Popular Woodworking

Prototype 18th c style firming chisels shipping

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 15:29:29 GMT

I've been working on making chisels for close to 9 months now. I've finally made up a number of sets for review. As comments come back, I'll make some final tweaks. If the reviewers simply don't care for these, this product will likely die on the vine. But if everything works out as I expect, I should be able to offer 18th c style firming chisels with features and sizes that make sense for the work we do. These won't be clones of other chisels on the market. They are a new look at what chisels are for, what features they should have, what matters and what doesn't. My hope is that they offer serious woodworkers a new perspective on the oldest woodworking tool.

Adam

Changing Woodworking

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 11:56:31 GMT

"Popular Woodworking" magazine is once again redefining, er, well, popular woodworking. For years Pop Wood, as we affectionately call it, has been driven not by business majors and polls, but by enthusiasts. And this is clearly evident in the content of the magazine. I believe pop wood's sister publication, Woodworking Magazine , was the first to be published without ads. Now, it appears, "Woodworking Magazine" is the first web based magazine on the subject. Though he may quibble, much of this is the doing of Pop Wood's Editor in Chief, Chris Schwarz. Not content to stop there, the folks at the helm of the Popular Woodworking's ship have set a course to redefine the woodworking show.

What they've done is assemble the who's who of hand tool woodworking and gather high end hand tool makers from across the North American continent. There will be a marketplace like other shows, but there will also be instruction including hands-on clinics. This is a woodworking show that will expose you to the latest greatest tools, but will also offer clinics to help make you a better woodworker. The clinics will have small class sizes and top instructors, often times several in a single clinic to give you a well rounded look at the subject.
PW encourages authors to be photographers. This has got to be cheaper than sending crews to faraway lands. But I see a huge advantage to this arrangement. I think we can look at a subject in levels of detail never before possible. Digital photography has really helped make this possible. But the vision and leadership of Popular Woodworking magazine has brought it to print.

Next time you are reading your favorite ww magazine, ask yourself if the pictures you see are staged and if you are really getting a detailed accounting of construction. Had I never written for a magazine, I doubt I would ask myself this question, which is why I pose it here. How does the structure of the relationship between author and publisher effect the final product we read?

To my thinking, it's almost like the difference between a documentary and a dramatic scripted film. I think I prefer the documentary. Especially those revolutionary war documentaries on the History channel.! It's amazing how that film has lasted this long!

Adam

P.S. I don't get the History channel :(

Writing Arts & Mysteries

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 13:58:43 GMT

To hear Chris Schwarz describe it, writing for Popular Woodworking meant endless parties and very little "real" work. Now in my fourth year, I find it more similar to a vocational calling than a non-stop frat house party. Chris was joking of course. But many of my friends don't seem to understand why I do what I do. "Doesn't it make you feel good to see your name in print?" they ask. In a word, no. It doesn't.

I think writing a column like Arts and Mysteries is more like teaching. You don't do it for the money. And though you will become known, and may even become famous in some circles, you don't do it for the fame.

But the job is not without it's rewards. And last week, I got one of the biggest bonuses any teacher could hope for. I was contacted by a fellow in California who wanted to honor a fellow teacher's 40 years of service. He thought my standing desk would be perfect, with a few small changes. He used the parametric plans to scale down the design to suit. I think he did a pretty good job.

Coach B with teacher Kathy King

Looks pretty comfortable to me. Nice job Coach!

Coach shows off his skills on the interior with beautiful Tiger Maple.

So why do I write? Because every now and again, I get an email like this one.

Adam

Tools for Sale- Thanks be to Dunbar

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 13:17:50 GMT

I'm making a few tools for sale.

I just want to say, that I'm thrilled Mike Dunbar is writing for PW. Have you been reading his articles? I think he is my favorite ww author. Dunbar is responsible for many things that have greatly influenced the type of work we do. He really popularized the use of traditional methodologies by building a market around them. He also helped lift the boutique tool market. His theory was that the techniques couldn't survive without new tools being made to support their use. The craft simply can't rely on antique tools. This developed a market for tools including my saws. And it allowed people to try techniques they couldn't have perfected otherwise. So thanks Mike.

