With “The Stick Chair Book” off to press, I need to clear out the workshop of chairs I built for the book. Most have already gone to customers, but I have two prototypes that I hope to sell.
Both of these chairs are original designs, are signed, sit well and are structurally great. But they have cosmetic defects that have caused me to lower their price significantly.
Walnut Irish(ish) Armchair
This chair is made from local Ohio walnut. The legs and sticks were split out. The arms, seat and backrest were sawn out. The seat height is 14-1/2” off the floor and the backrest is angled at 30°. This chair is designed for lounging, and the seat is lightly saddled. The sticks are all shaved and are slightly faceted.
The chair is assembled with hide glue (for long-term repairability) and finished with a homemade mixture of organic linseed oil and beeswax – so it is easily repaired.
Cosmetic defects: I experimented with some new drill bits on this chair, which cut a slightly oval hole in the arms. This resulted in some small gaps around the tenons, which I filled with a colored wax.
The chair is $800 plus actual shipping costs via common carrier. You can also pick it up, or I will deliver it free within a 100-mile radius of Cincinnati.
Six-stick Comb-back Chair
UPDATE: THIS ONE HAS BEEN CLAIMED
This chair is made from a variety of woods that were left over from other chairs I built for the book. The legs and stretchers are made from split oak. The seat is maple. The sticks and comb are cherry. The arms are poplar. The reason this chair is discounted is that I experimented with a radical back angle (25°). As a result, it sits fantastic, but looks a little angular to my eye. Structurally perfect.
The seat height is 17” off the floor with an overall height of 41”. This chair is designed for lounging. The chair is assembled with hide glue (for long-term repairability) and is finished with an acrylic paint (“Lamp Black” by General Finishes).
The chair is $800 plus actual shipping costs via common carrier. You can also pick it up, or I will deliver it free within a 100-mile radius of Cincinnati.
How to Buy One
If you want to purchase one of these chairs, send an email to fitz@lostartpress.com. I am happy to answer any and all questions, but the first person who says “I’ll take it” gets it.
On Saturday, I sprayed two coats of lacquer on a small Dutch tool chest and its lower chest, then reinstalled the hardware. With that, I am done with the building and picture-taking thereof…I think.
I have a table of contents with chapters that cover the order of operations, and image folders tagged to each of those chapters. The images within each folder serve as a visual outline of what I need to cover in the text, and many of my pictures are simply visual notes – reminders of what I want to write – that won’t make it into the book.
By the end, I’ll have taught readers how to build two sizes of Dutch tools chest (with a choice of three lids), plus a lower chest on which to rest the small one (or the large one, if you’re tall), to make it easy to access the tools (as well as hold more). I’m offering several approaches to each operation when practical, so that no matter what the tool kit or skill set, readers should be able to find a method that appeals.
I’ve outfitted the interiors of both chests to hold chisels, marking knives and other pointy tools on the back wall. One has a saw till on the chest floor, the other has it behind the hanging rack. Both chests have cubbies for a jointer, jack and smooth plane (and suggestions for ways to tuck a block plane on the wall).
But as I wrote months ago, I’ve seen many clever modifications, drawers, racks, lift-out tills and more in similar chests over the years. And because I can’t possibly construct every possibility myself, I plan to feature some of those in a gallery (with credit, of course!) in the book. Many of you who’ve already built Dutch tool chests responded to my initial request for pictures, and I’ll be in touch with you soon (and thanks again!).
But I’d love to have more photos for the book. I’m looking for clever solutions to storing tools – digital images that are at least 300 dpi at 5×7. (Chris has a helpful post on photography here.) In short, I need in-focus pictures that show the relevant features without clutter or visual distractions. I realize not everyone can shoot these kinds of photos, so if quick phone snaps* are the best you can do, I’ll feature some of those in blog posts when the book comes out, which I hope is before the winter holidays. The deadline for photos is June 30, to fitz@lostartpress.com.
I’ll have this book written, designed and to my editor (that would be Chris) by July 30. So I’m signing off now to start writing far too many words, then excising as many adverbs and gerunds as possible.
— Fitz
* Note: If you have a late-model phone, it might be able to take pictures of a quality suitable for print.
A double-Dutch tool chest, with hand-forged hardware from Horton Brasses.
Orion Henderson at Horton Brasses was kind enough to work with me on a custom, blacksmith-forged hardware kit for the Dutch tool chest, which includes two strap hinges, two chest lifts and a hasp. And because this iron is so gorgeous, I asked him to reverse the barrel on the hinges so that they attach to the exterior – if you’re using handmade hardware, might as well show it off. (Bonus: no hinge mortises to cut.)
All the pieces feature a “bean” motif; it appears on the end of the long hinge leaf, in the shape of the lifts’ backplates and on the top leaf of the hasp on the underside of the lid.
Both leaves of the hasp.
Hasp and staple.
The lifts come with square-head bolts (and matching washers and nuts) to fit 3/4″-thick material so that you can attach them through the sides, and safely use the lifts to actually lift the chest.
One of the chest lifts.
Because the hinges are attached on the outside, when the lid is open, there’s a gap at the back. It closes up, of course, when the lid is down.
