More Traveling Benches

Years ago I took a class with Tod Herrli at Olde Mill Cabinet Shoppe on making a panel raiser plane. When Tod teaches on the road, he brings with him a petite, but fully functional workbench (first photo). 

The removable shelving unit underneath the benchtop adds weight when handplaning. The face and tail vises are beefy. Cubbies of tool holders hang on the back edge of the benchtop by way of hooked arms.  


After my last post about portable work surfaces, I got an email from Greg Miller of Western Australia who shared with me some of the cool workbenches he's made (remaining five photos). You can read his posts here and here.

Greg writes:

I call it my “Saw Stool on Steroids”. When I am doing joinery repairs on site, it is just perfect. Plenty of holding power with two vices, solid as a rock, and the right height for hand planing, chopping mortices, etc. I also use it for teaching, as people can easily gather round it. Since I wrote that post I have added wheels on one end. These are arranged so they engage when you lift one end by the tail vice handle. It works like a steering wheel!  Wheeling it around my customers’ houses to get nearer to the action was made easier by sticking a pair of wheels on one end. 

I also do woodworking with kids and have cooked up a bench that works really well for the stuff I do with them. I now have 5 of them, and they are portable in that they are not too heavy – but they stack really nicely, too. They are a range of heights, as I do woodworking with kids from about age 3 upwards.   

Now that we have so many choices in building our own portable workbench, the question remains: Where should we add the handle so it can be designated as "carry-on luggage"?

Have Bench, Will Travel

You've felt it.

That moment of panic when, while planning for a family vacation, you realize you're going to be away from your workshop for an extended period of time. An excruciatingly long period of time.

It's the very reason I learned to carve and whittle. For times on holiday when I can't bear to relax for one more second, I have a set of carving tools and chunk of wood at the ready.

As woodworkers, no matter where we go on our travels, our brains are conditioned to search for objects made of wood, tools, and workbenches.

Yesterday, while perusing the sutlers' sundry wares at the Fort Frederick 18th-century Market Fair, I was drawn to the various devices the woodworkers brought with them so they could continue to work while away from home.

The top photo is a toolbox and low bench with storage beneath. The large dovetails that join the boards are pegged, and one of the two legs has a pedestal foot.

Below that is a skinny bench, also with only one pedestal foot. This one has a little face vise attached to one side. The skinny top makes it easy to clamp a board from both sides. Add a bench stop and start planing.

The third photo is a simple and handsome shaving horse.

Beneath it is a truncated shaving horse which is sort of a cross between a shaving mule and a shaving pony. The man who made it is a spoon carver. The L-shaped metal bar that's attached to the pivoting head holds the workpiece in place.

What looks to me to be an exaggerated angle on the wooden legs would help keep the bench stationary in use; the carver's weight can't be used since there's no seat. The metal front leg digs into the ground, further anchoring the mule-pony.

The final image is one I found online and was designed by a member of the Lumber Jocks community.

This saw bench is great as is, but you can easily make adjustments and add accessories based on the type of work you do.

I can see this doubling as a bowl bench. With a short-handled adze, you can straddle the bench while the workpiece is secured by a bar clamp equipped with tall wood pads.  You can add a little tool box underneath so the weight of the tools help keep the bench from sliding.

Lots of a clever ideas to take woodworking on the road.  Now maybe a beach vacation won't seem so torturous.

Making It Shine

After Polishing

The scratches on top of my cherry and brass level were really distracting and made it look a little slipshod.

So, I took friends' advice and ordered polishing papers, which worked really well.

I went through these successive grits: 400, 600, 1200, 4000, 6000, and 8000.

The level is much shinier than before, but I could have spent a few more minutes on some areas where light scratches still remain.

And there they shall. I've moved on to other fun projects.

Paint, Pattern & People: Exhibit

The best way I can describe the work in the gallery at Winterthur that displays the 18th-century southeastern Pennsylvania furniture from the Paint, Pattern & People book is this: the pieces simply glow.

The combination of the lively painted surfaces, gallery colors, wall hung paintings and deep, rich tones of the various woods make this collection a warm and vibrant experience.

There is nothing that compares to seeing these pieces in person. While the photography in the book is wonderful, a two-dimensional image cannot convey the full impact of the actual work.

Granted, this is my favorite time period and these are pieces from the area in the U.S. that I love most, but I'm quite sure that any woodworker can appreciate the craftsmanship and skill that built them.

The fact that you can get so close to the furniture that you can look beneath and behind some of them means discovering things such as the cross-wedged through-tenons in a Moravian chair seat; the points made by compasses as they scribed arcs for line and berry spice boxes; pencil lines that sketched the initial designs for painted chests; and table tops rubbed smooth and shiny by a thousand hands.