Adam

18th c Painted furniture?

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 19:55:27 GMT

I just got my copy of "Early American Life" magazine in which I was listed in the "Directory of Traditional American Crafts". I was included in the "Furniture, Formal or Painted" category. The title annoys me a little. I'm not sure there's always a distinction between formal and painted. Certainly japanned or lacquered pieces were among the most formal. But, okay, I get it. It's semantics.

Under my name they added a description of my work, "18th c painted furniture". I'm not sure that's a great description of what I do. When I think of painted furniture I think of decoratively painted furniture, not faux finishes or faux grained. I'm not writing to complain. I'm thrilled and honored to be included at all. But I think the subject of painted furniture is interesting. Here's what I know about it:

Paint was sometimes used to make cheap wood look like expensive wood. Curly maple and cherry were prime candidates for faux finishing. The goal was to make something look like mahogany and these two species could get you close. I've heard that there was very little naturally finished maple. Maple was almost always painted.
Some items were routinely painted. Post and rung and windsor chairs were typically painted. Benno Forman tells us a wide range of colors were used in the late 17th and early 18th centuries. I would expect that variety of color would have continued throughout the 18th and probably 19th centuries as well.
We usually associate painted furniture with middle class or lower furniture. Sometimes that's true, sometimes not. Certainly, faux graining was a very high end finish.
Painted finishes don't last. As the paint wears off, people seem less and less thrilled with their furniture. Refinishing or mistreatment usually follows, resulting in far fewer surviving painted pieces. That's one of the things I love about making painted furniture. Surviving examples from the 18th c are incredibly rare. In my opinion, such pieces are perfect candidates for reproduction makers.

I think it's true that the furniture that has survived, the furniture that we see in Israel Sack or Nutting, or an art museum gallery, doesn't represent a slice of normal 18th c life. Missing are the more fragile items, the everyday items that no one bothered to save and much of the middle class furniture.

Reproduction furniture makers have it in their power to reproduce the mundane items, the middle class items that enrich our understanding for 18th c material culture. I know people like carved furniture. And every girl wants to be a princess. And a little fantasy never hurt anyone. But what's wrong or boring about celebrating who we really are? I think middle class furniture is fascinating. I'd like to see more of my colleagues making it. I hope you'll consider it.

Adam

Social Functionality of 18th c Craft

Wed, 04 Jun 2008 15:50:04 GMT

Sea Captain James MacPherson built Mount Pleasant to ensure his ascention into a social class to which he was not born. The building's carved interior may be ostentatious to some. It's grand classical design, and faux mahogany entrance hall was designed to impress. But I don't want to bore you with this again. Worthy of further thought, however, is the notion that Captain MacPherson's rising tide may have lifted more than his own jolly boat.

Moxon began "Mechanick Exercises" with an apology for his examination and description of people so low as to offend the sensibilities of his readers:

"I See no more Reason, why the Sordidness of some Workmen, should be the cause of contempt upon Manual Operations,..."

Ouch! Sounds like something from KNOTS. And he's not through yet with the slams:

"And tho' the Mechanicks be, by some, accounted Ignoble and Scandalous!..."

So here in Moxon's preface we see revealed the general, if not contempt, then clear lack of exaltation of English Craftsmen. Who was upheld in that society? Moxon himself reveals it:

"That Geometry, Astronomy, Perspective, Music, Navigation, Architecture &c are all excellent Sciences, all that know but their very Names will confess,..."

Moxon goes on to defend the honor of craftsmen in their practical use of these more noble pursuits. But clearly we see the pecking order.

Here we begin to see a different tack:

"...only I shall say, it is Rational to think, that the Mechanicks [i.e. craft] began with Man, he being the only creature that Nature has imposed most Necessity upon it to use it..."

I take this to mean that Moxon is suggesting, and in a very enlightened way, that God created man and gave him craft. So it's not so bad to be a craftsman. After all, our trade was made by God and given to us. I wonder how compelling an argument this was.

