Craftsmen in Colonial Williamsburg prefer NOT to use antique tools. When asked they say things like "they aren't making any more of these". Besides the irony of that statement (CW is indeed making more of those), I believe preserving old tools by using them is generally a good thing.

Many tools see little wear and tear over a craftsman's life time. And the market for old tools as usable items has kept prices up, and old tools out of crash cans and worse, off the walls of restaurants or hanging like strange fruit from Cracker Barrel ceilings. (BTW, Yes, I know what "strange fruit" is and yes I do get nauseous seeing a pristine panel raiser hanging by wires dry wall screwed into it's otherwise perfect body.) The market for antique furniture has increased prices, saved more pieces than collectors have destroyed, and spawned a market for reproduction furniture makers like me. Not sure why tools are any different.

I don't generally collect old tools. I don't consider myself a tool collector, altho I have an admirable assortment of old tools, in many ways better and more complete than several museum exhibits I have seen. Generally the tools I buy are purchased with the intention to use.

I try to take a stewardly approach to using old tools. I only rebuild severely damaged tools and I'm careful about cleaning. I typically pass on tools that are very old, leaving those for collectors. But recently, I've been buying a few 18th c examples to study, possibly copy, and to keep them out of the hands of TGI Friday's decorators.

A recent flea market find is this pair of 5/16" mortisers.



Though undated, they exhibit all the characteristics we expect to see on 18th c mortise chisels. The blade shapes are rectangular and irregular in width. I've included an Issac Greaves 19th c mortiser for comparison. From the stamp I believe the Greaves is an early 19th c tool. Note that these are all 5/16" tools.

The bolsters are small and simply shaped.



One thing I thought was particularly interesting was that both chisels are 5/16" wide, a very common size for interior joinery, and both had identical makers' marks. The question of why they are together is interesting to me. I might speculate that they may have come from the same shop, having belonged to the master for the purpose of equipping apprentices or journeymen.



Though following the same basic design closely, the handles are individuals and slightly irregular. File marks from the shaping are in evidence.



I won't use these chisels. I'll put them aside for now. Though I don't usually buy tools I have no intention of using, I'm glad I bought these chisels. I think if you come across really old tools like this, it makes some sense to buy them. Like unwanted dogs at the animal shelter, the alternative may not be great for them.

In my opinion, using tools that are in good condition and that can be made to function without changing them is fine. But what about the older tools? A Kenyon dovetail saw was floating around Berea at the first Woodworking in America show. To truly be "study items" they should be available to a wider audience.

Joel has a section in his website entitled "Museum of woodworking tools". Maybe it's time we pool our collections and make an online Museum of Woodworking tools. Maybe Joel would host it? It's the sort of idea sapfm should probably act on but won't. Part of being stewardly is sharing these items with a broader audience. On online museum may be just the thing. Does anyone know if such a thing exists? I suspect it's a lot of work. But maybe this is worth talking about.

Adam

Monday, July 12, 2010 5:32:24 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [3] 

In my pursuit to learn about period furniture and furniture making, I employ a controversial approach called experimental archeology. Experimental Archeology involves the recreation of past events and relies on the assumption that if the conditions are correctly recreated, results of the experiment will be similar to past events.

In my woodworking, I typically attempt to set the back half of the equation equal, i.e., to reproduce a specific piece of furniture. On the input side of the equation are the tools and techniques I use. Typically, I’m trying to solve for the technique factor in the equation because this information is missing or ambiguous in the historical record and only implied in the archeology.

The reason Experimental Archeology is so controversial is that it is nearly impossible to accurately recreate the conditions, let alone the "soft" factors such as the values of the craftsmen, his understanding of the desires of his customer, etc. I’ve gotten as far as recreating the equipment used to sharpen tools (and gotten mixed results), and worked without electric light thinking such things would influence my results. Wearing period clothing (especially shoes) has influenced my sense of period technique as well.

