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 Friday, March 09, 2007
Evolution of a Woodworker Part 2
This is the second part of Evolution of a Woodworker. (Don’t bother to look for the first of the series. Like every great trilogy should, I’m starting in the middle.)
Once I decided to turn my obsession of building furniture into my profession, I needed to select the style for which I felt the most passion, and with which I was the most comfortable building. That was an easy call at the time. If you directed me into the shop to build any piece I wanted, it would be Shaker. The Shaker lines, philosophy and simplicity of design made this the place I – as well as many woodworkers – started.
 I began with smaller projects that stood the test of time, both in the antique world and the reproduction-furniture world. One of my earliest pieces is a hanging shelf that is the “I Can Do That” project for the upcoming June 2007 issue of Popular Woodworking. As my confidence and skills improved, more complicated Shaker pieces came into my range. I built a number of cupboards that continued to gain in size and complexity, but never really got interested in the Shaker chests of drawers. I was pushing myself to grow as a woodworker – something that we all need to do. If you’re not moving forward, you’re losing ground.
I visited an antique show at the Hancock Shaker Village and found the “holy grail” of Shaker craftsmanship. Walking the second floor of the round stone barn, I was drawn to a Shaker Sewing Desk and was determined to add that piece to my portfolio. When I built my first sewing desk – in my opinion the most interesting piece of all Shaker craftsmanship – I knew I was ready to move to a new furniture style.
That style was Queen Anne. At the beginning, I was scared of cabriole legs. I thought it better to purchase legs than to make them in the shop. Finally I stepped up to the plate – or band saw, as it were – and cut the curvy profile from a chunk of tiger maple.
Boy was I steamed. I had spent a few years in the shop anxiously studying the process, aggravated over my conceptual inability to create this mainstay of Queen Anne design only to find out how simple the task was. All you need to do is follow the lines while cutting at the band saw. The rest – shaping and fine-tuning – was defined with the cut.
 No stopping me now. I built Queen Anne furniture that also ran through the “bigger and bolder with each piece” process until I reached a bonnet-top high chest of drawers. Stop! I started studying the piece from the base to the top – just the way you want someone’s eyes to travel as they study your work to judge its worthiness.
No problem with the legs. Been there, done that. Of course there are plenty of drawers and hand-cut dovetails to go with them. I could handle that (although there was a significant turning point in my dovetailing that I’ll save for a future entry). But, cast way at the top was a broken-arch pediment, and lurking on that pediment was a gooseneck moulding – a handy bit of carving work in the 18th century; I wondered if I was up to the task.
By now you know that I’m not the “hand-tool guy” – so I turned to the router to aid in making those mouldings. I had a set of bits made to match the desired profile and completed the gooseneck with a little carving. Add in a fan or two that also caused me to face the monster head on, and I was off to the races. There wasn’t a Queen Anne piece that I didn’t feel I could conquer. Time to slide into the next period.
That period, for me, was Federal. I was – and still am – captivated by the mixing and matching of hardwoods that this period demands, and the bits of veneer that draw you into the work. I like the flamboyant nature of this design. This time, I started at what I consider the apex – the designs of John and Thomas Seymour.
In my first book, “Fine Furniture for a Lifetime” (Popular Woodworking Books), I included the Seymour sideboard or “Mixingboard” (a piece on which folks would mix alcoholic beverages). When the sideboard was completed, it took my breath away. Not to sound conceited, but I was in awe when I finished the piece – so much so that I have this piece in my house today, and always will. That’s something that doesn’t happen often because most woodworkers want to improve their work, and thus find faults with everything they’ve built. If asked to build a piece a second time, most would make at least a few changes. This is one of the very few pieces I’ve made on which I wouldn’t change a thing.
While this was my initial foray into Federal design, it wasn’t the most fun piece I’ve built. That honor goes to the Baltimore Card Table in Popular Woodworking (issue #148). Figuring the blocking of the apron and how to add the stringing to that apron was great fun. This piece is also in my house – this time at my wife’s insistence.
This was my path through different furniture periods and designs. I still enjoy going back to the early styles that first captured my attention, but if you were to ask me which piece I’d build in the shop today, the answer would be quite different than it was some 15 years ago.
