In “The Anarchist’s Workbench” (download it for free here) I mention that the device we now call a “Crisscross” from Benchcrafted was once called “St. Peter’s Cross” or “Croix de St. Pierre.”
Several people have called foul, saying (as the record states) that St. Peter was crucified on an upside-down cross, not the X-shaped cross shape created by the mechanism. It was instead St. Andrew who was executed on an X-shaped cross. So the mechanism should be called the St. Andrew’s cross.
The reason I continue to call it St. Peter’s cross has nothing to do with religion, personal ignorance or trying to offend. I promise. Instead, the first place I can find a reference to the mechanism calls it “St. Peter’s Cross,” so I use the original name until I can find an earlier reference.
The reference is in the 1890 book “Every Man His Own Mechanic” (Ward, Lock & Co., London) by Francis Young. Young writes:
“This ingenious contrivance for keeping the inner surface of the cheek of the bench-vice parallel to the outer surface of the board that forms the front of the bench is the “Croix de St. Pierre,” or, “St. Peter’s Cross,” as it is called on the continent, where it is very generally adopted and used by all carpenters and joiners.“
Young might very well have been mistaken in calling it “St. Peter’s Cross.” Or perhaps Young called it that name for a reason we don’t know. Until I can find an earlier reference, I’ll continue to use the name that Young used when I talk about the mechanism’s history. And I’ll use “Crisscross” when referring to the modern mechanism.
Shortly after “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” was released I got a nasty call from a reader.
“I’m a graphic designer. I own other Lost Art Press books,” he said. “And I have to say this new book has a terrible, amateurish design.”
“Exactly right,” I replied.
Each of the three books in the “anarchist” series takes its design cues from different points in history, reflecting something about the book’s content or storyline. (This is true for all of our books; we don’t have a house style.)
“The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” is supposed to look like a manifesto set on a Macintosh. The chapter headings were made with a clicky label maker. The body copy is 11-point Cochin, a free font, and is set on a 17-point baseline (way too much space between the lines). The font used for the quotations is Courier 8 point, another freely available font.
From a broader perspective, the book doesn’t have a formal “grid,” which is the underlying structure used by most page designers when setting columns, photos and drawings. Photos intrude into the body copy in awkward ways. Yet, the book is (I think) still readable from a typographical perspective.
For the second book, “The Anarchist’s Design Book,” I looked to 18th-century pattern books and 17th-century texts. The book’s physical size is the same as Andre Felibien’s “Des Principes de l’Architecture…” The body copy is Caslon 12 point (on 13-point leading). Caslon is from the early 18th century (circa 1722). The style of the subheadings, the drop capitals and even the running heads on the pages are all ideas swiped from early books.
Plus, of course, the book’s copperplate etchings by Briony Morrow-Cribbs add to the overall older feel to the book. The idea behind the book design (and the book itself) was to treat vernacular furniture with the same respect as the high-style stuff.
The third book, “The Anarchist’s Workbench” (download it for free here), is from an entirely different place. It is meant to echo the books of the early 20th century that were set with Linotype machines. The body copy is, again Caslon, but the letters are set tighter. The type is 10.5 point on 12-point leading. In fact, all of the text in the book (except the data page at the front with the ISBN) is set in some form of Caslon – a common feature of books of this time.
Unlike the other two books, the text is carefully justified to look more formal and present letterspacing that looks like it was done by a real designer. The images and text are locked to a rigid grid system. The design is (supposed to look) mature. And that mature design is supposed to reflect the ideas in the book (poo jokes aside).
Apologies for the “behind the scenes” content. I get asked sometimes why our books look so different. This is why.
Thank you to the many of you who have sent in corrections to “The Anarchist’s Workbench” (y’all are fast readers)!
I’ve updated the pdf (even “spit top bench,” though I found that one funny) – the new (and free) pdf can be downloaded here.
If you find any mistakes in this new version, please let me know (my nickname below is linked to my email)! NB: Use Adobe’s Acrobat Reader (a free program) to view the book – it won’t look right in Preview (the default pdf viewer program on Macs).
And if you’re interested in ordering the hardcover book, please click here.
You can now download a free pdf of “The Anarchist’s Workbench” via this link. It is a direct link. You don’t have to register for anything, submit your email or even declare you aren’t a robot.
The file contains no DRM (digital rights management). It is not locked. And it is covered by a creative commons non-commercial license. This allows you to adapt and distribute the material in any way you like – as long as it isn’t sold.
