Today we started work on the workbench for the Cincinnati Museum Center’s new permanent exhibit, “Made in Cincinnati.” Our workbench is supposed to represent what woodworker Henry Boyd (1802-1886) might have used at his furniture business.
I decided to design a British-style joiner’s bench for the exhibit. It was tempting to build a German-style workbench, but Cincinnati’s German population was just beginning to blossom when Boyd was a young man. (In 1830, only 5 percent of the city’s population had German blood.)
So a British bench seemed more likely, based on the population at the time and the fact that this simple bench style was ubiquitous in 19th-century America. Also, Cincinnati was still a new city when Boyd was alive, so a bench that could be made quickly without a lot of material (or machinery, which entered Cincinnati in a big way circa 1850) made sense.
I know the bench above looks small. That’s because the floor space allotted to the workbench exhibit is only 20” x 60”. So I had to design the bench to fit the space and make it look realistic.
We’re building this bench with yellow pine, which was widely available in Cincinnati in the 19th century – it’s in all our old houses. We are building the bench using hide glue and cut nails – plus a linseed oil finish. In addition to the planing stop and holdfast holes, I’ll add a face vise powered by a wooden screw.
After we finish the bench, the museum’s staff will antique the piece so it looks shop-worn.
You can download my SketchUp drawing of the bench here. It requires five 10′-long 2x12s.
If you’d like to help us build Boyd’s bench, get in your car next Saturday (March 26) and join us at our Open Day in Covington, Ky. We’ll have the storefront open to the public from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., selling Lost Art Press books, Crucible tools and apparel. We’ll also assemble Boyd’s bench in the storefront. We welcome any and all gawkers and helpers.
P.S. Donating my time and money to this important exhibit is possible only because we hired Megan Fitzpatrick on full time. Without her help carrying our editorial load, I would have had to pass on this opportunity. And the reason we could hire Megan is because of your support. I’m not asking you to buy more stuff. I’m just saying thanks and letting you know that your support makes a difference.
We’re delighted with our first children’s book, “Cadi & the Cursed Oak” – especially because it was written by our own Kara Gebhart Uhl! And the illustrations, by Welsh artist Elin Manon, are a gorgeous accompaniment to Kara’ words.
Kara spent more than a year researching the many legends, facts and centuries-old stories of the Nannau Oak – a Welsh tree that measured 28′ around and was more than 900 years old when it fell in a storm in 1813. T
Legend has it that pieces crafted from the Nannau Oak are cursed – if you drink from one of the acorn cups made from its wood, the tree’s stories will haunt you. Kara wove the legends into a new children’s tale (suitable for ages 8 and up) that centers around Cadi, a Welsh stick chairmaker’s daughter.
The book is both a textual and visual delight.
We’re hosting a book release party for “Cadi & the Cursed Oak” at our shop on April 16, and will have a limited number of tickets available – details and links to register will be posted soon!
– Fitz
p.s. We did publish an English-language version of “Grandpa’s Workshop,” which was first published in France (our version is now out of print); “Cadi” is the first all-new kids’ book from Lost Art Press.
One of the frustrating aspects of editing a woodworking magazine was how little unplowed ground was left to explore. Well, let me put it another way: there was little ground that we were permitted to explore.
Most woodworking magazines stick to a steady diet of the following furniture styles: Vaguely Shaker, Somewhat Arts & Crafts, Kinda Colonial, Maybe Modern and If It’s Got Nails it Must be Country. Why do magazines stick to those styles? Because every survey of magazine readers indicates those are the styles that readers love. Put another way: Why do readers love these styles? Because they are the ones shown in the woodworking press.
Several of us beat our heads against the wall every month at editorial meetings to get people to try something different. From day one I advocated for campaign furniture. David Thiel pushed for Mid-Century Modern, and John the Intern was always on about “Some Kind of Chair.”
Sometimes the overlords threw us a bone, but mostly it was: “Come up with some kind of Shaker case piece for the next issue. And not too intimidating.”
The problem was, of course, that the Shaker style has been explored by every woodworking magazine, book publisher and online personality. The best Shaker pieces have been published a thousand times. The good ones have been published several hundred times. And now we are down to Shaker Toothpicks, Birdcalls and Corn Scrapers, a Comparative Study.
My secret love was (surprise) Welsh stick chairs, but I didn’t dare suggest we explore that topic in the magazine. I did manage to get a couple articles about chairmaking published in the early 2000s, but those seemed like strokes of luck or sheer will.
Today I get to write about what I want, and if no one buys it then it’s my financial problem. So lately I’ve been writing a lot about stick chairs. Why? It’s not like my enthusiasm for them has increased lately. I’ve been stupid in love with the form for more than 20 years. Instead, the reason I have put them front and center in my work is because this is an opportunity for all of us.
