Appendix 1: Memoir of Forty Years of Woodworking (In Progress 6-22-07)

Experience Counts! Notes on personal motivations for woodworking:

 

Now it matters but little what your financial or social position may be, how well educated you are, or what your vocation is, if you have never used woodworking tools you have missed one of the greatest pleasures and lasting benefits that is the heritage of the human race. To be able to use tools is a special education in itself, for it coordinates the mind, the eye, and the hand, and this kind of training will help you to do many other things well and, it follows, will prove to be of the greatest value to you as long as you live. Source: Archie Frederick Collins, Working With Tools For Fun and Profit, New York: New Home Library, 1937, page viii

 

Question: How does one become an amateur woodworker? The following is my rambling response. Among outsiders to woodworking, when observing craftsmen working on a project, like, say, routing the edge of a table top, or, simply using a hand plane to smooth a warped board, the almost universal question is,

"How did you learn how to do that?" Sometimes, of course, these questions are easily answered:

"I just started, without any knowledge of the tools or skills, but slowly I became more proficient, and found that, with practice, I could do it."

In other instances, fewer than we would like, some amateur woodworkers have been fortunate enough to take course(s) in woodworking, maybe while in high school, or later, at an evening class in a community college.

Still, in many other instances, this same question cannot be answered easily. Instead, woodworkers have to fall back on responses like, "I am not sure, but ...."

A compelling reason for many potentially enthusiastic participants to avoid engaging in woodworking, even though it is an exceedingly satisfying pastime, is the fear of not having the skill to execute the individual operations that completing a project requires. Couple that fear with the intimidating vocabulary. Many examples abound, but -- for the moment -- I give only one:

Here's where I think my experience counts, both as an amateur woodworker and as a journeyman research/writer.

Are you a Woodbutcher? I know I am.

Below on the left is an image of some text, copped from an issue  Fine Woodworking, "volume 1, number 6", in other words, the sixth issue of that periodical. (My subscription for FW didn't begin volume 1, no 1, but shortly afterward -- number 2 or 3.) The whole article focuses on the confessions of an amateur woodworker from Hampton, GA, tongue-in-cheek, voicing a jeremiad about being a "woodbutcher". Why is he a woodbutcher -- rather than, say, an amateur woodworker? Well, bottom line, because he always attempts projects in woodworking that are beyond his capabilities. 

If anything is true about my engagement in woodworking it is that I have consistently attempted projects beyond my capabilities and outside the capacities of my woodworking tools. 

However, rather than seeing this pattern of behavior as a weakness of my  personality, instead I consider it an asset. In fact, throughout my adult life, my preference has been to take on the projects that I fancied, rather than follow the advice of my associates, because they considered many projects that I undertook beyond my talent. 

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for? Source: Robert Browning 1812-89,  Andrea del Sarto (1855) L.97

  And what about the predictable charge: As woodbutchers, you are "Second Rate!" Hardly. Second rate implies that we are in some sort of competition. In competition with whom? If anybody, in competition with ourselves. Amateur woodworking is done for the shear fun of it.    

 

My qualifications for writing a history of the amateur woodworking movement: 

My toil on this history of woodworking project, especially the research where I uncover more about the hidden history of amateur woodworking, is informed to a large part by my own experience as an amateur woodworker. 

My personal experience as an amateur woodworker dates back to my high school days, in the Canadian prairie province of Saskatchewan.

Where appropriate, I will inject my interpretations of these experiences into the narrative. My experience in my woodworking courses in high school was not particularly enjoyable. Anyone with reaction to high schools woodworking courses like mine would not be encouraged to continue woodworking. Instead, something else was the driver, leading me to pursue woodworking as a hobby.

In my own case, while I did take a woodworking course in high school, I think is it was grade ten -- this experience was not enjoyable. Instead, I had little respect for my teacher, and really didn't get much out of it at all. My initiation into woodworking -- squaring a board with a plane -- was not sufficiently motivating, evidently. Likewise, the results of my other attempts at woodworking, i.e., working by myself at home, while more satisfying, and using the hand tools, such as an Atkins hand saw, a No. 5 Stanley hand plane, and a Stanley adjustable square, were at the time disappointing, although not always. (Highlighted terms are defined in the glossary.)

