Saw, sawset, handplanes, square, sumitsubo and sumisashi by Kawahara Keigo, Museum Volkenkunde, Leiden, Netherlands.
We start our matsuri, or festival, with work commissioned by Philip Franz von Siebold, German physician and botantist. In 1823, under the auspices of the Dutch East Indies Company he was posted to Dejima, an artificial island and trading post off the coast of Nagasaki. For over 200 years, first for the Portuguese and later for the Dutch, Dejima was the conduit for trade with Japan during the isolationist Edo period (1600-1869).
Siebold collected a vast number of plants that were later taken to Leiden. He taught western medical practices and he, along with others, documented Japanese flora, fauna, customs and culture. Siebold quickly began the multi-volume “Archiv zur Beschreibung Nippons” (Archive for Describing Japan). The archive included this illustration of tools:
Siebold was allowed to hire artist Kawahara Keiga (1786-1860?) to further their documentation efforts. Kawahara was taught western painting techniques by Carl Hubert de Villeneuve. He painted harbor scenes, plants, animals and all manner of things. His artwork included the hand tools used by Japanese craftsmen.
Kawahara painted on paper, wood and silk. An archive of his work is held by the Netherlands National Museum of Ethnology (Museum Volkenkunde Leiden). Below is a gallery of Japanese hand tools painted on silk by Kawahara. At the end of the gallery are three illustrations by other artists, each of which has been used in previous blog posts (now they are all together!). After the gallery is a link to use if you would like to see several more paintings of tools, boats, sea life and more.
Kanban (shop sign) for a blade and toolmaker, late 19th century, Mingei International Museum, San Diego.
Cooper’s Tools, before 1872, National Archive of Estonia. Measurements are in fuß (fuss or foot).
The link will take you to a Search Page. If it comes up in Dutch you can select your alternate language at the top right of the page. In the Search Box enter Kawahara Keigo and press Search. Use the Green Arrows on the right to advance to Page 11. Kawahara’s work is found on Pages 11 to 51.
Kawahara’s cats! After all, this is the Lost Art Press and Cats blog.
Years ago I attended the Southern Highlands Craft Show in Asheville, North Carolina, and bought a goose carved by an older woman. She had two geese, but I could only afford one. The goose was in the charging position: head down and neck extended. It was the start of my appreciation for carved animals. Unfortunately, a couple years later the beak was chewed up by a long-haired black cat with a bum leg and an attitude (side note: this cat also enjoyed being vacuumed using the upholstery attachment). The damaged goose was packed away to limit further damage, and the cat with the bum leg moved with me seven times in three states, outlived two younger cats and died when she was 18. I did not acquire another wooden bird until well after she was gone.
Now, I have a small collection of wooden birds and will share some of them with you. I have also included some historical examples of practical items shaped like birds. We’ll start with a few from southeast Pennsylvania, a well-known region of talented folk artists.
A crow or raven. Carved by Dan Strawser in 1974, southeastern Pennsylvania. 9-1/2 inches long, 5-1/2 inches high.
Dan Strawser has been carving since the 1970s, and his wife, Donna,paints the birds. I’ve seen other birds by Strawser with wings carved in a similar manner. It looks as though the bird is seconds away from lifting off. Strawser did not sand the surface, allowing the surface carving to stand out and give the bird dimension. The bird and rounded base are painted a uniform black with only a small dot of white on each eye. Sometimes there is an urge to paint a base a contrasting color or pattern. For this bird I think a different color would detract from the overall image.
“Three little birds pitch by my door step…” Three small birds by Alvin G. Martin, 1989, Mennonite carver, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. 8 inches long, 5-1/4 inches high.
These may be house sparrows or song sparrows or some other birds entirely. Either way, I was attracted to the composition and the painting. Each branch with bird is one piece of wood with saw marks still visible. The body positions of the birds capture the quick movements of their real-life counterparts. Martin’s patterning and use of color on the birds and branches is nicely done, and the solid dark green base complements and anchors the composition.
