Lost Art Press

A Historical Look at the Anthe Building

Posted on by Kara Uhl

A few weeks ago, Chris asked me to research The Anthe Building. To help, he put me in contact with Heather Churchman, who runs one of our favorite Instagram accounts, Covington Uncovered. Heather was instrumental in the development of this piece for her research, knowledge of Covington history and where to find necessary information. In this post and a couple more to come, Heather and I will share information with you about the Anthe building, company and family, and why the history of this building is so fitting for the future of Lost Art Press. We also met with Jason French, curator at Behringer-Crawford Museum, who shared with us some historical items from Anthe Machine Works (check out his Curator’s Chat video on Anthe Machine Works here) and is helping to coordinate an interview and oral history project with members of the Anthe family soon.

p.s. If you would like to help fund the Anthe Building restoration project, we are selling some limited-edition items here. 

In 1890, 1895 and 1897, Frank D. Anthe is listed in the Williams & Co. city directories as “Anthe Frank, mach. H. 648 Philadelphia.” This indicates his occupation was machinist and the address, we presume, was his home address. Anthe Machine Works has long advertised that it was established in 1897, and this change is noted, in part, in the 1898-1899 city directory, with two addresses and the structure of his name: “Anthe Frank D. machinery, n.e.c. Stewart and Russell Av. H. 648 Philadelphia.”

Furniture Worker, December 1921, Vintage Machinery
(1886) Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Covington, Kenton County, Kentucky. Sanborn Map Company. [Map] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn03152_001/.

Looking at historical Sanborn maps, Heather noted that in 1886, the area around 407 Madison had dwellings that were near a huge industrial block with Fred J. Meyers Architectural Iron Works occupying most of the space.

I want to pull you aside for a moment, with an excerpt from the book “They Built a City: 150 Years of Industrial Cincinnati,” published by The Cincinnati Post in 1938, to illustrate the prominence of the machine tool industry during this time:

“Probably the first Cincinnatian to invest mind, brawn, and money in the business of manufacturing machine tools was John Steptoe, a foundry man who hustled about his shop on Clay Street. About 1850 Steptoe fashioned a wood planer, a machine used extensively in local woodworking plants. Marketing his product proved so profitable that Steptoe in 1855 took in as a partner Thomas McFarlan, carpenter, who not only believed that woodworkers needed machines to increase production, but also that he could give them exactly what they wished. The firm of Steptoe & McFarlan was therefore soon putting out mortising and ennoning [stet] machines which were revolutionary in trade practices.”

John Boh notes in the July 2006 Bulletin of the Kenton County Historical Society that Cincinnati and Covington began to see more and more machine tool manufacturers around this time, in part, thanks to the introduction of the steam engine.

Continuing in “They Built a City,”  pages are spent on the history of the machine tool industry along with dozens of listings of large machine tools producers during this time, noting that a number of companies rebuilt and repaired machine tools for resale.

“…Because a great many improved, as well as newly designed machines are being made here, some companies specialize in this type of research and engineering: Anthe Machine Works, 407 Madison Avenue, Covington. …These plants have made Cincinnati the recognized world center for machine tool production. More than 35 of the 150 plants in America are situated here. They build practically every tool used in industry….”

Back to the Sanborn maps. By 1894, the entire space around 407 Madison was barren after a fire destroyed Fred Meyers, which Heather says, explains why the buildings at both 407 and 409 Madison are considered “newer” for the neighborhood.

In 1902, Anthe must have been renting space at Phoenix Manufacturing Company due to this article in the May 12, 1902 edition of The Cincinnati Enquirer: “Not since the fire at the F. J. Meyer Wire Works, on March 4, 1892, the day of the inauguration of President Grover Cleveland, have the firemen been compelled to cope with such a large fire as that of Saturday night, which at one time threatened the entire neighborhood at Third and Russell Streets.”

The fire gutted Phoenix, a four-story building. Anthe is mentioned near the end of the article: “The loss to the Anthe Machine Works east of the scroll works was about $10,000 and is not fully insured. Several of the firemen were injured by falling glass and cut and bruised about the hands and face.”