These tools were given to me on my 10th or 11th birthday by my uncles, and I still have them, over fifty years later.

Why was I disappointed in my initial results of woodworking? My results never matched my expectations. You soon find out that sawing a board with a hand saw takes much skill, skill that is not learned quickly, and for a teenage boy, one had to be resolved to accepting less than "good" results.

The Three-Legged Stool: More than a Hobby, Woodworking is a "Craft" "Where, then,  does craft ... begin?" And why do I think my Woodworking is "Spiritual?" And is Woodworking a Form of "Creativity"?

It's inevitable, I think, that I look upon my woodworking activities as more than a "hobby"; instead I  visualize them as a "craft". The results of these activities, the furniture that comprises much of the furnishings of our home testify, for sure, that my woodworking is more than a "hobby", because of the payoff they "bestow" upon me, in the pure sense of bestow, meaning "gift".

Such a statement is, of course, personal, and sets itself up to be challenged. Its "truth" exists, more or less, in the proverbial "eyes of the beholder". However, at least for the time being, I am sticking with it.

Further, the affect that woodworking has upon my life is, I think, "spiritual", quite apart from any religious beliefs.  To prove these thoughts to myself, I looked up "craft", "spiritual" and "creativity" in one of my favorite dictionaries, Webster's 2d Edition, 1952. 

Again, "Where does craft ... begin?" While the answer may not be as easy as it seems.... my conception of craft  consists of the spirit in which, rather than solely the means by which, a production process is carried out".
 

(Source: Adapted from "Chapter 2: WHAT IS CRAFT?" and "Chapter 13: Crafts Today", Scott Graham Williamson The American Craftsman 1940, pages 8-12, 177-188.)

Admittedly, the context from which the gist of these quotes spring is mass production, but when I saw these thoughts, I immediately visualized how well they suited an amateur woodworker's setting.

(My wife claims that, likewise, her gardening activities are a craft and affect her spiritually.)
 

A further admission, from above, where I note the concept, "woodbutcher", and admit that I am guilty as charged. And, OK, I am not a perfectionist. Instead, I am content with good, serviceable results, along the lines made famous by the English designer/woodworker, David Pye. 

In his book, The Nature of Art and Workmanship, David Pye offers two incisive concepts: Workmanship can be divided into the "workmanship of risk" and the "workmanship of certainty". The former -- risk -- is "workmanship using any kind of technique or apparatus in which the quality of the work is not pre-determined but depends on the judgment, dexterity and care which the maker exercises as he works". In the latter -- certainty -- "the quality of the result is exactly pre-determined before a single saleable thing is made".

Also tied in with Pye?s concept, workmanship of risk is the argument that ?execution? is more important than ?expression?, where amateur woodworkers like myself ?view the outcome of their labors as subordinate to the immediate pleasures that they gain from creation?.

Cutting a molding with a hand chisel is risk because only the workman controls the depth and direction of the cut. Running a molding with a hand molding plane, however, increases certainty because the contoured plane iron pre-determines the shape of the cut, and the plane block prevents the iron from entering the work too deeply. Cutting a molding with a shaper cutter increases the certainty even more. So, while any preference for power tools over hand tools betrays sense of a changing risk to certainty, machinery can increase productivity by reducing the care and dexterity required to form the product. True, but -- experience proves -- even using power tools involves risk.

Sources: David Pye, The Nature of Art and Workmanship (New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1968), p. 7; Richard Lakes, ??Doing? Craft?, Journal of Technology Education 2 (fall 1990), p. 68 ?
 

Lewis Mumford?s famous  1951 Bampton Lectures were  published  as Art And Technics in 1952. In a chapter entitled ?From Handicraft to Machine Art,? he says this about craftsmanship:

He [the craftsman] took his own time about his work, he obeyed the rhythms of his own body, resting when he was tired, reflecting and planning as he went along, lingering over the parts that interested him most, so that, though his work pro­ceeded slowly, the time that he spent on it was truly life time. The craftsman, like the artist, lived in his work, for his work, by his work; and the effect of art was merely to heighten and intensify these natural organic processes?not to serve as mere compensation or escape (p. 62).]

