I have a few important restock notices today. We’ve just posted a big batch of Crucible 4” Sliding Bevels. The machine shop is cranking them out as fast as they can, and we hope to catch up with demand before February.
Also – we have Crucible Card Scrapers back in stock. I wish I could blame the supply chain crisis for these being out of stock, but that would be a lie. I plum forgot to order the steel when we ran low on the tools and then – bam – we ran out.
The other news is that we have chore coats in stock in the new cavalry twill. Tom Bonamici, our clothing designer, wrote this up about the new fabric.
“We’ve tried a few different fabrics for our chore coat. The first was a hauntingly nice heavy sateen from Japan, custom-woven for the project. It was amazing, but outrageously expensive. Like, sell-a-kidney expensive. So we switched to a nice sturdy brushed twill from a U.S. vendor for the next two production runs.
“For our latest run, which is now available, we’ve switched to a mid-weight cotton cavalry twill from Brisbane Moss, a long-running mill in West Yorkshire, England. Cavalry twill is a tightly woven hard-wearing double twill, originally developed for military riding breeches. It’s very similar in construction to wool whipcord, with a harder face that’s easy to brush clean of sawdust and plane shavings. And it’s slightly lighter weight than our last two fabrics, making a chore coat that’s really the perfect weight for a year-round layer in the shop.
“The coat’s construction is the same as ever – reinforced lower pockets, custom debossed buttons, and a fit on the trim side of regular. And we’re proud to keep working with Sew Valley here in Cincinnati for the cut and sew.”
One more note about the coats. We had them listed at $135, which was a price we were selling out some small sizes in the old material. I forgot to restore the price back to $165. So some of y’all got the bargain of the year (I know, it’s early in the year).
Norwegian forest workers wondering where all the stick chairs are.
All the factors should be in place.
Trees? Check.
More than 2,000 years of well-documented woodworking and other crafting traditions? Check.
A large countryside with huge distances and scattered, isolated villages? Check.
A long and proud history of self-sufficiency and homesteading? Check and check.
So how come I can’t find any vernacular stick chairs in this country?
I have no idea.
Norway can be a harsh place to live. Both the arctic climate and our expressive topography has made it necessary for previous generations to employ both survival skills and creativity. Some would also claim that the urge to live in isolation is embedded in our genes and culture. Many farms and villages are still situated in roadless areas only accessed by boat or mountain trails. The off grid, primitive and quiet life is an integral part of our heritage. It’s so popular that even one of our most popular shows on national TV is a documentary series about Norwegians living off grid. It’s been running in the prime-time slot for 20 years.
You might wonder where I’m going with this. Well, I’m just trying to make the point that I’m surprised we don’t have a stronger tradition of making stick chairs here. People led simple and primitive lives, often poor and in relative isolation. Your nearest neighbor would often be behind the next mountain. Everything would have to be made on the farm using available resources or perhaps made by a traveling craftsman. When it comes to chairs, I would suspect that primitive stick chairs were the norm. Mortising sticks or even branches into a seat is an ancient construction method that’s quick and easy and has been around since they built the pyramids.
Hoem Farm, 2018. Someone must have made a stick chair here once.
I’ve searched through books, libraries, visited farms, antique shops, collections, talked to conservators, collectors, professors and myself. All I’ve ever found are either joined chairs, ladderback chairs or log chairs.
Log chair. Not a stick chair.Ladderback chair. Also not a stick chair.Joined chair. Definitely not a stick chair.
Lost and Found
I was about to give up. Then I talked to Chris Williams, the Welsh chairmaker and Lost Art Press author. I told him about my quest and why it meant so much to me. I’ve always preferred primitive stick chairs over anything else because I feel they’re so bare and honest. I’m a sucker for simplistic beauty and decay aesthetics. Chris told me to keep searching and said he was positive that something would turn up. I’m not sure how he would know, but I took his word for it. So I kept digging and, lo and behold, one day I came across this creature:
This is a staked stool found in a Goahti, the traditional hut or tent that our indigenous Sámi use to live in. It was found and documented by Asbjørn Nesheim (1906-1989), who was a pioneer researcher of Sámi people culture and ways of life. At a first glance it might not look that special, but I knew immediately that I’d never seen anything like it. It’s a primitive, staked construction. Probably made by the same person who needed a place to sit.
