In 1905, Bittner, Hunsicker & Co., a Pennsylvania clothing company, had a truly excellent logo as their letterhead. It’s a skep – an early beehive – with the slogan: “Never Despair: Nothing Without Labour.” (FYI, bees and skeps were early symbols used by tradespeople. It’s not a Masonic, Mormon or cult thing. It’s bees, people. Bees are busy and productive – end of story.)
Now we have put the image on a bandana and printed the slogan on some excellent shop pencils. We are offering them together for one price: one bandana and five shop pencils for $33. Sorry, they are not available separately.
About the Bandanas The original art was a bit dense for a clean, crisp screen print. So our pal and talented illustrator Page Biersdorff tidied up the image with screen printing in mind, and our bandanna beaus at One Feather Press worked their magic
The Lost Art Press bandana is designed by us and made by the fantastic One Feather Press in East Nashville, Tenn. Each bandana is cut, sewn, printed and washed by hand, one at a time. It’s a true water-based discharge print, so the design is visible on both sides of the fabric. The edges are hemmed, and one edge is the fabric’s selvage – the clean edge of the fabric that can’t unravel. They’re softer than our old bandannas, and an even better print quality.
Limited quantities. Once they are gone, they are gone forever.
Some statistics:
22″ x 22″ 100 percent cotton Cut, sewn and printed in Tennessee Limited edition of 240
About the Pencils For years we have searched for shop pencils that were durable, had lead that wasn’t gummy, were easy to hold and didn’t have the silly eraser (which is worthless in the shop, in our opinion). And we wanted them to be inexpensive.
We aren’t pencil hobbyists who debate the fine points of the Blackwing 602 vs. the Caran d’Ache Hb1 (where each pencil costs $2 or more).
We finally found these pencils via one of our local contractors, who picked his up from an old hardware store. I traveled to the store and sweet-talked their buyer into giving up the supplier.
These are tough pencils at a full 3/8″ in diameter and won’t snap without a fight. The lead is stronger than a typical pencil, takes a fine point and makes a dark mark.
If you are looking for a pencil to take to the Fancy Lad Academy, look elsewhere. If you want a day-to-day tool, these are great.
When “The Stick Chair Book” finally evolved from a vague notion into an outline, I knew instantly what I wanted to put on the book’s cover: a carving of a stick chair made by artist, fellow chairmaker and friend Rudy Everts.
Rudy made the carving last year, and it’s one of my most prized possessions. I keep it on a shelf in the front of the shop so I see it every day. I love the way the chair’s appearance changes during different hours of the day. And the carving captures everything I love about the form of these stick chairs, which I’ve been obsessed with for far too long. Though Rudy might dispute me, I think this carving is art.
And, as you can see in the image above, the thing looks fantastic as a book cover.
But then data and manufacturing considerations entered the picture.
During the Great Quiet of the pandemic I spent a lot of time digging into the 14 years of data we have on our books. Our customers and our books are not like the customers and books I knew from my time in corporate media. But I had no idea how different they were.
In the corporate media world, books with dust jackets and beautiful photos do very well. However, our customers see the world differently. No matter what the topic or who wrote the book, books with simpler cloth covers and diestamps are preferred to books with dust jackets and photos on the front. I have looked at the numbers a dozen different ways. It’s not even close.
When John and I started Lost Art Press, neither of us were interested in dust jackets. But Jennie Alexander insisted that “Make a Joint Stool From a Tree” have a nice dust jacket. And so John and I said: OK, we’ll let the authors drive this important aspect of their books. And so we have. And we will continue to do so.
When it eventually came to designing the dust jacket for “The Stick Chair Book,” I knew in my in-denial heart that a cloth cover with a diestamp would be the right approach for this book. It’s a shop manual, and a dust jacket is going to take a beating. Eliminating the dust jacket will allow us to reduce the retail price significantly. And that’s a big deal because this book is huge – it’s well more than 600 pages and in color. And, our readers prefer cloth covers.
So I’ve decided to do something we’ve never done before. When the book is released, it will have a cloth cover and diestamp. But you will also be able to download a free pdf of the dust jacket with Rudy’s carving on the cover. You can send this pdf to your local print shop and the employees can print out a perfectly sized dust jacket for your book.
(Side note: We investigated selling the book with and without a dust jacket. The jackets would have to be manually added at the warehouse. It was stupid expensive.)
I hope this is the right path. The book will be more affordable, which will lower the price barrier for some customers. And customers who love a dust jacket can easily make one for themselves (and make another if the first one ever wears out).
