To all of you who have supported and encouraged us along the path of completion for “To Make As Perfectly As Possible: Roubo On Marquetry,” please congratulate yourselves on making André-Jacob Roubo one happy man. Here is a revealing paragraph from the Conclusion of the original treatise.
“One of the biggest obstacles that I have had to overcome is the cry of the public against big books, which they will not buy because they are too expensive, or they buy but do not read because they are too voluminous. But how could I do otherwise? Should I fool the Public in pandering to their taste but against their interests by giving them an abridged and consequently less expensive edition, but where they will learn nothing, or at the most learn only words or names of the arts? ”
Well said, Monsieur Roubo. In an age where far too many want to know everything without bothering to learn anything, I am happy you have found a home at Lost Art Press.
— Don Williams, Michele Pagan and Philippe Lafargue
The best recommendation a carpenter can possess is a good kit of tools, well worn and in fine condition. A chest full of brand-new tools, however nice they may look, is of no use as a recommendation, for it is evident that the man has never used them. When the tools are half worn out, and still are in good condition and ready for instant use, they form pretty good evidence that their owner understands his business.
In looking over a piece of kit possessed by a “wood butcher” not long since, the writer saw an axe which looked like the one shown in Fig 1. There was a big piece broken out of the edge at a, where a spike had evidently come in contact with the edge of the tool. To put this tool in shape considerable grinding must be done.
The first step is to hold the axe against the edge of the grindstone, as shown in Fig 2, until the broken part is entirely removed, leaving the edge at b probably about one-sixteenth of an inch thick. The next step is shown in Fig 3. Rest the head or pole, of the axe, upon the grindstone frame, making a mark at c, so as to be able to replace the axe at will after looking at it. By resting the head of the axe at all times at c, the bevel at d is made flat, and not as shown in Fig. 4. Here there are something more than a dozen different bevels, to say nothing of a corner being ground off where the axe evidently slipped when being placed upon the stone. (more…)
Archimedes is credited with the invention of the screw, but whether the famous geometrician’s labours extended much further than the enunciation of the scientific principles and the mechanical power of the screw, it is difficult to say. If he made a screw, he certainly must have tried its effect, and was probably well satisfied with its performance, for in the whole range of mechanical appliances in the constructive arts there is not a more useful article than the screw.
Archimedes is further reported to have said, “Give me a prop, a position, and a lever strong enough, and I will move the world,” and, no doubt, if these conditions could be granted to him, he, as well as others after him, could lift the earth, or aught upon the earth, by a combination of the tremendous lifting and driving powers exercised by a series of screws, apart from the lever.
Screws are various, and of various sizes, forms, and materials, but the same principle runs through them all, whether they be manufactured for use in metal or woodwork, or for exerting a lifting, driving, or pressing power separately. Our object here is not to treat of screw-cutting, but rather screw-driving in woodwork, and to throw out some useful hints to the building constituency, and particularly workmen.
The use and abuse of screws is a matter of importance to architects, builders, and their clients, for it is according to the way screws may be applied in several building and kindred operations that good or bad workmanship will be evidenced. (more…)
During the last 48 hours, I have been hunched over the latest set of paper proofs of “To Make as Perfectly as Possible: Roubo on Marquetry.” And this is the part where the doubt creeps in.
During every book project, I lose my faith on the 10th edit. As I pored over Chapter 12 last night, I read Roubo’s words, but all I could hear were the critics:
“This translation is incomprehensible.”
“Useless information for the 21st century.”
“This is all there is?”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m in awe of (and grateful for) the work that Don Williams, Michele Pagan and Phillipe LaFargue have done – not to mention Wesley Tanner, the book’s designer. My doubts are a personal problem I’ve had since the day I began writing.
I know there are typos we won’t catch. I know we will be skewered for choosing one word over another in the translation. That we didn’t do enough to make M. Roubo palatable.
So to cheer myself up I decided to make a list of all the things I learned from this volume.
I couldn’t. The list was too long and involves something on almost every page.
Like Robert Wearing’s “The Essential Woodworker,” this is a document that is far greater than the sum of its parts. It is not just a manual of marquetry. Every page oozes Roubo’s personal view of the craft – the failings of customers, fellow craftsmen, merchants. And their occasional triumphs.
In Roubo’s world, quality work is the job of the individual at the bench – even when the customers won’t pay.
And there is something deeper that is even more important and difficult for me to express. But I’ll try:
One of the dominant modern views of pre-Industrial woodworking was that it was a brutal way to live. The work was hard. Each day was a desperate slog for artisans ekeing out a living in poorly lit and dank situations.
All those things might be true, but that doesn’t mean these menuisiers didn’t love their work. When you read Roubo – who was a compagnon – it’s clear that it was cause for rejoicing when they brought something beautiful and well-made in the world.
Yeah, the work was hard. It still is. Yes, it involved years of practice. It still does. And no, it didn’t pay. It still doesn’t.
But it has been and always will be something that is (and I’m stealing Don Williams’ favorite word here) glorious.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. Today I finish up my editing on this book and send the paper back to the designer (about 15 pounds of it). I don’t want to take this stuff on the plane to Germany. Our goal is to send this book to the printer on July 1. I think we can make it.
To all of you who have supported and encouraged us along the path of completion for “To Make As Perfectly As Possible: Roubo On Marquetry,” please congratulate yourselves on making André-Jacob Roubo one happy man. Here is a revealing paragraph from the Conclusion of the original treatise.