And, let's not overlook the fathers of the modern concept of "craft", Arts and Crafts movement, The Craftsman, and inspired generation of amateur woodworkers, as detailed on the page, "The Morris chair as an Icon of Amateur Woodworkers"
 

And What About the Stool's Second Leg, the "Spiritual"? 

Some, perhaps, greet skeptically any claim about woodworking being "spiritual". Why? Because it is a term that immediately generates images about  religion. If my claim does indeed result in a skeptical response, it's an attitude in that person that I can't control.

But like I say above -- in my  acknowledgment that, in the eyes of some, I am a woodbutcher, but continue to be a woodworker --  likewise, regardless of the attitudes of others -- I claim a spiritual outcome from my woodworking activities.

The spiritual comes into the scene quite apart from any religious beliefs.  (If I am anything "religious", the closest is secular humanist.)

On the ?spiritual? I?m going to note further that, rather than expensive virgin wood, I prefer as a conservationist to use ?used? wood, and to extend valuable wood by resawing it into thin slices with a bandsaw and making my own veneer. (Ex: image address wrong check out the Douglas fir armoire on my homepage; also [image address wrong] the picture frames out of weathered Douglas fir barn boards .) However, spiritual is more than these two things, but expressing things according to my notions them will take time.

In another part of this website, I speculate a little on  whether woodworking is either 'Process' or 'Product'? To read more on the matter, click on [image address wrong] "Skill Hunger" vs "The Joy of Accomplishment" and/or the ruminations of woodworker, Mark Duginske :

" ... [E]ach step of the building process ... is a jungle of options. ... There are few ... right answers".
 

Before my encounter of the Skill Hunger motive as a driver for people like myself to be driven to woodworking, I had idly speculated on this matter, "Is woodworking Process or Product?". That is, given that the motive to engage in woodworking is a combination of, on the one hand, economic need -- "you need furniture in your home, and making it yourself is the least expensive way to acquire furniture" -- and, on the other hand, creative drive -- " ?". I have a draft of these speculations but have not uploaded it yet. It needs much more thought and work.

 

 Source: Richard D Lakes, "Spirituality, Work and Education: The Holistic Approach", Journal of Vocational Education [dates needed]

Further, I harbor no doubts about a knowledge among others who have similar convictions  about their woodworking. For example, the image of text, below, on the left, comes from Sam Maloof's autobiography, and by reading only the yellow highlighted portions, you get a quick, but sincere claim about the "rewards" of woodworking from an American master of creating studio furniture today.

 

Sam Maloof: Woodworker  by Sam Maloof (Kodansha, $39.95 paperback) is well- designed, serious and sincere, much like Maloof's art. Maloof's designs, -- the look of classic Scandinavian modern -- are shaped with the human body in mind and derive their beauty from the well-polished beauty of the wood itself.

 The text and images in the box below was first published in the Newsletter of the Northwest Coast Woodworkers Association, January, 2007:
 