Or, if you prefer, you can place a pre-publication order for the book from our store via this link. The book is $27 and is on its way to the printer. It should ship in late August. The 344-page 6” x 9” book will be printed on #70 matte coated paper. Its signatures will be sewn and secured with fiber tape for durability. The pages will be hardbound and covered in cotton cloth. Like all Lost Art Press books, “The Anarchist’s Workbench” is produced entirely in the United States.
Why are we giving this book away for free? You can read all about that here. You can read more about the book in the description in our store (there’s a download link there as well). You also can read more about the workbench in this earlier blog entry.
In the coming weeks, I hope to release the electronic construction drawings (in SketchUp) plus other supplementary materials. I just have to get them semi-presentable first.
If You Find Typographical Errors
Some of you are speedy and careful readers. If you do find a typographical error in the pdf, would you send a note to Megan Fitzpatrick at fitz@lostartpress.com? Though a lot of people have edited the book, there are always a few things that slip through. Thanks.
The method I use to build kitchen cabinets is simple, strong and quick. This allows me to put more time into special details than many commercial cabinetmakers consider justifiable. This post, which responds to Eddy, who submitted the following comment on an earlier one, covers a couple of examples.
“I’m very taken with the cabinets in the 4th photo, the same photo that graces the cover of Kitchen Think. I would love to know how they are constructed. Maybe they are the same as the process you outline except for the cabinet on the right.”
1.
Eddy is correct that the main cabinet with doors is built according to the same basic method outlined in Chapter 3. The finished panel at the left end is applied to the basic cabinet built of 3/4″-thick veneer-core plywood; it fits behind the face frame, as shown in the drawing on p.43. At the client’s request, we made the end panel look the same as the one visible on the right side of the photo here, and it’s screwed to the carcase from the inside of the cabinet.
The narrow open cabinet at the right of the picture was designed to hold cookbooks and jars of dry goods. As Eddy suspected, it’s constructed somewhat differently, though the differences are slight. Instead of building a plywood carcase and applying a finished end, the cabinet is built of solid quartersawn oak. To get the look of separate boards, as our client requested, my employee at the time, Daniel O’Grady, who was the principal cabinetmaker on this job, constructed a cabinet side by nailing the two boards to cleats. You can see the location of the cleats from the nails. I wasn’t concerned about wood movement because the boards are only about 6″ wide and quartersawn.
I don’t recall what the other side is made of. It could be a 12″-deep piece of solid quartersawn white oak or a pair of boards. The point is, once the two-board panel was assembled, Daniel treated it just as he would a piece of veneer-core plywood. It and its mate on the opposite side are joined to the solid top and bottom of the cabinet by the same means as I describe in Chapter 3. One other anomaly of this cabinet: Being open, it has a shiplapped oak back to match the general character of the cabinets.
2.
The suspended glazed cabinet here, in the kitchen of Fritz Lieber and Donald Maxwell, is another anomalous example. I originally designed this cabinet to be attached at the wall and have its finished end extend down to the counter. The general contractor, Bert Gilbert, suggested that instead of blocking off part of the counter with the cabinet end we could hang the cabinet from the beam you see here. It was my first experience with all-thread rod, but not my last! Kudos to Bert for this suggestion.
The operational side of the cabinet has two glazed doors. Knowing that the clients were going to put an exhaust hood just a few inches away, I took the hood specs into account in the cabinet’s design; had I not done so, the right-hand door would not have opened. (Photo: Spectrum Creative Group)The back (public side) of the upper cabinet. (Photo: Spectrum Creative Group)
This one is built quite differently – more along the lines of a showcase fitted with a “window” on the public side and two doors at the front. The basic case consists of three frames constructed with mortise-and-tenon joinery. The end at the wall is veneer-core plywood. For more of a furniture look than that of basic kitchen cabinetry, I mitered the stiles of the three frames at the finished end so that they would show quartersawn figure on all sides. I then glued the frames together at the mitered ends and reinforced the joints with brads.
Here’s a plan view drawing. (It’s intended to show the principle, not the actual dimensions.)
Although the drawing says the leaded glass back is fitted into a rabbeted frame, the rabbet is engineered–I fitted matching oak fillets into the casework to create a rabbet in effect, then affixed the panel, in the frame I made for it, into that.
Every kitchen I do has multiple anomalous features. They keep me sane, always providing new challenges.
Editor’s note: “Kitchen Think” is now at the printer and will ship in early August. We are now taking pre-publication orders for the book. If you place your order before the book ships, you will receive a free pdf of the book at checkout.
Thank you to the many of you who have sent in corrections to “The Anarchist’s Workbench” (y’all are fast readers)!
