Lost Art Press

Free Download: ‘The Joiner and Cabinet Maker’ Audiobook, Read by Roy Underhill

Posted on by fitz
Roy Underhill in his office, recording the audiobook of “The Joiner and Cabient Maker.”

“The Joiner and Cabinet Maker” is a short book written by an anonymous tradesman; it was first published in 1839. It tells the fictional tale of Thomas, a lad of 13 or 14 who is apprenticed to a rural shop, that builds everything from built-ins to more elaborate veneered casework. The book was written to guide young people who might be considering a life in the joinery or cabinetmaking trades, and every page is filled with surprises.

Unlike other woodworking books of the time, “The Joiner and Cabinet Maker” focuses on how apprentices can obtain the basic skills needed to work in a hand-tool shop. It begins with Thomas tending the fire to keep the hide glue warm, and it details how he learns stock preparation, many forms of joinery and casework construction. It ends with Thomas building a veneered mahogany chest of drawers that is French polished. However, this is not a book for children. It is a book for anyone exploring hand-tool woodworking.

Even more delightful is that Thomas builds three projects during the course of his journey in the book, and there is enough detail in the text and illustrations to re-create these three projects just as they were built in 1839.

When Lost Art Press published the expanded edition* of “The Joiner and Cabinet Maker” in 2011, a teacher of autistic students approached LAP about an audiobook of the original 1839 text to help teach craft history. Their students weren’t able to read the book, but they could listen to it. So we asked the inimitable Roy Underhill to help us out. He brought not only his hand-tool knowledge but his excellent thespian training to the project.

Why don’t we offer audiobooks of more of our books? Well, they are the posters of our aural world…which is to say this one made no money. Was it worthwhile? Absolutely – it helped an underserved audience of students. But it took a lot of investment of various resources, and we do have lots of cats to keep in kibble.

But because the audiobook made almost no money, we’ve decided to now offer it free to blog readers. You can download the 22 zipped mp3 files below for 125 minutes of listening pleasure. When you click the button below, the file will likely go directly to you “downloads” folder. (Yes, we are sure the link works; we have checked it a dozen times.)

Audiobook The Joiner and Cabinet MakerDownload

— Fitz

*The expanded edition of “The Joiner and Cabinet Maker” includes not only the original text, but a historical snapshot of England in the early 19th century by Joel Moskowitz, and chapters on building the three projects (a Packing Box, a dovetailed Schoolbox and a Chest of Drawers), plus complete plans, from Christopher Schwarz.

The Lost Art Press Minicab

Posted on by Lost Art Press

Running an active workshop and publishing company in an inner city has its challenges, especially when it comes to moving stuff from Point Lumberyard to Point Workbench to Point Truck Terminal. Every week Megan and I move stuff – 500 woobies, 500 board feet of cherry, 500 lump hammers – to keep the business going.

I have a pickup truck for this, and it works great. But recently I found something more appealing.

While teaching at the Florida School of Woodwork last month, Kate Swann loaned me her Mitsubishi Minicab, a Japanese Kei-class truck. Those of you who have followed me for a while might remember that I used to fix up Volkswagen Karmann Ghias. I adore simple, well-made machines. But I sold my last Ghia because I couldn’t bear to expose these gorgeous cars to the Midwest winters (we’ve never had the luxury of a garage).

After about two days of driving Kate’s Minicab, I fell in love. The trucks are insanely simple: stick shift, three-cylinder engine, less than 50 horsepower, 45-55 mpg and right-hand drive. All that appealed to my affection for old cars. But what really sold me was the truck’s bed in the back. It is perfectly suited for what we do. The bed is only 25” off the ground and measures 53” x 76”. And all three walls fold down so you can load from any side (or even use it as a flatbed). Plus lots of tie-downs. 

The trucks are not designed for interstate use (many states prohibit them on interstates), and the most comfortable top speed is about 45 mpg. I see this as a huge bonus.

One of the things I loved about my Ghias was taking trips without using the interstates. I used to drive to Charleston, S.C., to see my dad in a Ghia. Getting off the interstate is my favorite way to travel. You see the country in a new way. You see far more Main Streets, interesting architecture and beautiful vistas (and you can pull over without being flattened).

