I hope no on has a heart attack upon reading this…but I will be turning in the completed manuscript for the long-promised Dutch Tool Chest book by the end of this month. This year. In two weeks.
Why is it so late? I am definitely the problem. I’m not great anymore at working 18 hours a day like I used to. And after a full day at work, well, I just want to go home and weed the garden (temperature allowing) – not stare at a screen. Or sit on the couch with my cats and read a book. But…that’s really no excuse. I’ve to some extent made myself busy during the day; Chris would absolutely have let me work less at the office and work more at home on the book. So there is no one to blame but me. I’ve become a lazy git. (See also: My house renovation is not done.) But the shame and pressure are now outweighing the laziness – on the book, not the house.
With that mea culpa out of the way:
I’m including a gallery of pictures from other makers that shows as many different interesting and effective layouts as possible of the interior. Cool adaptations for a specific set of tools. Cool adaptations for a non-specific set of tools. Interesting use of the spaces in the bay (or bays). Clever rolling bases. Wacky oversized (or undersized) chests. Mind-blowing uses of the back of the fall front and or/underside of the lid. You know – anything that is nifty and sets it apart from the basic interior shown below.
(Mind you, the basic interior works quite well. I like its flexibility, because my tool needs change depending on the class I’m teaching (this chest travels with me if I’m driving). In theory, anyway; 90 percent of my time on the road, I’m teaching either the ATC or DTC.
Never forget to pack your hair clip.
All images used in the book will, of course, be properly credited – and I’d love to include a sentence or two about your inspiration, and/or why you did what you did. I need high-resolution (at minimum, 300 dpi at 5″ x 7″), non-blurry, decently lit images. It would be great to have an overall shot of your chest open and closed, and detail shots of the clever bits. Please also include your name (as you wish it to appear) and your phone number, in case I am in desperate need of contacting you (though I’ll use email first…who talks on the phone anymore?!). The deadline for your submissions is June 7.
Here’s an excellent example of a clever idea…though a bad photo, hurriedly snapped by me during a class in our shop (it’s too close up, and without the context of more background, it’s a little hard to immediately understand that you’re looking at the side wall of the chest, outfitted with storage for large-diameter tools (how is it attached?!) and a clever pencil box. (Olivia, if you’re reading this and have time to send me better pictures…)
Please send pictures to me at fitz@lostartpress.com. (If the file sizes are too large to email, I can send you a WeTransfer or Dropbox invite – whatever you prefer.)
Detail shot of cleverness inside Olivia Bradley’s tool chest.
And thank you to those who’ve already sent submissions – I do still have them!
Join via Zoom (if you can’t make it to Bloomington, Ind., in person) at 6 p.m. Eastern on May 24, for the 2024 Rosemary Miller Lecture, this year celebrating the life and work of Nancy Hiller (1959-2022).
Duncan Campbell will speak about Nancy and her deep commitment to historic preservation, her superb writing and woodworking, and her all-around excellence.
The last year has been chaotic here at Lost Art Press as we doubled in size, bought a warehouse, fixed it up and launched new ways of teaching people the craft. This blog entry is a brief update on… everything. But especially the “teaching people the craft” part.
First let me say that printing good books will always be my No. 1 priority. Right now we have so many books backed up on our printing schedule that we are a bit frustrated. Printing schedules that are out of our control have stalled three books that should – by all rights – be out right now.
We have poured that frustration into other worthwhile projects. Most of that effort has been with our three “Substacks.” Substacks are just fancy blogs. They allow you to charge a subscription fee, and Lost Art Press gets the lion’s share of the money. What we like about Substack is that we can offer a good balance of free and paid content. We want everything to be free, of course, but we also have six stomachs that now rely on this business.
If you have missed our Substack stuff, here is a rundown.
This is my unfiltered self. It’s PG-13. And yes, it’s all about woodworking, but it also delves into other issues – mostly deconstructing the BS that permeates our craft. I also post entire chapters of my forthcoming works. Plans, drawings, everything. Readers there have already read my next book “American Peasant” (and have helped to make it better). Right now we’re building a Hobbit Chair together.
You can subscribe for free or pay $5/month. About half my Substack posts are free. And about half of each paid post is available to free subscribers to read. There’s a lot of stuff to read – more than 260 posts. And it’s some of my writing that I dislike the least.
