Lost Art Press

It might seem a bit out of character for Lost Art Press to publish “The Difference Makers” by Marc Adams. Unlike many of our titles, this book is filled with furniture that scratches at the stratosphere. These are pieces that you would see in a modern art museum or a gallery in Milan. And not the lineup of a publisher that wallows in the nitty gritty of historical handwork.

The way I see it, publishing “The Difference Makers” is just another way for us to challenge both ourselves and our readers.

And it begins with a confession: All too often I end up searching out furniture that looks somewhat like the furniture I now build. I focus on historical vernacular forms and their connection to 20th-century design. So the majority of the books in my library touch on those topics in one way or another.

It’s a lot like eating Southern food. Sure, you can survive on fried chicken, grits and collard greens for the rest of your days. But wouldn’t it be sad if you never had your mind blown by Ethiopian food?

No matter what sort of furniture you build, “The Difference Makers” is designed to shock your palate. It might be the negative space of Binh Pho, the textures created by Michael Hosaluk, the astonishing realism of Julie Bender or the visual trickery employed by Silas Kopf. You might not like all of it. But it will challenge you as a designer and builder. As we spent the last year editing this book I kept looking at the photos, wondering, “How was that built? And what possessed them? (In a good way).”

And that’s where the text of the book comes in. Marc knows all of these makers personally. They have taught for him at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking. He’s watched these people work – sometimes over decades – and grow. These 30 people are the best who have passed through his school’s giant garage doors.

To package up all this beautiful work, we decided to challenge ourselves on the manufacturing and printing size. We wanted to create the most beautiful largest-format book possible without cracking the $100 mark. This took a bit of math – finding a paper with a roll size that would produce a minimum of waste and a maximum amount of surface for ink. We also wanted to push the boundaries on the paper. This book is made with a heavy and bright paper we’ve never used (or thought we could afford).

Then we added our normal high-quality binding, which we haven’t been able to improve on.

Why So Quiet?
We know that some of you might have been surprised to see the announcement of “The Difference Makers” with very little run-up to the launch. This was due to some chaos at our printing plant (three words: private equity takeover). As a result, we’ve been done with this book on our end for months but it wasn’t certain until late last week when it would go on press. And then we got the news: It would be shipped in mid-July.

We’ll be talking more about the book in the coming weeks. We’re all very excited to see it, and I know you’ll like it. We’ll release an excerpt in the coming weeks, but until then, take a look at these two short features from the book. One on Frank Pollaro and the other on David Franklin.

Franklin

Pollaro

Neither is someone whose work I would have followed or enjoyed until I read “The Difference Makers.” But now, wow.

— Christopher Schwarz

Editor’s note: I haven’t been able to talk much about “The Difference Makers”  by Marc Adams because the printing plant’s schedule has been quite messed up. We weren’t sure when it would go on press. Well we now know the book will be delivered in mid-July. If you order before the book is delivered, you will receive a free pdf download of the book at checkout.

The book is $72 and you can place a pre-publication order here.

— Christopher Schwarz

Thanks to the internet, you can see a lot of interesting work with ease. But it’s easy to forget that the vast majority of the images on your screen are of pieces that are derivative, merely acceptable in their craftsmanship and were made by people at the beginning of their journey.

When you encounter true greatness it is shocking, inspiring and a bit humbling. The hair on your neck might stand on end. Your stomach might lurch like you were on a roller coaster. You might want to quit your job.

Encountering this kind of greatness is also an incredibly rare experience these days.

Since 1993, Marc Adams has invited hundreds of the best craftsmen and women to teach at his woodworking school in Franklin, Ind., which has grown to become the country’s (if not the world’s) largest. Every year, thousands of students soak up the instruction from a who’s who list of woodworkers and artists in multiple disciplines.

Every year, Marc has expanded the school and brought in a different mix of new instructors and veteran ones. As a result, he has figured out who is the best. He’s seen their work. He’s seen them at work.

Now Marc has selected the 30 best men and women makers that he’s worked with for his new book, “The Difference Makers: 30 Contemporary Makers; 30 Remarkable Stories.” It’s a sweeping journey into the work and lives of a diverse group of people, from pure traditional woodworkers to people whose brain is from the future. Furniture makers. Toolmakers. Luthiers. Sculptors. Engravers.

Each chapter reads like a short biographical novel – recounting the person’s life and how they became the artisan they are today. Then Marc offers an analysis and interpretation of their work – why it’s special – and tells a few stories about what they are like in the workshop.

And then there’s a gallery of the person’s work. Even if you never read a single word of “The Difference Makers,” we think you will spend hours poring over the photos.

All of this is wrapped up in a beautiful and huge book – 11” x 11” and 260 pages long. The large and square format of the book allowed us to reproduce the images as large as possible. The book is printed on a heavy and coated #100 stock – the nicest and smoothest paper we could find. Like all our books, the pages are sewn together and bound with fiber tape so the binding will outlast you. The book is hardbound with the boards covered in cotton cloth. And the entire package is wrapped with a long-wearing full-color dust jacket. It is made in the United States (Tennessee) using domestic materials.