My feeling is that a thorough understanding of period furniture isn’t possible without having had some hands-on experience. Separating features that were expedient from those that were intentional and labor intensive, help us understand the intentions of the builder, what he felt was important to his customer, and perhaps what may have been important (or unimportant) to the buying public. In my mind, understanding basic workshop practices enhances connoisseurship.



The double curve of the cockbeading on this piece is fairly difficult to produce. Much simpler would be a simple arch (or no cockbeading). So having done it (this is my copy of an original), I interpret this feature as something the builder (John Head) felt was worth the trouble. And I think I can see his point. I think it IS a little nicer than a single smooth arch would be.

Like history or archeology, experimental archeology has its place. But I wouldn’t bet that my findings are accurate. I’ve allowed my experiments (and some of yours) to guide me, lacking documented direction. And I’ve greatly enjoyed this aspect of my work. I’m also happy to recommend this approach to you. Only, I'd add the cautionary note not to be too convinced by your own results.

I believe that the tools and techniques I use influence the way my furniture looks. I’m not sure everyone agrees. But if you follow my logic, I would also say that our understanding of period furniture, being the product of our study of it, is influenced by the tools and techniques we used to learn about it. And that’s really what these 3 blogs have been about.

Adam

Friday, June 18, 2010 11:12:29 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [9] 

There are few "smoking gun" historical documents dating from the 18th century. Moxon’s "Mechanicks Exercises" was written in the late 17th century. Peter Nicholson’s "Mechanic’s Companion" was written in the early 19th century. The only source I know of dating from the 18th century is Roubo’s "L’Art du Mensuier".

These texts are both enlightening and frustrating. Moxon for example instructs his readers as to where to purchase good hand saws (Fosters Lane, London), but failed to clarify whether backed saws existed in his time. Roubo discusses saw filling but doesn’t specifically describe fleam, the feature of a saw tooth that improves its efficiency in cutting across the grain.



These specific sources get a lot of attention on the internet and in the woodworking press, but there are other sources just as worthy of our attention. Period documents such as period newspapers, estate inventories, account books, and court records are all helpful.

Finding these sorts of documents isn’t easy (which is undoubtedly why we don’t hear more about them). I find them referenced in academic books of the sort you may find in the bookshop in Winterthur. These sorts of books, often written by Winterthur curators, typically include bibliographies that will lead to the original sources. Winterthur has an excellent library, which is open to the public. If you don’t live near Winterthur or can’t visit, inter-library loans are possible.

Even vague inventory entries such as "24 Turkey work’d chaires" provide us with important information. "Turkey work’d" pertains to the upholstery used on the seat. The value listed may indicate these were what we call dining chairs as opposed to fully upholstered "elbow" chairs. The number of chairs is also interesting, giving us a sense for their use decoratively as well as a feel for the work of period chairmakers.

Period images are another worth while resource.



A plate from Thomas Chippendale’s 1754 "The Gentleman and Cabinet Maker’s Director" can be useful source of information about period furniture. It even includes some specific dimensions of furniture. But these illustrations are far from project plans. Moreover, plates such as this one may have been intended to show how different design elements can be mixed and matched. Note the different carvings on each chair’s back, knees, and feet.



Paintings can be a helpful source of information about period furniture. Here we see very restrained versions of Chippendale’s chairs above. The context in which they are depicted give us a sense for the use of the objects. In this instance, these "dining" sort of chairs seem to be in use as "occasional" chairs for what appears to be an art lesson.

Most big art museums have websites including a sampling of their collections. The image above came from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The use of non-period sources (earlier or later)can be helpful or extremely misleading. The 18th century saw great changes in the woodworking "state of the art". While English workers tended to be quite conservative and traditional, tools, products, and markets changed throughout the century. Understanding specifically what non-period data applies to the 18th c and what does not is very tricky. Such things are debated in curatorial circles. We’ve even had our own debates about it!

I don’t want to put you off non-period sources. They are essential in our understanding of period furniture. Like any source, me, an historical source, or even an archeological source like a piece of furniture, we have to question what we learn and try to fit it like a jig-saw puzzle piece. Some pieces just won’t fit. My advice is not to force them.

