Lost Art Press

I was able to get a resource for the ramped mortis I used when installing hinges on my plane cabinet. As you recall I ramped one side of the mortis to accomodate the non-swaged hinges. This of course was not an original idea of mine and it generated some great thougths on the blog.

Below is a page from Charles Hayward’s “Carpentry
for Beginners”. If you look at figure 2 you can see that he is showing a ramp for one side of the non-swaged hinge. The file is a word document. I was unable to post the picture directly onto this blog, sorry about that. If you have any trouble opening it please let me know and I can email it to you.

Regards
John


Hayward.doc (926 KB)

When you design a piece of furniture to build, there are three well-worn paths (some might call them ruts) to follow.

The first path is to design a piece in a wholly original style. This actually happens about once or twice a century, and its rarity is why we don’t have furniture styles such as “Early Bill,” “Middle Chuck” or the “Late Butch Period.” Few people alive can claim they have successfully launched a style, but don’t let that stop you from trying.

The second approach is to build replicas, either spot-on or with mild alterations, such as an additional drawer, or substituting a square ovolo moulding for a bead. This is a good way to learn the vocabulary of different styles, though it is time-consuming to learn everything by the doing. Some woodworkers (even professionals) might build only six pieces in a year.

The third approach is to design a new piece with vintage parts, like rebuilding an old car. With this approach, you expose yourself to hundreds of images of the form. You could look at tables, cabriole legs or Arts & Crafts desks, for example. Then you select your piece’s dominant element from the library – say a leg, a door or a bonnet – and design your piece around that. (However, you can’t easily mix parts from different genres. It might seem like a good idea to put a Honda push rod in a Chevy, until you hit that metric barrier.)

When asked the secret to good design, Steve Hamilton, a builder at Mack S. Headley & Sons (headleyandsons.com), boiled it down to two words: “Picture books,” he said. “Get a bunch. Look them over.”

Design on the Run
Designing a suitable early American wall cupboard for Woodworking Magazine began with a day in our collection of books and images. You don’t need to spend a lot of money to build a book collection, most of the resources you need are at the public library and on the Internet.

My first stop was Wallace Nutting’s “A Furniture Treasury.” This book is available in many different forms, and it’s common to find copies for about $25. The book is as-advertised. It’s hundreds of pages of images of early American stuff that has been organized into categories such as “chests” and “Windsor chairs.”

The second source was auction catalogs from Christie’s (christies.com) and Sotheby’s (sothebys.com) auction houses. The catalogs these houses publish for their Americana auctions are outstanding. Good images. Good overall dimensions. And good history lessons as well. These catalogs can be pricey at $50 or more, but you can usually browse the catalogs on the Internet for free, though sometimes you have to register with the auction house (registration is free).

The third source was an old favorite of mine from my grandparents’ library: “Fine Points of Furniture: Early American” (Crown) by Albert Sack. This common book can be had for about $10 – the new revised edition is much more expensive and rare. Sack’s book compares different kinds of pieces and ranks them as “good,” “better” or “best.” This book helps hone your tastes in mouldings, proportion and turnings.

After a day of reading, I chose a fetching tombstone door from Nutting’s book and found many tall and skinny shapes for wall cupboards that looked like pieces I had seen at Winterthur, the DuPont’s Delaware estate and museum.

My design firmed up when my doctor got too busy for me one Wednesday. After showing up for my appointment, I was told there would be an hour delay. So I sat in my car and sketched about 10 wall cabinets. I didn’t worry about dimensions or joinery, just the overall look and feel of the piece. Each sketch took about five minutes and tried out variations on the door (one or two?), the drawer (one, two or none?) and the width of the stiles and rails (chunky or light?).

After those sketches, I chose the best two designs, sketched them again and showed them around to woodworkers and friends. It sounds like a lot of work, but I have found that good design is like making stir fry: You first chop vegetables and mix sauces for a long time. The active cooking time is real short – if you’ve done your prep work.

— Christopher Schwarz

Here are pics of the completed Plane cabinet. I haven’t forgot the issue that was raised in the comments section related to “ramping” the mortis I will get back to that when I have something intelligent to say. Here are some “learning points” I got from finishing this project.

