One aspect of woodworking that is difficult to explain to non-woodworkers are the physical and mental effects the tools have on us.
Sometimes I wonder if I should bring my Lie-Nielsen No. 3 in bronze to the doctor’s office with me. I can promise you that my blood pressure and pulse are lower when my right hand is gently curved around its tote.
When we set out to design our large Center Square in brass, I knew exactly how it should function. But we were also chasing something else that is much more difficult to achieve – an almost totemistic way that the tool looks and feels in your hand.
The size and heft of the tool were carefully considered to make it something that feels at home in your hands. Overall it’s 5-1/2” long and 2-3/8” wide, so it sits nicely in most palms. The Center Square is machined from solid brass and weighs a pleasant 5.6 ounces. All its edges have been eased after machining, so there are no sharp and unpleasant corners.
The brass Center Square being used to mark lines off a radius.
But the real stunning part of this tool is the machine-engraved pattern on its blade. I wanted woodworkers who might not be able to afford an engraved tool to be able to own something that is (almost) as perfect and beautiful.
So I reached out to Jenny Bower, an engraver and maker in Michigan, to see if she would lend her hands and eyes to this project. You might remember her from our small run of engraved lump hammers. There’s no way we could ask Jenny to engrave hundreds of these Center Squares. They would be too expensive and it might burn her out.
But I was willing to bet that our machinist, Craig Jackson, would be willing to try to translate Jenny’s designs into something that one of his mills could engrave. Jenny drew up about a dozen designs for us. Then Craig selected the one best suited for his mill. It took many hours of work, but Craig managed to translate Jenny’s fluid and floral lines into something his machines could cut.
The result is not something intended to fool an engraver. The lines are clearly incised by a machine. But they also retain the fluidity and life that Jenny put into them.
The Crucible Center Square is now in production and the first big batch is in our store. These tools are made in Kentucky with a little help from Michigan thrown in. Right now the price of metals such as brass is volatile. The price of this Center Square is $120 (domestic shipping is free). That might change as the price of brass fluctuates.
All thanks to Jenny and Craig for making a tool that exceeded my high expectations for it.
Every time we get questions about our setting jigs, I joke that I’m going to start making them to sell. Had I done it years ago, I could probably now afford that paint job my house needs…or at least afford some fancy cat treats!
The questions have ticked up recently, due to the publication Christopher Schwarz’s book “Sharpen This.” But I still can’t bring myself to make these jigs, ’cause it’s so easy to make your own. But also because different honing guides require different placement of the blocks (it has to do with how far the blade projects)… and I don’t have time to make these for every guide out there. So here’s how to make the one we use, for our Lie-Nielsen honing guides:
Screw two pieces of ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene (UHMW) to a block of plywood. Done. No magnets. No magic.
OK, OK…here are a few more particulars:
The 1/2″-thick plywood block is 4-1/4″ long x 2-1/8″ wide. (Other sizes would work.) We like plywood because it is unlikely to warp as much as solid wood.
The 1/4″-thick UHWM plastic is left over from another project – but it’s the perfect thing for this. It doesn’t get munged up as easily as a block of wood when you register a blade against it, so it lasts a lot longer. The two little blocks of UHWM are 1″ wide x 1-1/8″ long.
The plastic is screwed in place with brass screws, because they won’t rust.
The 35° block is 7/8″ from the front edge; the 30° block is 1-5/32″ from the front edge.
Those are the only two angles at which we hone/polish 99 percent of our edge tools (and really, we mostly use only the 35°). But if you want a lot of angle choices on your jig, Lie-Nielsen Toolworks has a free download for a fancy one. But we don’t do fancy when it comes to tool sharpening – ’cause making them dull is a lot more fun.
To use it, register the blade against the block, then tighten the jig. Easy, fast, repeatable.
But what if you don’t have a Lie-Nielsen honing guide, or you want different angles? Well, you’ll just have to figure out the proper projection to get the setting block in the right place. Here are two ways to do that.