What’s next? The first part of the “Evolution of a Woodworker” trilogy. Bet you can’t wait! — Glen D. Huey
Friday, March 09, 2007 9:44:31 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00) 
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A Dovetail a Day
From the February 2007 issue of Popular Woodworking magazine.I was on our local swim team as a child, and I was an embarrassment to my pool, my parents and mammals in general. Perhaps the coach kept me around to make the youngest swimmers (Team Minnow) feel better about their dog-paddling. Or perhaps my artless splashing lulled competing teams into complacency before a swim meet. One summer day my mother dropped me off at the pool, and as she drove off I discovered that none of my friends was there. I had the entire day alone before me. I got in the pool and messed around a bit. As boredom set in I swam a couple laps of breaststroke. After a few laps I wondered if I could stretch my hands forward more. I then wondered if I could tuck my legs in tighter after a kick. Three hours later my mom called me from the pool side to go home. The next day was a swim meet, and I was in the 50-yard breaststroke against kids who beat me every summer. The starting gun fired, and 50 yards later I looked around. I was alone. I had won by an enormous margin. It was my first and last victory in the pool. You know where this story is going. Now I’ve always been a fair dovetailer. I cut my first set by hand 13 years ago and made decent joints. But I was slow. One day the memory of that swim meet returned, and I decided to try the same approach with my dovetailing. I vowed to cut a dovetail every day for a month. That night I prepped a few boards of cherry and poplar. I laid out my tools on the bench and cut my first set – three tails into three pins. It took more than an hour. I then cut the joint free of the two boards, marked the date on the corner and put the joint on the windowsill. I left all my tools out on the bench; they were set and ready for day two. The next day, before I cut the second set, I picked up the joint from the night before. Under scrutiny, it wasn’t as nice as I’d remembered. My saw had crossed the baseline here. I had split one pin slightly there. I cut my next set and tried to avoid crossing the joint’s baseline. I tried to ensure the pins on the ends were cut straight. And I made the half pins on the ends a bit wider. I cut that joint free, dated it and sat it on the sill. After a few more nights I realized that I was just repeating my blunders. Split pins were plaguing me. So I sawed even closer to my knife lines on the end pins. The next day, no splits. After two weeks, my dovetails looked tighter. Then I changed their spacing. Then I started to pick up speed and arrange my tools on my benchtop so I wasn’t fumbling for the chisel. After 30 days, I was 10 times the dovetailer I was when I began. The operation felt natural. When the 30 days was up, however, I was worried about stopping my experiment. Would I regress? That had happened when I was on the swim team. I had stopped swimming my practice laps and never won another race. But this story has a happy ending. Once I conquered the dovetail, I used the joint more often in my work. I also began sawing and chiseling more in general, which then reinforced my dovetailing. So many times we learn woodworking on the fly as we build something. We get our skills just good enough to accomplish that project and then we move on. It’s rare to get out a board and just saw it. Or plane it. Or mortise it with our router. This method might seem like wasting time but it has resulted in some of my most enjoyable shop time. And now I’m thinking that “Inlay a Day” has a nice ring to it. — Christopher Schwarz
Friday, March 09, 2007 7:23:10 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Tool Review: The Little Victor Plane
Lee Valley Tool's latest plane is turning a lot of heads this week. Most people are amazed at its small size (3-3/16" long), its premium features (an investment cast steel body) and its attractive price ($29.50 until May 15, 2007). Add to that list the fact that it's made in Canada and you can just imagine that a small fleet of these guys are crossing the St. Lawrence River as I type this.
This week I took a look at the plane, a close reproduction of a plane first made by Leonard Bailey in the 19th century as part of his line of Victor Planes. And though this new plane is a copy, it also is a first in many ways for Lee Valley Tools. It is the first of a new line of tools that will be reproductions and will not carry the company's Veritas imprint. Robin Lee of Lee Valley Tools says the new line of tools has yet to be named.
The plane is also the first tool offered for sale (perhaps by anyone) that has a sole that's lapped flat with a rotary lapping machine. This remarkable machine gets stuff really flat (±0.0002" or better), and Lee Valley Tools/Veritas has been lapping its plane irons with great success this year.