All the marks left on the furniture give us a window through which we can imagine the time when they were made and used. The worn corners on the feet of a chest-over-drawers brings to mind an image of a woman sweeping the wood floor beside it while children rough-house a bit too energetically in its vicinity.

By following the lines of a carved pediment on a high chest of drawers, we can envision the movement of the woodworker's hand as he slides a gouge along the rim. The slight inconsistencies in the flow of the curve confirms that it was made by hand; the subtle imperfections forever capture the marks of the craftsman who made them.

As woodworkers, we know what tools were used to make various cuts, and we instinctively "build" the piece as we study the tool marks. So this exhibit becomes an interactive one for us.

One thing that struck me about many of the pieces is the attention to detail, even in the smallest elements. A tiny door within the gallery of a writing desk displays delicate, yet complex moulding. A small box showcases row upon row of detailed inlay made from hundreds of pieces of contrasting wood.

Even the iron work is artistic. While these country craftsmen were influenced by their big city counterparts and brought with them styles of ornament from the countries from which they emigrated, it seems evident that they applied their own creativity to the mix, making each piece one-of-a-kind.

The items in this collection are the very finest I've seen from this era and region. The colors are so bright as to look newly-painted, both on the furniture and in the framed illustrations of the region.

For centuries, these pieces absorbed and reflected the lives of the people who made and owned them. Perhaps that's why they seem to have so much personality and soul.

Our projects are part of us. The things we build today will document details of our lives and leave future woodworkers to wonder about us. We are part of a continuum.  And these 18th-century pieces remind us to build something worthy of bearing witness to our history.

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Please note that photography is not permitted in this exhibit. I'd like to thank the Winterthur Museum for allowing me to photograph these marvelous pieces.

Wood Carving: Where Do You Start?

A Variety of Carving Tools

Disclaimer: I am not an expert carver. I don't even play one on TV.  Feel free to challenge, contest, throw tomatoes at, or add your thoughts to any of the following.

There are several types of wood carving: chip, letter, and relief carving; and carving in the round.

Chip Carved Box

Carving tools include knives, chisels, gouges, and mallets. For carving in the round, rasps and files are helpful.

Gouges come in many shapes and are gauged by their width and sweep (the amount of curve on the cutting edge). Included in the mix are straight, bent, fishtail, in-cannel (the bevel is on the inside rather than the outside), spoonbit, and V-gouges.  Many are also available with short or long handles.

Chip Carved HandPlane

Like any new woodworking venture, it can be a little daunting to know where to start.

Several woodworkers have emailed me with questions about which tools they need to carve wood. They ask if it’s best to invest in a set of carving tools.

My response is always the same: find a project you like—from a book or magazine—and purchase the tools you need to carve it. Publications will often provide you with a checklist of tools for the project. Chances are you’ll use those tools again because you used them to carve a project you like.  Whereas, when you buy a set, there will be one or more tools you will never use.

Letter Carved Symbol

Now, what type of carving would you like to try?

Chip carving is the easiest. You need only two tools—a primary knife and a stab knife. Chip carving consists of three basic, rather shallow cuts. Once you master them, you need only arrange them to create your own designs.

Letter Carved Sign

Lettercarving can be complex or easy. You can use a large variety of chisels and gouges which match every conceivable shape you need.  Or, you can simply use a chip carving knife. With chip carving, however, you will be limited by the type of wood (certain hardwoods can very difficult) and the size of the letters. I use a different technique which requires only one chisel and one shallow-sweep gouge.  The size of the tools depends on the size of the letters. With this technique I can carve just about any type of wood and any size or shape letter.

Relief Carved Box

Relief carving is where you start getting into some money. I do not have a huge variety of gouges, and try to make do with what I have. As you begin to carve, you will realize what you’re missing from your collection. Keep in mind, just as you don’t need to have chisels ranging from 1/16” to 2 1/2” and everything in between, you can often get by with less.

Relief Carved Cross

Carving in the round is like relief carving only the project is carved on all sides, as with a ball-and-claw foot. Rasps can remove lots of wood in short order, and files refine the shape. There is nothing quite as luminous as the smooth facets left by a chisel or gouge however, so I remove all rasp and file marks with them.

I do not use sandpaper to smooth portions of carved pieces—the abraded areas have a different appearance than and don’t blend in with the sheared surfaces created by cutting tools. Plus, sandpaper rounds over crisp edges.

