I just packaged up a batch of Crucible Card Scrapers and they are en route to our warehouse tonight. We have sold out as of 8:15 this morning….
As I mentioned last week, we are consolidating the Lost Art Press and Crucible websites to make our lives (and yours) a bit simpler. We have set up a bunch of redirects to help direct the traffic to the right place, but we are sure there will be 404s and LOLs. Apologies for sending you literature on sausage making at home. It was not our intent.
Back to scrapers. This isn’t the biggest batch we’ve made, but we hope this helps satisfy the demand. Note that we have not raised the price (we resist Adam Smith’s invisible backhand).
This weekend I went through the final proof of Marc Adams’s forthcoming book, The Difference Makers, to be published this summer by Lost Art Press. It’s a rich portfolio of work by 30 makers in diverse woodworking forms and styles. Although I was familiar with some of the woodworkers before I read the book, Marc introduced me to several new ones. The work is gorgeous—technically brilliant and in many cases jaw-droppingly inspiring. I also found Marc’s profiles of the artists a compelling read. Even though I’ve now read every word of this book twice, I am going to purchase a copy when it’s available. I want to be able to look back at those photographs and be reminded to do my best.
Each of us can come up with a list of individuals we admire. Marc presents the artists in this book as exemplary members of a generation on the cutting edge of craft, not only on account of their hands-on work, but for their thinking (and in some cases, writing) about tools, furniture, sculpture and surface decoration. As I reflected on who might be included in my own list of difference makers during a Sunday afternoon walk, I came up with a short list of names: Megan Fitzpatrick, Sarah Marriage and Laura Mays. Here’s why.
I’ve been a woodworker since 1980 and have made my living as a cabinetmaker for most of those years. As a woman in a field long populated primarily by men, I’ve had my challenges, ranging from vague expressions of gender-based discrimination to sexist hijinks and one straightforward sexual proposition. Worst of all, one skilled co-worker at a small shop in rural England quit his job a few weeks after I was hired and killed himself a few months later. “It’s because of you,” said another employee who had known us both. It was 1985, and I was in my mid 20s, mature enough to recognize the insanity of this response to the hiring of a woman, yet still vulnerable to a deep sense of guilt.
Even so, the most insidious effect of being a woman in a field where men have almost exclusively made the rules and determined the standards has come from seeing woodworking as a field into which I was intruding. The problem was not that I minded being an intruder in a men’s club (I didn’t); it had more to do with how I perceived myself and others. On the exceedingly rare occasions when a woman woodworker did appear in the national media (most notably, Aimé Ontario Fraser in the pages of Fine Woodworking), the main thing I, along with most people, noticed was that she was a woman. By far the most common response from readers to editors upon the publication of an article by a woman has long been “Thank you for featuring a woman in the magazine!” What about her work?! Oh, sorry; that has long been secondary to her gender by virtue of its rarity in this context.
Accepting that you don’t really belong does a number on how you see yourself and others, no matter how hard you tell yourself to ignore this message, recognizing intellectually that its validity has long passed. I am of a generation raised to be nice, even in the face of insult. “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me” was the prescribed mantra when I was a child. “They’re being stupid. Just ignore them” came later on, followed by “Don’t make a big deal of your gender. That only makes gender even more of a focus. Just get on with your work. It will speak for itself.” (Please see the last sentence of the previous paragraph.)
Three decades later, Megan, Sarah, and Laura seriously shook up my world. Not only did they mention gender; they made it a focus of their work (note: a focus, not the only one), and they had a powerful rationale for doing so. Women now constitute a significant percentage of woodworkers, especially in the field of studio furniture. Publishing media should represent this shift, not only by citing statistics, but by including images of women working, as they long have with men. When it comes to influencing how we see the world at an existential level, visual imagery is far more powerful than numbers.
