If you are on the fence about ordering Peter Galbert’s “Chairmaker’s Notebook,” here is a nice sample of the book: Chapter 19 on carving the seat of a Windsor chair.
As Peter points out in the book, one of the coolest and somewhat mysterious parts of building a Windsor is carving the seat. The tools and processes seem foreign – it’s almost like sculpture.
As you’ll see in this chapter, it is a straightforward process with discrete steps. And it’s something you can wrap your head around thanks to the Peter’s drawings and the details.
You can download a pdf of the chapter using the following link. You don’t have to “register” or do anything silly. Just click the link and the chapter will begin downloading to your computer.
“Chairmaker’s Notebook” is available in the Lost Art Press store in both digital and hardcover formats. Domestic customers receive free shipping if they order before March 20, 2015, which is the day the book will ship from the printer.
Also, the following retailers have indicated they will stock “Chairmaker’s Notebook:” Lee Valley Tools, Tools for Working Wood, Highland Woodworking, Henry Eckert Fine Tools in Australia and Classic Hand Tools in the UK. Links to our retailers can be found here.
It’s easy to think that there aren’t any secrets left in woodworking. But I don’t think that’s true.
While a lot of the basic hand and machine skills are widely discussed and disseminated (thank you, Internet), a good deal of specialized and advanced knowledge is still frustratingly obscured. Here’s one small example.
When I was a junior editor at Popular Woodworking Magazine I was assigned to work with a prominent furniture-maker to help him develop his article ideas and get them into print. Standard stuff. I won’t use his name because I was raised right.
During a visit to his shop I noticed he had a lot of complex moulders and hollows and rounds planes. At that time, there were maybe four articles written about these planes that I could find. I was personally desperate to learn more, so I assumed that our readers would be as well.
The guy refused to write an article or even demonstrate how to use the tools.
“That,” he said, “is what makes my furniture special. I’m not going to show others how to do it.”
I think there’s a 50/50 chance that the guy actually had no idea how to use the planes and was embarrassed that he had them up on the wall. And if that was the case, then I totally forgive him for being human.
But if he really did know how to use them, then he’s no friend to the craft.
Most woodworking (even the complex stuff) is pretty simple once someone shows you the tricks that break the process down into logical and predictable steps. So I bristle when someone throws up a stone wall. That usually means the process really is exceedingly simple.
My search for an author who could explain hollows and rounds didn’t end that day. It ended several years later when I met Matt Bickford at a woodworking show. At the time he was thinking about becoming a full-time planemaker. He showed me two tricks at his pink-painted workbench that day, and I knew I had found the answer.
My years-long search eventually ended in us publishing “Mouldings in Practice” by Matt. It is one of our books I am most proud of because it is the first real text on making mouldings by hand. It makes the process incredibly simple. And it flips the bird to that furniture-maker I encountered many years ago.
Bottom line: If you know something, say something.
While researching some crazy bit of something, I stumbled on this description and drawing of Silcock and Lowe’s Patent Planes from the 1844 edition of Mechanics’ Magazine in England.
I read it. Then I read it again. Indeed. They are describing a laminated plane with an adjustable mouth. You adjust the mouth by loosening some screws and moving the rear part of the plane’s body, which rides in grooves in the sidewalls.
I can’t think of another reference to this sort of laminated bench plane that is this early. Check it out.
