Lost Art Press

A Correction to ‘Chairmaker’s Notebook’

Posted on by Lost Art Press

cn_cover_webThis week we are sending “Chairmaker’s Notebook” by Peter Galbert out for a second printing.

Most of the changes made for the second printing are technical in nature – we adjusted the histogram of several of Peter’s hand-drawn images to darken them.

But there is one significant correction to the content of the book, so I would like to post that here for everyone to download for free.

In Chapter 3, Peter presents two pages of plans for the two chairs he built for the book. Because of a scanning error on my part (not Peter’s), the enlargement percentage shown on the pages of the first printing is incorrect. It should be 545 percent (not 540 percent).

Additionally, the drawings for the underside of the seat and the bending form for the balloon-back were slightly off the correct scale.

I spent the morning trying to figure out how I made this error. My conclusion: I screwed up something while scanning the original drawings.

You can download a pdf of the corrected version of those two pages here:

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My apologies for the error.

— Christopher Schwarz

For Your Bookshelf: Peasant Art in Sweden, Lapland and Iceland

Posted on by saucyindexer


Do you need a dose of handmade and hand-decorated? Try “Peasant Art in Sweden, Lapland and Iceland” edited by Charles Holme and published in 1910.

This gorgeous little book includes sections on textiles, metalwork, horn carving and a large section on furniture and wood carvings. From batlets to weaving implements you will find plenty of ideas for your next project or your next litre of beer.

Of course there are carved spoons:

And carved headboards for your bed:

Sprinkled here and there are wonderful pieces like this stool. The carver saw the branches of a tree and it inspired a stool made into the shape of a faithful companion.

Used copies of the book are available or you can read a digital copy here.

-Suzanne Ellison

There’s Always a Joey to Give you Trouble

Posted on by Lost Art Press

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Whenever possible, I try to build projects in pairs. Building two pieces doesn’t take twice as long as building one project – it seems to add only about 25 percent to the hours I log in the shop.

By building two pieces at once, I end up with a second one I can also sell. And if something goes totally south during the construction process, I still end up with one finished piece and a bunch of extra parts or firewood.

The funny thing about working on projects in pairs is there is usually one of the two projects that fights me the whole way.

This week I’m finishing two chairs for a client. But I’m beginning to think I should have made three. One of these chairs, we’ll call him Joey, has resisted my every effort to make him a chair. When I assembled his undercarriage, one of his legs busted out a huge chip on the seat when I drove it home.

His armbow split twice during the bending process, even though the oak for both was all from the same dang tree.

While assembling the spindles and arm bow I had to use a 3 lb. sledgehammer to knock Joey’s armbow into the correct orientation.

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And when I began bending his crest rail, it split. Twice.

So right now Joey is in “time out” on the bench while I hack up a new log of fresh pin oak for his crest rail. The other chair – its twin – has been waiting for paint for three days now.

— Christopher Schwarz

Fathers & Sons

Posted on by Lost Art Press

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Recently I was corresponding with Narayan Nayar, my friend and collaborator on “Virtuoso,” about my crossing paths with an old family friend of his at a local chapter meeting of the Mid-west Tool Collectors Association, and what a small world it was sometimes. Narayan related, “I think I told you this story, but my dad – a guy with a formidable reputation himself – was traveling in Florence, Italy, last year or the year before and someone in his travel group approached him and asked him, ‘Are you related to the photographer of the Studley Tool Chest?’” That exchange confirmed for Mr. Nayar the path his son had chosen, and I can only imagine the swell of pride he had in knowing Narayan’s impressive successes.

That vignette brought to mind the tale of Lu-ban, the totemic figure in Chinese woodworking mythology. According to the tale recounted in a children’s book I have somewhere in my inventory, Lu-ban was a son of a farmer and the father was displeased when Lu-ban chose the path of becoming a temple carpenter rather than continuing in the tradition of working on the family farm. With a heavy heart his father bid farewell to Lu-ban, wondering if he would ever see his son again given that all the great temples were being built in faraway places. Decades passed with no word from Lu-ban, then one day a box arrived at the father’s farm house. The box was simple but exquisitely made, and inside the box was a single wide wood shaving, nearly transparent and many meters long. It was a simple message from Lu-ban saying, “Yes, Father, I am a success.”

I never recall that story without getting a lump in my throat.

— Don Williams, donsbarn.com

How Mary Made her Mark

Posted on by Lost Art Press

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Editor’s note: One of the delights in editing Mary May’s upcoming book on carving acanthus leaves is that she poured so much of herself into it. Not just in the instruction offered in the book – but also her biography. While you learn how to carve the many variants on the classic acanthus, you also follow Mary as she ventures all over the world in her efforts to carve, carve and carve. Here’s one of the short tales that I particularly enjoyed.

We’re working hard on getting this book edited so that it will be out by summer. Stay tuned.

— Christopher Schwarz

My first experience with woodcarving occurred when I was 6. I had just made the big move from kindergarten to first grade and we were all excited to have learned a new skill. With a big yellow pencil and some lined paper, our task was to neatly print our names in capital letters. Fortunately, my name is mostly straight lines, so writing M-A-R-Y came easily. Proud of my new skill, I practiced this new art form wherever I could.

As it happened, there was a lovely, nine-drawer antique pine dresser in my bedroom. It seemed obvious that the smooth surfaces of the wooden drawers were a perfect canvas to show off my penmanship, but the lines from the big yellow pencil did not show up well. I borrowed one of my dad’s screwdrivers and proceeded to carefully etch my name on the surface of each and every drawer. I was able to scratch the soft pine deeply without much effort, and while I was proud of my new masterpiece, I was already looking for more places to share my art.

However, it soon dawned on me that not everyone would appreciate my creativity. I loved it, but would they? My inventive (and manipulative) young mind started figuring a way to keep myself squeaky clean. In a moment of sneaky inspiration, I realized that my brother’s name “MARK” might provide the perfect cover. I thought, “I’ll just draw an extra line on the Y and make it look like a K.” I was sure everyone would think that Mark did it! So I altered the Y on every drawer with an extra, diagonal scratch to complete the transformation. I was so impressed with my cleverness that it was a real shock when my parents immediately blamed me! How did they know?

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The wise punishment from my parents was to make me use that dresser all the way through high school, facing my “Mark” every single day. My love for carving only increased from that young age, as has my respect for parents who recognize the passions of their child and help foster it into their grown life’s work.

— Mary May, Mary May’s School of Traditional Woodcarving