I don’t know why my brain refused to acknowledge the two frame saws in my chest while I was writing part 2 of this series. So here’s part 2-1/2 of the series on my coping saw and fretsaw.
Ah, now I remember why my brain froze, I didn’t want to revisit the topic of coping saws. I’ve still not found one that satisfies me on all fronts. I’ve tried, cheap, expensive, vintage, yellow and rare. All have some aspect that I don’t like.
So I’ve given up and reverted to the German-made Olson coping saw I bought in 1996 or 1997. It’s been modified significantly, especially the blade-tensioning mechanism, and I’ve stretched the frame. And you can’t buy this saw new anymore. The Olson saw is now made overseas and I’m not a fan of what’s happened to it.
What I can recommend, however, are the blades for whatever coping saw you do end up settling for. I have been very happy with the Pegas coping saw blades, which are made in Switzerland and cut like a dream. And they are tough; I’ve had individual blades last for more than six months.
For fretsaws, I also went full-German. I’ve had an old German jeweler’s saw since the 1990s that tensions blades to a remarkable level. Why? Because I filed grooves into the pads of the blade-clamping mechanism. That improved its grip to “Coach Stan Turnipseed’s Handshake” level on the EU’s fretsaw clamping matrix.
You can find these jeweler’s saws on ebay for $10 to $20. The old ones are better than the new ones. Be sure to get some Pegas blades for these as well.
Back in April of this year, my friend Chris Schwarz wrote a post about a staked table he built. I’ll confess – my first reaction to the photo was “WTF?” – but there was something about the table’s aesthetics that intrigued me and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was as if the photo of the table begged me to stare at it longer, goading my brain to make sense of it. I should have responded with an anyeurism emoji.
I know from personal experience with some of the staked pieces in The Anarchist’s Design Book (and other similar forms) that photographs don’t express the (potential) spatial elegance of these forms very well, so I was willing to look past the picture. And as I did (I studied that photo three or four times the day I received it), the more I wanted to “riff” on Chris’ table. So I started sketching.
It became clear that I had to build the thing I kind of-sort of had in my head in order to move on with life. But even after sketching, it was more of a conceptual puzzle that needed working out rather than a design. Whatever it ended up being, it apparently had the following criteria:
Three legs. I thought four would resolve “too well” or too easily.
Round. I wanted something to place next to my “big chair” which has a Scandinavian aesthetic that lends itself to curves. Also I thought that the roundness would help alleviate some of the M. C. Escher problems that occur when your brain has corners against which it can “register” what it’s perceiving.
Funky geometry – square or round, everyone knows what an end table with equally ordered legs looks like. I wanted the legs to look like they were wrapping around a column that wasn’t there.
I would normally spend a few hours in Sketchup trying to work this out into something that would then come together in the shop. But I’ve spent the last year doing home improvement projects in plywood, particleboard and veneer and wanted to get to work immediately. So after taking some measurements of the chair mentioned above, I decided to make good on my commitment to clear out my lumber rack and go straight to prototyping, knowing that the best outcome would be a failure to learn from (followed by a funeral pyre for the prototype).
As suggested in The Anarchist’s Design Book, I first made a quick model by turning a small disc and using coat hanger segments to play with angles. My goal was to get a very rough idea of the issues at play, not to faithfully represent the piece (because I had no real clue on where it was going yet). The model proved to me that the concept wasn’t completely bonkers, but also that it needed more careful consideration than banging a bunch of sticks into the bottom of a circle and calling it a day. It was clear that much of the overall design would be “derived” from a number of elements:
The radius between each leg and the center of the tabletop (I’ll call this the leg radius)
The angle between the legs and the bottom of the tabletop (I’ll call this the splay)
The angle of the legs from the center (I’ll call this the rotational angle)
The length of the legs, which would determine the proportional distance at which the legs would appear to intersect (I’ll call this the fleemkoopen stropfheimer)
Though I love incorporating curves into the things I build, I don’t work on round furniture very often, so while many of these design considerations are also present in rectangular furniture, it took my brain some time to reorient itself to working on radii off a circle’s center rather than more Cartesianally-oriented distances from edges.
I had 11” wide stock in the lumber rack so the table was going to be some multiple of that–I decided 22″. I decided to work first on a small square piece of 8/4 poplar. This would allow me several attempts at finding a good set of angles for the mortises and experiment with different ways of marking them out and drilling them. My plan was to drill the mortises and use dowels to evaluate the angles–basically a larger version of the disc-and-coat hanger model.