Stick chairs from many cultures are waiting to be discovered. I have been building these chairs for two decades and have barely scratched the surface of what is out there. Honestly, there are hundreds of stick chair forms yet to be explored. I threw out a few dozen examples in the “Sticktionary” chapter of “The Stick Chair Book,” but there are many more that are waiting for you to study and build.
There are pieces out there that absolutely pause my heart for a couple beats because they are so beautiful. Why aren’t those examples published here or in my book? Dealers and museums are stingy with photos of these chairs. I have collected hundreds (maybe thousands) of photos during the last 20 years, but I don’t have the rights to publish them. I have signed Non-disclosure Agreements (NDAs) in order to gain access to collections of these chairs. I have swapped private photos (hush hush, chair porn) with chairmakers and collectors around the world.
I want to invite you into this world. Here’s how it works. Haunt the websites of antique dealers who specialize in vernacular furniture. Collect their images and descriptions because sometimes these photos aren’t public for long. Then observe who follows these dealers (it’s easy to do this on social media). Follow them. And so on. It’s no different than looking at the bibliography in a book then investigating the bibliographies of those books.
It might sound like hard work, but it’s not. And here’s why: These chairs are everywhere once you start looking. Literally everywhere. They turn up at auction nearly every day, but they don’t merit academic study or an exhibit at a museum. (Because they aren’t Shaker, Stickley or commissioned by some industrialist.)
You can quickly become an expert. Find a form that you love. Explore the hell out of it, breaking new ground with every new piece that you build. You can easily surpass me.
Stick chairs aren’t the only undiscovered country in furniture. But they are the one I love. Find your own favorite furniture form and make other people love the crap out of it.
This six-stick comb-back chair with a narrow comb is probably my favorite design to make. It’s both a challenge to build and a delight to sit in.
This chair is built using bog oak excavated from Poland that’s between 2,000-4,000 years old. The wood was leftover from a stunning dining table commission built by local furniture maker Andy Brownell at Brownell Furniture.
All the wood came from one boule, yet the bog oak varies in color, which made things a challenge. The wood is also dense and difficult to bring to a high level of finish. As a result, there are a couple small bits of grain tear-out on this chair that were impossible for me to tame. As best I can tell, this ancient oak is as strong as contemporary oak. This particular tree grew very fast, so it has lots of tough earlywood.
This chair is set up for dining or relaxing. The back leans 15° off the seat, and the seat is tilted 5°, so the back is a generous 20° off the floor. The seat is 16-1/2” above the floor, which is a good height for most sitters. Overall, the chair is 39” tall, 28” wide, 23” deep and weighs 16-1/2 pounds.
Like all my chairs, the joints are assembled with hide glue and oak wedges, so the joints are strong but can be easily repaired by future generations. The shoe and arm of the chair are also secured with two blacksmith-made rosehead nails.
The finish is a home-cooked linseed oil/wax finish that has no dangerous solvents. The finish offers low protection, but it is easy to repair by the owner with no special skills or tools.
Purchasing the Chair
This chair is being sold via silent auction. (I’m sorry but the chair cannot be shipped outside the U.S.) If you wish to buy the chair, send an email to lapdrawing@lostartpress.com before 3 p.m. (Eastern) on Friday, March 18. In the email please use the subject line “Chair Sale” and include your:
First name and last name
U.S. shipping address
Daytime phone number (this is for the trucking quote only)
Shipping options: You are welcome to pick up the chair here in Covington, Ky., and also get a free yardstick. I am happy to deliver the chair personally for free within 100 miles of Cincinnati, Ohio. Or we can ship it to you via LTL. The cost varies (especially these days), but it is usually between $200 and $300.
A note on silent auctions: Several people have asked how much previous chairs have sold for via silent auction. Sorry, but that is the “silent” part. I have no desire to run up the price unnecessarily. So bid what you think is fair; that’s all we ask. It’s fair to say that the prices for the chairs sold at silent auction go for far more (two times or three times) the typical $1,400 price when we sell chairs via a random drawing. So for the guy who keeps bidding $100 – we love your confidence.
I apologize if this is frustrating for people who want a chair. I want you to have one, too. I love these chairs and would love to see them in many more homes.
Hayward (1898-1998) was, in our opinion, the most important workshop writer and editor of the 20th century. Unlike any person before (and perhaps after) him, Hayward was a trained cabinetmaker and extraordinary illustrator, not to mention an excellent designer, writer, editor and photographer.
Add to all that the fact that Hayward was, according to Robert Wearing, a “workaholic,” and you have a good picture as to why we spent almost eight years laboring to bring this book to life to honor his work. As editor of The Woodworker magazine from 1939 to 1967, Hayward oversaw the transformation of the craft from one that was almost entirely hand-tool based to a time where machines were common, inexpensive and had displaced the handplanes, chisels and backsaws of Hayward’s training and youth.