The listing in the 1904-1905 city directory: “Machine Works, Frank D Anthe propr. n.e.c. Stewart and Russell Av.”

On August 29, 1905, a building permit was issued by Auditor Gould to F. D. Anthe. The permit was for a “three-story brick factory building to cost $3000.”

Building 407 Madison Ave.

We get some details on the 1897 construction of the Anthe building from an application written in 1983 for the Covington Downtown Commercial Historic District to be named to the National Register of Historic Places. It states:

“The Anthe Machine Works, a similar business, however, has been located in a factory and offices with a fine Neo-Classical front at 407-409 Madison built (or rebuilt) for the same family firm at the turn of the century. This is the kind of small shop of highly-skilled workers (many of them probably of German background), making very specialized products, that characterized the Covington economy, and to some extent, the downtown area, throughout the later 19th and early 20th century, although sometimes on a large scale, like the Stewart Iron Works that have remained at Madison and 17th Street for almost a century.”

and

 “Schofield, of Schofield & Walker, used a similar manner in orange brick for the Anthe Buildings, constructed or refaced shortly afterward nearby at 407 and 409 Madison (Photo 5, distance).”

and

“The Weber Brothers, Schofield, Walker, and William Rabe who worked first for [Daniel] Seger and then with Schofield from 1898 and 1904, may also have designed the many similar buildings throughout Covington.”

When walking through the Anthe Building you get the sense that things have stayed beautifully stagnate, at least structurally and architecturally, over time. This sense also rings true in an article written by Mike Pulfer, who featured the Anthe company in The Cincinnati Enquirer in 1983. He interviewed Don Anthe, who took over the company after their father died (Frank J. Anthe) in 1963. (An interesting aside: According to the article, Frank J. Anthe took over the company from his father, Frank D. Anthe, when he was only 15 years old.)

In the article, Don remembers spending Saturdays cleaning up the basement, whitewashing the walls and running errands for his father. At the time this article was written, because of the recession, business was down 75 percent. Where Anthe used to employ 10 employees, they were down to five. Part of their saving grace, Don states, is that the family owned 407 Madison.

“The structure, a row building put together in 1897 as the Anthe Building, is the epitome of low overhead,” Pulfer writes. “It looks much the same as it [stet] in its infancy, with its original wainscotting and wood floors. The stairway that leads to the third and uppermost level remains decorated in the same turquoise paint Don and Frank Anthe had slapped around as children.

The turquoise paint remains to this day.

“Steel powder and shavings litter the floors on the first and second levels, where more than a dozen machines are scattered. The third floor is used for storage and utilities.

“The office, with a display window fronting Madison Avenue, is basic and functional. The antique photographs of the business and the partially consumed bottle of whiskey Frank Joseph Anthe left behind remain tucked away in the bottom of a desk drawer.

“‘We’re largely known in the woodworking industry as custom tool builders,’ Anthe said. ‘If somebody wants a special router bit, we’ll agree to make him one or two, or a half dozen or a dozen.

‘The larger manufacturers won’t handle anything less than 100.’

“…A couple of decades back, ‘People were telling us plastics were coming in and they were going to take over the furniture industry,’ Anthe said. ‘They said we’re going to be out of business …Well, plastics came in, and plastics went out. People like wood.’”

Fast-forward to an article written in October 16, 2003 in The Cincinnati Enquirer that states that the building was designed with reinforced beams to support the Anthe machines’ weights. And in the 1970s, many of the firm’s belt-driven machines had to be replaced with electric ones to meet new workplace regulations.

By January 30, 1906, there were two ads in The Kentucky Post:

“MACHINIST—Good man with general experience in toolroom. F.D. Anthe. 407 Madison Ave. Covington.”

“CABINET MAKERS—Two, good at once. 407 Madison Ave.”

The 1908-1909 city directory listing: “Frank D prop Anthe Machine Works 407  Madison Ave h 646 Philadelphia.” And looking at a 1909 Sanborn map, 407 Madison is identified as “Machine Shop, Woodworking.” 409 Madison Ave. does not yet exist.