A close-up of the back leaf. The hinges come with black, slotted screws.
Front leaf.
The full kit is $491.09, which is 25 percent less than were you to buy the pieces individually. (You can also pick only the hardware pieces you want, of course, though at no discount). Are there less expensive options? Of course – and I’ll give you lots of those in my forthcoming book on the Dutch tool chest. But I don’t think you’ll find a better price on blacksmith made, hand-forged hardware. And gosh does it look nice!
Above is all the wood in mid-prep for seven “Anarchist’s tool chests.” The lid panels and carcase front/back and ends still need to be cut to final width and length. I’m excited to soon be teaching again…but just looking at this picture makes me tired!
I don’t make many unequivocal statements, but here’s one: Some non-stringy species of white pine is the correct wood for a tool chest. And if you can get it, choose sugar pine or Eastern white pine. These are lightweight woods that are easy to work with hand tools, and they are typically less expensive in the U.S. than any hardwood, with the possible exception of poplar. And while poplar will work for a tool chest – as will any wood, really – it’s heavy and harder to dovetail than pine. And that will make your tool chest heavier than it needs to be.
Fully loaded, a sugar pine “Anarchist’s Tool Chest” weighs in the neighborhood of 200-225 lbs. (The hardware and choice of wood for tills and other interior bits will affect the weight, as, of course, will the specific tools inside.)
And while I’ve never weighed a pine Dutch tool chest fully loaded, I used to work out of a poplar one while teaching on the road, and I had a heck of a time lifting it in and out of my car. So I’m keeping one of the pine ones I’m building right now to make my peripatetic woodworking life just a little easier.
For the tool chest classes I teach here, I do my best to source beautiful, clear sugar pine, which is typically available in wide widths – the fewer pieces in panel glue-ups, the better. But every once in a while, someone will ask if they can prep their own wood for a class – and it’s usually for the anarchist’s tool chest class – the one for which the wood prep is the most demanding and most critical that it be good. I say sure…but you darn well better do a good job of it. A) I won’t have time during the class to fix any out-of-square edges for you and B) I won’t have on hand matching stock to replace a piece should something go terribly wrong. C) I don’t want to help lift your full-size oak or purpleheart tool chest into your car at the end of class.
But if you insist on bringing your own, below are the steps to follow (some of which are pretty basic…but you never know what people already know).
The flatter the wood, the easier it is to prep – and the more plain the grain, generally the easier it is to dovetail. I don’t want any points of cathedrals or bird’s eyes in my pins and tails (or knots, or course). So the first thing I do is to lay out rough cuts to avoid anything problematic. I start with the largest pieces (above, that’s the front and back of the ATC), and try my best to have all my glue-ups be only two pieces (you can see above that I typically have to use three pieces in at least some of the carcase and lid panels).
So first, I mark out all the pieces, and if they’re longer than 14″ or so, I rough cut them about 1″ overlong at the chop saw and about 1/2″ overwide at the band saw (or I joint one edge then cut them overwide at the table saw). For pieces that are shorter than 14″ (and therefore can’t safely go through the planer), I keep them attached to another piece until after the surfacing is done. You don’t, however, want to leave the pieces much longer than they need to be. The longer a board, the more likely it is to be twisted – the less of that you have to take out, the better. Because the more you have to remove from one surface to correct twist or a cup, the more will go into your dust collector.
In order to run the wood through the planer to get it flat (and all of it to the same thickness), you need one flat face; that face registers on the bed of the planer. If you’re good with a jointer plane, you may not need a jointer. If you’re decent with a jointer plane but have to prep wood for seven people and have three days to do it, you definitely want an electric jointer.
If you have a helical head on your jointer, you don’t have to worry much about grain direction, but run the stock in the correct direction anyway; it’s a good habit to adopt. The grain should be running downhill. And if there’s a crown in the board on one face, there’s probably a cup on the other. When you run the wood across the cutters, you want it supported as much as possible at the outside edges, so the cupped face should face down. If you’ve already arranged it with the grain running correctly but the cupped face up, simply flip the board end for end, before jointing it. (Odds are pretty good that the heart side will be facing up.)
With thick wood, you can get away with jointing it only enough to create flats at the outside edges to register on the planer bed. But the planer rollers will flatten thin wood…which will spring back after it exits the planer. So for 3/4″ (or thinner) stock, I always run the stock as many times as necessary across the jointer to flatten one face completely. And because I think it’s unsafe to have to push too hard, I’d rather make several light cuts than one deep cut; I usually have the cut set to no more than 1/16″
The knives are to the left of the wood; note how the grain is running “downhill” – when the cutters spin clockwise into the wood, they’re moving in the same direction as the grain is running out of the bottom of the wood. If you run the cutters against the grain, it can lift it up and tear it.
The crown of this board indicates that the other face need to go against the jointer bed. Were I to run it over the cutters like this, the board would rock.
After the final jointer pass, I stack the boards atop the planer, flat face down, with the last end that went over the jointer facing toward the planer mouth – that’s the way they get fed in (last off jointer, first in planer). Though again, if you have a helical cutter, it’s not (usually) that critical.