Put a blade in your guide, then put a Tilt Box on the blade and register the bevel against a flat surface. Adjust the guide until the readout matches your goal angle. Tighten the guide, then measure the distance from the body of the guide to the end of the blade. That’s the distance from the guide’s body the setting block should be secured to the setting jig’s base.
The Tilt Box II in use.
Or put a blade in your guide and register the existing bevel against a flat surface. Put a protractor upright on that same flat surface. Align the business end of the blade with the center of a protractor (make sure the 0° on said protractor is on the edge – they aren’t all). Adjust the guide until the angle matches the one you want.
The following is excerpted from “With All the Precision Possible: Roubo on Furniture,” by André-Jacob Roubo, translated by Don Williams, Michele Pietryka-Pagán and Philippe Lafargue. In addition to the translated text and images from the original 18th-centry masterpiece, “With All the Precision Possible: Roubo on Furniture” also includes five contemporary essays on Roubo’s writing by craftsmen Christopher Schwarz, Don Williams, Michael Mascelli, Philippe Lafargue and Jonathan Thornton.
After you have determined the measurements of the work that you wish to make, you draw it on a straight and uniform board. This is what woodworkers call marking the work on the plan. In general, they call the plan all the cuts of the work both in height and width, which represent the shapes [profiles] of all the parts that make it up, or to speak more intelligibly, represent the shape of the wood, its thickness and its width. [It is essentially a layout and cutting list.]
Before beginning to draw the work on the plan, one must determine the width of the sides, the thickness of the wood, the width and the form of the contours, which you do on paper so as to master all the changes or other additions that you judge appropriate. [The implication is clearly that at least some portion of the drawing is at full scale.] This is much better than designing the shapes [profiles] on the plan, because not only are they never as good as on the paper, but because it is lost time that you use to draw the shapes [profiles] at all the places where they are found on this same plan. When the work is of a certain prominence, it is good to make a design of it on paper before laying it out, because you can better make an account of the forms and of the harmony all the parts have with each other.
When the work is particularly considerable, both for its richness as for its size, you must not be content with one design. It is necessary to draw it life-size on the walls of the room in which it will be installed so that you can judge the effect of the entire composition, including both joinery and Carving.
When the nature of the work is out of the ordinary you should make small models of it so as to neglect nothing in making it perfect.
I will not deny that all these precautions are costly, but they accelerate the execution of the work by removing all the difficulties that could be encountered. What’s more, they [the added precautions] respond with success. Whatever experience you have, it often happens that during the execution some difficulties arise that you never thought of. That is why they say to never be too enamored with your theory by avoiding your drawings and models. What’s more, what I recommend here is nothing new, since the greatest Artists of all kinds never execute anything they have not drawn and modeled previously.
The work thus designed or modeled according to the occasion, you draw on the board, which is ordinarily of pine and dressed [trimmed and whitewashed evenly] so as to be able to draw the work neatly. That is why we prefer this wood to all others for this use because when it is of a good quality it is extremely soft and [of] an even hardness throughout.
We use black or red stone, which we call sanguine [reddish drawing chalk], for drawing the work. However, it is good to begin to draw it with chalk because it erases more easily than black or red stone, which you should not use except when you have it all drawn with chalk.
You should not draw the shapes [profiles], as I said above, you must [instead] only do a chamfer/bevel [that is] the width of the moulding, but you must make one edge of the mouldings square while the other is contoured. However, as joinery can be simple, either with moulding part of the frame or moulding exceeding the thickness of the frame, it is good to draw the bulk of the shape [profile] of each type in a different manner, so the worker who makes the work cannot be deceived.
Simple profiles are designed with a single chamfer, like that of side g, Fig. 4. Those where the moulding is part of the thickness of the frame have a small framework [next to] a chamfer similar to the first one, with the exception that it is notched/squared by about a line down from the face corner, like that of side h.
For those of a large framework where the moulding exceeds the thickness of the frame, you make a chamfer in the front, and at the rear you mark their projection on the edges, noting to mark the grooves. When the frameworks have a moulding at the rear, you make a little chamfer to indicate this. Look at profile, side i, which represents a shape [profile] of a moulding projecting on one side, and level with the frame on the other. Side l represents a tongue-and-groove framework where the side enters by tongue and groove into a door frame.