[we were] endow'd with the greatest Reason to contrive it [craft], and adapted with the properest Members (as instruments) to perform it."

Okay so here it is. Thanks for sticking with it. So what I'm reading is the attempt to lift the "manual operations", by suggesting:

1) they are the natural beneficiaries of the more noble pursuits
2) they were given us by nature or God
3) the tools are "Instruments" and not wholly unlike a telescope or microscope, the instruments of loftier pursuits

In our world, the customer is always right, however hideous the entertainment center or ignoble the MDF. But in their world, commissions for exalted work, executed beautifully, may have also exalted the craftsmen and possibly the craft itself. With skills "given by God", and delicate, often decorated "instruments" for tools, colonial era craftsmen may have had as much "social capital" invested in their work as their customers did. This can be easily dismissed with "pride in their work" sentiments. But I think there was a lot more to it than that. Here in the USA, we in the vast middle class just don't experience the sorts of social pressures folks did 250 years ago. I think Moxon's preface clearly indicates as much.

Adam

And Medieval begat Jacobean, who begat Arts and Crafts

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 17:19:09 GMT

If you buy into the sentiment in my previous blog, the next logical question is "But where do I start?" "Must I start by flint knapping a stone plane blade?" "Adam, you've gone too far."

I don't think its a fact that every thing is sequential, i.e. each new item is not necessarily inspired by previous items of similar function. But there are clearly individual genetical lines, not unlike families.

The place to start is with an art history text book. I have been skipping over these for years as nothing more than academic mumbo jumbo, totally irrelevant and divorced from the construction of furniture. Even well trained docents sometimes mistake dovetails for mortise and tenon joints. But these folks can offer us the family trees we need to improve our skills and understanding.

I'm not going to embarrass myself by attempting to summarize the world's finest furniture styles' lineage. What I can say is that some styles relied heavily upon the previous style. This was the essential point behind the Philadelphia Art Museum's show in 1999-2000. It's likely the style you like best was begat of another. I think if you read up on the earlier style, your woodwork and enjoyment of it will improve.

Adam

Must all Christians be Jews first?

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 12:44:17 GMT

This question arose in the earliest days of Christendom. I believe St. Paul, himself a Jew, provided the definitive answer: Naah.

For my own part I understand those who felt Christianity is a progression that must begin with Judaism. Maybe that's why Judaism dominated all 4 years of religion classes in my Roman Catholic high school. We used to joke that we went to Catholic school to become Jews. I may also be particularly sympathetic to an anti-parochial point of view because the man who taught those religion classes was a Polish Jesuit Priest and Auschwitz death camp survivor, imprisoned for his outspoken faith.

What's all this have to do with woodworking you ask? I see many of the same points of view in the almost as dogmatic and burning question (on everyone's lips these days): Must all period cabinetmakers be joiners first? Many feel they can jump into cabinetmaking like stepping on to a train. No need to have travelled the road before.

For my part, I see great value and benefit in a deeper, perhaps even intimate, understanding of the previous. In this year's series of articles for Popular Woodworking Magazine, my unstated goal is the construction of a formal Chippendale (baroque) chair. I've begun that process by constructing chairs of a style and structure easily 50 years earlier. You can read along and see how I do. But if you're the type who reads between the lines, I think you'll find that I disagree with Paul from Tarsus.

Adam

FREE PLANS - what every woodworker wants

Wed, 14 May 2008 19:10:41 GMT

Philadelphia's Powel House in 1933
The Powel House is still standing at 244 S. 3rd Street

During the Great Depression, the U.S. Government instituted a program through the WPA that paid architects to photograph or draw plans of historic buildings. The program was called the Historic American Building Survey or HABS for short. Today the entirety of this government funded program is available online through the Library of Congress Website. If this link doesn't work, just go to the Library of Congress's main page at www.loc.gov and type "HABS" in the search box.

You can do a search on geographic areas or date of construction and find photos and often measured drawings of some darn fine old buildings. Some of the plans include detailed drawings of interior woodwork, including windows, doors, wainscots, stairs, etc.

