At first glance, the workbench in “The Anarchist’s Workbench” appears to be almost identical to the bench I built in 2005, which has shown up in a number of magazines and books. It’s chunky, made from yellow pine and the workholding is a leg vise, planing stop and holdfasts.
Despite their similarities, the workbench plan in this book is a significant improvement. During the last 15 years I have found better ways to laminate the top using fewer clamps, easier ways to make the massive joints, plus layout tricks here and there that result in tighter joints all around. The top is thicker, heavier and creates less waste when using 2×12 dimensional lumber.
The workholding is far more effective. Thanks to improvements in vise manufacturing and a mature understanding of how these leg vises work, the vise is strong enough to hold boards without the help of a sliding deadman. There is no parallel guide, so you can work at the vise without stooping. The planing stop uses a metal tooth, made by a blacksmith, that holds your work with a lot less sliding. And the pattern of holdfast holes in the top – something that took me years to get right – ensures there will almost always be a hole right where you need one.
The fact that the bench is similar to my bench from 2005 is somewhat of a comfort to me. It means I wasn’t too far off the mark when I began my journey. And equally remarkable is that 15 years of building workbenches of all different forms, from Roman benches to a miniature one from Denmark, wasn’t able to shake my conviction that a simple timber-framed bench is ideal for many woodworkers.
In addition to the fully matured workbench design, this book also dives a little deeper into the past to explore the origins of this form. I first encountered this type of bench in a French book from about 1774, and at the time I couldn’t find much else written about it. Since then, libraries and museums have digitized their collections and opened them to the public. So we’ve been able to trace its origins back another 200 years and found evidence it emerged somewhere in the Low Countries or northern France in the 1500s. We also have little doubt there are more discoveries to be made.
And finally, the story of this bench is deeply intertwined with my own story as a woodworker, researcher, publisher and – of course – aesthetic anarchist.
That’s why we’ve decided to give away the content of this book to the world at large. When it is released later this summer, the electronic version of the book will be free to download, reproduce and give away to friends. You can excerpt chapters for your woodworking club. Print it all out, bind it and give it away as a gift. The only thing you cannot do is sell it or make money off of it in any way.
If you prefer a nicely bound book instead of an electronic copy, we sympathize. That’s what we prefer, too. So we plan to print some copies of this book for people who prefer it in that format. Those will cost money to manufacture (we don’t make low-quality crap here at Lost Art Press) so we won’t be able to give those away. But we will sell them – as always – at a fair price for a book that is printed in the United States, sewn, bound in fiber tape and covered in a durable hardback.
This book is the final chapter in the “anarchist” series – “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” “The Anarchist’s Design Book” and now “The Anarchist’s Workbench.” And it is (I hope) my last book on workbenches. So it seemed fitting that to thank all the woodworkers who have supported me during this journey, this book should belong to everyone.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. If this goes well, John and I are discussing making the other two books in the anarchist series free to download. We don’t know when (or exactly how) we will make that decision. But it is on the table.
Note to readers: Yesterday (25 May) some of you may have received a version of this post. That version was pulled back shortly after publishing due to multiple problems with how the images were loading. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused you. Chris Schwarz very kindly ran the images through his design software to straighten out the problem.
In early April I wrote a short post about two Russian children’s books published in the 1920s. One book was titled “Table” (about making a table) and the other was a fairy tale about a handplane making another handplane. Both books are in the Special Collections of the University of Washington Libraries. You can read the original post here.
Published in 1927, “How a Handplane Made a Handplane: A Fairy Tale” was written by Samuil Iakovlevich Marshak, considered to be the founder of Russian children’s literature. The illustrations are by Vladimir Vasil’evich Lebednev who introduced bright and bold graphics and changed the design of children’s literature. Together they produced an appealing tale for both children and adults.
Without a translation it is possible to partially figure out the plot. The book opens with a handplane, tools are introduced, a tree is felled and another handplane is made. With a translation a door is opened to the voices of the handplane and the other tools and you learn why a second handplane is made.
My translation is in prose. Although rhyming poetry is common in children’s books (and kids love it), I am not up to translating poems from one language to another, much less rhyming poems! Nevertheless, it is a charming story and I hope you enjoy it.
You can read the individual pages below. If you want to print and assemble your own book with a two-page spread you can download a pdf using this link:
Kanban for a blade and toolmaker, late 19th century, 29-3/8” x 22”, Mingei International Museum, San Diego.
During the Edo Period (1603-1868) urban centers of Japan expanded and merchants, relegated to the lower rungs of society, ran their own workshops and grew wealthy. As many shops had a similar appearance in crowded marketplaces, merchants used “kanban” (sign boards) to differentiate and advertise their shops. It has been said that advertising is the world’s second oldest profession.
