One of my biggest struggles so far with “The Stick Chair Book” is that I can’t build a chair the same way twice.
When I start to build a chair, I have plans and patterns. But it takes 5 minutes for those plans to get pushed aside. I pick up a stick for the stretchers and note the arrow-straight grain. Thanks to that, the stretchers don’t have to be a full 1-3/8” square; I can go smaller. The wood for the arm, however, is some fast-growth stuff and feels a little weak. I should beef up its thickness.
It goes from there. I get an idea for how to make the gutter between the saddled seat and spindle deck crisper. Yeah, I’m going to do that on this chair. The person who will get this chair has a round back, and he likes to lean back in chairs – hard. I’ve watched him do it. This chair needs an extra medial stretcher. And I’m going to pitch the back sticks an extra 5° backward to discourage him from tipping back on the chair’s back legs.
Soon, the chair looks nothing like my drawing. But it’s the right chair.
So how do I explain this process to the readers of the book? My plan is to present the chair plans as drawn for an average-size person with a mid-range BMI (body-mass index) and typical popliteal height. Basically, someone who doesn’t exist outside a Pringles’ consumer group study in Ames, Iowa.
And then say: OK, now you (the builder) need to think about the sitter. Are they short? Lower the seat height to avoid cutting off the bloodstream in their legs. Do they have a tall back? You need to increase the length of the back sticks to cradle the shoulders. Do they have long arms? Consider lowering the arm height by 1/2” or so. Do they have a massive hinder? Add stretchers. Wedge them. Widen the seat.
And on and on.
Also, do what I do. Build your first chairs using cheap wood – poplar and red oak in my case. Poplar for the seat and arms; oak for the other parts. Build them without fussing. Hell, don’t even saddle the seat. It might cost you a day of work and $30 in wood. But it will give you $1,000 worth of answers. Especially when you (and the person it is intended for) sits in it.
Then cut the stupid thing up and use the parts for stools. Funny, I’ve built a lot of stools.
The original price was $550; the sale price is $250 plus $15 shipping anywhere in the United States. We have about 500 copies of the book in stock. Once it is gone, it is gone forever.
Measuring 12-1/4″ wide x 17-1/4″ tall by almost 2-1/4″ thick, “Roubo on Furniture” is the largest and most luxurious book we have printed since Lost Art Press was founded in 2007.
The text is printed on #100 Mohawk Superfine paper, the finest domestic paper available today. To match the fine paper, the images and plates are printed in full color at a linescreen few presses can achieve.
The result is a level of detail and clarity rarely seen in a modern book.
The book’s signatures are sewn, casebound and reinforced with a fiber tape that will ensure the binding will outlast us all. The hardbound boards are covered in a beautifully printed pattern with a cotton cloth cover on the spine. The spine is then debossed in gold and black.
The entire book comes in a custom-made slipcase covered in a complementary-colored cotton cloth.
You can read all about the contents of the book here. And here.
While we are discontinuing the deluxe edition, we will continue to offer the standard “Roubo on Furniture” ($57) for as long as we possibly can – just like the rest of our books. Our goal is that the information will always be available.
Why Sell Off the Deluxe Books? When we went to press with the deluxe version of “Roubo on Furniture,” we wanted to give it a price tag that was reasonable for a book that is over the top in quality. The initial printing quotes put the retail price at $1,000. The only way to get the price lower was to double the print run to 1,000 and take a smaller profit on each sale.
We decided to drain the bank account and take the risk. For the most part, things worked out. We sold about 400 copies, which inched us into the black. But during the last few years, sales haven’t covered the costs of storing the books.
Most publishers would pulp the books, or sell them to a discount bookseller. Instead, we’re going to put them on sale for woodworkers.
The deluxe “Roubo on Furniture” is the nicest book I’ve ever worked on. I still pick it up every week or so to look something up, and I am thrilled by the crisp printing and the beautiful binding. I don’t regret what we did.
And I hope you don’t ever regret missing out on this.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. This offer is available for U.S. customers. If you live outside the U.S., we recommend you use a mail-forwarding service, which can receive the book and ship it to you much more economically than we can.
James Krenov presents his “Oak Parquetry” cabinet from 1997 to the class at The College of the Redwoods Fine Woodworking Program (now The Krenov School). Photo by David Welter.