Yes, it takes a lot longer, but it is far more satisfying. (Insert obvious hand-tool comparison here.)

So I bought a Minicab from a dealer in Tennessee that imports them. It’s a 1996 model with 4WD and has less than 17,000 miles on it (these were utility trucks in Japan that were frequently driven around a factory or warehouse lot; the import papers and history of the truck show that the odometer has not been rolled over). And it was a bargain: $6,500.

And yesterday, Megan and I took it for a long spin to Fairfield, Ohio, to drop off a crate at the trucking terminal. It took 45 minutes (instead of 30), but we saw neighborhoods we’d never been in before – even though we’ve both lived here for decades.

Yes, there will be some misery. No AC, for example. But I drove Ghias for years in the South and managed fine (as did our ancestors).

Lucy and the kids have christened the Minicab the “CATBUS,” after the character in the movie, “My Neighbor Totoro.” While they have pushed me to paint the thing like the catbus character, we’re going with more conservative bling: our skep logo on the doors and six happy bees on different places on the truck.

So now you have one more reason to visit the storefront – to visit Catbus. We’ll have her in front of the store at our next open day, March 26.

— Christopher Schwarz

Now Shipping: The Crucible Microfiber Super Woobie

Posted on by Lost Art Press

Yes, it’s weird that I have put so much effort into making a custom rag. Yes, you could take an old gym sock or T-shirt, soak it in oil and get a similar result. But also yes: I would buy this custom rag if I didn’t already own one.

The Crucible Microfiber Super Woobie is our favorite (by far) microfiber towel – one that I have been using since 2011. We’ve embroidered it with “Don’t Despair: Nothing Without Labour,” plus a friendly bee.

I have been using this oil-soaked towel every day for 11 years to wipe down my tools before putting them away. It is a ritual that I look forward to because I know it works. Even though we live in the humid Ohio River Valley, I have zero corrosion on my steel tools. This towel holds a lot of oil, it dispenses it in a nice amount and it resists dirt. I’ve never had to launder my woobie.

To make these woobies special, we had a Covington, Ky., embroidery shop add “Don’t Despair: Nothing Without Labour” to the towel. The expression is one that shows up in literature in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. And is one we agree with.

We also added a bee. Bees have long been the symbol of industrious working people, especially woodworkers. The Super Woobies are $23 and are available for immediate shipment.

Back in Stock

Our machine shop has been working weekends to keep up with tool production. We are still behind on our Lump Hammers, though they should be back in stock later this week. We now have a good stock of Crucible Sliding Bevels. So if you have been waiting for one, act now. 

And, finally, we finally have lots of Lost Art Press woodworking pencils in stock. These USA-made pencils have been a strong seller. They are outstanding for woodworking because they are thicker than typical pencils and have a lead that marks well on wood. And they come in a nice box (also made in the USA).

— Christopher Schwarz

The One Where I Explain I Was Wrong

Posted on by Lost Art Press

When I began teaching woodworking in the early 2000s, I channeled my favorite Russian literature professor. It was a huge mistake.

When teaching students to saw, I barfed out everything about the topic I could muster – the historical and sociological context, the changes in tools and saw-tooth filing over the centuries, the different perspectives on the core techniques, plus a discussion of the cultural differences among the major Western civilizations that used saws.

Two hours and a dry mouth later, we began to cut wood. I knew my teaching approach was wrong, but I didn’t know how to fix it until one day I read about how some Japanese woodworkers teach the craft. First, the student watches the teacher perform the technique, who may or may not explain the task with words.

Then, when the student performs the task, the teacher would lay his or her hands on those of the student as they worked – showing how each tool is pulled, shifted and controlled during the cut.

At that moment, I put the book down and realized how my teaching had to change.

Just like with effective writing, teaching woodworking is about using the fewest words possible to explain something. And most of all, it is about showing – not telling. An example might help.

When I taught about marriage marks in my talkie era, I would explain how the marks worked and then show the students how to mark their work correctly. Inevitably, one or two students would ask about alternative marking-out methods, and they might even insist that a different method (colored dots, for example) was far superior.

This led to a back-and-forth discussion that was better suited to the beer hall than the classroom.