Other Businesses at 407 Madison Ave.

Anthe posted ads for factory space for rent in local newspapers as space became available.

1924: “FACTORY SPACE for rent: 3rd floor; plenty of light; reasonable rent; elevator furnished.”

The Cincinnati Enquirer, March 2, 1924

One of the first businesses to rent space in the newly built Anthe building was Kelley-Koett X-Ray Manufacturing Company (which employed Herman Anthe, Frank J. Anthe’s brother), in 1905. They rented the second floor, per an article written by John Boh in the January/February 2020 issues of the Bulletin of the Kenton County Historical Society.

We can tell the types of other businesses that rented space, in part thanks to newspaper job ads.

1914: INNER SOLE CUTTER—On block. No. 407 Madison av. Covington, Ky.

1917: GIRLS—For wrapping soap. Jones Adv. Soap Co. 407 Madison, Covington.

1917: GIRLS—Exper. On power sewing machines to make skirts, middles and dresses; good pay; steady work. 407 Madison, Cov.”

1919: JOB-PRINTING pressfeeder: experienced. PICTORIAL SOAP CO. 407 Madison av. Covington, Ky.

1921: WE REGRIND CYLINDERS: Drop in and see the only cylinder grinder in Northern Kentucky. General Machine Work a Specialty. Dixie Regrinding Co. 407 Madison Ave.”

1926: Solicitors Wanted: Crew managers and helpers, men and women, to sell our new kitchen utensil, “EJECTOR FORK.” Write or call at office. THE CHRISMAN MFG. CO., 407 Madison Av.”

1926: Unusual Values: in Lamp Shades, Bases and Uncovered Wire Frames: The Chrisman Mfg. Co. 407 Madison Ave., Second Floor.”

Anthe posted job openings from time to time as well.

1942: LATHE HAND: Experienced Men Only: If engaged in war work do not apply. ANTHE MACHINE WORKS. 407 Madison Ave.”

1946: “MACHINISTS—For lathe or milling machine, only experience men need apply, 407 Madison Ave., Covington, Ky.”

The Cincinnati Enquirer, February 10, 1946

1951: “SUBCONTRACTS WANTED: Machine Shop equipped with 6 engine lathes, 4 milling machines, cutter, grinder and heat-treating equipment is looking for work.”

Historical newspapers are a treasure trove of personal information. In them we learned that Frank Anthe defeated Rev. James H. Lions, pastor of the Shinkle M. E. Church, in a 1928 handball tournament involving 20 businessmen at the local YMCA. Frank Anthe’s $50 overcoat was stolen from his office in 1932. And in 1921, yeggs went to the trouble of breaking into his safe, only to walk away with $50 in war savings bonds.

The Kentucky Post, November 25, 1921

A Building that Was Meant to be

One of the reasons Chris fell in love with the Anthe building is because of its tie to local woodworking history. Then, we made another discovery:

A printing company (!) occupied the entire second floor from 1931 to 1976.

“Gottleib Frederick Adolf (“Fred”) Schramm fled from the German Kaiser from Tubingen, Germany, passed through Port Huron, Mich., and eventually settled in Florence, Boone County, Kentucky about 1896,” writes John Boh in an article in the January 1991 Kenton County Historical Society Review.

Schram dropped the second “m” in his name, began printing for Hopeful Lutheran Church and did other contract printing for a decade before establishing a print shop with a partner on Pike Street in Covington. Their first big contract was to print stationery and whisky labels for Crigler and Crigler distillery. Schram bought his partner out and in 1931 moved to the second floor of the Anthe building. The business, which eventually was passed to Schram’s son, John, remained in operation until John’s retirement in 1976.

The Cincinnati Post, December 24, 1933

You can see the printing presses and letter trays that were used on the second floor of the Anthe building at the Schram Print Shop at Heritage Village Museum in Sharonville, Ohio. Schram Printing Company donated these items in 2004, and Heritage Village built a structure, Schram Print Shop, in their living history museum, to house them.