On the days when I have to make these hard decisions, I wish I worked at the gas station instead.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. The carving is now on the title page in the book, and it looks great.
A few weeks back I promised a panel glue-up primer… and today is the first time I’ve needed to glue up a panel since. The basic stock prep for the panel pieces is the same as the rest of the prep, until it comes to sticking the two (or more) pieces together. So that’s where I’ll pick up. And as always, it’s best if you can surface your lumber then do any glue-ups within a few hours. The less time the wood has to move, the better – even if you’ve properly acclimated it.
If I’m using yellow glue or liquid-hide glue (which is almost all the time), I rip both edges of pieces for a glue-up; I want those outside edges flat and level so the clamps have a good, parallel surface on which to close. If I’m using hot hide glue and doing a rub joint (which is almost never), there are no clamps involved, so the outside edges don’t matter.
Regardless of my approach, the first steps are the same. Lay out the panel and mark it with a cabinetmaker’s triangle.
After layout, mark a cabinetmaker’s triangle across the panel.
You want to joint the edges so that you cancel out any non-perfect-90° angle from your electric jointer or jointer-plane work. If you’re jointing by hand, match-plane the two while clamped together in your vise. This will cancel out any error in your angle. If using a electric jointer, mark one edge “I” (inside) and the other “O” (outside). I runs against the fence, O runs not against the fence. This cancels out any error in the jointer’s fence.
The letters tell me which way to orient the boards at the jointer.
I carefully joint each mating edge, fairly slowly, and at the same, steady speed. Then I immediately proceed to glue up.
Let’s dispense with the rub joint first. For a panel glue-up, the only glue I’d use for a rub joint is hot hide glue (though some sources will say other glues work, too). With the two mating edges freshly jointed, simply coat both edges – quickly – then rub those two edges together lengthwise until the glue starts to gel, doing your best to keep them aligned across the thickness. Then set them on end against a wall and give the glue time to completely dry. No clamp necessary. (The few times I’ve glued up panels this way, I’ve left them a little thick so that I can level the glue line after, and not end up with a too-thin panel. Typically, I use the tack-ability of hot hide glue only for glue blocks and veneer.)
I use liquid hide glue (preferably the the Old Brown stuff) for most things in woodworking, but for typical panel glue-ups, I reach for the yellow stuff. It sets up more quickly, so the clamps can come off after 30 minutes (which means I can get more glue-ups done more quickly – and every minute is precious when prepping stock for classes).
I have things set up and ready to go at my bench before I joint the workpiece’s edges.
I’ll have a glue-up station ready to go on my bench before I bring stock in from the machine room, usually with a piece of paper underneath an odd number of clamps, because I always want one in the center (and if my prep is good, I can dispense with putting every other clamp on top of the panel). Along with the glue bottle, I have a bucket of water (hot water if I’m using hide glue) and a rag.
First, I run a bead of glue down the center of one board.
Just under the spout is too much glue – I had to hold still while Chris snapped the picture – so look behind the nozzle for the approximate correct amount.e
Then I spread it evenly with my finger (which is fast) or with an old toothbrush (which is slower but less messy).
Guess where I stopped for that last picture…
I want enough glue that I can rub the wet edge on the dry edge and get enough glue on the mating board that its edge is also fully wetted. But no more than that.
Start in the middle.
Then I wipe the excess glue off my finger before tightening the center clamp. I keep a finger or two of my non-clamp hand on the seam so that I can feel if I need to exert downward pressure on either board for a perfect mate. (Usually, doing the glue-ups immediately after prep obviates this problem.) I don’t tighten all the way – just enough to hold the joint closed as I repeat at both ends. Then I snug them in the same order until the joint is fully closed and I see a line of glue beads down the seam. That tells me the joint is closed tightly enough, and that I used enough (actually, just a tiny bit too much!) glue.
Now the ends.
That spot with no bead is where I was feeling for level – otherwise, I’ve a continuous line of glue beads down the seam.
Next I reach for the bucket and rag, and with an almost-completely wrung-out rag, wipe off the excess glue with small circular motions along the seam. Rinse, re-wet and re-wring the rag often (you don’t want to simply spread thinned glue over the surface). And don’t forget to do the other side. You’ll have a little squeeze-out under the clamps, but it’s easy enough to knock off with a scraper, chisel or plane after the glue is completely dry. Note that none of us in this shop has ever had a problem with glue-size interfering with finishing. Any residual glue is planed away.
Scrub both sides. The glue is a lot easier to get off now than after it’s dry. And no, this won’t weaken the joint or interfere with finishing.