In general, you must take care to draw the work precisely so that whoever makes it can do it more easily and can even trace on [top of] the plan without making other divisions.(4) [In order to design a space’s accouterments such as paneling, windows and doors en toto, one has to divide the expanse of the room into sections to lay out correctly and harmoniously the paneling including the frame work. As the portions of design are assembled into a compiled whole, the risk of compounding any error is substantial. In this passage, Roubo is sternly warning against sloppy layout. When the assembled plan is correct you can then project the same layout onto the wall and cut all your pieces. If the craftsmen doubt the accuracy of the drawing or note an error, they must restart with each portion or restart the layout to fit the wall correctly.] That is why one must trace with a sharpened point all the widths of the frames and the mouldings, which is more accurate than tracing with white stone. One must also take care to mark precisely all the grooves and rabbets, as well as tongues and grooves, the middles as well as the angles, that one must number, so that you can see in a single glance all the parts which go with the others.
The door frames are also marked in bulk, noting only to mark exactly the place of the grooves and the depth of the rabbet. Look at Fig. 5, which represents some paneling marked both in width and height.
The profiles of casements are also marked in bulk. Their little wooden pieces are marked squarely according to their width and thickness. When they are little uprights, you mark them with a cross, which passes the four angles, which indicates their cut with a diamond point. You also draw the rabbet of the frame with glass, as well as the shape of the profile of the imposts [fan lights], those of the door handle/hardware, and of the hand rail, see Fig. 6.
It is good before drawing the work, especially when you have not drawn anything, to calculate all the width of the wood so as to see right away the size of the panels or pilasters that you want to mark, so as to decrease or increase their number.
This way is the surest and easiest, not only because you make mistakes less easily, but also because it shortens the time that you are often required to spend making divisions and erasing them.
Joiners also draw the elevation of their works, especially when it is curved or ornamented with carving. These elevations are made with a sharp point without any shadow, if you omit the ornaments. But the latter are not the work of joiners. These elevations are called plans, in workmen’s terms, and are marked on large panels of pine. As it happens that there are lines which are only for construction, that is to say, to design some joints or some assemblies, you make them of another color than those of the elevation, so as to distinguish them. That is to say, that if the elevation is marked in black, the construction lines are made in red. Sometimes these lines are marked only by a point, especially when it is absolutely necessary that they be perfectly straight.
(4) While I say here that you must draw the work exactly on the plan so that you can trace on top of it, it is good that the workers take the pain to verify if the sections are made correctly when they start to trace so as to avoid following mistakes which may be on the plan, supposing there are any. What’s more, the divisions are always subject to some errors. That is why it is good to re-draw them on the work itself, in spite of the exactness of the plan [replicating the layout on the workpiece].
If you’re in the market for a massive, heavy laminated slab of Southern yellow pine for a workbench top, and can be in Wellman, Iowa, on October 15 for pickup, this news is for you.
The Abraham brothers (the brain trust behind Benchcrafted) have unearthed another cache of Roubo-worthy wood, this time in the form 1960s laminated beams. This stuff is 5-1/4″ thick, 22″ wide and 38′ long – but Jameel and Father John will cut them into 7′-8′ lengths (or whatever else you might want), and load them into your vehicle. Plus they’ll fill you up with bratwurst and offer rides in their vintage Porsches. They’ll also have some Benchcrafted vises on hand for sale.
Two 7′-8′ long chunks are $750 – that’s enough wood to make the bench from “The Anarchist’s Workbench.”
Editor’s note: In this Chair Chat, Chris gets a visitor and we conspire to hijack Lost Art Press while he’s gone. Rudy wonders how to get that “shiny brown finish,” and Chris explains his theory on creating Worm Holes. Please only read further if you dare to enter the area on the Lost Art Press blog reserved for the cool people who can appreciate deep quality humor.