I don't think it's reasonable to choose between an archeological approach and an historical one or suggest that one is better than the other. But to be honest, I'm not convinced that folks who lack access to the archeology are getting the full picture. Likewise, if one's access to original artifacts is limited, historical study can fill in to some extent. But the lack of real specificity in the historical record makes hanging one's hat on any document really tricky. Bottom line: Those of you who travel to woodworking classes might benefit from using some of your woodworking education budget visiting museums or period homes.

I think I have one more thing to say on this subject before I put it to bed.

Adam

Thursday, June 17, 2010 9:56:54 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [0] 

I’ve been surfing various wood forums lately and I’ve seen a pleasing amount of discussion on period furniture. As all of you know, you hear contradictory things on the internet. A recent discussion about 18th c drawer construction still has my head spinning.

Seeing Allan Breed’s recent post, originating from a sapfm forum post made me think about how we learn about period furniture. Breed presents an archeological view of period furniture. I put a lot of stock in that approach. And I wonder how, without the sort of access Allan has and has enjoyed over the years, anyone can be so certain about how furniture was made or even what it looks like.

When we think about archeology we often conjure the image of Howard Carter, digging up treasures in Egypt, and racing them back to the British Museum in the dark of night. Well, if that’s not your image of archeologists, it’s George Lucas’ at least. Of course, that’s not what archeologists do (now). Most spend their time analyzing the field reports of others. So strictly speaking, we who examine period furniture or review the findings of others, are essentially engaging in archeology.

As it applies to us, I include the study of period tools, shops, tool chests, etc as all falling under the archeological umbrella. These various objects contribute to the formation of an historical narrative, created by an informed understanding of the objects, their use, etc. And that last bit, “an informed understanding of the objects…” is where I see us coming in. I saw evidence of scratched layout lines on old furniture, and found evidence of period layout knives. I later found an old layout or striking knife and found it useful in dimly lit shops. So the knife became part of that narrative that I used to suggest a way of working to scribed lines. That narrative informed my sense of the use of wooden try squares. Hopefully you know those stories.

The big problem with the archeological approach to learning about period furniture is that so few of us have good access to the artifacts. As you'll read in the sapfm post linked above, when we encounter period furniture first hand, our impressions of it often change.

We face the additional challenge that there are few really good field reports. Auction or museum catalogs are often poor sources of detailed information about construction. Their aim is typically to elucidate art history and they can be VERY good for that. But I’ve seen photos of pieces in the Philadelphia Art Museum where the photos almost look doctored. The originals just don’t look that good in person. In my mind, this makes the observations of Peter Follansbee, Allan Breed, or Mack Headley to name a few all the more helpful.

Long live the furniture archeologists! In my next blog, I'll take a look at the historical approach. I don't mean to spoil the ending. Of course we need both approaches. I'll write more about that next time and I'll look forward to your comments.

Adam

Monday, June 14, 2010 4:17:25 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [2] 

I really love the bold style of William and Mary furniture. Unlike the styles that preceded it, William and Mary features modern construction techniques. Chests and drawers were dovetailed together. Thinner pieces of wood were used. Drawers were no longer side hung. Nails were less prominent. In my mind, William and Mary style furniture represents the beginning of the widespread use of carcass joinery as we know it today.

For the beginning period woodworker, it's especially attractive in it's simplicity. The beauty of William and Mary style furniture typically lies in it's basic proportions, sometimes decorated only with simple scroll work or a scratched double arch bead molding. American examples tend to be more stylistically restrained than the finest English work. English builders incorporated more moldings and often used decorative veneers. Using oak as their base material and good carcass joinery techniques, these pieces are still plentiful and shockingly inexpensive in the UK.

Some pieces also featured what I consider a Dutch or Northern European style of using starkly contrasting woods. Ebonized Oak and lighter woods were used to provide a bold contrast that may have been especially pleasing in the dimly lit, smoky interiors of that time. Today these pieces are uniformly brown, their contrast lost.

In the mid 18th century, new styles built on the success of William and Mary furniture, keeping the basic proportions, and structures, but replacing carved legs with turned, and adding superficial carved elements.