The unique thing here though is the use of the natural crook or root used for the seat. Naturally bent wood is often seen in Welsh stick chairs, both old and modern. Though almost always in the arm or the back of the chairs. And I knew right away that I’ve never seen a crook used like this in a stool before. To make a long story short, finding out more about this tradition became a new obsession for me. And I found several more. All over the country, both in Sámi and Norwegian culture. I’ve never seen them before and suddenly they’re popping up everywhere. It’s like when you learn a new word and suddenly you see it everywhere.
Wildly Grown Speculations
Considering that they show up all over Norway over a time span of at least 200 years, my hopeful conclusion is that this particular construction method and style got traction and became somewhat popular. Which is not unlikely, as it’s quick, sturdy and light. Norway is also chock full of crooked mountain birches and other wonky species.
I’m also guessing that stools and benches were more popular than chairs. Hence the abundance of stools and the lack of stick chairs. Chairs were a luxury. You can be really comfortable on a bench or a stool, especially if you can lean your back towards the wall. Therefore, it might not be worth the effort putting a back on them. Stools are also light and versatile. They can easily be carried around, out on the porch, into the barn and around the house.
Norwegian mountain birch
Uncovering Old Tracks
For a long time I had a bunch of old photos of these “half moon stools”, but no further information. Then one day I finally found a 1943 publication from a museum where the aforementioned researcher Asbjørn Nesheim had published a brief article. Each time he visited the Sámi people, he often stumbled across these stools and became fascinated with them. They seemed to show up everywhere he went, but no one het met could specify their origin. Which probably means that they’ve “always been there”. This was all just a sidetrack from his much broader studies of Sámi culture, but he was so intrigued that he wrote an article about the stools. His 4-page article ends with the following (translated by me):
“This article has looked at a part of Sámi culture that is neither large, nor very significant. However, this is where we get a closer look into highly developed skills within the Sámi people. These skills are essential for their highly evolved wilderness culture: ingenuity and adaptiveness. Studying their vernacular furniture also raises the question whether there has been cultural contact and exchanges between Sámi people and non-Sámi people. Taking this into consideration, I would like to call for further information or knowledge about the origins of the “half moon stool.”
These Sámi people probably had a stool, but didn’t have it ready for the photo.
These are all very good points being made. Keep in mind though that the reason he asks whether there could have been a cultural exchange, is that there wasn’t expected to have been one. The indigenous Sámi people suffered well over 100 years of ugly and shameful oppression from Norway, officially until 1959.
From what I can make of it, Asbjørn Nesheim’s quest ended there. And thereby also mine for now. If he ever got his call for help answered and got to know more about the origin and tradition of these unique stools, I haven’t been able to find out about it. However, I’m thrilled to have found a type of stool that seems to be both unique and deeply rooted in tradition. How it ended up all across the country, I don’t know. I’m also curious to why it has disappeared in tradition. No one seems to either remember them, how they learned to make them or why they make them just like that. It’s a mystery to me that we don’t know more about these stools. They’ve been around for centuries, obviously adapted by the nonindigenous and spread throughout the country. Are they perhaps so commonplace that they just disappear from our collective memories?
A beautiful, primitive Half Moon Stool. Made in Setesdal, Norway, 1862.
Finally, I’ll leave you with a little cliffhanger:Asbjørn Nesheim also came across a few very interesting chairs when studying Sámi culture. There were only a few and he didn’t go very much into detail, but they’re interesting. I have never seen anything like them. I’ll come back to them in a later post. If you have anything to add or tell me about Half Moon Stools or similar construction techniques, feel free to contact me directly or share it here in the comments! I’d love to know more.
Some people were left confused by the correction to “The Anarchist’s Workbench” I posted yesterday. And I don’t blame you – the ideas of right and wrong, correct and incorrect were being juggled furiously in the entry.