The process of writing “James Krenov: Leave Fingerprints” has left me with a few qualifications: I’m happy to sit before an audience and talk about his roots and aesthetic history, or work with The Krenov Foundation to design and present a centennial exhibition (more on that in a bit). But, a question that I get asked frequently that I don’t feel 100 percent qualified to answer is: which is your favorite piece of James Krenov’s?
It’s a hard question, perhaps made complicated by my years of research – I could’ve rattled off a favorite cabinet or two with ease before I knew his full body of work. Furthermore, divorcing his life from his work is impossible. There are pieces I love because of their context, but are not his most technical or aesthetically pleasing works. And, frankly, this question asks my opinion, which I’ve tried not to exercise too much during the journalistic pursuit of writing his biography! But, I thought I’d share three pieces here that, after all my work, I find particularly appealing.
All of these pieces, and a couple dozen more, can be found in the gallery of Krenov’s work at the back of biography. And, if you want to join in the game of browsing his work and picking favorites, you can find a huge body of his work on The Krenov Archive, and share them in the comments below!
Cabinet of Andaman Padauk (1979)
1979’s “Cabinet of Andaman Padauk,” pictured in Krenov’s fourth book, “Worker in Wood,” pages 16-23. Photo by Bengt Carlén.
If you held my feet to the fire and asked me what I thought best summarized Krenov’s technical and aesthetic body of work, it would be this cabinet. Made in Andaman padauk, a wood that Krenov spent many words praising, with drawer-fronts of pearwood and Lebanon cedar drawer interiors, this piece’s form, wood composition and technical execution put it high on a list of “classic Krenovian” cabinets.
The graceful curves are emblematic of Krenov’s work toward the end of his time in Sweden, as are the floating door panels, which lift nicely away from the frame in which they’re suspended. The cove between the stand and cabinet carcase is nicely faceted, showing his penchant for gouge and knife carving. And, his use of the lighter padauk in the panels, which came from the same planks as the darker surrounding padauk used in the stand and carcase body, is a deft illustration of his careful choice of woods. If I were assigning a county-fair-esque superlative, this might come in at “Best Overall.”
Lower curved details of the padauk cabinet’s stand. Photo by Bengt Carlén.
The pearwood drawer drawer fronts and curved panel of the padauk cabinet. Photo by Bengt Carlén.
Fossil Cabinet (1993)
Krenov’s “Fossil Cabinet” in kwila, spalted olive and hickory from 1993. Photo by David Welter.
If the “Cabinet of Andaman Padauk” is “Best Overall,” this cabinet might be something like the dark horse of Krenov’s oeuvre. Made in 1993, a dozen years after his resettlement from Sweden to the school in California, this piece came in the midst of a flurry of cabinets that played with parquetry and veneer composition. Its unusual use of spalted olive veneers, inlaid into the veneered kwila carcase, make it singular in Krenov’s output. Throughout the 1990s, in his 70s, Krenov played with new ideas and forms, a fact that is missed by many historians, who consider his work to be relatively unchanged over his career.
Aside from the fact of its unique place among his work, this cabinet is also attractive in its proportions and shaping. By 2000, Krenov would focus his work almost entirely on small cabinets on tall, leggy stands, and this piece foreshadows that trend. The shaping in the stand is also quite appealing, and hearkens to the first joined stands Krenov made in the 1960s for his “Silver Chests.”
The interior of the “Fossil Cabinet,” showing the simple interior. Photo by David Welter.
Pearwood Drawer Cabinet (2002)
Krenov’s “Pearwood Drawer Cabinet” from 2002. Photo by David Welter.
This is the only piece of the three shown here that I’ve seen in person; in fact, it was the first piece of his I ever saw in the flesh, when David Welter (its owner and the long-time shop technician at The Krenov School) brought it to the school when I was a student. It’s graceful in just about every way; the carcase veneers are carefully arranged, without being loudly bookmatched or otherwise worried over, the legs sweep gracefully and the interior is full of asymmetric and sweetly pillowed drawer fronts.
This was the last piece Krenov made at the school; at the end of the school’s 20th year, Krenov retired at the age of 81. Not only is the cabinet impressive considering the maker was in his eighth decade, it shows his continuing evolution as a maker. Welter was quick to point out that the legs, albeit joined and arranged in a typical fashion to many of Krenov’s later cabinets, feature a shaping profile and style that was new to Krenov’s work.
The pearwood drawer cabinet’s interior, showing the asymmetric drawers and their satisfying pillowing. Photo by David Welter.
The legs of the pearwood drawer cabinet, showing the sweet shaping that was new to Krenov’s body of work. Photo by David Welter.