Fairmount Park's Mount Pleasant

Fairmount Park's Mount Pleasant was carefully drawn in detail including its fantastic interior woodwork. Independence Hall aka the State House is a marvelous structure whose interior was also carefully measured, drawn, and photographed. A search for Philadelphia's "Powel House" (top) reveals photos of it's impressive interior but no plans that I could see. The Powel house was probably one of the finest urban homes in Colonial America and affords a glimpse at what the first Presidential Mansion may have looked like.

You can search your own State or Town. You may have a gem in your own area or more likely find that a fine old structure was torn down for the new Starbucks. No bother. Drive over anyway. Sit and have a latte and surf over to HABS on your iPhone using Starbucks' free wireless router. Take a detailed tour of the building that used to be there.

For those interested in traditional or historic woodwork all across the USA and from a range of time periods, the L.O.C.'s HABS offers a virtual tour with project plans attached. What more could any woodworker ask for? Some biscotti perhaps?

Adam

Access Privileges

Sun, 04 May 2008 12:49:04 GMT

A lighter than expected turnout at Mt. Pleasant yesterday allowed me to sit in on Chris Storb's presentation. It was great and I learned a lot. But as I sat in the room where John Adams may have been received, the day's fine light streaming in through the 18th c window, listening to one of our nation's most accomplished 18th c carvers, I considered two things: 1) How privileged I was to have had this experience and how many of you would have gladly been there if you could have. 2) How "behind the ropes" access to 18th c masterpieces has changed my perspective of period furniture.

When I think of the top reproduction furniture makers in the country, they are all privileged to have exceptional access to period furniture. Let's just name a few names off the top of my head: Allan Breed, Gene Landon, Mack Headley all have exceptional access.

As you and I look to increase our furniture making skills, I think its important to look to every opportunity to improve our access; through museums, events like the one in Mount Pleasant yesterday, Williamsburg's conferences to name a few. I'm not trying to put anyone down here. In fact you can view this as a compliment. But I think woodworkers who can't see, preferably touch, crawl under 18th c masterpieces are at a severe disadvantage. Museum catalog books may be your best alternative. But I'm finding more and more that information from folks like me with spotty access and only pictures of my own furniture to share is really not as helpful.

Adam

Two American Masters

Fri, 02 May 2008 00:23:33 GMT

It is my understanding that there are still a few slots open for this weekend's "American Craft Traditions at Work" at Mt. Pleasant in Fairmount Park in Philadelphia. This is a great opportunity to see the work of two of the best carvers Philadelphia has ever known.

Master Carver Martin Jugiez was active in Philadelphia in the third quarter of the 18th c. Jugiez was responsible for the carvings on some of the best known pieces of the period. We know that Affleck employed him. In addition to furniture, we now know that Jugiez also carved the architectural carvings in Mount Pleasant, which are nothing short of breath taking.

Chris Storb has spent a good portion of his career studying and copying the carvings of 18th c Philadelphia carvers. His familiarity with period carvers is so great that he can tell you what gouges each carver had and didn't have. Chris, trained as a sculptor, works in the conservation labs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art where he has duplicated, repaired, or created from scratch many of the carvings you see in the galleries. He's responsible for the carvings shown above. Storb has never written a book or taught a class. But this weekend, a few lucky souls willing to pony up the $50 will get to spend 45 minutes with Chris as he recreates Jugiez' carvings.

If you are free this weekend and interested in Philadelphia Chippendale style, you'd be nuts not to attend this seminar. If you have any question about attending at this late hour email me or call my cell (see

I'm proud of being included. And I'm pleased a panel of pretty distinguished judges decided against voting me off the island. But I find this a difficult subject to speak about. Not only am I not one of America's best craftsmen, traditional or otherwise, I don't really even think that's what the competition is about.

When I think of a top craftsman, I, perhaps shockingly, think of Norm Abram. He's someone who I imagine can saw a straight line, make a tight fitting joint, and have little scrap at the end of a project. To judge my craftsmanship, you'd have to see me work, see how I use my tools. Am I hard on them? (I'm not) Am I consistent and neat? (I'm not). I've seen many good craftsmen in my time. I'm related to several, especially my brother Steve. Steve is the kind of guy for whom tools simply work better. A dull knife just cuts better in his hands. Steve used to cut my hair (when I had hair). Didn't matter what the job was. Emergency appendectomy? I think Steve could do it. To me, tool use is what craftsmanship is all about.