So let’s start over.
Construction lumber is usually sold in a wetter state than furniture wood. I’ve bought about four metric tons of it in my time, and it seems to come in about 14 percent to 18 percent moisture content on average. That means that as the wood dries to your shop’s equilibrium moisture content, the board is going to move a bit on you.
When wood loses moisture, the bark side of the board (the outside of the tree) tends to cup. The heart side of the board (the inside of the tree) tends to bow out. See my drawing above.
If you need to laminate the construction lumber face to face – such as gluing up four layers to make a big workbench leg – you should use the above fact to your advantage.
I glue up my legs so the heart side of one board faces the bark side of its neighbor. That way as the boards dry, they will all move in unison and keep the joints closed. Like this:
If you flip one of the boards, so the heart side faces the heart side of its neighbor, the edges of the lamination tend to open up as the boards dry. Like this:
If you glue the bark side to the bark side of its neighbor, the interior of the lamination tends to open up.
I’ve seen this happen. I’ve never seen the joint fall apart because of it, but it ain’t pretty to look at.
I hope you will forgive me for yesterday’s confusion. In the coming days I’ll correct the free pdf.
Fig. 4-1. Moving fillister. This moving fillister has a brass depth stop that is adjusted with the knob on top, along with an adjustable fence upon which this plane is standing. The iron is skewed across the sole and has a nicker ahead of the cutting edge for shearing wood fibers while working across the grain.
The following is excerpted from “Mouldings in Practice,” by Matthew Sheldon Bickford. The book turns a set of complicated mouldings into a series of predictable rabbets and chamfers that guide your hollow and round planes to make anything – anything – that has been made in the past or that you can envision for your future projects. The expert instruction is accessible for even the beginning hand-tool woodworker. It uses more than 200 color illustrations and dozens of photos to explain how to lay out, prepare for and cut any moulding you can draw.
Hollows and rounds have no depth stops and no fences, and they have cutting edges that are difficult to maintain. So how do we guide these planes? Is it not a trial to keep them sharp? The solution to both questions is a rabbeting plane.
Rabbets, which are grooves along the edge of a board, along with chamfers (or bevels), are the basis for all mouldings when using hollows and rounds. These rabbets serve three purposes: creating chutes in which the planes travel, creating guides that serve to gauge your progress, and removing as much material as possible with an edge that’s easy to maintain and easy to guide.
Cut Rabbets with a Rabbet Plane. All the moulding profiles discussed in this book begin with a series of rabbets and/or chamfers. These two shapes define the final moulding profile. Therefore, accuracy is crucial. Much of your time making moulding is spent laying out the profiles and transferring those layouts onto the wood via rabbets. Only an efficient method of executing these steps will lead to success. There are many methods.
Ventures through the Internet, books or magazines will introduce you to many tools for cutting rabbets, including fenced rabbet planes, moving fillisters and plow planes. A rabbet plane with a fixed fence and fixed depth stop needs only to be pressed against the side of a board, held vertically and swiped until the plane’s depth stop bottoms out and the plane stops cutting. It produces one rabbet of a fixed width and depth along the edge of a board.
A moving fillister plane might seem more versatile than a fixed rabbet plane. You can, of course, create rabbets of any width by adjusting the tool’s fence. Its depth stop can also be adjusted so that the plane cuts rabbets of various depths. Limitations still exist.
Though the plow plane is slightly different than a moving fillister, it also has an adjustable fence with (usually) an adjustable depth stop. A plow plane, in conjunction with a chisel, can be used to aggressively remove material along the edge of a board. In addition, a plow can cut grooves in the center of a board, which is necessary for some mouldings.
A moving fillister and plow plane are very useful when creating single rabbets of equal depth and width in different boards. But they have shortcomings. Most profiles start with multiple rabbets of varying dimensions. Each time one rabbet is completed and the next is started, the fence and depth stop need to be changed. In addition, many of the mouldings involve chamfering a corner of a rabbet. When using fenced planes, it will be necessary to set up a second plane to execute this brief step.