Before I sign off, I want to mention something that I’ll go into greater detail on next week. During the past three months, I’ve worked with Michelle Frederick, Kerry Marshall and Laura Mays in Fort Bragg, Calif., on an exhibition celebrating Krenov’s centennial, which is this coming Halloween. They’ve begun releasing short teaser videos that hint at the videos we’ve made for the exhibition on this Instagram feed. Next week, I’ll put up a post with insight into our process and what you can expect when the exhibition goes live on Oct. 31. But if you want to start getting excited, I encourage you to check out their Instagram.
A twisted Ligustrum sinense. This Chinese privet has the status of a Champion Tree in the U.K. It’s found at Thorp Perrow Arboretum, Bedale, North Yorkshire, and gained its Champion status through being the tallest and largest specimen in the country. In addition to these characteristics its status as a champion is surely derived from its most notable feature being the remarkably twisted trunk thought to be caused by a systemic fault.
I first learned about the Twin Oaks Community while working on “Cut & Dried” with Richard Jones. We needed an index. Members of Twin Oaks, an intentional community in rural central Virginia, make their living, in part, by indexing books. Additional income is generated by making hammocks and furniture and tofu, and seed growing. The Twin Oaks Community, comprised of about 90 adults and 15 children, are income-sharing. Members complete about 42 hours of business and domestic work a week, and in return receive housing, food, healthcare and personal spending money.
Rachel Nishan from Twin Oaks responded to my indexing query, and we agreed to work together. Indexing a technical book such as “Cut & Dried” is a rather monumental task, and just thinking about it made my eye twitch. Yet Rachel approached the project without an air of stress, asking detailed questions about tree types, specificity and British spellings. Throughout our correspondence one sentence has stayed with me, years later: “… a more technically-inclined reader could want to look through the index in a variety of different ways, so I have tried to be pretty redundant, which is the kindest for the user of the index.”
“Kindest for the user.” I think that’s the heart of bookmaking, no?
Richard and I sent hundreds of emails to each other while working together to turn his years of work into book form. And all of that correspondence, from image selection to epsilon size, was written with Rachel’s not-yet-said phrase in mind: kindest for the user.
I was nervous to begin work on this book. Honestly, I thought the content would be too technical for me to understand. But then I read it. And realized Richard used his genius to transform his scholarly work into easy reading. And Rachel made topics within the text easy to find. And Meghan designed the book to be easy on the eyes. All with kindness in mind.
Many woodworkers are initially reluctant to study trees in detail fearing the subject is dauntingly heavy. Whilst it’s true the subject can be studied with scientific precision it’s really only necessary to get to grips with the main elements to gain a firm basic knowledge. Wood isn’t created with the needs of the woodworker in mind. The creation of wood is necessary for trees’ survival. We simply use what nature provides. Understanding the original function of wood helps woodworkers use it sympathetically and successfully. One example of useful basic knowledge described earlier is to understand the essentials of Latin scientific classification resulting in precision and clarity in any discussion of the subject.
All trees are members of the plant family. Specifically, they are all spermatophytes meaning they are seed-bearing plants. Trees are generally characterised as being perennial seed-bearing vascular woody plants with a root system and (ordinarily) a single trunk supporting a crown of leaf-bearing branches. With exceptions (see mention of the Arctic willow, Salix arctica, earlier) they normally reach a minimum height at maturity of five m (15′) and survive for at least three years.
This basic classification then breaks trees down into two distinctive types – the angiosperms (covered seeds) and the gymnosperms (naked seeds). Alternative names for these two groups are hardwoods, deciduous or broad-leaved trees (angiosperms), and conifers or softwoods (gymnosperms). The terms hardwood and softwood can be misleading as not all hardwoods produce hard wood, e.g., soft balsa wood is the product of a hardwood tree whereas yew is hard and comes from a softwood tree.
Figure 3.1. Trees increase girth by adding growth rings annually. They increase in height by adding new growth at the tips of branches. Roots and root tips grow in the same manner.
Typical of deciduous trees in temperate climates is the loss of leaves during autumn as the tree loses vitality followed by a dormant winter period. As usual there are exceptions where many of the hollies (Ilex spp.) retain their spiky and waxy leaves throughout the year. Spring, with its longer daylight hours and warmer weather, heralds a new period of rapid growth with the emergence of new leaves, flowering and reproduction. This is not true of all hardwoods in all climates. Many equatorial living hardwoods are able to grow all year round and may never lose their leaves en masse. With these trees the cycle is continuous as old leaves reach the end of their useful life to be replaced by new ones.