Our Hayward project – it covers five books in total – seeks to reprint a small part of the information Hayward published in The Woodworker during his time as editor in chief. This is information that hasn’t been seen or read in decades. No matter where you are in the craft, from a complete novice to a professional, you will find information here you cannot get anywhere else.
This is one of the most important processes in woodwork because the whole accuracy of the work depends upon it. No matter how true the cutting of joints, etc., may be, the result will be largely a failure unless the preliminary marking has been correct. Care taken then is essential, and there is a safe rule that can always be followed. Measure twice before cutting once.
GENERALLY the knife or chisel is the best to use for marking because it gives closer accuracy than the pencil. It is definite, and the last mark is as sharp as the first. In the case of the pencil, the point inevitably becomes blunt, makes a wide mark, and so leaves room for uncertainty. There are, however, cases in which the knife cannot be used because it would leave a mark which could not be removed later. A clear example of this is the marking of chamfers or mortises. In the case of the chamfer a mark with knife or gauge would cut in square with the surface, whereas the chamfer is made at an angle. In a mortise the knife would be taken right across and would leave little incisions at the corners which could not be taken out unless the edges were planed unduly. There are, however, many cases where the knife cut is either concealed or cut away, and then the accuracy of the knife is then undoubtedly an advantage.
Marking in sets. In the majority of cases parts are required in sets of two or more. For example, the ends of a cabinet must be the same size, and have joints occurring in the same relative positions; doors must have their stiles equal in length; and drawers must have their sides exactly the same length. It is therefore desirable to fix corresponding parts together and square the marks across both. As an example of this take the ends of, say, a chest of drawers, such as that in Fig. 1. To mark each end separately with the rule would leave the possibility of a wide margin of error. By fixing the two together as shown, the marks giving the positions of the rails can be squared across the edges of both, so that, when later they are separated and the marks squared across the inner faces, they are bound to be alike. Furthermore the short inner division can be cramped with them and shoulder lines made exact with the others. This is a case when the pencil (sharpened to a keen point) is generally used because the marks must not appear later at the edge. However, if the marks are very lightly made they will be planed out when the edges are bevelled after assembling.
Marking a door. Another similar case is that of the door shown in Fig. 2, in which the stiles can be cramped together to enable the mortises to be squared across both. It would be desirable to mark the intermediate stiles from them, but, as these are tenoned whereas the long stiles are mortised, the knife would be used for the one and the pencil for the other. The best plan then is to mark the two long stiles with pencil, and then place one short stile on them and transfer the shoulder marks as shown. This can then be cramped to the other intermediate stile and the marks squared across both with the knife.
In general marking out the rule is mostly used, and we may note that it is always better to use a long rule for a big job, because, if, say, a board over 6 ft. has to be marked with a 2 ft. rule, the latter will have to be placed over four times along the work, and there is the possibility of error each time. It cannot always be helped, but it is better to avoid shifting the rule when practicable. This is made clear in Fig. 3.
Another point in connection with the use of the rule is that it should always be used with its edge to the wood so that the markings actually touch the latter. Otherwise, if it is placed on its side, a different measurement may be registered according to whether the eye is immediately above, or to one side or the other.
Transfering marks. When one part has to fit another, as when a door is made to fit a carcase, it is better to mark off the parts from the carcase rather than use the rule. The reason is that in the latter case the carcase has first to be measured and then the size transferred to the door parts. In other words, there are two operations, each with the chance of a slight error. By offering one stile to the job itself, as in Fig. 4, A, the marking is bound to be accurate (allowing for trimming and fitting). Afterwards the corresponding parts are fixed together and the marks squared across both as already explained. In the case of the rails, the stiles can be placed in position as at B, and a rail held across them so that the shoulder length can be obtained.
Odd sizes. Sometimes odd measurements have to be made for which the rule would be awkward. Suppose, for instance, a board has to be divided up into seven equal parts, and the over-all length is odd—say 4 ft, 4-3∕8 ins. To do this with the rule would be very awkward. The better plan is to use dividers, as at A, Fig. 5. Step out the distance seven times by trial and error, resetting the dividers to correct the measurement if the stepping is full or short. A good guide for the correction required is as follows. Step out the whole distance, and if the measurement is full, divide the amount of the fullness into seven parts, as near as you can judge it, and lessen the dividers by one part. This will not be exact, but it is a good guide. Afterwards the distance can be stepped again and a further correction made if necessary.
By the way, always step the dividers along a straight line as at A, Fig. 5, otherwise there may be an error owing to the dividers making staggered marks, as at B. Dividers are also useful for stepping out distances around a curve.
Marking round curves. Sometimes a cylindrical surface has to be divided into equal parts (A, Fig. 6), and it would obviously be awkward, not to say impossible, to use the rule. The simplest plan is to cut a length of thin, pliable card to fit around the shape, as at B, the ends meeting exactly. This can then be laid flat and divided into the number of parts required, as at C. It is afterwards replaced and the marks transferred to the wood, so dividing up the curve as required.