The press, paper cutter and cases of type all existed in the original Schram Print Shop at 407 Madison Ave. Today you can see them at Schram Print Shop, Heritage Village Museum. Photo by Ethan Powles.

The Anthe Building is impressive when you walk through it. But what I kept seeing were the people. Present in the lone wooden hanger.

The broom.

Buzz, Al, Terry and Lonnie.

And while reading the obituary I found for Victor J. Schraivogel, who died at age 69, a retired machinist who worked at Anthe Machine Works for 44 years.

In 2003, Jenny Callison interviewed Doug and Mark Anthe for an article titled “Long-standing businesses survive on service” in The Cincinnati Enquirer.

“Doug and Mark Anthe operate the cutting tool plant started by their great-grandfather in 1897,” Callison writes. “There are other elements of continuity; Anthe Machine Works occupies the same structure where it began more than a century ago. It continues to make cutting tools for the furniture industry.

“‘We stick to the plan for the people before us,’ Doug Anthe said. ‘We produce a good product and back it up. But we have the ability to shift.’”

— Kara Gebhart Uhl

Video Tour of the Anthe Building – Our New HQ

Posted on by Lost Art Press
The Anthe Building at 407 Madison Ave.

Work began today on the Anthe Building, the 1897 factory in central Covington that is going to become Lost Art Press’ new headquarters in June.

This morning we shot this short video tour of the building before we began work. This is the “before” picture. The “after” picture? We’re shooting that in 2028.

What is important about today is something I have said before but cannot say enough. I am the blabbermouth of this company because I have a voice that carries, the dancing monkey moves and I don’t care what other people think about me. But I am just one part of Lost Art Press. 

If it weren’t for John Hoffman, we wouldn’t have a distribution system or outside authors writing books for us. He is in charge of getting books into the mail and getting authors and suppliers paid. It is thankless grunt work. And so I now grunt my thanks at him. 

Megan Fitzpatrick, our first employee, has taken over many of the editorial and toolmaking tasks that were drowning me. She usually knows what I am going to say before I say it, and she usually has a better idea at the ready. Thanks to her, I am still able to make furniture and write books, which is my true love.

We also have Kara, who handles all our contracts and writes our author profiles (and who is working with Heather at Covington Uncovered to research the building’s history, which we’ll be sharing here). And Meghan, who handles all the customer service. Thankless jobs all. So thank you.

Plus the dozens of suppliers and retailers who perform miracles almost every week on our behalf.

All of these people were the reason we were able to purchase this building. And they are the reason I am not having a panic attack about it. 

Yes, we have a ton of work ahead of us. But all of us together will make it happen.

Additionally, as we fixed up our building on Willard Street during the last eight years, we also built a team of contractors and subcontractors who know what the hell they are doing. Most of these people are older than I am and have been in the trades all their lives. And they know Covington and its unique architecture. And they get things done.

So let it begin.

— Christopher Schwarz

If you would like to help fund the restoration project, we are selling some limited-edition items here. 

A New Building & a New Future for Lost Art Press

Posted on by Lost Art Press
407 Madison Ave., the new home of Lost Art Press.

When I purchased our storefront here on Willard Street in Covington in 2015, I was certain of two things: 1) It was the final old building that I was going to bring back to life; 2) It would be the final resting place of Lost Art Press.

Until this month, I’ve never given more than 2 seconds of thought about what will happen to this company after John and I die. We’ll be dead, so we won’t care.

But this month, it looks like everything I wrote in the first sentence of this blog entry is incorrect. We have just purchased an old woodworking tool factory at 407 Madison Ave. in downtown Covington. This building housed the Anthe Machine Works, which made woodworking cutters from the time the company started in 1897 until it closed in 2019.

The first floor of the Anthe building behind the office. Note the lineshaft, which powers the elevator.

The building is a time capsule, with few modern improvements. Original floors, mouldings, elevator, windows, lineshaft and (yikes) toilets. It is a gorgeous space that is flooded with light. And it has no modern amenities.