I failed over and over, each failure more exciting than the last. Some failures were cognitive failures (e.g. forgetting which layout line was the rotational angle) and some were construction failures (sloppy brace-and-bit handling). But after a few attempts on a couple of boards I landed at something that was close enough from a design perspective. I had also streamlined techniques for markup and drilling with a brace and auger bit.
In the end, on an 11“ square piece of poplar, I landed on:
A leg radius of 3–7/8”
A splay of 124° or 56° depending on which way you splay. (I think in conventional terms this would be 34°, measured as the acute angle between the leg and a line perpendicular to the bottom of the tabletop, but my brain won’t accept that. In this case, I want to capture the angle to which I set my bevel gauge and to also reflect that the legs point into the table, not out)
A rotational angle of 17°
A fleemkoopen stropfheimer of 18–19“ for a total table height of 21–22”
Knowing that it was going to be way easier to work on an 11“ square piece than a large round piece, I drilled the holes with a brace and auger bit (leaving the tapered mortise for later), laminated the block to the bottom of a 22” wide, 8/4 poplar panel. I marked and cut out a rough circle, affixed a face plate and went to the lathe. While at the lathe I realized that the curve I was shooting for needed more wood than I had laminated onto the bottom of the tabletop, so I made some design compromises. Turning the top was otherwise pretty straightforward (and lots of fun!), though by the time it was all said and done I would end up taking the tabletop back to the lathe three times to refine the shape.
As for the legs, I wanted something round-ish. I’ve had an 8′ long piece of oak stair rail sitting on my back porch for over a year, and by using my Jedi powers to check off the “mount new stair rail” item in my household to do list (i.e. I convinced myself I didn’t want a new stair rail), I decided to use that for prototyping.
It was convenient in that it was mostly round and made from wood, but was a piece of crap in all other respects (namely that it was laminated in both thickness and in length). But it got used and is no longer sitting on my back porch. In any case, I started with a pretty chunky ovular design by using offset turning, but unhappy with that I put them back on the lathe and turned them to be more svelte. I then planed two sides into each leg and did some rough shaping with some spokeshaves to get them to communicate “not round, not flat”, which is what I was going for.
I dry-fit the legs into the table and decided that the crappy grain from the stair rail was drawing too much attention to the legs, making it hard to evaluate the overall form. So I charred them and that helped immensely, as did reducing the contrast of the top by giving it a quick coat of stain.
After staining the top and leveling the legs, I called this first prototype done. I almost tossed it right after inserting the legs, but I’m glad I took it through a rough “coloring” process because that changed my impression of the piece significantly.
It’s very much built as a prototype–I concentrated on stuff that I wanted to resolve in the design rather than fit-and-finish or engineering. I will probably give this to a friend or burn it, but I’ll keep it around a bit and ponder my next moves.
I’ll leave my more specific opinions on the piece itself this out of this post except to say that as a prototype, it was successful. It came together quickly (maybe 5–6 hours actual build time across a few days) and allowed me to experiment and refine both form and process. Most importantly: through the process of repeatedly failing, it’s very clear to me what I want to change as I go forward.
Though my days of teaching woodworking might be over, the process has left its mark on the tools I use. During the last 10 years, I made changes to my tool set to make it less intimidating to my students.
I gave my Eccentric Toolworks saws to a friend. I mothballed my Seaton saws from Mike Wenzloff. They were all fantastic tools that were made by people who I am proud to support. But they are unobtainable today. And I don’t want students to think there is anything magic about tools. The magic is in your fingers.
So here are the tools I use now. Only one is exotic. So let’s get that one out of the way immediately.
My tenon saw is a Wenzloff & Sons tool that was copied from the Benjamin Seaton tool chest. This saw was one of the first saws that Mike Wenzloff ever made – before he really decided to become a full-time sawmaker. It’s unsigned. It’s handle is polished and worn to fit my hands. I can no sooner get rid of this saw than sell a child. It’s sharpened rip at 10 ppi with just a bit of fleam.
My carcase saw is a vintage Wheeler, Madden & Clemson that I’ve owned forever. It’s sharpened crosscut at 14 ppi.