Beyond concern for proportionate representation, we all need role models. My role models in woodworking have all been men. Sure, the world of social media today is filled with young women working with wood, but those depictions are new, and notably, most are self-generated. For decades I was comfortable being the tough girl in the shop or on the jobsite, but I couldn’t see myself continuing in this field once I reached middle age. I couldn’t even conceive of how a 50-year-old woman cabinetmaker might look. What Megan and Sarah wrote and said about the importance of visibility catapulted me into a visceral realization that the question of who is granted visibility is not a matter of chance. Sure, as some have pointed out, it depends in part on the willingness of members of under-represented groups to be seen–a willingness that isn’t always present. But ultimately the people who determine visibility, at least, beyond social media, are those who control traditional publishing media and the institutions and organizations with sufficient cultural clout to venture beyond prevailing norms. Finding bases for inclusion often entails broadening the criteria for acceptance (whether into a publication, an exhibit, a club, or a guild) beyond long-established understandings of what constitutes success and what’s considered worthwhile.
Every day I look at Instagram posts by women woodworkers—sculptors, studio furniture makers, designer-builders of custom work and more. More and more women are appearing on the pages of Fine Woodworking magazine, American Craft and related periodicals. My eyes are now so saturated by images of women woodworkers that I no longer focus on their gender, but on their work. One paradox we face today is that the only way to stop going on and on about gender is by drawing attention to skewed proportional representation and calling for an overdue adjustment, as Laura Mays did in an influential Facebook post in February, 2017, Megan did in her editor’s letter that same year and Sarah did in an essay for American Craft.
These three women, all accomplished teachers as well as woodworkers, have significantly shifted my views on the importance of paying attention to gender. In doing so, they have also helped me see myself in a healthier way. I call that making a difference.—Nancy Hiller, author of Making Things Work
Jögge Sundqvist, the author of “Slöjd in Wood,” was recently featured on the Swedish program Go’kväll and is shown building and painting a chair.
The program is in Swedish, but you can still learn a lot from watching the video. First, it’s great to see where Jögge works and the incredible pile of potential parts he warehouses. Also nice: The way he splits the spindles for the backrest and then carves them so they are sympathetic to the pith in the branches. And the details on how he fits his legs.
This was my fun activity yesterday – hand-stamping 1,000 envelopes for the next batch of card scrapers.
We’re working on the next batch of Crucible Card Scrapers this weekend and will have them in the store in the coming week. We ran into a production snag at the waterjet cutter, but we’ve gotten that fixed so things are moving smoothly again.
As to Lump Hammers, Brendan Gaffney is planning on assembling another big batch this week. We’re also working on a way to greatly increase our output (believe it or not it has to do with tool paths on the milling machine).
As I’ve mentioned before, we are quite grumpy when things are out of stock and are working at this every day. We greatly appreciate everyone’s patience and hope this is a short-term problem.
Website Change As a way to streamline our lives, we’re moving all the Crucible tools into the Lost Art Press store. When the move is complete, we’ll close the dedicated Crucible website and redirect all the traffic to Lost Art Press.
Consolidating the websites will save us loads of time, which is the primary reason for the switch. We’ll also save a little money by having only one website.
I am certain there will be some chatter out in the world that this consolidation is “the beginning of the end” for Crucible. I assure you, it is absolutely not. In fact, I’m planning on getting a Crucible tattoo on my forearm – my first – to match John’s. That’s how dedicated we are to growing the tool business.
FIG. 1. DRAWER WITH PROJECTING MOULD The reference letters in the various sketches are as follows: DF, drawer front; K, kicker; B, bearer; P, dustboard; T. B., top bearer; R, runner; C, cocked bead; V, veneer.
One of the perplexing questions which the cabinet maker appears to have never settled definitely is: should drawer fronts stand out slightly in front of the carcase and the bearers, or should they stand back with a slight break? Here are a few notes which may assist readers in deciding the question.