With this plane, called the "Little Victor," both the sole and iron are lapped flat. This feature is not marketing hype; it is one of the most serious advancements in recent years in making hand tools easier to use. What does this mean to you? You'll be able to set this plane up and use it in less than 10 minutes after you take it out of the box.
Our Little Victor arrived in the morning. At about 3:30 p.m. I took it to the shop and started lapping the unbeveled face flat of the iron. I took one stroke on a #1,000-grit waterstone and took a look to see how much work was ahead of me.
I was done. I was so astonished that I took the iron around to show to the other editors (there was some eye-rolling I assure you).
So I put it on the #4,000-grit stone and took four strokes. I took a look at my progress. Again. I was already done. The back was up to an acceptable polish for work. But hey, since the process had only taken three minutes so far I went all the way to #8,000 grit. That took eight strokes. I flipped the iron over and put a secondary bevel on the edge (the high-carbon steel iron comes ground at 30°; I put a 5° secondary bevel on it).
Minutes later I dropped the iron into the plane's body and went to work, spending the rest of the day using the tool for a variety of chores – flushing pegs, trimming joints flush, chamfering edges.
The way you set the iron is ingenious and simple. The iron is wedged in the body at four points: a machined area up by the mouth, two steel ribs on the sidewalls of the tool and a rotary knob under the iron. There's no depth adjustment for the iron (what do you want for $30?), but the tool is simple to set if you know how.
Lay the tool on a flat surface and drop the iron in the tool. Use two fingers to press the iron down against the mouth. This will keep the iron square in the mouth. The depth of cut is determined by how much pressure you use at the mouth. More pressure equals a heavier cut. Then use two more fingers to tighten up the rotary knob. Check your work on a scrap.
The plane works well one-handed or two-handed. My only complaint about the tool is that the back of the iron bites into your palm in some applications. Al Frampton (who also has one of these planes) came up with a novel solution that I'll have to try. Why not ship the plane with a shorter iron? I suspect one reason the length is key is that the iron wouldn't fit into the common commercial honing guides if it were much shorter. Bottom line: The comfort of the tool isn't as big a deal with a tool that will see short bursts of use – if a bench plane had this issue I'd be concerned. 
Oh and Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick had one more request when she picked up the tool: She wants one, but in blue.
— Christopher Schwarz
Wednesday, March 07, 2007 9:43:34 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Monday, March 05, 2007
Japanese Planing Contest Winners
Japanese tool expert and merchant Harrelson Stanley spent a month late last fall trekking through the country in his motor home to teach his hand sharpening techniques and hold planing contests for the students. (You can find out more about Japanese tools, planing contests and Harrelson's sharpening technique at his web site.)
Congratulations to all the winners. We've listed them listed below, along with the location of the event.
Chet Kloss
Woodcraft, Livonia, Mich.
George R. Snyder
Woodcraft, Sterling Heights, Mich.
Dan Kimball
Woodcraft, Ft. Wayne, Ind.
Michael Homan
Woodcraft, Woodridge, Ill.
Megan Travers
Chicago School of Violin Making, Skokie, Ill.
John Arthur
Woodcraft, Palatine, Ill.
Gene Goetz
Woodcraft, Milwaukee, Wis.
Glen Koopmans
Woodcraft, Appleton, Wis.
Ernest Salanoa
Woodcraft, Spokane, Wash.
Steve Elliott
Woodcraft, Seattle, Wash.
Ray Gillson
Woodcraft, Portland, Ore
Sam Prather
Woodcraft, Santa Rosa, Calif.
Cherie Hargis
Woodcraft, Dublin, Calif.
Christopher Pereda
Woodcraft, Stanton, Calif.
Mike Warath
Woodcraft, Albuquerque, N.M.
Sam Pearson
Woodcraft, Ft. Worth, Texas
Michael Fontane
Woodcraft, Addison, Texas
Joe Travieso
Woodcraft, San Antonio, Texas
Patty Lovelady
Woodcraft, Houston, Texas
Robert Harman
Woodcraft, Baltimore, Md.
Tom Ownsby
Woodcraft, Wilmington, Del.
J.P. McIntyre
Woodcraft, Norwalk, Conn.