These days I mark all the students’ boards with marriage marks before class begins. I give a brief explanation of how to use them, and then we go to work. Inevitably, at some point during the day, a student will use the marriage marks to catch an error being made by a student at an adjacent bench.

And that’s when I explain their importance: Use the same system so others can help you. As the students are busy working (sawing, planing, whatever), I then expound on the “why” behind the marks. My explanation is available for people who want to know “why,” and it can be ignored by people who just want the “how.”

Here’s the funny thing. There are far fewer students who now question the marks because they find themselves in the middle of using them and relying on them. The genius of the marking system has already been shown to the student. And I didn’t have to tell or convince them.

Teaching has been a lot on my mind because I just spent seven days straight teaching two classes at The School of Woodwork in Florida. Because Lost Art Press has grown so much since 2018, I’ve been away from teaching for a while, even though it helps my writing, research and construction techniques. 

So I know I should teach a little – if only to test my ideas against those of much-smarter students. That’s why I agreed to do a chair class for scholarship students in July and the Chair Chat Class in October. And, because you have read this far (thanks!), I’ll let you know that I will teach one more chair class in 2022 (Sept. 19-23 at our storefront), which will be open to all students.

I don’t anticipate teaching on the road anymore. The year after I quit Popular Woodworking Magazine, I did 18 weeks of teaching all over the world. That’s not possible today with what Lost Art Press has become. But two or three classes a year? Sleeping in my own bed? Eating my own food? I think I can handle that.

Thanks to everyone who has been pestering me about this for the last three or four years. You were right.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you during a class. That costs extra.

Venetian Windows, from ‘Doormaking and Window-Making’

Posted on by fitz

The following is excerpted from “Doormaking and Window-Making,” by anonymous.

As the Industrial Revolution mechanized the jobs of the joiner – building doors and windows by hand – one anonymous joiner watched the traditional skills disappear and decided to do something about it. That joiner wrote two short illustrated booklets that explained how to build doors and windows by hand. And what was most unusual about the booklets is that they focused on the basics of construction, from layout to joinery to construction – for both doors and windows.

Plenty of books exist on building windows and doors, but most of them assume you have had a seven-year apprenticeship and don’t need to know the basic skills of the house joiner. Or the doors and windows these books describe are impossibly complex or ornamental.

“Doormaking and Window-Making” starts you off at the beginning, with simple tools and simple assemblies; then it moves you step-by-step into the more complex doors and windows.

Every step in the layout and construction process is shown with handmade line drawings and clear text. The booklets are written from a voice of authority – someone who has clearly done this for a long time.

During the last 100 years, most of these booklets disappeared. Booklets don’t survive as well as books. And so we were thrilled when we were approached by joiner Richard Arnold in England, who presented us with a copy of each booklet to scan and reproduce for a book.

VENETIAN, or, as they are sometimes called, mar­ginal light, windows are very fashionable at the present time, having in a great measure replaced the bay window, although the same style is some­times adapted to the bay, instead of the usual up­side-down sliding sashes. These windows are, as may be gathered from the drawings, of the casement variety, and the sashes should be made to open outwards if possible, this being the better way to keep out the wet.

In Fig. 108 we show one of these windows fitted with four lights or casements, the two outside ones being hinged to the jambs, and the two middle ones, which fold together, being hinged in like manner to the mullions. The casements in this frame run from sill to head, the upper part being divided into small squares as shown, which is the simplest way of forming an artistic window.

Another method of filling in these window frames is shown in Fig. 110, which shows the filling between the mullions. Here the casements are in two heights, the bottom pair being hinged in the ordinary way to the mullions ; the other, which is wide enough to fill the whole space, is hinged at the top, and opens outwards, the bottom rail of this fitting to the others either as section, Figs. 111 or 112. The former is the simplest way and least liable to get out of order, but the latter is best as regards the stopping out of wind and water; but when the window has been repainted a few times it is apt to work badly.

Windows made in this way are very convenient, as it is possible to have the top only open, or the whole, as required. The folding casements in either style of window come together with a rebated joint, as Fig. 113.

Suitable sections for head and sill for these frames are shown in Fig. 114, the grooves in the latter being to form a cement key under, and to take the window board. It will also be noticed that the bevel of the sill finishes with a hollow, forming an undercut rebate ; this should not be omitted, owing to its use as a water trap.