Megan Fitzpatrick and I have collected a lifetime of knowledge about tools. We reviewed them for magazines. We see hundreds of student tools. And we – weirdly – still keep up with the industry out of habit. Our knowledge is mostly useless for publishing books. Spitting out model numbers and details of how certain motors work isn’t useful in a book. It becomes quickly outdated.
But what we know is great for a Substack. So Megan and I are opening our veins and offering our opinions on tools and other products without the threat of any flack from manufacturers. We don’t take free or discounted tools. We don’t do affiliate programs. The tools we own we paid full price for. And I’ve been at this since 1996.
Like “The American Peasant,” about half the posts are free. Paid subscriptions are $5/month.
Our third Substack is the most unusual writing exercise I’ve ever been involved in. This year we hired Kale Vogt, an aspiring chairmaker, to work here. And I’m about to take Kale on as an official “apprentice.” This Substack is journal entries written by me and Kale (and sometimes Megan) about the process.
It’s messy. Sometimes difficult. But also a chance for everyone to grow.
The Substack covers a lot of ground, from how to teach the basics to the economics of running a furniture shop to …. Who knows?
“The Anarchist’s Apprentice” is the start of something that I suspect will be important. Or it will crash and burn. Either way, you can be ringside. Half the posts are free. The rest are $5/month.
So Why?
A few people have asked us why we don’t just post all this stuff here on the Lost Art Press blog?
Well, it would be too much – multiple posts a day. And the tone of the blog would flop all over the place. We would chase away readers with my foul mouth, and we would enrage manufacturers with our tool reviews (which I’m actually OK with).
This blog is about straight-ahead woodworking. I’ve moved my personal stuff to “The American Peasant” (much to the relief of some of our readers). The three Substacks are a way for you to pick and choose what you like. Subscribe to all three for free, and you will get a huge amount of information. Pay if you want more.
News About This Blog
This year has been a technical pit of quicksand for this blog. To remedy the problems, we have moved the blog to a self-hosted site (long overdue) and switched our email notification system to Mailchimp (also long overdue).
I promise we are not trying to make things worse for you, or add layers of advertisements and marketing. We just need to be able to send an email to you and know that it went out. That’s what this is about.
So email notifications about new blog entries will come from Mailchimp instead of WordPress.That’s really the only change.
OK, time to sign off on this administrivia update. And get back to the bench.
Things are better – but still way too tight – in the warehouse.
We’re having one last sale to get our inventory under control. We have put seven books on sale from now until June 14 – some of them deeply discounted. You can see all the titles on sale here.
We don’t like to put things on sale, so why do this? Last year we bought a historic warehouse in downtown Covington and have fixed it up so we have full control over our fulfillment operations. This is why we can now offer books that have been signed by authors, and it allows us to throw a wooden bookmark or sticker into your order as well.
It’s also why we now ship books faster than ever.
The downside to owning a warehouse is it holds a finite number of books. We had far more books and tools than our inventory numbers suggested. So it’s been a challenge to get everything into the circa 1896 building.
Gabe and Mark move the last of our inventory out of a truck and into the warehouse.
Two weeks ago, however, we reached a milestone. Every single product we sell is now under one roof. I can finally see how much floor space some titles gobble up (it was surprising). This sale will make room for new books, plus books that we are sold out of. I estimate that if we can free up space for a dozen pallets or so, we should be in good shape for a long time.
The seven books now on sale are not stinkers. They are just taking up more than their fair share of space. If you aren’t familiar with Lost Art Press, know that every one of our books requires years of editorial work to produce. Our books return more than twice the royalties to our authors compared to the publishing industry as a whole. And all of our books are printed in the United States using high-quality materials. These are permanent books.
The books on sale.
“The Stick Chair Book” by Christopher Schwarz. Regular price: $47. Sale price: $29. This book represents my life’s work from 1996 to present. It felt weird to put it on sale, but the book takes up tons of space in our warehouse.
“Vol. III of The Woodworker: The Charles H. Hayward Years: Joinery.” Regular price: $42. Sale price $21. These Hayward books are huge in size. That’s one of the reasons they are great – there is a ton of information in them. But they also gobble up floor space.
“Mechanic’s Companion” by Peter Nicholson. Regular price: $27. Sale price: $17. This is one of our historical reprints. This book is one of the foundations of Western hand-tool woodworking. When I reordered it in 2021, I ordered way too many.
“Leave Fingerprints” by Brendan Gaffney. Regular price: $49. Sale price: $25. One of my favorite titles. Brendan did a fantastic job of demythologizing James Krenov and painting a true portrait of Krenov’s incredible life. Gaffney distilled more than 150 interviews into a biography of one of the 20th century’s most important woodworkers.