"This Tree Was Special"   The morning of Thursday, Oct 19, was a bit cloudy and wet, but that weather did not detract from the excitement of watching Stephen Intveldt saw into pieces a huge big-leaf maple log with ?burl?ish features.   Steve invited four friends out to witness this event: Gene Benson, Dave Blair, Lyle Hand and myself.   The log was about nine feet long, and although the log?s girth was uneven, at it largest dimension, its diameter measured 36?. Quite a hunk, its heft required a front-end-loader on Steve?s tractor to lift and move it.   The tree itself ? its age is not known -- grew up just off Cedarville Road, near the Deming Log Show grounds. For harvesting it, Steve had a friend, help. They cut the tree up into piece ranging between six and nine feet lengths.   The log seasoned outside for about 18 months. Steve painted the butt with latex paint. While the log?s moisture was not measured, Steve estimates that it was about 30%.   (Steve intends to store the boards for about 12 more months, at which time he thinks the moisture will read about 16%.)   Steve?s sawmill set-up -- called ?Mobile Dimension? ? is powered by an industrial Volkswagen engine. The unit has three circular blades, a main vertical 30? one and two smaller, circular blades, set square to the vertical blade, to cut the edges of boards square with the larger flat sides of boards.   The large, vertical blade has only six steel teeth, but manages a uniformly, flat surface on each cut. Steve cuts boards up to 12? wide, and up to 4? thick. The sawmill?s carriage is 26 feet.           The log yielded about thirty boards, each dimensioned by Steve into the most advantageous size.         Left to be sawn later was the log?s middle, from which Steve will, Nakashimi-like, bandsaw 3 slabs, for coffee tables, etc., each 4 inches thick by  approximately thirty-six inches wide  by nine feet lengths.   The most fun? Waiting as each board come off the carriage, to see what surprise there would be in grain configuration.    Experience, Steve notes, shows that a log?s best wood comes from the middle. In cutting this log up, the more figured grain was nearer the surface. Boards from the log?s interior were pretty straight grained.    As someone has claimed, ?Trees are nature?s cathedrals, places for worship of natural beauty?. In their natural state, however, while definitely ?cathedral-like,? trees are open to life, and death, and in ?death? reemerge in some other form, perhaps equally beautiful.   In another sense, though, that same tree, discreetly drawn and quartered, can perpetuate forever its original beauty, i.e., its interior grain figuration on display as a dovetailed box, a turned bowl, or perhaps a coffee table, with an exquisitely formed top of book-matched veneers. This way, the tree doesn?t ?die?; instead it spirit lives on in perpetuity.   It is the latter that we witnessed on that damp, October morning. For all of us, it was one of life?s special days.

 

Is Woodworking Compatible With the Notion of "Creativity"? Or, Will Creativity Stand Up as My Stool's "Third Leg"?
 

Just as I asked -- rhetorically -- above, "Where does craft ... begin?", I ask  here, "Is woodworking a creative activity?" The answer is obvious, of course, even though some of us must wrestle with the knowledge that -- in the eyes of some, like editors of woodworking periodicals -- the results of our woodworking efforts are in the area of "wood butchery".

While the answer may not be as easy as it seems.... my conception of craft  consists of the spirit in which, rather than solely the means by which, a production process is carried out".

Creativity, anywhere, is often merely a matter of  mixing two unrelated things into something entirely new. And, in most cases, the combination, the "whole", is greater than the sum of the parts. One of the things about the history of the amateur woodworking movement that I "make a big deal about" is that, for the most part, innovation in woodworking is a "bottom-up" -- rather than top down -- enterprise. Here, for the most part, I have in mind the truth that most of the multitude of "jigs" that lard up today's  woodworker's tool catalogs are the commodification of labor-saving devices devised on shop floors by woodworkers to save time, make operations safer, and so forth. For perhaps the best  example of my claim, click on the link and look at the history of the Biesemeyer fence. (For those not part of woodworking's cognoscenti, the Biesemeyer fence is the main stay of high end table saws, such as the Delta Unisaw, Powermatic 66, much treasured by amateur woodworkers able to afford the $2000 price tag.)