— Megan Fitzpatrick
Monday, March 05, 2007 2:06:29 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Wednesday, February 28, 2007
ICDT: My View
 For those of you who aren’t aware of this acronym, ICDT stands for “I Can Do That” –articles that teach readers how to build projects with a basic set of tools and materials from the big-box stores. This column has been in every issue of Popular Woodworking (PW) since June 2006. It’s a column, I must admit, that I never read before I started working here. I thought it was beneath my woodworking abilities (for beginners only) and that the time spent reading it would never be recouped.
I would thumb the pages and wonder why the magazine wasn’t chock-full of projects that required readers to push the limits of their skills (like those from that other magazine) – projects that paid homage to the blessed dovetail joint, thrived on mortise and tenons and would make me dig deep into my bag of tricks.
Then I joined the PW staff and I had to read the column – they were paying me to do so (I know, I still can’t believe I get paid to do this job!).
Well, put down the carving tools, back away from the dovetail saw and stop chopping that mortise. I found a truth in woodworking and I’m about to share it with you.
 You do not have to make every piece that comes from your shop a monument – a museum quality selection that’ll be here in 200 years. There are times when we need to look at simpler projects with basic construction processes. Relax. Complete a project that builds confidence or just soothes the stress that comes from constant, high-end work.
Just as I joined the magazine, I also agreed to build four projects for an ICDT book that will be out in October, 2007. I built a coffee table, a game table, a small hanging cupboard and a chair. Others built a number of pieces too. Each one follows the “rules” explained in the ICDT Manual (a free download at ICanDoThatExtras.com).
As I finished each piece, I stepped back and realized just how much enjoyment I received from the project. I was able to let the creative side of my brain go to work and let the analytical side rest. No fancy joinery; the pocket screw covers that area. No milling lumber; the stores took care of that. I needed simply to cut pieces to length and occasionally rip something, then assemble and finish the project.
I found that getting into simple projects made woodworking even more fun. Getting back to my roots was refreshing. And the projects look great, if I do say so myself. I’d certainly rather build a set of ICDT chairs for my house than purchase machine-manufactured chairs offered by a huge conglomerate.
So, for those of you think like I did: Jump down from that high horse and look into this idea. For those of you just starting out in woodworking: Welcome. As you improve your skills and move up in project difficulty, remember your roots. And remember, how fun and satisfying ICDT projects can be.
I’m not the only one to discover this. The ICDT idea is growing (as you can tell from the upcoming book) and by summer’s end there will be a web site dedicated to the I Can Do That philosophy. I expect this to grow and I’m all for it.
– Glen Huey
Wednesday, February 28, 2007 11:46:16 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Monday, February 26, 2007
Year of the Workbench: Old Designs Worth Reviving
When it comes to finding better ways of working wood, it usually helps to look at the newest technology – and the oldest.
Many of the challenges we face in our woodworking have been solved before by woodworkers who are long gone. And while a degree of that wisdom is buried with them, some of it was written down. That’s why I delve into old books on woodworking, carpentry and joinery (Google Books has been a boon) to immerse myself in a time when working with wood was a common profession.
What I’ve learned is surprisingly useful in a modern shop – it’s not just hand-tool wisdom. There are layout, joinery and case-construction tricks there that haven’t been published 20 times in every darn woodworking magazine.
Recently, I’ve become enamored with a workbench design from the August 1882 edition of “Carpentry and Building” magazine, which was dug up for me by Gary Roberts, an expert in woodworking ephemera.
The dominant style of workbench design these days is the Continental style, which is what you see for sale in the catalog and woodworking stores. But the world of workbenches used to be more diverse. And the old styles of workbenches were better at holding your wood so you could cut it and shape it.
This design was submitted to the magazine by “W.A.Y” of Pierce’s Landing, Penn. The bench designer said he had been using it for three years and it had given “entire satisfaction.” After poring over the details of the bench, I can see why.
The drawing shown in the magazine isn’t perfect – I think that some of the angles are a bit off. But the text and the illustration together will give you a pretty good idea about how the bench works. Here are the construction details:
The Top: It’s 4” thick, 18” wide (plus a 9”-wide tool well) and 10’ 3”-long. The top is made of alternating strips of walnut and ash, glued and nailed together. The height of the benchtop is 33” from the floor. The benchdogs are 1-1/2” in from the front edge of the benchtop and are 3” apart.