“Make a Joint Stool From a Tree” by Jennie Alexander and Peter Follansbee. Regular price: $31. Sale price: $17. One of our earliest titles, and one of the most difficult to get to press. The book took 20 years for the authors to finish. And thanks only to the absolute doggedness of Follansbee, the book was completed. It’s a great book about green woodworking, joinery and carving from two of the modern architects of green woodworking’s renaissance.
“Calvin Cobb: Radio Woodworker!” by Roy Underhill. Regular price: $41. Sale price: $19. This is the world’s first-ever woodworking novel with measured drawings. Another labor of love that took years of work and tons of money to complete. The book is great fun to read. And the book’s manufacturing details, such as the diestamp, ridiculously expensive dust jacket and endsheets, create a book you don’t see much in modern times.
Thank you for enduring this awkward time with Lost Art Press. I hope this sale helps you complete your collection of the Charles Hayward books or garners you some good gifts for the woodworkers in your life.
Barring that, shredded book paper can give you an R-value of 3.6 when insulating your home – or warehouse.
1) The Workshop, including the design and construction of workbenches, tool chests and wall cabinets. There’s also an entire section devoted to “appliances,”which are workshop accessories such as shooting boards.
2) Furniture & its Details, includes a discussion of all the important Western furniture styles, including their construction, mouldings and metal hardware. This section also includes the construction drawings for many important and famous pieces of furniture examined by Charles H. Hayward during his tenure at The Woodworker magazine.
3) Odds & Sods. In addition to offering its readers practical information for the shop, The Woodworker also asked it subscribers to think about the craft and its place in modern society. We have included many of our favorite philosophical pieces in this final section.
Although a back may not call for the high finish that is necessary for, say, a cabinet door, it needs to be strongly made and of a type to suit the particular job. “Craftsman” discusses here some of the points to be considered when deciding just what kind of back a job is to have. —Ed.
I am afraid that many of us are inclined to let the backs of our cabinets take pot luck, as the saying goes. We make a job, say, in oak, possibly putting in oak drawer sides, and backs, but hesitate before going to the expense of oak for the back. The reason (or excuse, however you happen to look at it) is that it is seldom seen, has little or no wear to withstand, and that, since the cheap back answers the purpose just as well, it is clearly a waste to spend money on an expensive one.
Well, it is logical enough up to a point, and, providing that it is merely the material that is cheapened and not the method that is worsened, no great harm is done. In fact, there are many pieces of quite light woodwork in which a heavily built back seems almost out of place. Still, it is nice to have a piece of work in which nothing has been skimped, and the argument that a cheap back answers the purpose as well as a better one may not necessarily hold good, as we shall see later. The safe plan is to consider each piece on its merits, and give it the best back that it is worth.
BACKS OF OLD FURNITURE If one goes back into the past one comes across some curious anomalies. Many of the antiques of the Queen Anne and mahogany periods of which we think so highly had wretched backs. I myself spent a good many years in a repair shop, and I can speak feelingly of the hours I devoted to gluing strips of canvas across gaping splits in panels and across open knot holes. I have seen a mahogany chest of drawers of the Chippendale period with magnificent show work—serpentine shaped drawers, fine carving, and so on—with a back consisting of pieces of 1/4 in. pine nailed across. An extraordinary inconsistency. Apart from its having no strength, the whole thing was bound to shrink and split.
Yet when we come to that much abused period of Victoria, we find exactly the reverse. Probably no finer cabinet backs have ever been fitted into furniture. Open the door of one of those huge Victorian wardrobes (there are plenty of them knocking about in seaside boarding houses). You will find the mirror back more strongly made than many a modern wardrobe door, and the carcase back a finely panelled framework often with moulded stiles or flush panels.
Perhaps one reason why there has been a tendency to fit lighter backs since Victorian times (apart from the all-round cheapening of materials and construction) is the introduction of plywood. It seems such an obvious use for ply, a material which is free from shrinkage and obtainable in such large sizes. Undoubtedly it is perfectly suitable for the purpose, providing the carcase is strong in itself, and does not rely upon the back to make it rigid.