THE LEISURE AGE: ITS CHALLENGE TO RECREATION Norman P. Miller    Duane M. Robinson University of California Los Angeles    George Williams College Belmont, California: Wadsworth Publishing Company, Inc., 1963   From pages 13-14:   RECREATION AND AESTHETIC VALUES   Only in modern times has there been the thought that in the pursuit of happiness all men equally might share in the deep pleasures and satisfactions of aesthetic experiences. Aesthetics in earlier days was for the select few who perhaps "understood" the arts, and who could afford to be their patrons. Of course, a concept of aesthetics which equated it with the fine arts would be too narrow, for in much of nature, in the simple creativity of the craftsman or the folk group, or in many forms of human relations at their finest, one finds beauty. Aesthetics is concerned with the nature and quality of beauty in man's life. Much of recreation is a search for beauty, the creative use of oneself and working materials, or the pleasure of contemplating the results of creative activities by others. Joseph Lee is credited with stating, among the Nineteen Recreation Principles, the following: "Every man should be helped to learn how to make something of beauty in line, form, color, sound, or graceful use of his own body. At least he should find pleasure in what others do in painting, woodworking, sculpture, photography, if he cannot himself use these forms of expression." * These forms of creative artistic expression, along with reading, music, social relationships, and many others, constitute a source of profound satisfaction for almost all persons, although within a wide range of variability. They meet what apparently are deeply seated needs of the human being. The pursuit of happiness must be understood as the pursuit of beauty in as many aspects of life as possible, in elegant mathematical solutions as well as in the arts, in contemplation, in play, and so on. Thus aesthetics is concerned with the nature of all human existence, with the infusion of beauty into every phase of life. Recreation, more than most of man's daily activities, is immediately directed toward pleasurable feeling, happiness, joy of living. One may view leisure time as the major opportunity and recreation as the major means that most men possess to express themselves creatively, to exercise artistic skills and pursue cultural interests as they please. Such a view assumes that aesthetic values are the prime objectives of life itself. Mechanical and automated aspects of life frustrate many men's sharing of these values and deny to many persons the opportunity to develop the skills to implement adequately their creative interests. One may judge the level of civilization by the criterion, among others, of the opportunity afforded all groups and individuals in the population to enjoy aesthetic pleasures ? and by the use these individuals make of this opportunity. In our own country we must view very critically our resources for creative recreation when we contrast them with the influences that debase or vulgarize the tastes of the people. Recreational and cultural workers, on aesthetic grounds, must strive to increase the opportunity for all members of our society to enjoy a rich cultural life. * Joseph Lee, Nineteen Recreation Principles, The National Recreation Association, New York (published in several different forms during recent years.]

 

OK! I plead guilty. The sentiment expressed in the text in the boxed area above  is "over the top"! Especially the text highlighted in red, but it helps make the point that, inherently, we all have impulses toward creativity, and -- when we are fortunate enough --  we can perhaps use the outlet of woodworking to express these drives. 

The Cultural Value of Woodworking (The quotes below succinctly capture some of my personal opinions about an alleged cultural value woodworking, but -- for the moment -- I am unsure about the most appropriate way to use the. Sooooo, for the time being, am simply sticking them here!)
 

Woodworking in all its branches is essentially creative. It teaches art through design, and permits the individual to display his information and abilities in a concrete manner. ? Source: Joseph A. Shelley, "Some Observations on  the Cultural Value of Woodworking?,  Industrial Arts Magazine 13 October 1924, page 374

Woodworking is ? an art. The woodworker who has learned his trade well, is familiar with the underlying fundamental principles and has the skill to apply them to a practical and useful purpose, is an artist. ?The Cultural Value of Woodworking,? Source: Richard M Van Gaasbeek, "The Cultural Value of Woodworking", Industrial Arts Magazine 15 1926, page 3.

 

 

Harvey Green's Wood: Craft, Culture, History is the first book in my experience that looks at the "culture of wood", or maybe it's "the woodworking culture". Whatever, upon spying it, I realized a heretofore unrecognized truth about amateur woodworking: amateur woodworking is a "culture", similar to a "participatory" sport, like golf or tennis or racquetball, but -- at least in my experience -- has not gotten such recognition. Why? This neglect of observation is obvious, in my view, though, for the following reason: Woodworking is an activity engaged in by "insiders", who are not taken to introspection about their activities, while "outsiders" who may be looking in -- and possess the analytical skills needed to expose woodworking as a culture -- fail to understand the chemistry involved. Sources: Harvey Green,Wood: Craft, Culture, History. New York: Penguin, 2006. Green is a professor of history at Northeastern University. An academic book that includes sections on woodworking, and written by someone who betrays himself as an outsider is Hobbies: Leisure and the Culture of Work in America. New York: Columbia University Press, 1999.