The Anthe building has more than 5,000 square feet of space that is in need of preservation and restoration. And it is big enough that it now helps us see Lost Art Press as a multi-generational enterprise.

This building will allow us to bring our fulfillment operations here to Covington and have room to grow (if we want to). By June, all of our inventory will be on the floor of the Anthe building. And we will be able to mail out orders to customers with the same personal touch we bring to everything else we do.

We are thrilled by all this. But we are also a bit terrified.

In order to buy the building, we agreed to take on debt for the first time in our history. It’s not a huge loan. In fact, we will save money by transferring our inventory to Covington. But it is a debt.

More important is that we have taken on an obligation to this building, which is a historic structure with virtually no alterations. The storefront is all frame-and-panel woodwork surrounded by cast iron. The doors – all original. The trim around the windows? The original Greek key steel trim.

Though the building is in decent shape, it needs an almost endless amount of love. It needs a plan for its sensitive restoration. And it needs a lot of skilled help.

So this is the part of the blog entry where I do something I never wanted to do: show my ass.

The purchase of a huge building is something we’ve never done. And here is the other thing we’ve never done: ask for your help to restore it.

The first stage of restoring the Anthe building is to make the first floor a safe and comfortable working space. Plus maintain humidity levels to protect our books in inventory. That means we need to:

  1. Add HVAC to the first floor (with plans for systems on the other two floors).
  2. Pave the gravel drive to our loading dock to allow us to receive and send shipments.
  3. Provide basic amenities. Offer a working bathroom. Add locks on doors that work. Fix the original stairs. Remove some modern “improvements” to the front office.
  4. Get the freight elevator running.
The gravel drive that allows us to load in and out. This needs to be paved.
The building’s original freight elevator. We love it.

To help pay for these initial projects, we are asking for your help. We have four tiers of support, and each tier offers something useful or beautiful in return. You can purchase any of these tiers in our store now. Links below and here.

Sparkle Pony Level – $5,000 (six available)

* A special one-week stick chair class in February 2024 here in Covington. This will also be a food tour as all your meals and drinks will be included. Together we’ll each make a stick chair (you’ll get to pick the design) from some premium wood (not bog oak – I don’t have enough; think maple, white oak, walnut). We’ll have nice lunches brought in to the shop. And we’ll go out every night to one of our favorite places in Cincinnati or Covington. Oh, and there will be a Sunday bluegrass night the evening before. The exact date will be decided by the six students, so it is a little flexible.

* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December

* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024

Bespokus Level – $600 (100 available)

* One of 100 handmade spell panels, hand engraved, signed and painted by Chris and Megan (shipped immediately)

* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December

* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024

Fancy Lad/Lass Level – $350 (125 available)

* One of 125 specially engraved lump hammers featuring the building (shipped immediately)

* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December

* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024

Bean the Shop Cat Level – $100

* Signed copy of “The American Peasant” made out to you when it is released in December

* Invitation to our Opening Day Party in early 2024

If you can help, thank you. If you cannot, we totally understand. Simply being a customer of Lost Art Press helps support and sustain our work.

In the coming weeks I’ll write more about the building and our plans for the future of Lost Art Press – beyond this current generation. I can tell you one thing right now: We would sooner give it away than sell it to a venture capital firm.

So if you have children, start feeding them a steady diet of Roy Underhill and Charles Hayward. We might need them here in Covington.

— Christopher Schwarz

The top floor of the Anthe building. Everything is original. And everything needs love.

A Big Thank You

Posted on by saucyindexer

The Pirate Map used by the Visitor (before aging with tea, water, dirt, crumpling and folding). The Tropics of Newport are to the east; flying pigs, muddy banks and Larry the Ferryman are on the north bank. The swine whales live near the ‘O’s on the river. The visitor’s skiff has passed the Licking River and is between the ‘R’ and ‘I’.

My internet service was out for a while and I wasn’t able to respond to the comments to Chris’ reading of “A Visitor Comes to Covington” or to the backstory of the book. Thank you for the many very kind comments. 