One of the challenges in carving birds is what to do with the legs and feet. Alvin Martin painted the birds in a natural position with legs bent under the body and only the painted feet shown perching on the branches.
A bluebird by Ben Hoover, active in the 1970s and 1980s, Mennonite, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
This little bird hangs from a ceiling fan light pull in a room where my mother spends much of her time. Bluebirds are her favorite. As you can see, the paint work is wonderful. Bluebirds are frequent visitors to our yard. One spring I watched a male bluebird trying to show two perplexed youngsters how to take a bath.
As much as I value the work of the carvers of southeastern Pennsylvania, both their observations of the natural world and their creative efforts to craft birds and other animals, I also appreciate a different approach.
A swan made of two pieces of black walnut by Chicago-based artist and designer Peter Dunham. Approximately 6 inches wide, 5 inches high.
Peter Dunham has designed a variety of animals, with most comprised of two to four pieces. The appeal to me is stripping the figure of an animal to its defining elements, in this case, the long curving neck and the large and wide-flung wings.
Putting Birds to Work
Domesticated birds have often inspired craftspeople to make bird-shaped boxes for use in the home. There are many examples of this idea in the “Peasant Art” series of books by Charles Holmes.
An egg box in the shape of a goose from the Tyrol or Vorarlberg area of Austria from “Peasant Art in Austria and Hungary” by Charles Holme, et. al., published in 1911. Dimensions not given.
The top of the box (one piece or two?) flips open and it looks like there may be a catch mechanism at the base of the tail. A kitchen box to hold eggs is a utilitarian item. It can be a plain square box and does not need decoration. However, when the maker matches the design of the box to its use it becomes an object of joy. The curve of the bird’s neck, the detail given the eyes and beak and the meticulous chip carving add nothing to the quality of eggs stored within. But, for the woman or child that transfers the eggs from an old straw basket to this box it provides a moment of pleasure in the long day of work on a farm.
A duck-shaped box, New Kingdom (16th to 11th century BC), Egypt, British Museum. 6 inches long, 3-3/4 inches high. The head is attached, and the beak is broken.
The idea of a bird-shaped box has a long history and can be found in many cultures. This box was used for cosmetics. The wings, attached with pins near the neck, form the lid and are decorated with crosshatching. The wings, likely cut from one piece of wood, swing out to open the box.
Another example from ancient Egypt from the same time period and with similar measurements. British Museum.
Another New Kingdom cosmetics box with a missing lid allows a better view of the bowl-shaped body of the bird. As can be seen in the color photo and the line drawings, this duck box has a greater level of carved detail. Although they are not necessary for the function of the box, we find the duck’s feet! With the wings closed and sitting in one’s hand this would be a delightful little duck that just so happens to be a box.
Back, or forward, to the 20th century and one more practical item in the shape of a bird.
From “Peasant Art in Russia” by Charles Holme, et. al, published in 1912.
This egg dish, or bowl, is quite dashing with handles formed by a beak and a tail of almost equal size. The bird’s “crew cut” comb just adds to charm of this piece.
Back to My Birds
A small bird bowl by David Fisher.
This bird, by a carver in the exotic western portion of Pennsylvania, just sings. Dave has captured the dynamic moment before a bird launches itself into the air and takes off like a shot.
A partridge, maker unknown. 4-1/2 inches long, 3-1/2 inches high.
I don’t know who made this little bird or where it was made. Except for a portion of the head and neck it is covered in moon-shaped feathers. The head, back and wings are stained, adding dimension and life to the carving.
The wings are not perfectly centered on the body, but it takes nothing away from the piece. I find myself reaching for this bird almost every day. It is a little treasure.
One bird I do not attempt to pick up very often is the largest bird in my small collection, Rémy the Rooster.