“Shin ukie shiba sinmeigu no zu” by Tamagawa Shucho, 1775. Library of Congress.
By the mid-18th century, Edo had a population of more than 1 million, Osaka and Kyoto each had more than 400,000 residents. Edo became the center for the supply of food and urban consumer goods, while Osaka and Kyoto were busy as handcraft production and trading centers. Construction trades, banking and merchant associations flourished. In many Edo-period woodblock prints there are scenes of large crowds at markets and festivals. In the scene above it is easy to see how difficult it would be to find a particular shop without a sign pointing the way. Look closely and you will see several kanban. One example is just right of center: a large fan under its own small roof.
Kanban were made of wood, hand-painted paper and metal and designed to make it easy for the illiterate to find the goods they needed. A green grocer’s sign would have colorfully painted vegetables, a tobacco shop sign might have a pipe or a twist of tobacco. Although not a huge number of kanban survive we can find plenty of clues in the woodblock prints of the Edo, and later, the Meiji Period.
Top: 17th-century woodblock print of a brush maker’s shop; double-brush kanban, late Meiji, 30”x 19-1/2.” Bottom: single large sign, 1804-1830, 34.65”x 4.72,” Advertising Museum of Tokyo.
Brushes used for calligraphy were an important consumer product. In the woodblock print above, the shop’s kanban has a very short, fat brush. The two extant kanban give us a better idea of how kanban evolved from a sign board to the product becoming the sign. As you can see from the dimensions provided in the caption these brushes were large and would be easy to see from distance. Also note the convention of painting a brush as though it had been dipped in ink.
Edo Period woodblock prints with various kanban.
Kanban were placed at multiple points to direct customers to your shop. Multiple kanban were used to advertise more products or services. In the print at the top left, a tea shop (also serves udon) has a hanging sign and a ground-level kanban (bottom left). The ornately carved and painted kanban at the top-right was on a post high enough to be seen from all directions. In the bottom print a kanban is placed at the second story-level. At the end of the day kanban hanging at shopfronts and ground-level were taken in overnight. Kanban on posts and on the second story had small roofs and some (see the kanban on the post) had folding doors for protection from rain and snow.
Left: A gaku-hori (sign carver) at work, 1690. Right: “Mikiri no fuji” by Katsushika Hokusai, circa 1836, shows a kanban-gaki at work, Library of Congress.
Sign carvers and artists made and decorated kanban. The gaku hori carved kanban that could be hung on hooks at the shopfront, placed in a stand at ground level or on a post. The kanban-gaki was an itinerant artist hired to paint the needed wording on the ground-level kanban made of paper or wood. His ink pot is just to the right of his foot and his work box is next to the kanban.
Tenuki kanban for a candy shop, Meiji Period, 18”x18”.
The figure on a kanban might not appear to be tied directly to the product sold. A stylized tenuki, the mischievous racoon-dog of Japanese folklore, was often used on kanban outside a candy store.
Other kanban were visual puns – a type of advertisement that continues today. If it catches your eye and you enter the shop, then the kanban has done its job.
Toolmakers advertised in a more straightforward manner: their kanban showed exactly what they made and sold.
Edo Period, 53-1/2”x 17-3/4”, Kenichi Higasa Collection, Kobe.
A saw maker’s kanban made of wood, ink and lacquer. At the top it reads “guaranteed,” and below the saw it reads “we buy and sell.”
Left: 19th century, Collection of Matsumoto Mingeikan. Left: 19th century 50”x 7-1/2”, private collection.
Both of these kanban are for shops engaged in saw sharpening and setting (matate-ya).
This toolmaker’s kanban, like the one at the top of this post, is made of heavy hand-painted paper in a wood frame with iron fittings. As with most kanban it is double-sided with more tools on the other side (unfortunately an image of the other side isn’t available). Based on the kanban, this toolmaker (and the one at the top) made over 40 different tools including those used by woodworkers. Other metal objects made were shears, scissors, lock and flints.
A close-up of a section shows the fine detail of the hand painting and also shows writing on some of the sawblades. Some of the writing translates as “good quality” and other writing is thought to refer to well-known toolmakers. One name may be the owner of this particular shop.
Left: an Osaka shop with metalworkers crafting furniture fittings. Right: Edo Period, 60”x 13-1/2”, Japan Folk Arts Museum, Tokyo.
The kanban on the right is for a hardware shop. The calligraphy on the kanban reads “assorted metal work for furniture” and “metal work for buildings.” The samples in the drawing and on the kanban are pretty much unchanged and in use today.
Left: Bucket kanban, Meiji Period, 15”x 17”, Kenichi Higasa Collection, Kobe. Right: detail from “Ryakuga shokunin zukushi”, 1826, British Museum.