— Christopher Schwarz
The fourth instrument is a trying plane, suitable for both rough and fine work, and constructed in manner following:—
“Figure 17 is a side elevation of this plane, and figure 18 an end view. Instead of being formed of one piece of wood, as usual, it is composed of four or more separate pieces peculiarly combined together. The part A, which forms the centre, or heart of the plane (lengthwise), is made out of a piece of beech with the grain of the wood running crosswise, as usual. The proper place for the bed and mouth of the plane having been determined, these are cut out, and the two pieces into which the piece of wood is thus separated, are connected together by two side pieces, B B, also of beech, or of any other suitable sort of wood, placed with the fibre running longitudinally and tennoned to the central part A, by means of the tongues and grooves, a b. The tongues and grooves should fit closely the one into the other, particularly at top and bottom. The side pieces, B B, are attached permanently to the forepart of A, either by means of screws, as represented in the engravings, or by glueing, or by both screws and glue. At the back part the sides are secured by screws, c c, to the inside piece A in such manner that they may be shifted occasionally. W W, are two oblong metal washers, with oblong slots, w to, in them, which are let into the side pieces, B B, to such a depth, that when the screws, c e, are passed through the slots into the wood, their heads shall be below the surface of the wood. As the sole of the plane becomes worn down by use, and the mouth becomes consequently wider, by slackening or undoing the screws, the back part of the body A can be pushed forward and readjusted, so as to keep the mouth of the plane always of the best working width. The plane iron and its cover are united to each other by means of a nut and screw D, the nut being inserted in a bevelled-sided slot, so as to be nearly flush with the back of the iron; and thus united they are secured to the body of the plane by means of a screw, E (instead of by wedges, as usual), which is passed through the irons into a metal seat F, let into the back part of the centre piece A. C is the handle, which is made like the other handles before described with the grain of the wood at right angles to the length of the plane, and let into and secured in the wood in the manner represented by the dotted lines in figure 17. At the front it is cut away, so as to leave a shoulder, d, which rests upon the top of the centre piece A, and at the back there is a sufficient space left to allow of the insertion of a wedge e, by driving in which, the handle is firmly secured in its place.
My shop time is erratic. Sometimes I’m in the shop for 40 hours a week. Sometimes I get about four. So it’s hard for me to plan for hot hide glue. Sometimes assembly time comes much faster than I anticipated. Sometimes it’s weeks later than I planned.
So I use a lot of liquid hide glue, which doesn’t rely on overnight soaking or planning for how much I need for the coming day.
Recently Joshua Klein published a super-simple recipe for making your own liquid hide glue from glue granules, tap water and canning salt. It is so simple, that I am definitely going to make some myself, just as soon as I get home from this trip (one of the other reasons that using hot hide glue is tough).
Check out the great post here – and it has a printable recipe card you can tack to your shop wall.
Sometime right after being hired by Popular Woodworking magazine in 1996 I saw my first Welsh stick chair in the British magazine Good Woodworking. I can remember the exact article. Heck, I own the article. It showed John Brown standing next to one of his chairs.
I was hooked, and there was nothing that could be done about it except to start building chairs.
Most things I write about are boxes and other carcase work, and I love that stuff to death. It’s my bread, butter and occasionally jam; it puts food on our table. But I tell other people that chairmaking is my hobby. I don’t talk much about my chairs on the blog. I don’t show my work to others unless they press me, and that’s because it really sucks. Really and truly sucks eggs through the tailpipe of a 1971 El Camino.
But I work at it all the time. I’ve taken more classes in chairmaking than in any other topic. I read everything I can find on the topic. And here’s why.
While I still stink as a chairmaker, it makes me a better woodworker.
Chairmaking introduced me to the lathe. To the drawknife. To a comprehension and mastery of compound angles. To steam-bending. To radical curves. To green wood. I could go one for maybe 20 more sentences like this, but you’d get bored until I mentioned the word “nipples.”
I think… no, more than that… I actually feel that chairmaking is a good thing for all woodworkers to try. It will open your eyes to parts of the craft that you thought were difficult but actually are ridiculously easy once you know the tricks and learn them from someone who truly knows his or her stuff.
And that’s why “Chairmaker’s Notebook” should be on your shelf. It’s disguised as a chairmaking book, but it’s actually a book about all the stuff in the craft that you probably have been ignoring or have been afraid to try. Yes, there is green woodworking in there. Yes, there are unfamiliar tools and ways of working that seem foreign.
But Peter Galbert has a way of explaining things that makes you say: “Duh. I get it now. Why did I think that operation was difficult.” For the last three years I have been working with Pete to bring “Chairmaker’s Notebook” to print. Editing the book was difficult at times because I was learning so much at the same time I was trying to refine the way it was being explained in print. Like trying to edit a speech by Dr. Martin Luther King.
So this book is a personal victory for me. It is the chairmaking book that I wish I’d had in 1996 when I saw that John Brown chair. I’m almost 20 years older now, but I’m thrilled that I finally have this book – both for me as well as you.
— Christopher Schwarz\
“Chairmaker’s Notebook,” written and illustrated by Peter Galbert, is available in the Lost Art Press Store with free domestic shipping until March 20, 2015 – the day the book ships from the printer.