As woodworkers, we tend to think of ourselves in terms of the work we do, not the work we produce. We identify ourselves not with our products, but with the material we work, or the processes we use to work it. There are hand tool people and machine people, and some who are a little of both.

I sent Early American Life digital images of my furniture. There may have been a shot that showed dovetails, but there was no way to know whether my mortise and tenons were capable of reacting load. I was judged the way the world judges us all; based on the outward appearance of my work. I was judged based on my ability to execute an 18th c esthetic, or someone's idea of an 18th c esthetic.

What people see when they look at our work isn't how much wood we wasted or how tight our joints are. They see artwork. They respond to the color, shape, details, or hardware choice, all things we never talk about. Few of us have any experience or education to guide us in these matters. Yet we happily sift through woodworking articles in hopes of finding a few helpful tips. Are they tips about how to be successful as a woodworker? How to make things people will cherish and value? Some authors or magazines try and we disparagingly call them artsy fartsy and go back to Schwarz' drill press review.

This year, I'm going to have a close look at what I think it means to make great stuff. And I'll share with you how and exactly why I'm not One of America's Best.

Adam

Talking about period woodworking...

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 17:11:20 GMT

I'll be giving a talk about period woodworking to the Woodworkers' guild of South Jersey on Thursday night, March 27th. The talk is held in Cherry Hill NJ, which is very near Philadelphia. Details are one my website (which I intend to update more frequently). Check out www.adamcherubini.com and click on Appearances for details.

Adam

Nicholson Bench

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 16:32:06 GMT

The "Nicholson" or "English" bench is a simple workbench, possibly made using 2 by construction lumber, that features a characteristic deep front apron drilled to enable to the use of holdfasts or pegs to support work vertically. It lacks any penetration through its top save a single planing stop. A simple and ineffectual face vise adorns the front left side of the bench. No tail vise or additional means of support are shown.

The bench gets its name by its depiction in Peter Nicholson's early 19th c text "Mechanic's Companion...." (the real title is a paragraph long, typical of the period). Nicholson's text is much in the same form as Moxon's late 17th c text "Mechanic's Exercises..." and contains much of the same sort of information. Nicholson covered a variety of trades, and republished the manuscript over a period of years in various forms, very like Moxon. One of the biggest differences between the authors is that Nicholson was actually a workman whereas Joseph Moxon was a chronicler.

The image of Nicholson's bench should be familiar to woodworkers. It appeared in Landis' coffee table book "The Workbench Book" (Taunton Press) and Chris Schwarz included a reprint in his vastly superior text "Workbenches" (FW publications). This oft republished image also shows the surface plane trinity: fore, try, and smoother, as well as a plow, sash and moving fillester planes, all essential to the work of a house joiner.

The entire text of Nicholson is available on line, thanks to the good folks at Google Books. You are free to download a pdf copy to your hard drive (highly recommended). Google "Mechanic's Companion" and choose the 1845 edition, as its a better scan and the pdf includes hyper links. The image of the bench is on page ii in the opening pages of the book. Don't miss the description of the construction of this bench including its hidden "locker", which I've never seen reproduced.

In addition to the engraving in Nicholson, similar benches are shown in contemporaneous paintings of English woodshops (see Landis' or better yet, Gaynor's (see below) book for reprints of these paintings). Slightly earlier texts by Frenchmen Roubo and Diderot depict benches that are similar to each other, yet contrast starkly with the Nicholson bench. These, now called "French" benches, feature thick, monolithic tops mounted to stout legs with no evidence of aprons. Roubo also showed a variant of these benches with an elaborate face and tail vise, and identified it as a "German" bench. Perhaps due to Roubo's regionalized identification, combined with the corroborating English paintings and contrary French images, some have taken to referring to Nicholson's bench as an "English" bench.