The bucket shop kanban has a visual (and somewhat twisted) pun. The characters on the two bottom buckets combine to form “taifu,” meaning “high wind” (also hurricane or gale). The symbol on the top bucket is “masu,” a standard measure, whereas the the character for masu means “increase.” Fires were a constant threat in cities and towns where the vast majority of buildings were made of wood, and “high winds” drove the spread of fire. Buckets were used to throw water on fires and with each fire the bucket merchant saw a “increase” in his prosperity.
The tradition of kanban continues in Japan. Many shops have hanging signs using traditional shapes and have the ground-level kanban welcoming customers.
The kanban on the left was used by a well-established stationary store, is made of wood and from the early-20th century (Collection of Mingei International Museum). The shape is an Edo-Period accounting book, the same kanban used in the Edo and Meiji Periods. On the right is the sign used by Itoya, a stationary store in the Ginza, Toyko. That big red paper clip lead me to eight floors of paper heaven.
The gallery includes an Edo-Period example of product placement (not a recent annoying invention).
Bonus Content
My plan was to post these images at a later date, but what the hell, enjoy them now.
Meiji Period, by Utagawa Yoshimori (1830-1884). From thebGeorge S. Bonn Collection at Keio University, Tokyo.
I came across this tool print while researching kanban and sent it to Wilbur Pan, Japanese tool maven and all-around nice guy. He posted it on his Giant Cypress blog this past Sunday night so yes, you are seeing double.
You can read about Japanese coopering and tools in a post from a few years ago here.
The next five images are from a scroll painted by Kuwagata Keisai (1764-1824) in the collection of the Tokyo National Museum. The scroll measures about 37′ long and 14″ wide and is known as a “shokunin zukushi-e,” a series depicting craftsmen at work, or all the professions. Portions of the scroll can be found all over the internet and in a wide variety of resolutions and color schemes. The scroll is available in high resolution on the museum website and you can find it here.
I clipped out the sections showing woodworkers and a blade maker and you can see those five scenes below.
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.
An Update
Drew Langsner, elder statesman of traditional woodworking, sent along this photo of a shelter at the pond on Drew’s property. Most of the carpentry was done by Carl Swensson and, with the help of a Japanese friend, “Shoji Shack” was written on a kanban for the shack. Osamu Shoji loved seeing it when he was at Drew’s to teach a class.
We have just sent our latest book, “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now” by Drew Langsner, to the printer and have opened pre-publication ordering. If you order the book before it arrives in the warehouse in early November, you will receive a free pdf of the book at checkout. The book is $39 and a whopping 404 pages.
Here’s a little bit of information about this new green woodworking title.
In 1978, Drew Langsner released his book “Country Woodcraft” to the world, and it sparked a movement – still expanding today – of hand-tool woodworkers who make things with mostly green wood.
The 304 pages of “Country Woodcraft” showed you how to split wood from the forest and shape into anything you might need, from a spoon to a bowl, from a hayrake fork to a milking stool, a pine whisk to a dining table.
After more than 40 years, Drew has revisited this long-out-of-print and important book to revise and expand it to encompass what he has learned since “Country Woodcraft” was first released.
The result is “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now,” which has been expanded by 100 pages and has been updated throughout to reflect what Drew has learned since 1978. Among many other additions, it includes greatly expanded sections on building shavehorses, carving spoons and making green-wood bowls.
The original book’s text is intact, and the old photos are in black and white. Throughout the book, Drew has added text, which we set in a slightly different font, to explain what he does differently now after 40 years of daily work on the North Carolina farm he shares with his wife, Louise.
In many ways, the book is a delightful conversation between the younger Drew, who is happy to chop down trees with a felling axe, and the older Drew, who now uses an electric chainsaw and band saw to break down stock to conserve energy (and likely aspirin). New illustrations and color photos throughout show how Drew works now.
The most significant additions to the book include:
A detailed section on how to make your own sloyd knife from a piece of steel and block of wood – everything you need to know about shaping and heat-treating the steel. Plus how to fashion and attach the handle.
An extensive discussion of the different forms of shaving horses – the core workholding tool for this sort of work – and complete plans for the shaving horse that Drew prefers, the Z-Mule.
An enormous section on spoon carving, which is almost long enough to be a book in and of itself. Drew shows beginners how to make their first spoon and delves into more advanced techniques, including steam-bending blanks with Curtis Buchanan.
An almost-as-large section on carving bowls, which features many examples for inspiration.
A large chapter on the workbenches that are ideal for country woodcraft, including plans for the design that Drew prefers: a simple strong table with a laminated plywood benchtop.
What is also fascinating about “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now” is how much Drew has absorbed and adapted from the instructors at his Country Workshops school (which he retired from). You can feel the influence and interplay between woodworking greats such as Jennie Alexander, John Brown, Dave Fisher, Wille Sundqvist, Jogge Sunqvist and on and on.