Figure 3.2 . Dendritic (deliquescent) growth pattern of broad-leaved trees. The main trunk branches and rebranches.Figure 3.3. Excurrent form of coniferous Japanese larch. A single bole or trunk with subordinate branching. Larch is an exception to the rule because it loses its needles in winter. In this managed forest, juvenile Sitka spruce have established themselves between the planted larches. Dalby Forest, North Yorkshire, England.
Angiosperms (deciduous trees) from all climatic conditions have a characteristic growth pattern. Their form is deliquescent or dendritic, meaning there is branching and re-branching of a main trunk.
Gymnosperms (coniferous or evergreen) trees typically retain their leaves throughout the year, with larch being one exception to this trait. Their form is generally excurrent – the main trunk rises singly with lesser sideways branching. Broadleaved trees usually have large, relatively fragile, blade-like leaves and, to prevent dehydration of the tree resulting from their retention, they are lost before winter. Conifers on the other hand typically are able to resist dehydration because of their tough, needle-like waxy leaves, which stay on the tree through all the seasons. As with tropical hardwoods discussed earlier they lose leaves and replace them all year round. However, I’ve noticed even the much-despised fast growing leylandii (Cupressocyparis x leylandii) planted in my back garden by a previous owner loses more leaves in the winter than in the summer. Leylandii are, in truth, a very attractive tree grown where they have space. They grow very swiftly and are really too large in small British gardens – they rapidly exclude light and dominate these small spaces.
Figure 3.4. Scots pine (Pinus sylvestris). Needles (leaves) and seed cone. In common with broad-leaved trees conifers can be identified by a combination of factors – general form, bark, flowers, seeds and leaves. Scots pine needles, for example, occur in pairs, are bluish-green, twisted and about 50 mm (2″) long. They survive about four years before turning brown and dropping as a pair. Cones vary in size between 25 mm to 60 mm (1″ to 2-1/2″) in length and are usually rounded. The bark is distinctive being orange and flaky.
In common with hardwood trees living in cool temperate climates, evergreens have a dormant winter period.
Tree growth occurs in just three places. The first two are the tips of the branches and roots, which increases the tree’s height and the spread of the crown along with the range of the roots. The third place where growth occurs is in the girth of the trunk, branches and roots by the addition of an annual growth ring. Meristem or meristematic tissue refers to the growth tissue in trees. The growing tips of twigs and roots is the apical meristem. The lateral meristem is the cambium layer adding girth to the tree’s structure.
The cells produced by meristematic tissue, whether they are leaves, flowers, bark or wood, are largely of cellulose. Cellulose forms strong and stable long chain molecular structures. This, along with the lignin bonded with, or to it, is what gives wood its strength. Lignin is the “glue” holding wood together and is a complex mixture of polymers of phenolic acids. Lignin forms about 25 percent of wood’s composition and becomes elastic when heated. It is lignin’s flexible plastic property allowing wood cells to rearrange themselves that woodworkers use to their advantage during steam-bending wood into new shapes.
The majority of cells making up a tree’s structure are elongated longitudinal cells. Their long axis runs vertically up the trunk (and along the branches and roots). Some of these cells are short and stumpy and others are long and slender. The vascular function of the newly formed longitudinal cells is to conduct liquid raw essentials up the tree to the leaves and processed sugary food down the tree to nourish it. Spread through the wood are rays or medullary rays. These ray cells are also elongated but their long axis radiates from the centre of the tree toward the bark. They are stacked one upon the other throughout the length of the trunk in slender wavy bands.
In many wood species the rays are invisible to the naked eye but in others, such as numerous oaks and maples, they are usually highly visible because the groups of cells are large. Some ray cells – the parenchyma – store carbohydrates for use in cell development. The other primary purpose of the medullary rays is to transport nourishing sap toward the centre of the tree.
3.1 Log Cross Section From the outside there is the outer bark (see figure 3.6), which is a protective insulating layer against weather, animal, fungal and insect attack. The bark has millions of tiny pores called lenticels through which necessary oxygen passes into the inner living cells beneath. In polluted atmospheres such as cities the lenticels clog with dirt. London plane (Platanus x hispanica) is well suited to city life because it sheds its bark regularly, exposing clear lenticels. The bark of all trees flakes off as the girth gets bigger.