By the time Chippendale's Rococo style came along, tables and chairs no longer bore any resemblance to William and Mary furniture. Double curved fronts, dripping with carved foliage, stood on legs on which no flat or square surface was evident. But underneath the carvings, tables and chairs were still mortised and tenoned together. Chests and drawers were still dovetailed boxes. I would say that from the early 18th century to it's conclusion, no new furniture forms were introduced.

I think if you can see the relationships between the styles and separate those relationships in terms of structure and style, you'll be better able to reproduce furniture or use potions of traditional furniture in your modern furniture. For me, I see Chippendale type furniture as really just William and Mary with carving added. And truly that is exactly what it is. This isn't to reduce the majesty of the entire Rococo style to just a moonier revision. It's much more than that. But from the builder's perspective, it's still just dovetailed parts, a couple small mortises and tenons and occasionally a frame and panel door.

I've written this before but I guess it deserves repeating; If you want to reproduce late 18th century furniture, it's wise to at least examine early pieces. So I'm on this journey (which is why I'm writing about this). I'm going to do more pieces from later in the 18th c. And there are a few skills I need to add to my repertoire. For mid century work, carving is probably the biggy. I don't need to rethink how I construct furniture, but I need the skills to affect the ornamentation.

Adam

Sunday, April 25, 2010 10:49:11 AM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [9] 

Through no fault of my own, I was seperated from my laptop containing several interesting blogs about African American Woodworkers. Now that we are united, I feel the month is gone and the moment lost. But I do want to say a few things about Black History Month before I leave it until next year.

I'm not sure if I share any recent African ancestry. And tho I grew up in an all black neighborhood, I have no claim to anything particularly related to African Americans. That said I feel a pride in these woodworkers and an emotional attachment to them and their stories as if they were my own blood relatives. At risk of pandering to Schwarz (who I suspect will be all over this), I'm going to have to label my relationship to these fellow woodworkers as a "wood kinship". These guys (our wood kin) are ours just like you and I are related not just by what we do, but how we view the world, solve problems etc.

I have more and better stories for next year. African American woodworkers' stories are a patchwork quilt of woodworking lore and history certainly deserving of our time. Until then Dennis Heyza has compiled a fine webpage on the subject. I'm sure he'd appreciate your additions, and comments. Thanks Dennis for sharing your work with us.

Adam

Saturday, April 24, 2010 4:34:45 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)    Comments [2] 

John Hemings started life as an enslaved carpenter at Monticello, home of President Thomas Jefferson. His Mother Betty, the daughter of a slave ship Captain and an unknown African woman, belonged to Jefferson’s father in law (John Wayles). After the father in law’s third wife died, Wayles took Betty to his bed. She bore several children by her master, including the now famous Sally Hemings. When the father in law died, Jefferson inherited Betty Hemings and her children including Sally, and James, who would become Jefferson’s French chef.

Shortly after her arrival in Monticello, Betty gave birth to John Hemings with an Irish joiner employed by Jefferson. According to Monticello’s website, John worked as an “out-carpenter” felling trees and mending fences. This was rough, crude work (that many of us would probably enjoy). But at the time it was a tough job, befitting a slave. We're not sure how it happened; It may be that his father trained him, but John learned the trade of a joiner. He later trained under (another?) Irish Joiner James Dinsmore (at Monticello 1798-1809) and it’s likely the two completed a good deal of Monticello’s fine interiors.

After his term as President, Jefferson turned his attention to furnishing Monticello. Strapped for cash and stuck with expensive taste, Jefferson commissioned John Hemings to make a variety of high quality furniture. Jefferson’s tastes seem to blend what we sometimes call “plain and neat” Southern Chippendale and French furniture. It’s believed that Hemings made several “Campeachy Chairs” for Jefferson.



Campeachy Chair. Attributed to John Hemmings. From Monticello's website.

When Dinsmore left Monticello in 1809, he inventoried the joinery. Contents can be seen here.