If you are interested in getting started in green woodworking, “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now” is an ideal place to begin. If you have already gotten started in spoon carving, this book can take you into areas of the craft that are surprising, delightful and useful (check out the pine wisks).
About the Physical Book
“Country Woodcraft: Then & Now” is 404 pages, printed on #80 matte coated paper for superior image reproduction. The pages are sewn and taped for durability. The whole thing is wrapped by thick boards covered with cotton cloth. This is a permanent book. Like all Lost Art Press books, “Country Woodcraft: Then & Now” is produced entirely in the United States.
One unusual aspect of the book is its shape. The pages are 10.5” wide and 8.5” tall, and the book is bound on the short side of the page, what some people call landscape binding. This unusual binding was what was used on the original 1978 edition and we wanted to use that same binding in the modern edition.
This unusual binding, plus the large number of pages and upgraded paper (the original was printed on thin, uncoated paper) made this an expensive object to manufacture. However, Drew and Lost Art Press decided we wanted this book to have an accessible price for beginners and students. So we set the price at $39 and have agreed to take a smaller profit.
In the coming days we’ll release a free pdf excerpt of the book. We don’t know which of our retailers will carry this book (we hope all of them). So please check with your favorite retailer.
Table of Contents
Safety First! Understanding Then and Now Forward – Then Forward – Now Acknowledgments Introduction – Then Introduction – Now
Part I: THE FOUNDATION OF COUNTRY WOODCRAFT 1. The Basic Tools 2. Materials 3. Felling 4. The Woodshed 5. Sawbucks
Part II: THE WORKSHOP 6. Shaving Horses 7. Clubs, Mauls and Mallets 8. Frame Saws 9. Tool Handles 10. Wedges 11. Workbenches 12. A Spring-Pole Lathe
Part III: AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS 13. Hay Rakes 14. Hay Forks 15. Wheelbarrows 16. Swiss Milking Stool 17. A Shoulder Yoke 18. Land Sleds 19. Bull-Tongue Plow 20. Spike-Tooth A-Harrow 21. Field Drags 22. Pokes
Part IV: HOUSEHOLD CRAFTS AND FURNISHINGS 23. Brooms 24. Bark Boxes – Louise Langsner 25. White Oak Basketry – Louise Langsner 26. Spreaders, Spoons and Ladles 27. Half-Log Bowls 28. Trestle Tables 29. A Handy Bench 30. Pine Whisks
Appendix 1. Mortise-and-Tenon Joinery Appendix 2. Oil Finishes Appendix 3. Riving Thirds Appendix 4. Axe Primer Appendix 5. Stumps with Legs Appendix 6. Uses of Usually Useless Wood Appendix 7. Annotated Bibliography Appendix 8. What I’m Doing Now
After four years of honest labor, I am happy to announce you can place a pre-publication order for our newest book: “Honest Labour: The Charles H. Hayward Years, 1936-1966.” This massive book (474 pages) compiles Hayward’s best columns about the craft during his tenure as editor of The Woodworker magazine in the United Kingdom.
The book is $34 and can be ordered here from our store.
Hayward’s columns cover an enormous swath of woodworking philosophy, from discussions of our insecurities about our skills to the regenerative power of time at the bench. Hayward writes from a unique perspective: He was a traditionally trained woodworker, World War I veteran, professional woodworker, draughtsman, photographer, writer and editor. He steered The Woodworker through World War II (without missing an issue) and was a comforting voice for woodworkers through the most tumultuous portion of the 20th century.
We’ve taken his best columns during the 30 years he was the editor and reprinted them in “Honest Labour” for you to enjoy and think about. Each column occupies a single spread in the book – just open the book to any page and you will find a complete column. And each is illustrated with drawings from that particular year of The Woodworker – many of the drawings from Hayward’s own hand.
“Honest Labour” is the fifth and final book in The Woodworker series, which was a multi-year, multinational project to preserve the hand tool knowledge that almost disappeared in the 20th century. “Honest Labour” is the same trim size as the other Woodworker books in the series, printed on the same paper and features the same tough binding. The only difference is the cotton cover cloth. We chose a deep scarlet instead of the green to differentiate this volume from the others.
The book is currently at the printer and should ship in early May 2020. We hope our retailers will carry this book, though we have no control (obviously) over their stock choices.
In the coming weeks we’ll publish an excerpt for those of you who are on the fence or unsure this book is worth your time and effort.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. I know we have been releasing a slew of stuff this week – pinch rods, linocut prints from “Good Work” and now this book. It was completely unplanned and is what happens when you run a publishing company with the “it’s done when it’s done philosophy.” Sometimes that means you have nothing. Sometimes it means you have too much.