Rémy the Rooster in front of one of my bookcases. Not his usual spot, but the only place to get a good photo of his magnificent entirety. 32 inches high, weighs about 10 lbs.
I don’t normally give names to inanimate objects, just the special ones. Rémy was purchased from a seller in northeast Alabama close to where that corner of Alabama meets Tennessee and Georgia. It is possible he was made in the southern Appalachians. He was dated as being made in the 1940s, but could be a bit earlier or later. Whoever made this rooster had a good sense of humor.
I found a similar rooster, very likely by the same maker, on a high-end sale site that dated it as 19th century. It sold for more than five times what I paid for my bird and its shipping cost. To me, the 19th century date is doubtful. The entire bird was painted a mottled reddish color that obscured carved details on the head. I suspect the paint job was an effort to artificially age and date the piece.
My rooster is painted black and, based on several nicks and dings, there is no undercoat of a different color. The comb and wattle are dark red.
I find the head-on view a bit disturbing.
Carved details on his head include curlicues on the comb and a simple round eye rimmed with white. The carved line of the beak is defined with dark red paint. There is a chip off the end of the beak and on one wattle (or fleshy caruncle) and some dings here and there. Whatever his age, he is in good condition.
Rémy is made of one piece of wood and is staked into a base that is 4 inches high. A feather edge is carved above his legs, and the legs have spurs. His feet are carved into the base, a common feature for many wooden roosters.
One of the problems the bird carver must solve, besides how to present the legs and feet, is the weight of the tail. Often this is solved by carving the bird and base as one piece, or by placing the bird on a base as was done in the crow/raven in the top photo. The showy tail feathers of a rooster require a different solution as the weight and extension of the tail can easily tip over even small carvings. Rooster crafters have solved this problem by chopping out the underside of the tail feathers, thereby reducing the mass of the tail.
Now, I would never knowingly photograph the hind quarters of anyone, even to show you the rooster-tail solution. On the other hand, I have no qualms using a photograph taken by someone else (of the previously mentioned expensive rooster) as a means of illustrating the solution.
The derrière of the “other” rooster. It also shows more of the surface carving of the tail feathers.
Although we may not be able to perfectly identify the species of each wooden bird, or have exact information on when and who made them, what we do have is handmade work that brings us pleasure. By extension, these wooden examples can help guide us to have a greater appreciation for the birds outside our windows.
1) The Workshop, including the design and construction of workbenches, tool chests and wall cabinets. There’s also an entire section devoted to “appliances,”which are workshop accessories such as shooting boards.
2) Furniture & its Details, includes a discussion of all the important Western furniture styles, including their construction, mouldings and metal hardware. This section also includes the construction drawings for many important and famous pieces of furniture examined by Charles H. Hayward during his tenure at The Woodworker magazine (1939 to 1967).
3) Odds & Sods. In addition to offering its readers practical information for the shop, The Woodworker also asked it subscribers to think about the craft and its place in modern society. We have included many of our favorite philosophical pieces in this final section.
This combined shooting board, mitre shoot, and “donkey’s ear” can be a real asset to the craftsman. It will last a lifetime and prove invaluable in the construction of small photograph frames, and for bench work generally. Skill in its various uses quickly comes with practice, and the parts are easily interchanged.
Many home craftsmen do not bother about the shooting board, but no man who has experienced its use would be without one. This design of board serves several purposes. It is as well to make it of prime timber. Rift sawn stuff is the best, as it resists abrasion better, and tends to stay flatter. Possibly a couple of short ends may be procured from firms specialising in flooring timbers. Note how the annual rings run in rift sawn timber (Fig. 5, C). Fig. 1 is an exploded drawing of the shooting board, giving main sizes. The length may be increased if desired.
The 3-in. wide board (A) takes the bearing of the plane. Its top surface must be planed absolutely true and checked with winding strips. Three bearing pieces are tenoned into the board (A), and it is as well to run the mortises right through the board. Fit the bearers (B) and glue and cramp them home, securing by wedges from the front edge if the mortises have been taken right through (A). When the framework is dry, plane it flat and check its truth again with winding strips.