With any carving, you must have sharp tools. I can’t stress this enough. Dull or semi-sharp tools will only frustrate you and you’ll never produce the results you want. I use ceramic-, water-, and slipstones, and strops charged with honing compound. It’s much easier to maintain an edge by frequent honing than it is to completely resharpen a tool.

You must also learn to read the grain. The “petting-the-hair-on-a-cat” analogy never resonated with me. Maybe I’ve been petting cats the wrong way all these years (which might explain the scars), but I came up with a different image—that of a skier.  Always carve downhill—with the grain—and the trail you leave behind will be smooth. If you carve against the grain, the direction of the cut will leave the fibers that are ahead of your chisel or gouge unsupported, resulting in tearout. And you'll fall off a cliff. And die.

If that visual isn’t working for you, think of grain as walking up or down steps—it’s much easier to walk down a flight of stairs. 

If you'd like to read more of my blog entries about carving, key in phrases such as these in the search box: “chip carving,” “lettercarving,” “relief carving,” and “sharpening gouges.”

If you’re looking for good books, I recommend Wayne Barton’s book “The Complete Guide to Chip Carving”and Richard Butz’s book “How to Carve Wood.”  I have not found any reference that shows the exact lettercarving technique I use (which was taught to me by a sign carver), but I plan to make more videos on the subject in the future.

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I wrote the above entry for Marc Spagnuolo, The Wood Whisperer, who invited me to be a guest blogger on his website. Thanks, Marc!

Making a Level: Glamour Shots

Well, as glamorous as I'm willing to go without the assistance of a boa and leopard-print fabric.

The level is sanded to 400 grit and has four thin coats of wipe-on polyurethane and two coats of dark paste wax.

Over time, the brass and cherry will darken (my preference).

One person asked in the last post what happens if the wood moves over time. How will I fix it so it's still level?  I'll either lay a sheet of sandpaper on my table saw and rub the bottom of the level back and forth until it's flat again or I'll handplane the bottom.

Thanks to another commenter for this idea: you can check for level by laying it on your table saw, taking note of the position of the bubble, spinning the level 180º, and checking the location of the bubble again. If it's in the same place, your level is level. 

The brass is not polished as smoothly as I'd like. I rubbed it with 220, 400, 1200, and 4,000 grit sandpaper and still there are scratches.

I asked an old college chum who now makes jewelry (and some very cool tags for dogs) how she achieves a mirror polish on metal.

She uses polishing papers, working through the entire set, then puts the jewelry in a tumbler. While I'm not planning to invest in the last item, I am going to try the paper.  I don't know if it will also work on wood or not but I'll give it a try. The fact that the sheets are washable and reusable (and inexpensive) is pretty enticing.

Now....what to build next?

Making A Level: Part IV

According to Herbert P. Kean's book Restoring Antique Tools, mounting the vial in place can be achieved by filling a bathtub with a few inches of water, floating a board, laying the level on top of the board, and adjusting the vial until it's level.

I tried this with a large tub of water, but the board did not support a block of wood very well. It tended to tip, become soaked with water, and sink.

Fortunately I tried this with a sacrificial block of wood rather than my homemade level.

Instead, I sat one of the nice antique levels I own on top of my table saw and shimmed it with two thin metal rulers until the vial showed that it was level.  I used this surface on which to sit my level.

I considered using spackling to secure the vial in place, but decided to use Plaster of Paris instead. It sets up quickly and it's the same substance that was used in antique levels.

Mix the plaster two parts to one part water, dab water in the wood cavity of the level, and spread the mixture with thin strips of wood.  Through trial and error and a few moments of panic, I found that it's best to let the plaster set up a little bit, then push the vial in place.

You need to consider the "windows" through which the vial will be viewed—there should not be any plaster on these areas of the vial or it will be noticeable and unattractive.

Make sure the vial is sitting a little beneath the top surface of the level. That way, when the brass plate is screwed in place it won't touch the vial. You also need to be sure that the convex curve in the glass is arcing upward and that the vial is positioned in the center of the cavity.

I used thin strips of wood to scrape away excess plaster, then used a moistened Q-tip to clean up smudges.

I pre-finished the wood before I seated the vial. In a few days I'll rub on some paste wax and take some glamour shots of the completed project.

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The previous three blog posts about making this level are 1, 2, and 3.

Paint, Pattern & People: Book Review

Paint, Pattern & People: Furniture of Southeastern Pennsylvania 1725-1850

by Wendy A. Cooper and Lisa Minardi

Wendy A. Cooper, Senior Curator of Furniture at Winterthur

Lisa Minardi, Assistant Curator of Furniture for the Southeastern Pennsylvania Furniture Project at Winterthur

Ms. Cooper and Ms. Minardi’s newly released book appeals not only to woodworkers, but to anyone who is interested in early American history, culture, and furniture.