At Heart, I'm Really a Power Tool Person

Further, years later, in retrospect, I have concluded that I am a power tool woodworker, that I prefer power tools over hand tools.

Fortunately, unsatisfactory results did not kill my motives to continue woodworking. Maybe it was because still another factor entered the picture: economic need. Previously, I am convinced, it was from a response to my creative juices that drove me to woodworking. Still, I am not certain.What are the components of woodworking? I can't put it better than Stephen Shepherd:Only one half of the art of woodworking is in knowledge of the wood. The other half is knowledge of the tools and the ways of using them.From p. 2 of Shepherd's Compleat Early Nineteenth Century Woodworker. Source: Green River Forge G.S.L.C.,Utah, 1981. While Shepherd is a professional woodworker, his words of wisdom also apply to amateurs. http://www.ilovewood.com/.
 

Some Personal Notes
 

My wife Karen and I were married in in Vancouver in June 1958. Now both an American and Canadian citizen, I was born in 1936 of a working class family on the hard Canadian prairie in the teeny town, Wishart, Saskatchewan.

Born in 1937, at Elma, Washington, in the heart of Washington's forest industry, my wife Karen is from a very similar socio-economic background.

When we got married -- both my wife and I were in our very early 20s -- we started out virtually penniless.

(I am sure, though, that our experience with poverty at that time was pretty common, far from unique.)

I graduated from library school at the University of Washington in 1961 and, after several temporary positions, in June, 1965, landed at Western Washington University in Bellingham, as a beginning academic reference librarian in the lowest faculty rank. Barely able to collect enough money for a down payment on a mortgage on a small house, together we started what was to become for me a rewarding, exciting 36-year long career in the academic world.

Located on the edge of Puget Sound, roughly half way between Seattle and Vancouver, the idyllic city Bellingham sits in the shadow of the 14,000-foot Mount Baker. In 1965, Bellingham was a city of about 40,000. Today, in the first decade of the 21st century, it is approaching 100,000 and growing.

Besides beginning a professional career, I had to begin furnishing a home. Furnishing a home means furniture and appliances. When you can't afford to buy new furniture, you have only a few other options. You can take family handouts. Make you own furniture, Or, almost the same thing, you can locate cast off pieces and/or second hand pieces, and use them "as is" or refinish them. I did all of the above.
 

Immediately, we discovered that we needed more furniture for our new home. At the time, our "dining" table was a colonial-style tilt-top table that I had made a few years earlier in a community-college woodworking course. Pictured here (temporarily) is Franklin Gottshall's 1984 book, Provincial Furniture: Design and Construction,much more elaborate than mine. (Eventually I'll post a photo of my table.)

In Colonial days, this type of table was designed to serve several purposes; a table obviously, but also as a seat, near the fireplace, a central part of the colonial house, because it was the source of heat and comfort. At the time, because I was unable to afford anything but the tuition, I built the table out of Western Red Cedar from the forests nearby, that some kind soul gave me. Western Red Cedar is indeed a noble wood, but it is just too soft for constructing a table that gets heavy use from young kids. Moreover, while I followed plans, for a reason that is not clear to me now, 50 years later, I made the base narrower than I should have, a factor that has always made me detest the piece. My wife, however, likes it, and while we do not use it as furniture now, she will not think of getting rid of it.

When we moved into our first Bellingham home, we did have a double bed, a second hand one that we had purchased for $25 in while I was student in Seattle. (In those days, $25 was quite a bit to afford.) I cannot remember what we had for a sofa or chairs for the living room.

The summer of 1965, soon after I got started in my new position as reference librarian at WWU, I introduced myself to the woodworking professor on Westerns technology department, Dr Sam Porter.

Since I had attended evening classes at a community college several years earlier, I wanted to know what/how Western's woodworking department had to offer a destitute new faculty member. While I found that there were no opportunity to take classes, I did discover that Sam had some good looking sugar pine planks that he didn't need. And they were so cheap that I could easily afford to buy them.