I had a problem installing the molding around the lid. The problem started when I discovered that the lid was a hair too narrow in width, meaning the molding would not go over the box. As with most of my mistakes I have no idea how this happened. No problem, I figured I would plane a shallow rabbet into the area of the molding that went over the box. This worked. Great, on my way to my next mistake.

When making the molding for the lid of the plane cabinet, I thought it would look cool to angle the outside edge of the molding. Not a big deal, just run a plane on half of the molding along it’s length. The result, the molding is thick where it is nailed to the lid and tapered where it covers the box. Being very proud of my use of my planes I cut the mitres for the corners and put my new shooting board to work.

That’s when my next mistake appeared. When trying to plane the mitre I could not get a perfect 45 degree joint. I would run the plane on the mitre and it made a nice cut. I put the two pieces together which did not result in a tight joint. I continued to repeat this process getting the same result. As much as I tried to get a straight mitre, and as much as I checked and rechecked the trueness of the shooting board I could not get the damn thing right! Then I realized that I had created a compound mitre by tapering the molding before making the mitres. The molding sat on the shooting board at a non 45 degree angle causing the problem.I am sure there are a number ofpeople saying “no kidding” or some variation… I should have waited until the molding was attached to the box then used the plane to taper. Once again a time consuming mistake but lesson learned. And once again, it wasn’t the tools.

I got cast iron handles from Lee Valley that came with wood screws. I was concerned that the weight of the cabinet full of planes could be too much for the screws. I consulted Chris who said “since they are not my planes…Go for it!” I chose instead to use brass machine bolts with nuts and washers.

Oh, one last thing. The raised panel moved inside the lid frame. To solve this issue, I shot a brad into the center bottom area of the inside side of the lid, stopping this movement. I put a coat of oil onto the walnut then took 600 grit sandpaper and sanded a second coat of oil into the walnut. This leaves a touch-ably smooth surface. When the oil is completely dry I will add two coats of varnish.

-John

No matter how much (or little) money you have, if you are clever enough you can score an exquisite chisel for about $1.

I was reminded this week when I picked up some items on eBay and had to take a few extra unwanted items in the lot, including three plastic-handled chisels. Two of them were Craftsman chisels that were dead ringers for my grandfather’s 1970s-era tools.

The third was a Stanley 1-1/4”-wide 720 chisel with a translucent yellow handle and steel striking button on its end. Normally chisels like this wouldn’t warrant a second look in a flea market box. But if you take a close look at these 720s, you could end up with an excellent worker.

The trick is to know what’s important and what’s not. Here’s my short list of the key features:

1. The handle has to be comfortable for paring or chopping. The 720 passes this test with flying colors. Its vague Coke-bottle-shaped grip falls right into your fingers in both positions. In fact, when gripping it for chopping, the chisel is comfortable only when your index finger is out of the way of the striking button. The only disadvantage of the 720’s handle is that it gets a little slippery when your hands get sweaty.

2. The chisel has to be balanced when you grip the tip of the blade like a pencil (this is the grip for holding the tool for positioning it for light chopping). The 720 is a tad top-heavy for this operation. It’s not unusable, but it’s not perfect.

3. The steel should be easy to sharpen and keep a decent edge. Chisels that are too hard take too long to hone. The 720s are good steel. I bought a couple of these early on in the craft and have also sharpened those belonging to students. They’re good steel.

4. The long edges should be narrow. Very narrow. This is where most mid-priced chisels fail. The narrow side-bevels allow you to sneak into the acute corners of the tail portion of dovetail joints. The 720s are generally very good about this. The one I just bough has side bevels smaller than 1/16”. Nice.

Oh, and there’s one more important characteristic: The chisel has to be fairly rust-free (especially on the unbeveled face side). This particular example is a miserable failure as it probably spent a few years in the bottom of a chum bucket. I cleaned the scaling off with a Klingspor Sandflex block and took a look. Craters everywhere.

Oh well, what do you want for $1?

— Christopher Schwarz