One problem with the use of the term "English Bench" is that it suggests that regionalism was the cause of the form as opposed to typical use, materials, or available technology etc. Thus obscured is the fact that the Nicholson bench is always depicted in association with joineries, not cabinetshops. Interestingly, the lid of an English joiner's tool chest circa 1790 (he may have been a cabinetmaker) shown in Jay Gaynor's fine must-have text depicts a thick topped bench with no tail vise (so far similar to a "French" bench) with a twin screw vise applied to the front left. The Dominy bench is somewhat similar in form. What I like best about the tool chest lid (which I believe resides in Jane Rees' personal collection) is that it shows the workman holding a tankard of what must be beer, thereby engaging in an apparently ancient woodworking tradition that I hold dear and sacred.

The advantages of the Nicholson bench appear to be its simple and inexpensive construction, light yet stiff design, and easily achievable extreme length. These features, along with its apron, suggest a particular superiority for the work of a house joiner, responsible for long runs of moldings, and the fabrication of household doors and windows.

I don't personally consider the bench to be universally superior to any other style. It works for its intended use. But I appreciate the inexpensive materials required, simplicity of its joinery, and its light weight. All of which would certainly be attractive to joiners who required little else, may be called upon to transport or construct a bench on site, and who had access to wide, sawn, often softwood timbers.

I recall one woodcentral.com participant bemoaning the then fad quality of the Nicholson bench, suggesting we were a fickle bunch to switch from French bench devotees to English bench devotees and back again, possibly with a layover in Scandinavia in between. Though the thread died shortly thereafter, I think the poster had a good point. Workbenches do indeed seem to come in and out of style, seemingly for no good reason. In my opinion, the reason for bench fads is the lack of real and basic analysis. Schwarz has provided more and better analysis than anyone has to date. But he also left a fair bit up to the reader, and instead focused on more useful subjects like how to actually build the darn thing, what works and what doesn't.

I think if you have a question about what a Nicholson bench and whether its right for you, you should do the following:

1) Read Landis' book at the public library (or neighborhood Woodcraft!)
2) Read Nicholson on line
3) Buy a copy of Schwarz' book (if for no other reason than to encourage the only guy giving serious thought to such subjects)
4) Add Gaynor's book to your personal WW library
5) Consider that form probably more often reflects use than geography
6) But most importantly, consider what sort of work you do, intend or wish to do, whether you'll ever need to transport your bench, and honestly assess your woodworking skill, budget, and time available for bench construction. And while you're considering all of that, build a Nicholson bench next weekend using Schwarz' book as a guide so you can get some woodworking done in the meantime.

— Adam Cherubini

The Many Advantages of the Nicholson bench

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 14:15:47 GMT

I hosted a sapfm chapter meeting in my tiny basement shop yesterday. My Nicholson bench provided comfortable theater seating for 5.

A walnut plank, supported by hold fasts, served as a comfortable and stylish foot rest. I pulled my workbench away from the wall and repositioned my CF powered worklights to illuminate and focus attention on the demonstration.

12 woodworkers participated in lively discussions and tried their hands at filing, planishing brass and steel, and filing and setting saw teeth. Despite the cramped conditions, a good time was had by all. I think whenever you have a chance to gather with fellow woodworkers, it's gonna be fun.

Speaking of which, we had a special surprise visit from author, instructor and Philadelphia windsor chair maker Jim Rendi. Jim is fantastic and it was a honor to have him join us.

This meeting has given me the confidence to try this again. I was afraid the shop would be too small and uncomfortable for a group of this size. But my collapsible Nicholson bench and a few throw cushions made all the difference. This is just another example of the many advantages of a long bench with hold fast holes on it's front!

— Adam

Tool Making

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 13:38:35 GMT

This weekend, I'm hosting a SAPFM get together. A few fellow period woodworkers are going to crowd into my tiny workshop and see how and why I make my own hand saws.