Further, he let me have access to the workshop on Saturday's so that I could build the table using the institution's stationary tools. Again, my tools at the time were still the hand tools given to me by my uncles on my birthday about 15 years ago, and, unfortunately, these tools were still at my parent's home in Melfort, Saskatchewan, Canada, 1500 miles away. The style of the table is, again, Colonial, ca 1600-1750, called a "trestle" table, the only style that I knew at the time that was simple enough for me to build.

(The illustration above is also in Franklin H. Gottshall's classic 1937 How to Design Period Furniture, on p53. The first five chapters of this textbook, 44 pages, contain, for me at least, perhaps what are for me the 50 most important principles about the design and building of furniture. On these pages,

 

 

 

Gottshall discusses "the division of space and areas," "curved lines and elements, and their application, to outline enrichment," "proportion in furniture," "the sources and kinds of ornament, and its application to furniture design," and "color in furniture". Further, parenthetically, for several reasons, Gottshall is of interest for a history of amateur woodworking. I'll deal with him and his contributions more fully in the chapter that covers the 1930s.)

Colonial furniture, designed in a style reminiscent of primitive English Tudor furniture, is very straight lined, with simple curves and angles, that reasonably, "newbie" woodworkers can master without too much difficulty.

And, in the revival of widespread interest in Arts and Crafts design, primarily because of the furniture simple, straight lines, beginning in the 1980s, where designs are featured in woodworking journals, amateur woodworkers were drawn to constructing furniture in the Arts and Crafts style. Also known as "Craftsman" or "Mission" style, Arts and Crafts design has generated almost a way of life, or, in today's parlance, "lifestyle" : homes, art, furniture, conferences, periodicals, books -- )

Karen, though, soon discovered the cheap, but still solid, furniture that we could purchase in Bellingham's "Old Town", a run-down section of the city where several second hand stores -- which advertised themselves as "antique shops" -- were located. So, in our first years in Bellingham, Karen frequently went to Old Town looking for bargains.

We also got to know other sources of used furniture, and when we could, took advantage of these outlets too.

Soon we had a bevy of old 1920s-style, spindle back chairs, inspired, I think, by the Colonial Windsor chairs, but definitely not as elegant. Still, these chairs exhibit a simple authenticity, and we still treasure them in our home to today. I mention them because in making repairs, I learned some important woodworking skills, including how to and how NOT to replace spindles. (That we only paid $1.00 to 50 cents each for these chairs is a wonder to our kids and their spouses.)

As yet, I haven't identified this captain's chair, pictured below. Because of its construction, I know that it belongs to the "Oak" period, which stretches from ca 1840 to ca 1910. It's machine-made, part of that transition "from production to consumption". I also saw it in a scene -- in an NY apartment -- in the 1973 movie, "The Way We Were". (I still remember, vividly, the asking price by Mr. Walton for this chair> $3.60! Why $3.60, and not $3.50, or $4.00, I never bothered asking.)

 

 

 

Both Karen and I still treasure these chairs today. For me, in particular they are important as markers:

• in an acquisition of skills for a lifelong hobby of woodworking;
• in the social and aesthetic history of America

Academic Reference Librarian as Career Choice

For a woodworking hobby, the career choice, academic reference librarian, is ideal. Research in libraries, whether in paper or digitized sources, is an asset that comes built in. Frequently, when starting a furniture building project I would (and still do) conduct research on a piece of furniture, including locating the historical context from which it emerged, or a tool that I was interested in buying.

 

An example is the pictured table, by the Englishman, Sidney Barnsley, featured in Fine Woodworking September-October,1984, a table that I aspire to make. This table is also featured in Mary Comino, Gimson and the Barnsleys (Van Nostrand, 1980), ch 2, The Arts and Crafts Movement" and Annette Carruthers and Mary Greensted, Good Citizen's Furniture: The Arts and Crafts Collections at Cheltenham .

 

(Image below courtesy The Millinery Works and Jefferson Smith, taken from Arts & Crafts Furniture by John Andrews, published by the Antique Collectors' Club.)
 