The Legs: These are tricky; all four are tenoned into the top. The leg behind the leg vise is 4” x 5”. It is plumb to the front of the benchtop but it is angled in as shown. The three other legs are 3” x 5” material. The rear leg behind the leg vise is angled in two directions (like a Windsor chair leg). The front leg by the tail vise is plumb and square – straight up and down. The rear leg behind the tail vise is angled only in one direction.
Why are the rear legs angled in? Many English-influenced benches I’ve seen do this. It allows them to be tenoned into the benchtop and yet be flush with the back of the tool well. This allows the bench to sit tightly against a wall and (according to some sources) resist racking forces. I think it’s probably more complicated than it has to be.
But what this bench does that few modern benches can claim to do, is to make it easy to work on the ends, edges and faces of boards, no matter what tool (power or hand) you are holding. Look it over and let us know what you think. This bench offends most modern sensibilities, but I think it’s a winner.
— Christopher Schwarz
Monday, February 26, 2007 10:32:47 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Thursday, February 22, 2007
How To: Install a Half-mortise Lock
I’m in the finishing stages of a piece of furniture, my first so-called “brown furniture” piece (not Shaker or Arts & Crafts), since I began with Popular Woodworking magazine. It's a chest and it has two half-mortise locks. Installing a half-mortise lock used to give me fits. I’d end up with the keyhole off center, the lock plate set too deep, or the selvedge set below the surface of the drawer front or door edge. Over time, I’ve developed a series of routing steps that result in a great fit each time. The best tip I can give you here is to use a sharp, small-radius router bit (1/4"). A bit this size allows easy freehand guiding of the router or trimmer.  Begin installing a half-mortise lock by finding the center of the piece (unless you plan to have the lock off center). You may be interested to know that the lock’s key pin is not centered in the lock. I found that out the hard way! So make sure that you place the pin at the center and draw the outline of the lock onto the panel or drawer front. Hold the selvedge flush with the edge of the material. Next, set the depth-of-cut of the router to the depth of the selvedge. But before you rout, use your saw to define the edges of the lock area. By cutting this first you will eliminate the flake-out of the material as the router cuts. Create the recess for the selvedge and clean the ends (the area remaining from the radius cut of the router bit) with your chisels as shown at right.  Now rout the area for the lock plate. Set the depth-of-cut to the thickness of the lock plate. Before you begin to rout, use a utility knife and square to cut the outline of the lock. I like to use a marking gauge to get to the back line – it allows me to square the lock to the edge by running the gauge against that edge. Carefully rout out the lock plate area by hand, getting close to the lines without touching, and finish the area with your hand tools. The lines should cut away cleanly because of the use of the knife and gauge. To lay out for the lock body, position the lock into the recessed area and trace around the outside of the lock body. Make sure that you leave enough material to catch the screws that secure the lock into the panel. Using the trim router, I ran into a small problem at this stage because its base was not large enough.  If your lock is on the large size you’ll have an area for the lock body that allows your base plate to fall into the plate-routed area, off of the panel. To keep this from happening, you can either use a larger router base plate or cut the lock body recess prior to cutting the recess for the lock plate. Generally, it’s not an issue. Now set the depth-of-cut for the router bit to the thickness of the lock body and create the recess. Because this area will never be seen once the lock is installed, you don’t need to achieve routing perfection. Now you’re ready to locate the pinhole for the lock. The key pin protrudes from the lock body and if you rout the body cavity as shown, you’ll have no trouble finding the exact location of the pinhole.  Place the lock into the recess and lightly tap the back face of the lock. This will create a small dimple where the pin meets the wood. Don’t go directly to the exact diameter drill bit for the next step. Instead, use a 1/16” drill bit to cut through to the face of the panel, then drill the appropriate hole coming in from that fac e side. This eliminates the chances of blowout, which can happen if you drill from inside the lock recess.