TYPES OF BACKS There are various considerations that affect the choice of a cabinet back. There is, for instance, the question of size. A single sheet of 3/16 in. plywood might make an excellent back for a little cupboard, say, 15 ins. high, but would obviously be absurd for a wardrobe. Apart from this, however, the first consideration should be: does the job rely upon the back for strength, or will the back serve merely to enclose a space? Fig. 1 shows the idea. At A the back is needed to prevent racketing and to stiffen the carcase generally. At B, however, the carcase is already strong, and only a light back is needed.
In the latter connection, of course, it is sometimes an advantage to build in the back with the carcase. Items such as sideboards are often made in this way. As a general rule, however, it is better to make the back separately, because it simplifies the subsequent fitting-up.
THE PANELLED BACK For a thoroughly strong back the panelled type is undoubtedly the most satisfactory. It is perfectly rigid and is free from all shrinkage complications. It should always be used for pieces such as cupboards with large, heavy doors, which are particularly liable to distortion unless provided with a stiff back.
Fig 2 shows the usual form. The whole thing is put together with mortise and tenon joints, and the panels are grooved in. One point to note is that if there is a shelf in the cupboard, the middle cross rail should be arranged opposite to it if possible. It may not always be practicable, of course, but the advantage is that it gives a level surface against which the back of the shelf can face (see B, Fig 3). If this is not done there will be gaps opposite the panels as shown at A.
The same difficulty sometimes occurs in a bookcase or similar item, but owing to the large number of shelves it is not practicable to arrange for many horizontal rails. The better plan is that in Fig 4, in which the panels are flush with the framework at the inside. It necessitates fairly thick panels, of course, but it gives a far neater result than cutting out the back edge of the shelf to fit.
MUNTIN BACKS A somewhat distant relative of the panelled back is the muntin type. It is nowhere near as strong, and is rather a doubtful member of the family. Like some relations, you can’t deny them (and they are useful sometimes), but you are a little shy about mentioning them in the best circles. It consists of a series of uprights, say 3/4 in. or 7/8 in. thick grooved at the edges to take thinner panels, as shown in Fig. 5. The ends of the muntins are cut away as shown inset, so that the panels can be fixed directly to the back of the carcase. Now, as the panels are generally about 9—10 ins. wide, and of deal, it is inevitable that a certain amount of shrinkage will take place. Consequently it is a mistake to drive in nails right across the width because the wood would split in the event of shrinkage. The better plan is that in Fig. 6 in which nails are driven in near the centre only. The edges extending into the muntin grooves are free so that they can draw out. Note that the heart side is outwards so that the free ends are pressed tightly against the carcase by the natural twisting tendency of the wood.
If, owing to the presence of a number of shelves, it is desirable for the back to be entirely flush on the inside, the muntins can be rebated instead of grooved as shown in Fig. 7. The beads along the rebates are not entirely decorative, but they serve to render the gaps less noticeable in the event of the panels shrinking. All these details about shrinkage apply only when solid wood is used, of course. In the case of plywood it does not matter.
Speaking of plywood brings us to another variation of the muntin back. In its simplest form the plywood back is nothing more than a sheet of plywood nailed or screwed in a rebate. For quite light jobs this is satisfactory enough, but to give a neat finish the back in Fig. 8 is better. A series of grooved and rounded horizontals is screwed on. They can be arranged level with the shelves as shown. The plywood panels fit between them in the grooves. For a flush effect the rails can be rebated instead of being grooved (see D).
FIG. 9. DRESSER BACK WITH TONGUED BOARDS FIXED DIRECTLY TO CARCASE.
DRESSER BACKS These are really in a class by themselves, for although they could be applied to pieces such as wardrobes, they are not so strong as a panelled back. One of two methods can be followed. That shown in Fig. 9 has the advantage of simplicity. The back is really a series of matched boards, tongued one into the other, with either a bead or a V worked at the joints. The boards are screwed or nailed directly to the top and shelves, and at the bottom to a rail specially fitted for the purpose. In the second method, Fig. 10, wide grooved rails are screwed at top and bottom and the matching fitted in the grooves. The wide rails give rigidity, the matching merely filling the space, so to speak. It can be either very thin as at A, or it can be stouter, the ends being tongued as at B.
FIG. 10. DRESSER BACK WITH TONGUED BOARD FITTING IN GROOVED RAILS.
Incidentally, a detail applying to all backs of any thickness is that the rebates in the ends should slope as shown at A, Fig. 11. If this is not done the projecting portion is liable to curl as shown at B.
FIG. 11. DETAIL APPLYING TO ALL BACKS. At A the rebate is cut at an angle. This avoids risk of the projecting lap curling away as shown at B.