Figure 3.5. Medullary rays in European oak. On the left they are visible as light-coloured flaky patches – the sought-after quartersawn oak figuring or “silver grain.” To the right where the horizontal bands of end grain show the rays are visible as thin, light-coloured vertical lines. The centre of the living tree in this example is toward the bottom of the photograph.
Inside the outer bark is phloem, bast or inner bark. The phloem is produced by the cambium layer and is a soft spongy liquid-conducting vascular tissue that carries processed food – sugary sap – from the leaves to the rest of the tree.
Figure 3.6. End section view of small yew log. Identifying the most significant structures visible to the naked eye.
Beneath this layer is cambium – the lateral meristem (growing tissue) that adds girth to the tree. The cambium is a slimy layer only one cell thick. These cells divide constantly when the tree is active. The cambium produces not only phloem towards the outside but, towards the centre, it produces xylem.
Xylem has two major functions. As sapwood it conducts water and minerals from the roots to the leaves. Sapwood contains both live tissue and dead tissue. Dead xylem, the heartwood, is the trees’ structural support. The longitudinal cells described earlier are organised to form water- and nutrient-conducting tracheids in gymnosperms or conifers, although some hardwoods also contain tracheids. In angiosperms (broad-leaved trees) the order is different. Vessels, which are continuous tubular structures, form a pipeline from the root tips to the leaves rather akin to drinking straws bundled and glued together. (Note, though, the comment I made about some hardwoods also containing tracheids.) In oaks, for example (see figure 3.7), the naked eye easily picks out the initial spring-laid vessels or pores. In other tree types magnification is required. Sapwood is often attacked by food-seeking life forms such as fungi, insect and animal life.
As sapwood xylem ages it loses its vitality through the loss of the living protoplasm within the cells and turns into heartwood. In some species the transition between living xylem and heartwood is abrupt and clearly visible as seen in the yew cross section at left. With others it is hard to distinguish between sapwood and heartwood. The sapwood can remain as living protoplasmic cells for several years but this period varies from species to species, and even within trees of the same species. The yew sample at left shows newly laid sapwood that took about 8 or 12 years to convert to heartwood.
Figure 3.7. Close-up of European oak end grain showing light-coloured medullary rays and spongy, adsorbent, open-pored spring growth and denser less-porous late growth – European oak is a ring-porous hardwood.
Heartwood is the column of xylem supporting the tree. It is dead because it has lost its active protoplasm. Whilst outer layers of the tree are intact – protecting the heartwood nourished by foodstuffs transported to it by the medullary rays – it will not decay. Heartwood is usually, but not always, distinct in colour from sapwood. Extractives cause the colour change. Extractives are trace elements imparting various combinations of characteristics to heartwood, such as colour, fungal- and bacterial-resistance, reduced permeability of the wood tissue, additional density of heartwood, and abrasive deposits.
Tyloses are bubble-like structures that develop in the tubular vessels of many hardwoods during the changeover from sapwood to heartwood. Tyloses block the previously open vessels, preventing free movement of liquid. Red oaks form very few tyloses whereas white oaks produce many and this explains why white oaks are preferred for barrels. It’s possible to blow through a stick of red oak submerged in water and create bubbles. Whisky distillers are well aware of the “Angels’ Share,” which is the part of the spirit, usually about 2 percent, that evaporates through the wood of the oak barrel (Whisky Magazine, 2008).
Growth rings are the result of the cambium layer adding new tissue year upon year. The cambium layer (in temperate climates) becomes active in spring, reacting to chemical signals produced in the tree brought about by warming temperatures and longer daylight hours. During its active period the cambium layer adds open, fast-grown porous tissue to cope with the rush of water and minerals required of the freshly opened leaves. As the summer approaches and the initial high demand for food subsides, the cambium lays down denser, harder latewood, which adds strength to the trunk and branches.
At the centre of the tree cross section is the pith or medulla. The pith is the small core of soft spongy tissue forming the original trunk or branch.
3.2 Gymnosperms & Angiosperms – Differences 3.2.1 Gymnosperms Gymnosperms (conifers, softwoods) are simpler in structure than angiosperms. Gymnosperms evolved earlier than angiosperms and have some distinct structural characteristics. More than 90 percent of the wood’s volume is made of tracheids. Tracheids are long fibrous cellulosic8 cells approximately 100 times longer than their diameter. They range between about 2 mm and 6 mm (about 1/16″ to 1/4″) in length depending on the species.