— Glen D. Huey
Thursday, February 22, 2007 11:44:22 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Lie-Nielsen Announces More Hand Tool Shows for 2007
Last year Lie-Nielsen Toolworks held a different kind of woodworking show outside Boston. Instead of being held in a big convention hall, this show was more personal. In addition to Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, attendees got to hang out with Konrad Sauer of Sauer & Steiner, Peter Korn from the Center for Furniture Craftsmanship, Harrelson Stanley with his Shapton stones and Michel Auriou who makes the excellent Auriou rasps.
I also was asked to demonstrate at the show and sharpened up about 50 card scrapers using the technique I explained in the February 2007 issue. It was a great show, both for the people who attended and the demonstrators. There was lots of one-on-one time, no admission charge and a relaxed atmosphere. These shows are a great way to get your hands on some hand tools and get some tips on set-up and use.
Now Lie-Nielsen Toolworks is taking its show to the West Coast. The first show will take place May 11 and 12 outside Portland, Ore., at Chehalem Winery and Vineyards. The show is being hosted in collaboration with Bridge City Tool Works and will feature John Economaki, Konrad Sauer, Mike Wenzloff (Wenzloff & Sons Saws), Michel Auriou, Kevin Drake (Glen-Drake Toolworks), David Jeske (Blue Spruce Toolworks) and Tom Lie-Nielsen.
The following weekend Lie-Nielsen will have a show at the Joseph Filippi Winery in Rancho Cucamonga, Calif., (May 18 and19). Guest demonstrators there will include John Economaki, Konrad Sauer, Mike Wenzloff, Larry Williams (of Clark & Williams), Michel Auriou, Kevin Drake, chairmaker Brian Boggs and Tom Lie-Nielsen.
In the fall Lie-Nielsen plans to host similar events in Napa, Calif., (mid-October), New Jersey/Philadelphia (mid-November) and Arlington, Mass., in collaboration with the North Bennett Street School (Nov. 30-Dec. 1st).
For more information, contact Lie-Nielsen at 800-327-2520.
I won't be able to attend the shows in May (I'm teaching that month at Marc Adams School of Woodworking and have an occasional magazine to publish), but I'll be at the Napa show in the fall, and possibly the others.
— Christopher Schwarz
Wednesday, February 21, 2007 9:59:48 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Monday, February 19, 2007
Woodworking Tourist: College of the Redwoods
 Twenty-five years ago, James Krenov started a woodworking program at the College of the Redwoods in Fort Bragg, California. I visited the school a couple of weeks ago to do a story on the anniversary for an upcoming issue of Popular Woodworking. I spent a day and a half at the school, talking to current and former students and faculty members. One of the questions on my mind on the way out to California was, "What is it like to attend the school?" The Fine Woodworking Program is housed in the building shown above. It's across town from the rest of the campus, part of the California Community College system. Tuition is reasonable for California residents, less than $500 per semester. Non-residents pay $3766 per semester and the program is two semesters long. There are also a number of summmer courses offered, and a few students are invited to attend for a second year. The school receives four applications for each available bench. Qualified applicants are invited to attend by lottery.  Students come from all over the United States and the world, and spend most of their time in the benchroom. There is also a well-equipped machine room and separate rooms for wood storage and breaks. There was considerable variety in ages and backgrounds of the students I talked to. Some were in their early 20s looking at the beginning of their careers and others were older, retired or in a position to change careers. What they all shared was a love for working with wood, and the dedication to pursue it intensely for nine months. Classes meet eight hours a day, six days a week, and many of the students spend a good deal of their evenings in the shop. The instructors are all graduates of the program so there is a good deal of continuity from the days before founder James Krenov retired in 2002.  Students start the year with a series of exercises designed to give them basic skills using and sharpening hand tools. Some come to the school with a good deal of woodworking experience and others are nearly beginners. They start by making "The Perfect Board" and go on to a series of basic joinery exercises and finish the first semester by designing and building a project. Much of the design process as it is taught involves making full size mock-ups of proposed designs. Students tape together cardboard or thin plywood and cobble together pieces of construction-grade lumber in order to get a better idea of how the finished piece will appear, before committing to solid wood. Once the design has been settled, the real work begins, and the level of quality and attention to detail in the finished work is remarkable. I attended a show of the students' first-semester projects and was quite impressed with the level of workmanship. The second semester is devoted to a more complex project involving veneering and/or curved work. When I visited, several students had their pieces well under way while others were still making decisions, modifying their models and puzzling out construction and joinery issues.  