I wasn’t sure how the book would be received. In the letter sent with the book my suggestion was to put it on a high shelf in the library, push it well to the back and put something heavy on it. Alternatively, it could be buried in the basement. Fortunately, the Stick Chair Badge Approval & Distribution Committee (Chris and Megan) liked the book and I heard there was a bit of teary-eyedness when each had read the book. I didn’t intend to make anyone cry but have to confess I got a bit of moisture around my eyes when Chris read the book.

Below is a photo of my last cat, Bunky Beanie Bronzini. He was a big and solid 15-pounder capable of herding me towards the kitchen when he thought I might be headed in the wrong direction. If he had lived another few years he would gained another name or two. 

This was his “No, absolutely not,” expression.

Thanks, again for reading!

–Suzanne Ellison

Materials for 17th-century Work, a la Follansbee

Posted on by fitz

The following is excerpted from Peter Follansbee’s “Joiner’s Work.”

If you like green woodworking, “Joiner’s Work” is doctoral thesis on processing furniture-shaped chunks of lumber from the tree using and axe, froe, hatchet and brake. If you are into carving, Peter dives into deep detail on how he festoons his pieces with carvings that appear complex but are remarkably straightforward. And if you love casework, “Joiner’s Work” is a lesson on the topic that you won’t find in many places. Peter’s approach to the work, which is based on examining original pieces and endless shop experimentation, is a liberating and honest foil to the world of micrometers and precision routing.

The book features six projects, starting with a simple box with a hinged lid. Peter then shows how to add a drawer to the box, then a slanted lid for writing. He then plunges into the world of joined chests and their many variations, including those with a paneled lid and those with drawers below. And he finishes up with a fantastic little bookstand.

Construction of these projects is covered in exquisite detail in both the text and hundreds of step photos. Peter assumes you know almost nothing of 17th-century joinery, and so he walks you through the joints and carving as if it were your first day on the job. Plus he offers ideas for historical finishes.

The primary material for joiners’ work is oak (I use white oak [Quercus alba] and red oak [Quercus rubra] interchangeably) that has been riven, or split, from the log.

This results in boards whose face is the radial plane, the most dimensionally stable surface possible. The stock is initially worked fresh from the log, a state we call “green.” After initial planing, boards are selectively dried some, then re-worked – the decoration and joinery are cut once the surface is dry enough to take a good finish, yet the interior of the stock retains some of that moisture, making it easier to cut than air- or kiln-dried stock.

Fig. 1.1 Here an eighth-section of an oak log is ready to become some perfectly quartered boards. Opening the log is always one of my favorite moments, when each piece reveals its potential.

When studying period pieces, I see that case pieces – boxes, chests, cupboards and related items – often display a mixture of riven and sawn stock. Usually the mill-sawn stock is the secondary wood, and in New England pieces this is often Eastern white pine (Pinus strobus). Other softwoods might appear as well. I’ve noted Atlantic white cedar (Chamaecyparis thyoides) riven into chest bottoms and drawer bottoms. It also appears as applied mouldings.

Fig. 1.2 Long sections of Atlantic white cedar are ideally suited for making applied mouldings.
I don’t often get this wood, so I try to use every last bit of it when I do.

I’ve seen yellow pine (probably Pinus rigida or Pinus resinosa) in furniture from Connecticut and western Massachusetts. You can make the whole piece from riven oak, and many period works are just that, but when making case pieces, I prefer to use white pine for at least the bottoms, and often the lids, too. This is just a way to save some oak for future joinery work.

Fig. 1.3 This chest with two drawers has a relatively broad range of woods. The carcase is red oak; the lid, floor, drawer bottoms and rear panels are white pine; the applied mouldings are Atlantic white cedar; and some panels and one drawer front have plaques of black walnut.