A fence and depth stop predetermine the order in which rabbets must be cut. This predefined order is not always efficient. Finally, there are circumstances in larger profiles when the surfaces upon which the fence and depth stop register are lost as subsequent rabbets are added.
Fig. 4-2. Plow plane. This plow plane also has a brass depth stop, this time on the opposite side of the iron, that is adjusted with the brass knob on top. The plane is leaning upon its fence, which is adjusted by the wedged arms protruding through the plane’s body. When using my plow to make rabbets, I use only the thinnest iron. That iron allows for the most aggressive cut.
The Simple Rabbet Plane. For mouldings, an unfenced rabbet plane is ideal for the craftsman looking to use fewer planes. The simple rabbet plane has no depth stop and no fence. Therefore, each time a new rabbet with new dimensions in a new place along the board is needed, nothing needs to be adjusted. Despite this lack of guides, it is possible to be as accurate with this plane as you are with any gauge line made by a marking gauge.
Rabbet planes with no fence or depth stop excel at making mouldings because almost all profiles require multiple rabbets of varying dimensions.
A rabbet plane that is 7/8″ wide will cut rabbets as wide as the plane’s sole and as narrow as you want or need. There are few limitations to this plane. Contrary to common belief, at times you will wish for a plane that is slightly more narrow, 5/8″, but rarely for one that is wider. Among other things, a smaller plane will let you see inside the escapement when adding a small chamfer in a tight area. This narrow plane also allows these facets to be added in tighter spaces while keeping the sharp corners of the tool away from the surrounding facets. Additionally, the individual rabbets you need to cut are rarely wider than 7/8″, even for the large, complex mouldings.
I prefer a rabbet plane of this width, 7/8″, because I like to use approximately half of the plane’s sole in normal circumstances. I am able to comfortably reach under the plane and use my fingers as a fence against the edge of a board which, as you will see, is vital. If you have large hands, a narrow rabbet of 5/8″ will likely suit you better because you will use less of your fingertips. Many people simply prefer a narrower plane for this type of work because it is easier to recognize the vertical axis when holding a thin, tall plane body.
Rabbet: Setup & Use. When setting the iron of a rabbet plane it is important that the iron’s cutting edge be parallel to the sole. Additionally, it is vital that the iron’s side projects very slightly from the side of the rabbet plane’s body where the cut occurs. If the iron’s side is instead flush to the side of the plane it will be impossible for the plane to cut down into the wood vertically. The side of the iron must not be sharpened; if the side of the iron is sharp, it will scrape the vertical portion of the rabbet, or fillet. This will increase the rabbet’s width with each subsequent pass and can potentially clog the plane.
Holding an unfenced rabbet plane with no depth stop might seem intimidating. It is not necessarily obvious how it works. Some woodworkers think it is an inaccurate tool and has the singular use of cleaning up surfaces that were created by other planes. Perhaps you have read how some woodworkers attach a batten, or auxiliary fence, to the work for the rabbet to follow. This works, but it is another unnecessary step that consumes time and effort in some situations, and is useless in others. When working with a simple rabbet plane, here are the basic steps to follow.
Step 1: Mark the size of the rabbet with a marking gauge along the board’s face, edge and two ends.
Fig. 4-3. Tilting a rabbet plane. My fore and middle finger, located in front of the cutting edge, help lead the plane down the length of the stock. Pressure is applied from the top of the plane toward your body, the sole and cutting edge. Do not apply this force away from your body against the side of the plane. This second method may result in the iron’s side scraping the far side of the gauge line and slightly widening the rabbet prior to starting.
Step 2: Pinch the plane with your thumb leading on top and your forefingers along the bottom. Hold the plane at an angle with its corner pressed into your gauge line. The plane will want to stay in that line. Use your fingers as a fence and take two passes. The plane’s corner will want to stay in the gauge line; your fingers will help it.
Fig. 4-4. Tip the plane substantially. The closer it is to 45°, the easier it will be for it to stay in the gauge line.
