Lost Art Press

Saddling the Dugout Chair (and a Cologne Request)

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I tried to finish the seat of the dugout chair today in preparation for our open day tomorrow (10 a.m. to 5 p.m. – lots to do and see). But I was only able to squeeze in about 30 minutes of work as I was dealing with heavy construction out back with the Lost Art Press Horse Garage.

In any case, I’m trying not to make this seat too refined or precious. I want it to match the ruggedness of the chair. But I don’t want it to look sloppy. So I’m shooting for “done quickly and with purpose.”

This seat is made from the last significant chunk of Eastern white pine from Midwest Woodworking I own. I’m going to miss this stuff.

I don’t wear cologne (heck, I barely wear deodorant). But if someone could make a cologne that smells like Eastern white pine when it’s being cut, I would actually wear that scent. Of course, the scent would only really attract beavers and some bark-eating grubs. But oh well.

— Christopher Schwarz, editor, Lost Art Press
Personal site: christophermschwarz.com

Registration for Welsh Stick Chair With Chris Williams

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You can now register for the chairbuilding class with Chris Williams via this link.

Note: Registering for the class or the waiting list is free – they won’t ask you for a credit card to register. After the dust settles, we will invoice the six attendees, as discussed here.

If the six slots are filled, please consider signing up for the waiting list. People’s lives will change in the next seven months.

See you in May!

— Christopher Schwarz

The Lost Art Press Horse Garage

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Horse Garage Overall COA

Once you grab a sledgehammer, it’s hard to put it down.

What began as a mild demolition of the interior of the Horse Garage at our storefront blossomed/became infected. Now I am neck-deep in a major construction project that requires all my skills, most of my time and nearly everything in my bank account.

The reward, however, will be that I’ll have a place for the few machines I own, and they’ll be steps away from my bench room. Also, the butt-end of our property will look a lot more like it did the day in 1906 that they constructed the garage behind the store.

In addition to time, money and muscle, this project requires the cooperation of the City of Covington. We’re in an historical overlay district. Luckily, city officials here are helpful and supportive. I’ve yet to encounter an unreasonable roadblock. But you do have to submit paperwork. Lots of it. And I don’t like paperwork.

Horse Garage DoorsToday we proposed our changes and backed them up with archaeological evidence, drawings and a fully signed and dated form. If this gets approved, then I will be on a fast track to build four huge doors, assist in installing a new membrane roof and weatherproof the building before winter arrives.

I’m optimistic. Not only because of the huge carrot dangling in front of me – a nice room for machines – but because of the help of the local Latin American community. The restoration of Covington is being built with the backs of the immigrant laborers, and my building is no different. While I’m on the roof and lifting concrete blocks every dang day, this job would be a nightmare without the help of Manuel, Hugo and a number of other strong backs.

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I am not trying to be political here, just honest. They work as hard as I do. They push me to take on as much as I can manage. And they do it all with a laugh and a smile.

As we lift these 50-lb. blocks up into place I can think only of my great-grandparents on the Schwarz side. According to my grandfather, they arrived in the Dakotas from Germany in the early part of the 20th century and were put to work making bricks. They saved enough to move to St. Louis and buy a boarding house. My grandfather was a paper salesman and freelance photographer. My father was the first Schwarz to go to college and became a physician.

And now I’m back to the bricks.

Circular irony aside, it feels damn good.

— Christopher Schwarz