Archeolgocial excavation of slave quarters in Monticello have suggested that Jefferson’s slaves may have had access to some niceties such as porcelin and other domestic comforts. I hasten to add that such indications in no way invalidate the harshness of life for enslaved people. But they do suggest that enslaved Africans, at least in Monticello, might have experienced a wide range of social status and life style. I don’t know of specific archeological finds associated with John Hemings, but I expect that he may have lived a very different life from the average enslaved farm hand.

The business relationship between Hemings and Jefferson is not entirely clear to me. I believe I recall hearing that Hemings was paid the profit for the work he performed for Jefferson. Jefferson owned the man and may not have felt it was necessary to pay him his labor. Keep in mind that Jefferson fed, housed, and clothed the man, built his shop and paid for all of his tools. His labor wasn’t exactly free to Jefferson. If it is true that Jefferson compensated his slave John Hemings for his work, this complicates my understanding of slavery and precisely what folks involved in the practice thought about it.

To further complicate things, note that John was only 1/4 African. His half sister Sally was taken for caucasian in Paris. By our definition, we may not consider John to be “black”. But I’ve included him in my version of Black (woodworking) History month because he illustrates the many ambiguities of African slavery in the 18th c and offers us an example of the breadth of diversity within the enslaved population.

Upon his death, Jefferson freed John Hemings. Moreover, Jefferson sought to allow Hemings the right to remain in the state of Virginia (Va state law insisted that freed slaves leave the state within 12 months or face re-enslavement). I always felt that Jefferson, said to be “undemonstrative” by (his son) Madison Hemings, may have felt a special connection to John. He was Sally’s half brother. And I think men bond when they work together. I picture Jefferson enthused about the furniture John was making, the repairs, and improvments made to Monticello. We know he loved architecture and design. Perhaps it was this relationship that influenced his decision to free John. It also may have been pragmatic. As a skilled artisan, John would have had opportunities in the free world that a beloved field hand or house servant would not. In short, a freed African woodworker had a better chance of survival than a farm saavy field hand. And that says a lot about our craft.

Adam

Wednesday, February 10, 2010 7:00:36 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)    Comments [3] 

Picture from Joel's website (linked below)

When I first began collecting antique wooden planes, the name Cesar Chelor was an oft told inside joke. Chelor was a mid 18th c planemaker. He was owned by New England planemaker Francis Nicholson. When Nicholson died in 1753, he freed Chelor, providing him with land, and tools.

"As to my Negroman Caesar Chelo[r] considering his faithful service, his tender care, & kind & Christian carriage I do set him free to act for himself in the world & I do will and bequeath unto him his bed and beding, his shift and clothing, his bench & common bench tools, a set of chisels, one vice, one sithe & tackling & ten actes of land to be set of to him at the end of my woodland…& one third part of my timber."

From Joel's website (thanks Joel)

Chelor continued making planes, stamping them with his own name. Today, these rare planes are among the best known and most valuable antique wooden planes on the market. A single plane can be worth thousands of dollars. Finding one among a box of dirty planes with rusty irons is the hope of every collector. They are the proverbial diamond in the ash can. Collectors often joke that they bought a box of duds for $5 only to find a Chelor (gloat gloat). Or that uninitiated collectors who got some woodies in a box lot with a crispy (good condition) Stanley 45 should send all those marked "Chelor" to famed internet tool dealer Todd Hughes, who will know how best to dispose of them (selling them for thousands of dollars).

For this reason, Chelor deserves the honored top billing for Woodworking Black History Month. The story of his bondage, freedom, and subsequent business success is such an American tale. The best part about it is that it reminds us that Black History is really American history. Chelor deserves the attention he gets because he reminds us that a hard working woodworker can overcome any adversity.

To learn more about Chelor, google him or start here at my friend Joel's website.

Adam
P.S. Note the use of the term "shift" in Nicholson's will. I believe this was the word used for the long (often unisex) shirt worn by people of the 18th c and before. I've used this term before and had people look at me funny. Not sure when "shirt" took over for "shift".