They started their project over six years ago with the desire to bring to light little known facts about the culture and creativity of the 18th- and 19th-century inhabitants of southeastern Pennsylvania.

Cooper and Minardi canvassed over 250 private and public collections, attended auctions and visited antique dealers in search of furniture with well documented histories.

Their exhaustive research gives us fascinating insight into the everyday happenings of the inhabitants, and the furniture transports us into the lives of our ancestors.

The first part of the book focuses on the people who immigrated to the area—equal numbers of English- and German- speaking people—and their attraction to a place that was tolerant of their religious beliefs and provided ample natural resources which would to lead to prosperity.  The dense, tall forests, thick with black walnut, cherry, and maple were especially attractive to woodworkers.

Details about the early settlers include occupations, inventories of possessions, costs of goods, countries of origin, and places of worship.

Peppered throughout the text are excerpts from journals which give us a personal look at habits and personalities.

The authors found that similarities in painted, inlaid, and carved decoration and construction were influenced by a variety of factors including region, ethnicity, religious affiliation, personal taste, socioeconomic status, and the skill of the craftsman.

They also managed to debunk several myths—for example, notions about dower chests, most of which weren’t dower chests at all. In reality, the majority were made for young teens of both genders to store their possessions. The quickly built chests accompanied them in their marriages and became part of their new homes.

Another myth they dispelled is that the region was solely populated by Pennsylvania Germans. In fact, Pennsylvania was the most culturally diverse of the 13 colonies.

We learn about the craftsmen through inventories of their tools, inscriptions left on backs of furniture, and items they bartered in exchange for products of their craft. Cabinetmaker Thomas Ogden of West Chester advertised in 1820 that he would “take in exchange beef, pork, fire wood, wheat, rye, corn or any kind of boards, such as he makes use of in his line.”

The authors provide detailed descriptions of the pieces that are showcased in the book including wood species, dimensions, design features, markings, hardware, and close-ups of carving and inlay.  As furniture experts, Cooper and Minardi speak our language, pointing out of all the things we want to know about the furniture including unique features.

Of one piece they write, “The short cabriole legs of the Garrett tall chest are unusual in that they attach to the case with large wooden screws. The legs are dovetailed to a batten that runs front-to-back at either side of the case, and then secured to the underside of the cabinet with two wooden screws on each side. Approximately thirty other tall chests with this construction feature are known.”

 

They uncovered an incredible number of fascinating things about the people, furniture, regions and craftsmen. For example, in 1772 John Frederick Whitehead studied to be a cabinetmaker in Germany. After seven months as a young apprentice, he wrote, “I was no further advanced in learning the trade than when I began...the chief [thing] I did was breaking of Gimblets, bending of Chysels and Saws, spoiled boards and planes.” Later, he moved to Pennsylvania and became a weaver.

Interspersed among the photos of more than 125 pieces of painted and high end furniture are numerous 18th- and 19th-century paintings of farmland and fertile, rolling hills of Pennsylvania; painted portraits of families and individuals who are highlighted in the text; photos of stone homesteads which are still standing; and archival images from the early 1900s.

In addition, more than 30 pages of end notes provide even more information about the pieces and the people, and an extensive selected bibliography directs us toward further related reading.

What an undertaking Cooper and Minardi embarked upon six years ago. To have compiled such a thorough and comprehensive amount of useful, captivating, educational, and inspiring information is nothing short of astounding.

Their hope is that their work will lay a foundation which other scholars can use for more study about the people and furniture of early southeastern Pennsylvania. What they’ve also produced is a marvelous tribute to the craftsmen who made the pieces.

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A new exhibit—Paint, Pattern & People—opens at the Winterthur Museum on April 2 and will display many of the pieces included in the book. Guess who’s planning to be first in line. ; )

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Photos are courtesy of the Winterthur Museum. Notes about the pieces are as follows (from top to bottom):
1. Wainscot armchair, about 1740
Walnut; holly
2. Desk-and-bookcase, 1725–40
Cherry; chestnut, tulip-poplar, oak, white pine, walnut; holly; brass
3. Desk-and-bookcase, 1770–90
Cherry; tulip-poplar; brass
4. Hanging cupboard, 1800
White pine; paint; glass; iron, brass
5. Chest-over-drawers, 1791
Tulip-poplar; paint; brass, iron
6. Tall chest of drawers, 1786
Maple; tulip-poplar, walnut; brass
7. Kitchen cupboard, 1848
Tulip-poplar, maple; white pine; red lead, vermilion (microanalysis); brass, iron; glass