Stacked and ready to feed, with the jointed faces down. As I pull a board toward me for the first pass, the end that needs to go in the planer is the end already facing in that direction.
I follow the same steps every time I use the planer; that way, I never get turned around. As I pull pieces off the far end, I stack them back in the exact same orientation as they were run through the machine. Then if I have to run them again to get to a certain thickness and the first face is flat, I flip them end for end as I feed them into the planer for the second pass. And repeat. That way, I’m removing wood from both faces, and hopefully equalizing the moisture exchange. (And if I have someone catching for me, I make sure they don’t flip the boards as they stack them.) Same steps for the operator every time. And if the first face isn’t flat after one pass, the board is in the right direction without flipping it to simply run it through again.
And here’s the critical part for classes when it comes to thicknessing: I run all the wood that has to be the same thickness at the same time. I would never run, say, the front and back of a through-dovetailed carcase then come back three days later and run the ends. In order to avoid problems, all the pieces must be the exact same thickness – your best shot at achieving that is to do it all at once. I don’t care if the pieces are a hair over or under 7/8″ – I just care that they’re all the same.
Once all the stock is flat and to thickness, I joint one edge in preparation for cutting it to final size (even if I’ve already jointed an edge to cut a piece to rough width, I do it again, in case it got bashed up), and mark the jointed edge; that edge will run against the table saw’s fence.
This curlicue mark on the jointed edge helps me quickly know which edge is straight and flat.
But it’s the table saw work that scares me the most in folks prepping their own stock; if the pieces aren’t square, the person’s class experience is doomed – and I don’t want that. But if I have to take the time to correct problems, the other students in the class suffer. So at least one person (in addition to me) is going to be unhappy.
So I am ultra careful at the table saw to make sure my cuts are square. First, I rip the pieces to final width, making sure I keep the wood tight to the fence. Then I triple check that the crosscut fence is dead square to the blade, and before we got a reliable slider, I clamped like pieces together to make sure they were the exact same length. (Now I trust the stop on our slider. But I don’t trust the stop on your slider.)
As long at I don’t jam the workpieces against the stop, I am confident that our slider will cut multiple pieces to equal length. (But as you can see from my tape measure, I don’t yet trust the tape on the fence!)
So after setting my stop I raise it, then crosscut one end square (with the jointed-edge mark against the fence), then drop the stop, flip the board and cut it to length. Boom – two square ends, and the right length. Repeat.
Once all the pieces of that length are cut, I reset the stop and cut the mating pieces. And so on with the rest of the stock.
Before we had a sliding crosscut fixture, I used this shop-made sled. If the pieces were longer than the sled, there was no way to set a stop. So I crosscut one end of each like pieces, then carefully…so carefully…clamped them together to cut the final length of both at the same time. It was the only way I felt confident that the pieces would exactly match. And I also had to then make sure each pair stayed together.
Note that all of the above assumes no glue-ups. Throw wide panels into the mix and you add glue-ups to the prep. I’ll write about those in a few days.
My class prep cutlist for the Anarchist’s Tool Chest.
This is a picture from the December locals-only blem sale…there are not this many left.
As you likely already know, we sell “blems” (books that are lightly damaged, but still utterly readable) only at the storefront, and we always say, “sorry – we can’t ship these.” But given that we won’t have an open house this year until autumn at the earliest, and that we’ve already tapped out the local market, and that we can’t sell these through the online store…
On Monday, Feb. 1, at 10 a.m. Eastern, we will post a rare offer for purchase of one of the 30 or so blemished copies of “The Book of Plates” that are in the basement at the storefront, and we will mail them out in USPS large flat-rate boxes. The cost – $70 – includes the boxing and shipping. I’ll respond to the first 30 or so people who email at 10 a.m. Monday and not before (as many people, in order of emails received, as there are books available) to collect shipping and payment information. Payment will be via PayPal (though you don’t need a PayPal account). All sales are final. No exchanges or returns.
Please note: We can only ship these books to a U.S. mailing address. We cannot send them outside the country. Wir versenden nur in die USA. Nous expédions uniquement aux États-Unis. Біз тек Америка Құрама Штаттарына жеткіземіз.
These books will be available on a first-come, first-served basis, via an email to me – and I will not entertain any offers that arrive in my in box before 10 a.m. Eastern on Monday morning. I’m letting y’all know ahead of time in case you want to be waiting by your computer when they go on sale.
The book features all of the drawings (called “plates”) from André Roubo’s masterpiece “l’Art du menuisier.” There are detailed drawings of every kind of furniture form, plus tools, interior trim and architectural woodwork, carriage making, marquetry and garden furniture. It’s a fascinating and illustrated look into the 18th century world of material culture and woodwork.
This is a huge book – 11″ x 17″. Printed in the United States on #100 Mohawk paper. Sewn and bound in Michigan. Beautifully made. And it will not be reprinted. The damage to these copies could include a crushed edge or two or a warped cover. Or both. But all the pages are there, and all the pictures are pretty.
— Fitz
p.s. My email is in the “via an email to me” in the link above – but it’s fitz@lostartpress.com. Again, though, don’t email me about this until Monday at 10 a.m.