Saturday, February 06, 2010 10:43:35 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)    Comments [9] 

As you all know, February is Black History month. School kids will learn about the likes of George Washington Carver and Dr. Charles Drew. If they are really lucky, they will get to hear stories about the Tuskegee Airmen. I got to meet some of them when I was in the service. Their presentation was one of the most gripping and moving I’ve ever heard.

Let’s blame it on our collective ignorance or lack of interest, but by mid month, shamefully, our kids are learning about the likes of Eddie Murphy. So while I’m in roll-up-my-sleeves-and-help mode, I thought I’d like to add a few days worth of Black History that you might find interesting.

I know there are some who resent Black History Month. And I might be convinced that it can be counterproductive as a political tool. But my interest isn’t political, it’s woodworking. I think you'll like what I have to offer on the subject.

In fact, for me it's just a chance to delve into the personal lives of folks who lived long ago. Hand tool woodworkers inevitably end up questioning the intentions of woodworkers long passed. We know what tools they had (pretty much). What we want to know is how they used them and what were their inetntions with them. The more we understand of the lives they led, the better off we are (as interpretters of their sensibilities and work).

Stay tuned!

Adam

Thursday, February 04, 2010 7:02:20 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)    Comments [7] 

A few months ago, I read about Schwarz' ambitious teaching schedule here. I've taught a few classes and enjoyed them thoroughly. Sometimes I feel a bit guilty since I always feel as though I learn as much or more than the students.

In a recent class, I got to see the performance of a wide range of hand planes working along side of my cheap, antique, wooden planes. I don't want to sound like a curmudgeon, but I DO want to be clear: I continue to be unimpressed by metal jack planes, the bevel up planes, and indeed most new planes FOR THE WORK I DO. With the machines switched off, I need to remove wood quickly and easily. And my planes haven't seen their equal in any classes, conferences, or demos I've seen or conducted.

I'm looking for a plane that has a slippery sole, a cambered iron (pretty sure you can do this to any plane, but BU blade geometries will be different), that is light weight and holds it's adjustment through rough work. Ditto, work benches need to have super stiff (and I prefer wide) planing stops (loose bench dogs designed for tail vises just don't seem to cut it).

In my shop, and I think ANY shop without machines, jack planes need to remove wood fast. I'm looking for shavings that are .060" or thicker. You should be able to remove an 1/8" of pine from a 1"x6"x3' in a matter of minutes.

I think there are things you can do to a metal plane to improve it for the functionality I seek. Waxing the sole really helps. Cambering the iron helps. With so many replacement irons on the market, it makes sense to buy a spare and experiment with camber. Of course, this will necessitate you learn to hone free hand. You can adjust throats by moving the frog. You can even file the mouth open a little. But this is an awful lot of work.

Wooden planes seem to offer many objective advantages. Their irons are always quite thick, their beds extend all the way to their soles, they are liight weight, and offer low friction.

Maybe you'd be better off just buying an old woody from ebay, or your local antique shop. The plane you buy will be one less plane for TGI Friday's walls or Cracker Barrel's ceiling of shame.

Most importantly, if you want a sense for the capability of hand tools, you need to focus on tools that remove wood quickly. Your saws, planes, and chisels need to be capable of removing great amount of wood. This is a different value then that held by manufacturers and tool reviewers. We need to do something about that.

I have this dream of teaching hand tool only classes. But I continue to be concerned that the project I want to do will be too difficult for folks who lack tools like mine. I'm currently trying to wrap my head around supplying future students with full kits of 18th c style tools. Like most other things I do, the cost is insanely prohibitive. But that hasn't stopped me thus far.

I'll write more about this in the future, but you can help by thinking about how you remove large amounts of stock and how long it really takes you. I think most guys are using machines to prepare stock and just finishing the boards with hand planes. This "hybrid" approach (hybrid is probably the wrong word) has skewed manufacturers and users values to think of all planes as essentially smoothers. This approach is limiting what we are capable of, what classes I can teach, and what tools our kids will be able to buy. Seeing good woodworkers with expensive planes struggle to do what my planes can do was a real eye opener.

Adam

Sunday, January 24, 2010 12:15:16 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)    Comments [15]