I often see in the trade papers of the day the question asked by young men, “Where shall I go to learn my trade to the best advantage?” To the boy or young man who is in earnest, it is a vital and all-important question, but to the one who has to learn, or go to school, and who chooses the shop rather than the school-room, it does not make any material difference where he goes, so far as he is concerned. And so far as the rest of human race is concerned, I don’t think any of us care. At least I don’t, so long as he takes care to keep away from my shop.
To the boy who is interested in mechanical work, and whose talents naturally develop in that direction, I would suggest that his time of apprenticeship be served in a small shop, for the following reasons: First, in the small shop there is generally but one “cub” or apprentice at a time, and he grows to have more of an interest in the place than if it was large and employing many hands. Second, not having any other boy to play with or to divert his mind from the regular work of the shop, he will get along faster and will grow to be more of a man in his thoughts regarding the reasons for the ways and methods for doing things. (more…)
Next month, I head to sunny/warm/tasty Anaheim, Calif., to teach two classes – a four-day class on building Roorkee chairs and a two-day class on building a Dutch tool chest.
The classes will be held at the William Ng School of Fine Woodworking. This is my first teaching assignment in Southern California, though I have been there many times for woodworking shows, vacations and tacos.
The Roorkee chair class is March 17-20. This is one of my favorite classes to teach because it involves so many new skills for woodworkers, such as learning to make tapered conical mortises, spindle turning and leatherwork. These chairs are great fun to build, plus they travel extraordinarily well.
I’ll also be teaching a two-day class in building a Dutch Tool Chest (March 22-23). This is a somewhat brutal but effective introduction to hand-tool casework. You’ll learn dovetails, dados, rabbets, cut-nail joinery and all of the rules for carcase construction in just two days.
When I teach this class, some of the students end up napping on the bench. But they all end up taking home a tool chest that is portable, tough and useful.
Here’s one of my shameful secrets. When I finish writing a book, I buy something for myself. It can be big or it can be small.
When I finished “Workbenches: From Design & Theory to Construction & Use,” I bought a beat-up 1968 Karmann-Ghia to restore. When I finished “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” I bought a pair of canoe moccasins from Arrow MoccasinCo. (my favorite shoes ever).
When I finished “Campaign Furniture,” I purchased a piece of campaign furniture.
Last fall when I visited Christopher Clarke Antiques for research, they had a Douro chair there that I fell for. The Douro chair is an amazingly comfortable chair that folds into a box. The box converts into a table thanks to four turned legs. I really wanted to own an original because I want to make a copy to take on the road.
The chair arrives this coming week, and I am greatly looking forward to geeking out over its details, from the iron-lined box to the caned back. Building a reproduction of the chair will let me try caning and do some more leatherwork, which is fun.
So if you’ve bought a book from Lost Art Press in the last few years, thanks for your help with buying this Douro.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. We are still waiting to hear a shipping date on “Campaign Furniture” from our printer. My guess: March 7.
In one of the Timber-yards near the City Road, in London, there is a carter who is noted for his kindness to the horse which is under his care. He is deeply attached to it, and the handsome creature appears to be equally fond of him.
Such is the command that this man has acquired over his horse, that a whip is unnecessary. He has only to walk a little in advance, when, after a kind word or two, and the simple pointing of the finger, the noble animal will draw his heavy burden, much more readily than those which are cruelly lashed with the whip.
Oh that more kind words were used in the management of horses, and fewer lashes of the whip! Horses, like human beings, are more easily drawn by kindness, than driven by cruelty. (more…)
The good workman will never use poor tools when he can obtain good ones. The careless workman may, but such choice is an evidence of inferiority, and brands him at once as a man who takes little pride in his calling. A selfish consideration, if no other, will ordinarily impel the workman to select the best tools, because with them he can perform his labor with much greater ease, and with better effect, than with inferior ones.
Exact work can hardly be expected from the mechanic who uses inexact tools, although sometimes very excellent results are obtained where poor tools are employed. But this is always at the expense of greater labor and greater care. Rapidity of work often depends upon the character and condition of the tools employed. This is frequently illustrated in a vivid manner by the attempt to employ a dull saw or a dull plane. Even a trifling defect sometimes causes no end of trouble. To do the most effective work, tools must be of improved design, made strongly for use, and kept in good order. Then the conditions are ripe for executing work under the most favorable circumstances.
It is only the slipshod workman who will be content to use rusty tools, of antiquated design, and out of order, or verging on a state of dilapidation. As well might one expect to find a really superior musician drumming away on an old and worn-out instrument, whose every note gives forth a discord, as to see a bright, active and expert mechanic employing poor and badly-used tools. The good workman will insist on having good tools, and these he will see are kept in fit condition for work. Any other course would be prima facie evidence of his lack of superiority in his calling.