While I am quite content using oak for most any piece of furniture, you might want some variety in your work. Black walnut (Juglans nigra) and ash (various Fraxinus species) are perhaps the most commonly found non-oak timbers I have seen in period joinery. I have used them and some other woods, too. I’ve seen Spanish cedar (Cedrela odorata) in some 17th-century joiners’ work from Boston, and other timbers besides. And recently, I’ve been using some Alaska yellow cedar (Cupressus nootkatensis) for carved boxes. Try what you have. I’d say the single-most important feature is straight grain. If nothing else, keep that in mind.
Recently a friend gave me several sections of riven black walnut. They were short lengths, but just right for a joined stool. My previous experiences with walnut were a mixed bag. I often joke about being a personal monoculture; I have used oak so much for so long that I had no reference point for most other timbers. But it wasn’t until I used the riven walnut that I could truly appreciate this wood.

I used to think “it’s not for me” – but that was because I came at it the wrong way. I knew that for oak, riven green wood was the ideal. Why I thought it would be different for walnut is just one of those mental blunders that hit us all from time to time. I was judging this wood based on cuts that I would never deal with in oak. My first walnut project was a wainscot chair, made from kiln-dried wood, complete with grain run-out and all manner of un-straight fibers. Next up was a board chest, this time in air-dried wide boards. Nice, but expensive. It worked so much better than the previous project, but the chest had few details, and I really didn’t get much out of it.

Fig. 1.4 Straight-grained riven walnut was a revelation for me. This joint stool is the second non-oak example I’ve ever made. I’d do it again if the wood came my way.

Then it all clicked perfectly with the riven green wood. A nice straight-grained walnut log is a dream to work, easy to plane and to chisel – and the axe work in walnut makes you feel like Superman. Turning it is especially satisfying. When it came to carving, I had to lighten up my mallet blows. When I used my usual approach, I blasted the walnut to smithereens. Less mallet work, more hand-work and it cut fine. Live and learn. Now I have to take back all the horrible things I’ve said about walnut. Riven, straight-grained, green, free – that’s the way I like my walnut.

Around southern New England where I live, the ash tree most commonly found is white ash (Fraxinus americana). I have used this wood for furniture almost from my very first projects. When I made ladderback and Windsor chairs, ash was a favorite riving wood for parts. It is lightweight, strong and splits well – an all-around great hardwood. It has a short shelf-life in the log, though; it can go bad pretty quickly if you don’t get to it. Seventeenth-century turned chairs were often ash, but some joined work was, too. You work it just as you would oak. I have found it’s somewhat stringy, and when very fresh it can tear out badly under the plane. But if you work it green then let it sit a while, it will work very well afterward. The color is pretty bland, and there’s no figure on the radial face as in oak. So carve it up then paint it, and no one’s the wiser. Nice wood.

The Way I Work
Some woodworkers keep a stockpile of lumber on hand, and draw from their stacks as they begin a new project. Others buy enough lumber (with some extra) for each piece they are planning to build, often working from a list that includes all the pieces in a given project and their rough dimensions. I work in a different way. I start with a log and split out almost every piece of oak that I use at the bench. Starting with the log is a lot of work, but it’s fun. This approach usually results in me starting several projects at once, then I leapfrog back and forth among them. Sometimes I have quite a few pieces underway, usually limited by shop space. As I write this, I have a joined chest, a chest with drawers, a chest of drawers, two wainscot chairs, a long table and several joint stools in progress. I just finished a carved box in the midst of all these.

It’s not an attention-span problem. It’s what happens when I open the log. I have an idea of what I want from a given log, but the tree has ideas of its own. I might be preparing stock for a joined and carved chest, but end up with more narrow framing parts than I need. These get shuffled over to the next project. Panels in a chest range from 7″-12″ wide, usually only about 14″-16″ long. Some logs offer wide panels that are longer than that, but are still too short to get two lengths out of them. These are ideal for carved boxes whose long front and back boards are usually around 20″-24″ long. It goes on and on.

Fig 1.5 This bedstead is now more than 15 years old. When it was new, the color difference between the various woods was obvious. Now they have blended rather well. There are white oak muntins, red oak panels, and the long rails and stiles are white ash. The finish is linseed oil.