The two main functions of tracheids are as structure for the tree and as conductors of sap – nourishment. Tracheids conduct liquid food up the tree after the living protoplasm has left. Water and minerals pass upward to the leaves from one tracheid to the next via osmosis. Osmosis is the process where liquid from a high water (weak) solution passes through a cell wall into a low water (strong) solution. In softwood trees water and minerals move upward from the roots initially through upward root pressure created by soil-borne water migration into the root tracheid cells. Secondly, there is also transpirational pull created by water evaporating from the leaves. This method of conducting foodstuffs is distinctly different to the method used in broad-leaved trees described later.
The cambium layer lays down different forms of tracheids at different times of year. In the spring, the tracheids laid down are thin walled with a large diameter and are lighter in colour. Late-growth tracheids are dark coloured, have thicker walls and a smaller diameter. The early-wood tracheids with their thin walls are better at conducting liquid than the later thick-walled tracheids. Both will conduct water, but a tree needs structure as well as the ability to transport liquid – there is a necessary balance struck between the two functions in tracheid cell structure.
A distinctive characteristic found in some gymnosperms is resin carried in resin canals. Pine, spruce, larch and Douglas fir have resin canals. These timbers have a characteristic scent when worked, and the resin can cause bleeding problems under paint and polishes. One way of setting the resin solid to reduce bleeding problems is to raise the temperature of the wood during kiln drying to 175º F for a sustained period. Genuine gum turpentine is a product of the resin from Southern yellow pine, a tree of the North American continent.
Medullary rays are narrow in conifers and invisible to the naked eye, so to see them it’s necessary to mount thin wood samples on a slide for examination under a microscope.
3.2.2 Angiosperms Hardwoods are more complex than gymnosperms. There are a number of specialised cells present in angiosperms absent from gymnosperms. For instance, the means of conducting liquid foodstuffs up and down the tree in nearly all cases is through the vascular tubular vessels. This is distinctly different to the liquid-conducting tracheids of conifers. The vessels in angiosperms form a bundle of pipes encircling the tree. The fibrous tracheids of hardwoods are much smaller than they are in conifers and because of their thick walls they are not well suited to conduct liquids. Unlike the softwoods, the rays of deciduous trees are often easily visible, e.g., in oaks, sycamore, maple, beech etc. Resin canals are rare in angiosperms, but some tropical plants such as the rubber tree produce gum and have gum ducts.
My biggest stumbling block in getting started on my forthcoming Dutch tool chest book was (and remains) the camera. At Popular Woodworking Magazine, we had a fancy camera (we took our own step photos), but I always used it on the fully automatic mode. And I haven’t taken a photo with anything other than my phone since 2017.
Neither fully automatic mode nor phone snaps will fly for a book. I had to learn how to use at least a few of the bells and whistles on Christopher Schwarz’s Canon 5D, make friends with his ARRI LED light setup and, perhaps most important for me, learn how to zoom in on a particular spot to set the focus in live view (I have bad astigmatism and need new glasses).
It’s all so fancy (to me).
Chris was kind enough to give me a crash course and answer many inane (and repeat) questions as I got started. A week later and I’m having fun playing around with depth of field, shadows and blithely switching between a 2-second delay and a 10-second delay as needed. And yesterday, I learned how to hook up and use the remote shutter release! (I realize that doesn’t sound at all impressive, but the last time I used a remote shutter release it was a threaded shutter release cable for my father’s circa-1960 Asahi Pentax SLR that I used in college. And it was about three decades old by then.)
But I think I have it under control. With all but the lid finished on chest No. 1, I’ve managed to reduce the number of not-quite-right shots and the time to get a good one. On day 1, it took me at least 15 minutes to get the “right” image. I’m now down to about 5 minutes per. But at 5 minutes per, it sure takes a lot longer to build things than simply, well, building (a fact I’d managed to forget in my three years since PWM).
My plan is to discuss every reasonable approach to building these chests (and in the offing teach many techniques applicable to all kinds of builds), so no matter a reader’s tool kit, skill set or penchant for pre- or post-industrial woodworking, there will be a technique that appeals. That means I’ll be building quite a few chests (both large and small)…or at least parts of chests for close-up photography.
So I hope to get faster still with the photos – and better at deciding what to shoot and what not to (right now, I’m shooting almost every step). Otherwise, I’ll be done before the book is.
Chest on chest. The top one has fewer dovetails and more woodworking lessons.