You have created a “V.” That “V” will give some slight room for error in the following step. The more rabbets you cut, the less you will use this second step.
Figs. 4-5 & 4-6. Holding square. The fore and middle fingers of my leading hand are guiding the plane while my trailing hand applies most of the forward force. Be certain to hold the plane square, which is gauged by the existence of a full-width shaving.
Step 3: Hold the plane vertically (see Figs. 4-5 and 4-6). Keep the plane pinched in the same manner with your leading hand. This is the more difficult step because your fingers are now the only guide. Start taking passes and keep the corner of the plane and iron that are on the escapement side of the plane inside of your “V.” If you miss, try to miss toward the edge closest to you. (I do not watch the corner of the iron during this phase. I sight down the side of the plane’s body and watch the edge of the body in front of the iron. A pencil line drawn in the “V” will help the novice.)
Be certain that the plane you’re holding is vertical. A full-width shaving should be ejected at all times. After only a few passes, the fillet of the rabbet will be developed to the extent that your fenced fingers will be less necessary. At this stage you can become less careful and more aggressive by increasing your speed. Wispy shavings that flutter in the air are fun, but not here.
Your progress then should be closely monitored in two ways. First, make certain that the plane is being held vertically by comparing the floor of the rabbet with the previously marked gauge lines on the two ends of the work. Second, measure the depth of the rabbet against the gauge line running along the board’s edge. Take abbreviated passes along areas with high spots. The goal is to make one full-width, perpendicular shaving that removes the gauge line in its entirety on your final pass.
Figs. 4-7 & 4-8. Horizontal work. Hold the rabbet plane horizontal to clean up the vertical fillet. Clean-up will be necessary if you wandered from the gauge line at any stage or if the vertical fillet is a finished surface to appear in the final profile. Be aware that, depending on the season the rabbet plane was made and the season that it currently is (or the age of the plane) the iron may protrude too heavily on this opposite side or not at all. This can affect the results if several passes are necessary.
Step 4: If at any stage the plane was held out of vertical for several passes, or if the plane strayed from the gauge line, the vertical fillet along the back of the rabbet will not be perpendicular to the rabbet’s floor. To fix this, tip the plane on its face to clean the fillet.
As discussed, there are several ways to make a rabbet. This is a simple method when dealing with square stock because it involves one plane from start to finish. Other methods involve multiple planes and/or other tools such as chisels.
A metal shoulder plane, along with many other planes that have an iron that projects to the edge, can perform this task. This is not ideal, however, because they are heavy and do not easily eject their shavings.
In this way, a wooden rabbet plane is a luxury. Its tall body helps you find vertical easily. Its light weight allows you to be aggressive. Its escapement grants you speed. Its lack of a depth stop and fence allow you to cut the next rabbet with no adjustments. A simple rabbet plane can cut rabbets of any width less than their own – a 1/16″-wide rabbet is easily executed with a 7/8″-wide rabbet plane. When a corner needs to be chamfered, and roughly a third of your corners will, you don’t need to find a new plane and set it up.
Adding a chamfer with a rabbet plane is also a straightforward process. Your fingers will again serve as a fence. Progress will be gauged by sight. Look at the surrounding facets. Not only should the chamfer be of a uniform width, but the adjoining horizontal and vertical surfaces need to be uniform. Hold the plane at the desired angle and stop at the desired depth.
Fig. 4-9. Chamfering. Again, my fore and middle fingers are guiding the plane. When possible, I allow my trailing fingers to fall upon the workpiece. This will help gauge uniformity.
Fig. 4-10. Even shavings and results. Your goal when creating a chamfer is uniformity. All care, however, should not be paid toward this goal because efficiency is also warranted. Work for consistency, but do not demand it. The length of the hollow plane to follow will overcome moderate variations. The width of the plane’s sole in relation to the chamfer will overcome slight facets. Watch the surrounding horizontal and vertical facets. If these features look uniform from afar they are perfect for this step. Do not reach for your double square.