At Fig. 1 the drawer projects beyond the bearers and at the same time forms a rebate or lap around the drawer proper which is more or less dustproof. In cheap work the projecting front is applied, in which case the drawer is through dovetailed at each corner and, when completed and run into position, the 3/8 in. or 1/2 in. front piece is applied and glued in position. If shrinkage occurs in the drawer boxing, the applied piece hides the joint owing to its overlap.
There is, however, likely to be one defect when the drawer is open. Owing to atmospheric changes, and the continual opening and shutting, the polished front edges of the bearers are apt to become marked by the overlapping portion of the drawer front (see arrow).
FIG. 2. DRAWER RECESSED. The reference letters in the various sketches are as follows: DF, drawer front; K, kicker; B, bearer; P, dustboard; T. B., top bearer; R, runner; C, cocked bead; V, veneer.
At Fig. 2 the drawer front stands in about 3/32 in., and this method is the one most generally used. The usual trouble with this type is that the polisher neglects to fill in, stain and polish the inside edges of the bearers and carcase ends to the same degree of efficiency as the drawer fronts, etc. (see arrow). The result is that the continued use of the drawer quickly wears away the polish on the break and the job appears shabby.
The moulding around the drawer front is worked in a variety of shapes and the drawer front has the appearance of a fielded panel. If the face of this fielded panel happens to be veneered there is very little fear that the edges of the veneer will chip away, because it does not come in contact with the bearers.
If the drawer front has square edges and is not fielded, the veneer is liable to chip at the edges which come in contact with the bearers.
FIG. 3. DRAWER PROJECTING. The reference letters in the various sketches are as follows: DF, drawer front; K, kicker; B, bearer; P, dustboard; T. B., top bearer; R, runner; C, cocked bead; V, veneer.
Fig. 3 is a very successful method for drawer fronts. Here the drawer front stands 1/16 in. to 1/8 in. forward and the break (see arrow) on the drawer front does not rub against the bearers or the carcase end. The polisher rarely neglects to obtain a good finish on this top edge of the drawer (which usually carries the lock) and when filling in and staining the front of the drawer sufficient material creeps over the ends of the front to ensure a decent finish on the end grain. This appears to be a fairly satisfactory method and the edge of the polished drawer front is not worn away by the continued opening and closing action. The idea, of course, works out the same even if the drawer front is a square edged one; that is, without any moulding around it.
FIG. 4. THE USE OF THE COCKED BEAD. The reference letters in the various sketches are as follows: DF, drawer front; K, kicker; B, bearer; P, dustboard; T. B., top bearer; R, runner; C, cocked bead; V, veneer.
At Fig. 4 we come to what is probably the oldest and best method of protecting a veneered drawer front. This is known as the cocked bead method and is frequently found on Queen Anne furniture. Around the drawer front a rebate is formed and into this the beads (C) are glued. In some cases they are also pinned. The beads have one rounded edge and are mitred at each corner. The projection when polished is not defaced by friction and the edges of the veneered front do not come in contact with the bearers or the carcase ends during the travel of the drawer.
FIG. 5. MOULDED BEARERS. The reference letters in the various sketches are as follows: DF, drawer front; K, kicker; B, bearer; P, dustboard; T. B., top bearer; R, runner; C, cocked bead; V, veneer.
A somewhat unusual method is given at Fig. 5. It is costly to produce and calls for very fine craftsmanship. The edges of the bearers and the inside edges of the carcase ends have a mould worked upon them. The bearers are twin-tenoned into the ends (see Fig. 6) and all the moulded edges are mitred together. Thus we have the mouldings worked upon the solid portions of the carcase and bearers instead of working the moulding on to the drawer fronts. The drawer front usually forms a break with the mouldings by an inset of 1/16 in.
FIG. 6. DETAILS OF FIG. 5
Drawer fronts may be stopped in their required positions by fixing two rectangular pieces about 1/8 in. thick immediately behind the lower edge of the drawer front; or they may be stopped by fixing suitable pieces of wood to engage the back ends of the drawer sides. In either case the worker should arrange the stops so that no shrinkage will take place.
