks over to the next camera operator and administers another stage whuppin’.

But when Roy approaches Mike Oniffrey, a cameraman and set photographer, Oniffrey resists and parries Roy’s attack using a long metal pole (where did a cameraman get a metal pole?). The two men re-enact a scene from “Star Wars” and suddenly the show has begun and I’m babbling.

Today we shot two episodes of “The Woodwright’s Shop” for its forthcoming season. One show is about the importance of the fore plane and the impotence of the smoothing plane. The other show is about how to build the English Layout Square that graces the cover of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest.”

I have appeared on a fair number of television programs in the last 20 years, but those were nothing like “The Woodwright’s Shop.” The crew of “The Woodwright’s Shop” is tiny and close-knit. The entire program is shot in one take – there is no series of cuts that are spliced together. You either get it right the first time or you do the whole dang show over again.

And then there are the beatings…. Aw, who am I kidding? Most TV sets have people who beat you.

The first show on Sunday we did was about the English Layout Square. I was happy with my performance because I made only three embarrassing errors.

1. I cut myself. Yup. Just as the cameras started rolling I nicked my left index finger with my panel saw. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see the wound, but I’m trying to stop the bleeding for the first five minutes.

2. I threw Roy’s mallet off the bench during the show. I meant to just put it down, but the thing went flying off the end of the workbench. Lucky for me I had a second mallet on the bench and I just pretended that nothing happened.

3. I grabbed the wrong piece of wood when I demonstrated how to cut a bead on the square. I was supposed to put it on one of the legs of the square, but I grabbed the horizontal brace instead. Roy helpfully pointed out the error.

Despite all this stupidity, the cameras kept rolling and somehow didn’t record me wetting myself, which is what I wanted to do.

And this first taping of the day was the tame one. The second show was like “Pretty Woman” meets “Fight Club.” More later.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Roy wanted me to tell you that his show is free to all PBS stations. So call your local station and demand they run “The Woodwright’s Shop.” And don’t let them tell you that they can’t afford it. No more “Teletubbies” — we want the Woodwright!