Note: Using a plane on its corner for the first few passes will eventually cause problems. A significant amount of wear will occur on the single point that runs in the gauge line. In time this edge will become slightly rounded and will not sit in a gauge line. Many antique planes show evidence of re-establishing that corner lost to wear. Some soles have been planed back so much that they approach the tool’s escapement; sometimes the face has been planed off to re-establish the sharp corner.
Fig. 4-11. Boxed corner. The boxing on this rabbet plane will help that corner of the plane remain sharp longer. It will not, of course, help the opposite, unboxed edge. The unboxed edge is used less often, but it is still used.
The solution? “Boxing” a corner of a rabbet plane is recommended if you use a rabbet on its edge. Boxing is where you inlay a wear-resistant species, such as boxwood, into the corner of the tool. This reduces that wear and the inevitable loss of that corner.
A table saw or other power tool is also an economical method for creating rabbets. When creating a large profile I often opt for this method. Getting rabbets close on a table saw then fine-tuning them with a rabbet plane is an efficient way to work. The main problem I have when using a table saw is that, after multiple passes, it will often turn a long, straight piece of thin wood into a long, bowed piece of wood that will become difficult to hold and then work. It is also dangerous to run many profiles to completion on power tools because the final product often has a triangular cross section.
Rabbet plane use begets rabbet plane use. The more you use a rabbet plane and the more comfortable you become with one, the less you will opt for the table saw. You will gravitate toward efficiency and effectiveness, which a rabbet plane allows.
Fig. 4-12. With the table saw. An errant pass across the table saw, with the blade raised too high, can quickly change the final profile drastically. Do not bother with 1/100ths on the saw. Do not feel like every rabbet on a single piece needs to be executed in this fashion because you’re already there. The risk of an extra rabbet can easily outweigh the reward of saving the three minutes it will take to do it by hand.
This last point will bring up the argument, “If efficiency and effectiveness are the goal, why not stay with a router in the first place?” I can create most profiles three days faster than a router user, unless he pays for overnight delivery of his specialized tooling (in which case I will only beat him by 24 hours). But I digress.
There are so many things that I admire about my spouse, Lucy, that I could easily double the size of this blog by starting a list of them. We’ve been married 29 years, have raised two fiercely intelligent women and I still love spending every waking moment with her.
One of the thousand bonds that we share has been our dedication to front-line work. Neither of us ever wanted to move into management and have remained front-line writers throughout our careers.
Lucy has been a professional journalist at several daily newspapers, a weekly business newspaper and – most recently – as a TV reporter at WCPO-TV here in Cincinnati. While many journalists burn out after about a decade of covering this miserable world, Lucy has been on the front lines for more than 31 years, covering everything from the Kentucky Legislature to crime to difficult issues of homelessness and race.
And this month, Lucy starts a new job as the host of “Cincinnati Edition” on WVXU-FM, our local National Public Radio affiliate in Cincinnati. It’s the perfect job for her. She has been an NPR nerd as long as I’ve known her, and has been a huge booster for WVXU ever since we moved to the Cincinnati area in 1996.
This new position keeps her on the front lines – she’ll have a show five times a week that focuses on local news. And yet it will allow her to use her vast perspective on the city to help listeners make sense of the news. Lucy was born here, grew up here and has long been a fiercely independent journalist. She can get almost any Democrat, Republican or Charterite on the phone for an interview with ease because she has a reputation for fairness, thoughtfulness and (this is odd for a journalist) kindness.
I can’t wait to see what she is going to do.
Why am I telling you this? Because if it weren’t for this woman, we wouldn’t have Lost Art Press. John and I call her “madame president” – and mean it. She packed boxes, sold books and – most of all – said “quit your job” when I wanted to leave Popular Woodworking Magazine and do this stupidness.
So today this blog is for Lucy, who has made the lives of thousands of people – including me – better.
Your biggest fan,
Christopher Schwarz
P.S. You can read the “official” story of Lucy’s new job here.
P.P.S. Don’t bother leaving a nasty comment about journalists or NPR. No one will see it.