The last task is to check the clock and write the time on the edge of the panel. After 30 minutes, you can take the clamps off and move on to the next glue-up. With multiples, I usually stack them up to dry (another reason to remove the glue on the surface), and let them sit overnight before ripping to final size and squaring the ends.
If I need the clamps for other panels, I can take them off this panel at 12:20. If I don’t need the clamps, I typically leave the panel in clamps longer (not because I have to, but because I forget about it).
I know there are all kinds of charts, studies and special clamping doodads to help you achieve ideal clamp pressure. I’m sure those are useful. For someone. Me? This simple approach has served me well for more than a decade.
PLYWOOD consists of three or more layers of veneer glued or cemented together with the grain of each piece laid at right angles to those adjoining. As this reduces (in the stouter thicknesses practically eliminates) any risk of splitting or of shrinkage, the strength of the board is greatly increased.
Three-ply is available in thicknesses from 1/64-1/4 in., multi-ply from 5/16-1 in. In the case of three-ply the centre core is usually thicker than the two outer veneers, when it is known as “stout-heart” as distinct from “equal-layer” (Fig. 1). When five, seven, or more veneers are used for multi-ply the same thickness of layer is used throughout. Boards are manufactured in standard-sized panels from 12 in. square up to several feet, and the range varies widely in different countries of origin.
As the metric measure applies to plywood thicknesses, it will be of service to give the approximate equivalents in inches.
A metre measures about 39-1/2 in. As there are a thousand millimetres in a metre, a simple calculation shows that about 25 mm. go to the inch. If this figure is remembered we have a quick guide to the approximate thicknesses.
In manufacture birch is more frequently used, but alder, ash, and gaboon are also in demand. Pine is largely employed in the Scandinavian countries, whilst Douglas fir is widely used in America.
Faced plywood means that one surface is veneered with a furniture hardwood such as figured oak. Edges should be lipped when to be exposed.
LAMINATED BOARD, now largely used for veneered furniture, is built up with the inner core made up of numerous narrow strips glued to each other, both surfaces being faced with a board, the grain of which lies at right angles to the core. Gaboon is a favourite wood and the thicknesses range from 1/2-2 in. Outside sizes vary considerably, but dimensions listed have reached as much as 16 ft. by 6 ft. 6 in. A normal size is about 8 ft. by 4 ft. When used for doors, sideboard, and table tops, etc., the edges are lipped and the surfaces veneered. The strips forming the core should not be wider than 7 mm. in laminated board.
BLOCK BOARD. In this case the strips forming the core are wider, 3/4 in. being an average. It is made in the same thicknesses as laminated board, but is less favoured for high-class furniture. From the illustration it will be seen that, both in the case of laminated board and block board, the grain of the core strips is reversed in the gluing. The core strips should not be more than 1 in. wide in block board.
BATTEN BOARD. This is a lower grade of built-up board in which the core strips are still wider. It is not so reliable for veneering. The core strips should not be wider than 3 in.
TABLE OF APPROXIMATE EQUIVALENTS, MILLIMETRES AND INCHES Useful for finding thickness of plywood, etc., in inches.
One of the many nice details of the forthcoming “The Stick Chair Book” are the printed “endsheets.” For those of you unfamiliar with the term, endsheets are the papers that are glued to the inside and back cover and the interior pages of the book.
Endsheets can be plain, patterned or printed with cool stuff. Adding printing to your endsheets adds expense, of course. But because I have done all the layout and photography for this book (and most of the illustrations), I have decided to throw some money into making some interesting endsheets.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always liked the family tree posters that explore rock ‘n’ roll and other forms of music. And I wanted to do one on chair forms. So I spent about a week sketching out a draft and then asked several furniture history nerds to poke holes in my tree.
Finally, I asked Welsh artist Lee John Phillips to draw the family tree for the endsheets. I was first introduced to Lee’s work by Chris Williams, and I quickly became a huge fan, especially of his quixotic Shed Project. Lee has been working on the drawings off and on for about a month, and he is getting near the end.
Things are looking very cool. So cool, in fact, that I might do a stupid thing and make some letterpress posters of the family tree. (I mean, it has been months since I’ve flushed good money down the potty.)
When we’re done, I’ll show you the whole thing here. Until then, here are some in-process details.
A couple caveats:
This is a family tree of chair forms (backstools, thrown chairs, ladderbacks), and not chair styles (Chippendale, French Provincial, Late Jerry Style).
The colors and images shown here are not finished. So that’s why they aren’t consistent.