Fig. 2 (left). WHEN USED AS NORMAL SHOOTING BOARD. Fig. 3 (center). MITRE SHOOT. Fig. 4 (right). DONKEY’S EAR SHOOT.
If board (C) is planed true and even in thickness, its top surface should form a plane parallel with that of board (A) when it is fastened to the runners. To secure board (C) in place insert screws through holes and slots in the bearers as shown in Fig. 1. It is inadvisable to make a shooting board by simply attaching a narrow board to a wide one, since air is excluded from the contacting surfaces and twisting or warping may result.
Furthermore the three bearers (B) act as clamps to board (C) holding it flat.
Stop. The slot for the stop D is a diminished dovetailed housing, details of which are given in Fig. 5 (A), and (B). The stop itself is made longer than the width of the board, fitted, and tapped tightly home. The end that overhangs board (A) is then cut so that the stop fits flush with the edge of board (C). Do not be satisfied until a good fit is obtained. Check the squareness of the stop with the edge of board (C). This may be done with the try-square if you know your square to be accurate, but woodworkers’ squares are notoriously “near enough” and if in doubt a celluloid set-square can be used. Now fit a batten to the underside of the three bearers in order that the shooting board may be held in a vice. This is shown in Fig. 2.
FIG. 5. DOVETAIL GROOVE TO HOLD STOP.
Mitre Shoot. So much for the plain shooting board; the adapting block for the mitre shoot is shown in Fig. 3. This should also be checked with a 45° set square as shown. The block is screwed to board (C ) from underneath, and should be tight against the stop.
Donkey’s Ear. Fig. 4 shows the adaptation for the donkey’s ear. This consists of a built-up block (A) with a piece (B) screwed to its end to act as a stop. 1-in. timber is suitable for the block, the pieces being glued and screwed together. The width of the timber need be only 4 or 5 in. It is as well to make the block longer than required, and saw it to size and shape. The bottom face is most difficult to true, and should be planed first and checked for truth with winding strips. Next plane the far end square and vertical to the base, and true the slant-face last. The piece (B) is screwed to the end of the block and, by fitting against the main stop of the shooting board, is reinforced to take the thrust of the plane. Screws fasten the block to the board as before.
The donkey’s ear must be true in two directions. The 45° angle may be checked with the set square against the sole of the plane. The 90° angle, i.e. the angle between the stop and the sole of the plane, can also be checked with the set square.
One of the big pluses of filling orders from Covington occurred today. Mark, one of our fulfillment employees, was at the Anthe building on an errand and saw a box that wasn’t in the right place.
It was a sealed box of 20 engraved lump hammers. We’ve been out of these hammers for months and don’t have any plans to make any more until next year. I don’t know how they escaped the inventory count, but things have been a bit chaotic here as we get set to move the remainder of our inventory to Covington.
Anyway, if you have wanted one of these special engraved hammers, here is your chance. Or wait until next year.
A wedged through-tenon after the gelled glue has been removed.
In 2018, I shared this trick that David Savage used to improve dovetail joints. He called it “Juicy Lucy,” and it involves flooding the exterior of a joint with extra hide glue to swell the fibers and improve the joint cosmetically.
We continue to use his trick with dovetails with great success. And at some point I started using it with the wedged through-tenons on my chairs. Here’s how I do it.
Applying glue around all show surfaces of the joint before wedging.
After I glue the joint and assemble it (but before wedging), I paint a thick coat of glue around the show surface of the joint. Then I paint glue on the wedge and knock it in place.
Once the glue has gelled, I remove the excess with a dry rag and let the joint continue to set up overnight.
I’ve been real happy with the results.
— Christopher Schwarz
What the glued tenon looks like just before wedging.