We are honored to have worked with Marc and the 30 outstanding people featured in this book. Collecting their stories took Marc decades. Writing it all down took more than two years. And we are proud to present it to you so you can be inspired by it for many years to come.

This book will ship in mid-July.

“One should place a drawer at the end of the bench so that the workers can close up their minor tools like gouges, compasses, etc. There are even shops where the benches are finished with planks/panels all around [a closed base] which is very convenient because that prevents shavings and dust from entering in the shelf and the tools which you put inside are less likely to be lost.”

— M. Roubo, “l’Art du menuisier” translated in “With All the Precision Possible”

I’ve built a few workbenches for customers who insisted on me adding a drawer under the benchtop as shown in Plate 11 of “l’Art du menuisier.” They also wanted a lock for the drawer, as shown in the plate.

At the time I built these drawers, I considered them superfluous. Plus they interfere with some clamping operations at the end of the workbench. As a result, I’ve never added a drawer to my personal workbench. I keep all my stuff in my tool chest, like a British dude.

Today I am reconsidering my position.

During the last year we’ve had hundreds of people through our shop. Some are students. Some are customers. Some are careless. All are curious. On Wednesday when I started dovetailing a series of seven drawers I played out a familiar scene.

“Have you seen my .7mm mechanical pencil?”

“Have you seen my Tite-Mark floating around?”

“Where’s my block plane?”

When you have other people in your shop, your stuff gets moved. Messed with. Even if you lock up your tool chest at night, during the day it’s open and people will poach a hammer, pencil or ruler if they are in a hurry and not thinking.

I’ve asked students, visitors and fellow woodworkers to please put things back. Doesn’t work.

During my panic on Wednesday I made a list of my stuff that has gone missing recently.

• Mechanical pencils (several of them)
• Starrett 6” rule
• Tite-Mark marking gauge
• Small Starrett dividers for dovetails
• Marking knife
• Paint can opener
• Starrett 6” combination square
• Diemakers square

Most (but not all) of these tools were located after I searched through the shop and the machine room. But after 20 minutes of looking for a rule, I start to feel like I’m losing money.

Hmmm, I thought, all of these things would fit in a small drawer under the benchtop. And if I locked it, then those tools would always be there when I needed them.

I feel a bit like a jerk for doing this. But I figure that building a drawer is a better idea than asking for anxiety medicine from my doctor.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I started teaching in Germany about 10 years ago, I noticed they performed a lot of woodworking tasks differently than Americans. There was the obvious stuff – pins-first dovetails are the norm, they use bowsaws instead of handsaws, wooden planes instead of metal.

But the more I worked with the traditionally trained joiners and cabinetmakers there, I also picked up a lot of small differences that are just as interesting.

Here’s one that stuck with me. While Americans might sticker their work to help keep it flat overnight, the German woodworkers I’ve worked with tend to clamp the pieces together instead. (Disclaimer: I’m not saying this is universal. It’s not. I’ve just noticed it a lot there in the small number of shops I’ve worked in. Do you know how much it pains me to put this parenthetical in both italics and boldface?)

When I asked if clamping the pieces together helps keep them flat, the Germans shrugged and said, “maybe.”

It’s a good answer.

These days there are times when I clamp parts together. Maybe it helps keep them flat, but I’ve found other reasons to do it.

1. It keeps the parts together, in a particular order and makes the whole mass quicker and safer to move. When resawing armbows and the like (as shown above) I want to keep the pieces in order. And when I move a stack of them, it’s easy for the stack to fall apart. Clamps fix this.
2. People are less likely to mess with your parts if they are clamped together. This is huge in a communal or commercial shop. Loose parts get knocked around. Or picked up, examined and put down elsewhere. Or used as backing boards. Or worse. Clamping them up reduces careless and unfortunate events.
3. Maybe it helps keep them flat. In my experience it doesn’t hurt.

— Christopher Schwarz

Lucy and I will move above the storefront in early August. Our new home will be about one-third the size of our old home. This is a good thing.

As a result, I need to find new homes for my prototype pieces that we use here in Fort Mitchell that we’ll have no room for in Covington. Plus, I’ll be selling off some special books (such as leather editions of LAP books) and some other nice and sentimental stuff.

Sorry. The chair is sold.

First up is this stick chair. Made in red oak and finished in black paint and lacquer, it is designed for a person who is 6’ or taller. The armbow is 9” off the spindle deck and the seat height is sized for a person with long legs.

This prototype is perfect structurally and has a nice new finish on it as of today (gawd, I sound like a used car salesman). Its demerits are aesthetic only. I’m not thrilled with the way the four back sticks fan (so slightly) outward. This was intentional. And then I never did it again.

I liked the piece enough to sign it – if that tells you something.

Anyway, the price is $550 plus delivery. The price includes a custom crate, but not trucking costs. Usually trucking these chairs costs $200 to $400 depending on where you live in the country.

If you want it, don’t go to the comments. Send me a note through my personal site here.

First one to say “I’ll take it” gets it.

— Christopher Schwarz