There are other intense, high level woodworking programs around the country, but what makes the College of the Redwoods unique is the influence of the style and philosophy of Krenov on the faculty, the structure of the program and the students. This isn't so much a school where you learn a certain set of skills – it is more like spending a year in a monastery where you learn to think and act like the master. Krenov's influence may have lessened slightly since he retired, but it is still pervasive. I was encouraged to see some designs that took Krenov's signature designs in new directions, and some completely non-Krenovian work, such as this chair in the style of Sam Maloof. Several people commented to me that this type of thing wouldn't have been seen 10 years ago. There were plenty of dainty little cabinets with exquisitely worked surfaces, piston-fitting drawers and delicate details. Perhaps the best thing I saw at the school was the camaraderie among the current students and the former students who came by to visit and to see the end-of-semester show. A program like this is an intense one, and going through it in close quarters with a group of congenial, like-minded people could well be one of the most valuable experiences of a lifetime.  To take a year of one's life and devote it to producing the finest work possible is a rare opportunity for most woodworkers. To work in a pleasant shop with friendly folks, away from the pressures of earning a living for an extended period would be a dream come true for many of us. More information about the program is available by clicking here: College of the Redwoods Fine Woodworking– Robert W. Lang
Monday, February 19, 2007 2:07:38 PM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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Friday, February 16, 2007
Letter: Sticker Shock v. Sticker Marks
Reader Dave Raeside writes:
In one woodworking course that I took the instructor said that he is no longer using kiln-dried wood for his projects, but is only using air-dried lumber. In another course the instructor said that he only buys so-called "rough and ready" lumber for his projects. And, recently I read that one should not use so-called "S2S" lumber. But, another of my woodworking instructors sees no particular issue with "S2S" stuff, as long as you buy it thick enough to "re-mill."
So, what's a fellow to do?
Your question is a great one. My answer, however, will not be definitive I’m afraid. I think it is, for the most part, a white wine vs. red wine question.
There is great advantage to using air-dried lumber in some cases. Some species, such as walnut and redwood, are steamed during processing to migrate some of the color from the heartwood into the sapwood. The result is that the boards have less color overall. I think steamed walnut looks rather flat when you compare it to the air-dried stuff.
However, air-dried wood is less likely to be stable and acclimated to its environment because of the unpredictable nature of the drying process. As a result, you need to be more careful about moisture content when using air-dried wood. Check its moisture content carefully to ensure you don’t have any surprises ahead.
You also need to be more careful with air-dried wood when it comes to mold and fungus. Kiln-drying kills these organisms; air-drying does not. Also, when it comes to softwoods, kiln-drying will crystallize the wood’s resins, making the boards less sappy and nasty on your tools.
As I see it, the rest is up for debate. The kiln-drying people say their wood will have fewer drying defects. The air-drying people say they can get the same yield when drying is done with care. The air-dried people say their wood is superior in that the kiln-dried stuff has a “dead” feeling. I’ve never experienced this, however.
I work with both. Instead of judging the wood by the process that dried it, I judge the wood on its grain, figure, defects and moisture content. If the boards meets all those criteria, I’ll buy it and use it.
On the subject of rough lumber v. S2S or S4S, this is a question that is more about your tooling and your time.
You’ll save money if you buy rough lumber, but you’ll need heavy-duty tools to process it and allow more time in your schedule for processing. You’ll also face more surprises with rough lumber (both good and bad) because beautiful figure and ugly figure can be obscured when the board is in a rough form.
If you buy surfaced stock, you’ll be better able to judge the figure of what you are buying and it will take less time when you are processing it, but it will cost more and you do need to be more concerned about warping, twisting and bowing. Surfaced stock that has been poorly processed or stored will be more warped. So buying over-thick stock is a typical fall-back position.
So this debate also comes down to judging the stock in front of you. If you are looking at rough stock, you need to develop an eye for picking out good figure in rough material. If you buy surfaced stock, you need to be acutely aware of twisting and warping. And you have to consider the time factor.
— Christopher Schwarz
Friday, February 16, 2007 9:45:26 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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