Of all the really esoteric things I do, making hand saws may top the list of esoterica. I get really wrapped around the proverbial axle by the intricacies of saw teeth, handle designs and blade shapes. I'm shamefully familiar with saw history, and the many permutations of modern saws and makers. Fortunately, my shop is tiny because I can;t imagine filling with woodworkers similar excited about hand saws.
br> But for me, tool making is a necessity. I can't generally buy what I need. And the attention I've paid to each little attribute of my hand saws is really just a continuation of what we all do as period woodworkers.

I suspect as we continue to move forward as a community that tool making will take on an increasing role in our work. Many of us may find it necessary to make tools. Others will undoubtedly find it necessary to rely on those who do. Whatever the case, better, more accurate work requires increasingly better and more accurate tools.

I don't think I could look you in the eye and tell that you I started making tools willingly. I did so begrudgingly. But its not been without its rewards and I can see how someone could get as addicted to tool making as I am to furniture making.

— Adam

Williamsburg Woodworking Conference Trip Report

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 22:06:41 GMT

This year's conference was a delightful departure from the so far typical furniture fare of Colonial Williamsburg's "Working Wood in the 18th Century" woodworking conference. This year, Williamsburg's interpreters teamed up with tool historians on both sides of the Atlantic to share with us their notions on Tools, Tool Chests, and Workbenches of the 18th century.

I attended the first session joined by several current and former interpreters from Pennsbury Manor. For me, the quiet conversations between the conference attendees are as interesting and educational as the presentations themselves.

Each year, I bemoan that fact that no videos or transcripts will be made available. As I sat in the gorgeous, packed yet comfortable auditorium, I couldn't help but feel privileged. This sense was heightened by the forced absence of my friend Paul and those of you who emailed me and really would have loved to attend but couldn't. But instead of continuing to bang a drum that know one cares to listen to, I'll only say this in consolation: I think the "back of the class" conversations and fellowship are so great and so useful, that a video just wouldn't be the same experience.

The conference began with short lectures by Jay Gaynor and Jane Rees. Jay talked about tools. Jane talked about tool storage. The most memorable bit for me was Jane's mention of the "bass" joiner's tool bags present in several period paintings of shops. I've been carrying a similar woven grass bag of the sort ladies take to the beach to Pennsbury Manor for several years. And I think for all those years, my friend Dave has been whistling at me. Finally, I am vindicated. As it turns out, English woodworkers, including Jane's Grandfather, have been carrying their tools not in cleverly constructed wooden totes but in "bass" bags for at least 2 centuries.

Jane Rees, along with her late husband Mark, wrote the fantastic introduction to "British Planemakers from 1700", "Christopher Gabriel...", and contributed to "The Toolchest of Benjamin Seaton". She's a fantastic scholar and valuable resource, having a breadth and depth of knowledge matched by few or none. Perhaps because of this, I was left wanting more from Jane. She did a good job presenting the evidence of tool storage and workbench placement. But I was hoping for a summary that explained the rationale behind such issues. Maybe its obvious, but it seems to me that tool chests are not primarily used to transport tools, but rather to safeguard them in a commercial shop that you don't own or live in. Like modern day auto mechanics, I suspect period craftsmen abhored lending or borrowing tools. Like modern day auto mechanics, having the right tool for the job can be a matter of maintaining one's livelihood. Like modern day auto mechanics, the tool chest and its contents were easily worth 6 months to a year's wages. So we see rural and family shops characterized by tool storage consisting of open shelves and racks on walls, like the Dominy shop. Urban commercial shops, like those depicted by Roubo can probably be characterized by rows of benches, left ends facing the light source, and the use of tool chests to store individual craftsmen's tools.

Thursday's conference began with a lecture by Jane on Benjamin Seaton. It’s important to note that neither the Seaton chest nor its contents were present. Somehow, I misunderstood "we'll be looking at the Seaton chest". We looked at pictures of the Seaton chest and Kaare Loftheim's informative reproduction. The main carcass is fairly typical. It has a nailed or screwed up bottom. The till is a bit more interesting. We speculated that the secret drawers were nothing more than a way to fill space behind the drawers, very likely shortened to allow their removal without removal of the till. I'm fairly convinced and Jane confirmed my beliefs that tills like Seaton's were not designed to be removed daily. But throughout the discussions, I failed to hear the Seaton chest placed in its proper context: It has many features we would come to see as typical of 19th c chests including its tall proportions, multi leveled till with drawers, and veneered interior. I can't help but question the appropriateness of using this chest for a "working wood in the 18th century" despite the date of its manufacture. If we could look into a third quarter of the 18th c commercial shop, I suspect we'd see chests that look more like blanket chests, long and low, and few simple tills and tools with unmatched handles. In short, I suspect we'd see something more like the Nixon chest.