Selecting the Timber
If you are going to split your stock, it starts with the log. Finding the right log isn’t half the battle, but it’s a good chunk of it. Ideally, you’ll work with an oak that grew dead-straight, is clear, or free of knots, bumps and branches, and is large enough in diameter to yield wide boards along its radial plane. With all those criteria met, you can get even more demanding and look for an oak log that meets all these demands and is also slow-growing. In some places, you can find this timber at sawmills and log merchants, and sometimes even firewood suppliers will have short sections that fit the profile.

If you’re skipping the log-splitting aspect of this work, you can come close to this material if you look for straight-grained quartersawn boards. When using sawn stock, I prefer air-dried to kiln-dried. To me, the kiln-dried stuff seems stiffer and less cooperative. Air-dried is harder to find, but it’s out there. Flat-sawn boards can be used in joinery; they certainly are prevalent in surviving English work of the 17th century. They require some careful planning and much more effort in working, but you can make joined work with flatsawn stock – it just won’t be as much fun as working with riven stuff. When using riven stuff, you’ll be working the wood green, or unseasoned. If you have flat-sawn stock, it needs to be seasoned. The general rule of thumb is one year of air drying per inch of thickness. When I use sawn oak, I like to air dry it outside, then bring it in the shop for a few months before breaking it down to rough-size pieces.

Oak
Most of the oaks are ring-porous hardwoods, meaning their growth rings are comprised of two different types of cells. The material that grows in the spring is generally more porous than that from summer growth. This results in a distinct division between the spring or “earlywood” and the summer or “latewood.” Also visible on the end-grain view are the ends of the medullary rays. These are cells that radiate outward from the log’s center, or pith, toward the bark. Ring-porous hardwoods, with only a couple of exceptions, split predictably both in line with the growth rings and perpendicular to them, along the medullary rays.

Fig. 1.6 This section of end grain is strictly firewood, but the structure of the oak shows clearly. Just inside the bark is a narrow band of greyish-white sapwood, then the bulk of the material is the darker-colored heartwood. Radiating out from the center are the ends of the medullary rays, showing up as almost silvery bright lines. Concentric growth rings encircle the very center, or pith of the tree, in this case rotten and bug-eaten. This one has almost everything that can go wrong with a log; the pith is off-center, the log is out-of-round, the medullary rays are twisted and bent and there’s insect damage. There’s also cracking along the growth rings and injury to the tree at a couple of points in its life. Burn it.

The end grain of a large oak shows two distinct colors in the wood. The outer inch or so (just below the bark) is the sapwood. This material is the part of the tree that conducts the sap. It is more prone to decay and infestation, and is considered weaker than the darker-colored “heartwood.” In oaks, the greater proportion of the tree’s diameter is taken up with the heartwood. A young sapling is all sapwood, but over time as the tree grows, there is a transition in which the inner layers of sapwood undergo a chemical change into heartwood. For our purposes, the principal difference between sapwood and heartwood is the greater resistance to decay that heartwood exhibits. In woods such as ash or maple, most of the usable stock is sapwood. In the oaks, the sapwood is generally discarded, and the heartwood is the stuff of choice.

When splitting out oak stock for furniture work, the radial face is the best one to use for a number of reasons. The primary benefit is the dimensional stability of boards oriented this way. In a straight-grained example, there is little shrinkage across this radial face, thus little to no distortion, either. Another feature of this radial plane is the ease of working it – the wood cuts more easily on this face than on the adjacent tangential face. So the carved work is always done on the radial face. Mouldings are often cut in this plane, also. When using riven oak, the stock is usually oriented so the radial faces compose the front of the piece.

The material nearest the center of the log is called juvenile wood. Formed when the tree was a small sapling, this wood is often very fibrous and can include twisted grain. There is no clear distinction between where the juvenile wood leaves off and the workable heartwood picks up. Each log is different. If the innermost fibers appear straight-grained, you can try to keep as much of that stock as possible. One place where you might push your luck with the juvenile wood is when you are trying to split out the widest panel stock you can get. (I’ll cover that in detail when we get to splitting and working panels.)