My dovetail saw is a Lie-Nielsen with an apple handle. Thomas Lie-Nielsen got his hands on a few chunks of apple and made this handle for me in exchange for a piece of furniture. While there are lots of good dovetail saws out there, it’s hard to beat the Lie-Nielsen. When I started woodworking they were made by Independence Tools (run by Pete Taran and Patrick Leach) and seemed exorbitantly priced at $125. Now the $125 seems the best bargain out there in saws (and I can’t believe it’s still $125).
The flush-cut saw in my chest is the Veritas one with the black plastic handle. I used to have the Veritas one with the bubinga handle, but after kinking its blade I went to order a new one and Lee Valley was out of stock of the bubinga saw. Hence the plastic one.
The saws I use for breaking down stock are vintage panel saws that Matt Cianci restored. I have a Disston panel saw that is sharpened crosscut at 8 ppi and a Spear & Jackson panel saw that is sharpened rip at 7 ppi.
And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my Stanley Sharptooth saw that I use for breaking down rough stock. It lives in my truck, not my tool chest, but has been an important part of every project during the last five years. I want to hate the $10, plastic-handled (but made in the USA) thing. But that would be disingenuous.
Speaking of saws that don’t live in the chest, I have a vintage Langdon miter box below my bench that I use for precision crosscuts and miters. The original sawblade was trashed, so I replaced it with a Lie-Nielsen miter box saw.
A lot of people ask me about the Veritas saws with composite spines and wooden handles. Why don’t I use those? They are excellent saws. I’ve used many of them that were owned by students and I regularly recommend them to beginners. When I assembled my kit of tools, Veritas didn’t make joinery saws. If Veritas had made joinery saws back in 1999 I’m sure would have stocked my chest with those.
Next up: marking and measuring tools.
— Christopher Schwarz
Part 1 of this series on handplanes can be found here.
Pony Tools, which has made clamps in the United States since its founding in 1903, closed its doors earlier this month in an announcement that surprised woodworkers and other toolmakers.
However, the Easy Wood Tools subsidiary that Pony purchased last year, is continuing to operate and fill orders, according to company officials.
Details about the closure are scarce. The phone number for Pony’s public relations officer is no longer functioning and calls to the Chicago headquarters have been unanswered.
However Douglas Holman, the chairman and owner of Pony (and great-great grandson of the founder), issued a statement about the closing through Easy Wood’s social media:
“I am writing to inform you that on May 19, 2016, Adjustable Clamp Company d/b/a Pony Tools Inc. informed its Chicago employees that it was suspending operations in Chicago effective immediately. While this step was necessary due to issues unique to the Chicago business, the Company’s Easy Wood Tools division remains open and continues to operate its business. It is our hope that there will be minimal, if any, disruption to the business of Easy Wood Tools. This suspension of operations in Chicago has not affected our ability to fill Easy Wood Tools orders.
“The company is looking at all options in order to enable Easy Wood Tools to continue to operate. We are hopeful that you will continue to support Easy Wood Tools during this transition and we appreciate your past support. We will put forth our best efforts to keep you updated as more information becomes available.”
Pony’s orange clamps and wooden handscrews have been ubiquitous sights in woodworking shops all over the world.
While it seems Holman’s statement leaves the door open for the company to resume operations, perhaps under new ownership, you might want to stock up on orange clamps nonetheless.
Memorial Day weekend is a good time to remember the fallen, get some woodworking done and check out the Lost Art Press forum. Remember, if you have a question about our products, procedures in our books or anything related to Lost Art Press, the fastest way to get an answer is our forum. Check it out here.
Trestle Desk
It’s interesting to see how one reader took the trestle table from “The Anarchist’s Design Book” and improved it with dovetail-shaped battens underneath. (Shown at top and below.) Very clever. And very nice work.
Keeping Waterstones Flat
Interesting discussion of the DiaFlat diamond stone. Does it make stones flat? Does it last?
Help Identifying a Chair Drawing by John Muir
A very mysterious drawing of a a device attached to a chair. The drawing is attributed to John Muir, the famous naturalist. We think it’s a jig for locating the front stretcher. But we could be wrong. Solve the mystery if you can.
Hollows and Rounds
Dan is making a partial set of hollows and rounds to reproduce some moldings in his older home but has some questions about the measurements. Want to weigh in?
What to Put on Cast Iron Tops What do you use on your table saw to protect it from rust and provide lubrication? WD40? Paste wax? Bowling alley wax? All have been suggested. Put in your 2 cents.