My notes are a little sketchy, but I think late Thursday morning, Marcus Hanson And Ed Wright demonstrated the hammer veneer work on the till. This was a fantastic demonstration that I think would make a great 2-hour video. When I began volunteering in Pennsbury, I saw my role as technical. I felt I was able to build things with period tools, in an unheated shop without electricity. Talking to visitors, especially non-woodworkers, was clearly not my forte. But Williamsburg's Hay shop craftsmen are different. These guys are terrific woodworkers AND professional interpreters who are just plain fun to watch and listen to. While none of them are Underhill caliber, you can see that St. Roy is one of many folks in CW who are good at presenting information and making it fun.

Thursday afternoon, Garret Hack discussed workbenches. I had never met Garret before and I found him delightfully charming and down to earth. I was disappointed he didn't discuss 18th c workbenches though. In my opinion, there's something weird going on with FWW's participation at the conference. The FWW speakers don't seem to feel compelled to limit their discussions to Working Wood in the 18th century, which is after all, the generic title of the conferences and the reason many of us attend. I know some of the attendees felt stronger about this than I did. I liked Hack's presentation and felt the need to jot down several comments:

"[The workbench] is the most important tool in your shop."

"[It] influences the work that you do."

"[My workbench] represents me as a craftsman."

Friday featured Roy Underhill's presentation (driven by his macbook pro!). The opening slide is shown below:

Roy's presentation was on screw threads and it was everything one would expect from The Woodwright; It was hilarious and informative. A heckler (no it wasn't me, really) mentioned that this was the first time he'd ever seen Roy work and not cut himself. I had a similar comment in a PW article on Building Saw horses some years ago, and later regretted it. Now I see that mentioning cuts to Roy is a little like singing Roxanne to Sting or asking Ricky Gervais "Are you having a laugh?". So I was curious to take Roy's reaction. Would he be peeved or annoyed? Surely he wouldn't laugh like this is the first time he's heard that one. He responded quickly: "The Director kept yelling "Cut!" and I didn't know what he was talking about".

The presentation ended with a very cleverly set up joke of the sort only someone with Roy's superior intellect could muster. And as I finished my belly laugh with everyone else, a wash of disappointment came over me that would later characterize my feelings about the entire conference. Its was fun, but missing something. I felt Roy missed the opportunity to discuss the advantage (in my opinion superiority) of wooden vise screws that he'd just explained in detail how to build. It seemed like every lecture was great but with a few notable exceptions, needed a 5-minute summary or conclusion.

The conference closed with an informal poll indicating that more than half the audience was there for the first time. This made me wish more than ever that some of the lectures had a bit more resolution to them.

All said, I wasn't and have never been disappointed by the conference in Williamsburg. It was a great experience, as much for the fellowship as the lectures. You're going to leave the conference a better, more informed woodworker. So I recommend going and going back even if the last conference didn't meet 100% of your expectations.

Adam

P.S.
The annual woodworking conference in Williamsburg is like a Star Trek convention for period woodworkers. People dress up in funny clothes. You meet wonderful people who are strange in the same ways you are strange. Its validating. No one asks where you get the time to use hand tools or offers their ill-informed opinions on rococo style.

But as period woodworking geeks go, I'm probably the nerdiest. I have been working on my Mack Headley impersonation and fantasizing about Williamsburg trading cards. A typical card would have a picture of say, Kaare Loftheim on the front, and on the back his favorite tools, pitch and rake of his saws, and other fun facts like where he keeps his cabinetscrapers (anybody know?) and maybe a note worthy catch phrase like "dummy marks".