 

My encounter with that table began with an accidental find in Henderson's Books, in downtown Bellingham. Henderson's is, evidently, Washington state's largest used bookstore, and always has -- I found, belatedly -- a large section dedicated to use woodworking books. Truth be told, I did not discover this treasure until I retired. Before, for forty years in Bellingham, I had depended upon other sources, and sad to say, missed out on this obviously rich, local, source of woodworking material.

I was drawn to Henderson's large selection of woodworking books, more or less accidentally. My fondness for Arts and Crafts design had grown over the years, fueled by subconscious intellectual suggestions, still not entirely clear to me. [However, here is how I think it happened that I came to admire Arts and Crafts design enough to want to build some pieces myself: ]

Around ?, woodworking magazines began featuring arts and crafts projects. As a national movement, interest in Arts and Crafts started sometime in the 1960s or early 1970s, although the precise catalyst still remains unclear.

(What exactly was the catalyst responsible for the current Arts and Crafts movement? Was it an article by John Freeman Crosby? Or, was it an exhibit in 1972 at a Princeton University museum, curated by professor Robert Judson Clark? For a discussion, scroll down on this page. These are questions that I hope to answer as this project progresses.

Above on the left, is a "hayrake" table by Gordon Russell, in 1931; it evidently "copies" the similar design of Sidney Barnsley. According to Victor J Taylor, Fine Woodworking September-October, 1984, page 72, this style of hayrake table is a "scaled-down" version of a more elaborate "hayrake" table constructed in oak by Sidney Barnsley, with a foot-pedal-powered saw in 1924. Taylor's article  gives shows you how to build the table.

For a black-and-white photo of the Barnsley original, plus two photos of the original wooden hayrake -- located in Gloustershire -- that inspired the project, see pages 118-199, of Mary Comino, Gimson and the Barnsleys: 'Wonderful furniture of a commonplace kind', New York: Van Nostrand, 1982.

The photo above comes from the striking collection of photos and descriptions of furniture of the entire scope of the arts and crafts movement, John Andrews' Arts and Crafts Furniture, Woodbridge, Suffolk, UK, Antique Collectors' Club, 2005, page 191. Right to reproduce being sought 4-22-07)

 

The appearance of Woodworking Magazines

In the mid-1970s, when woodworking magazines, as we know them today, first began to appear, I subscribed to several. (I give more details about this phenomenon in the chapter on the 1970s.) My collection of Fine Woodworking issues start in 1976, BUT with volume one, number one? Probably issue number 3 or 4, I can't say for sure, because my collecting is not that organized . Truth be told, my woodworking magazines are scattered around in many areas of my activities.

When Woodsmith magazine appeared, I did manage to begin with the first issue, January 1979. I also began subscribing to the American Woodworker -- it started in July, 1985 -- when Jim Jennings edited it.

Jennings came to woodworking through a natural route [I mean to get some more info from early AW issues]. Today, Jennings is a retired woodworking teacher, but when he started AW , he was also a teacher. (Jennings subsequently sold AW to Rodale, who in turn sold it to Reader's Digest. I still subscribe to AW, but think that, consistently, it fails to meet the standard achieved under Jennings's leadership) I was also an early subscriber to Woodworker's Journal, when it first appeared in the 1970s [exact date?].

First Power Tool Purchase

My first "larger" power tool was a second-hand 1947 model 10E Shopsmith, serial number 5908.

(I have since learned that an intense -- and very interesting -- set of subcultures have been formed lately -- tightly united around discussion groups on the Internet -- related to the preservation of old woodworking tools, hence my reference above the serial number for the Shopsmith model 10E, that I own. Ownership of a 10E puts me into an elite group, where pride of ownership of models of old woodworking machines with low serial numbers is an achievement. For me -- and I am admitting that I treasure being part of this fraternity/guild -- I sense that the motive for us to strive for ownership of these older artifacts of life is their enduring quality, a sure sign of high standards of manufacture in the past. See red decal below -- my illustrations for the Shopsmith don't do justice to this noble machine. (For a little background, both historical and technical, read this 1951 article on the Shopsmith.) For over 20 years I have stored it under a roof, but not inside, hence the rust. Later, as time allows, I will clean it up and get a better photo.)

Karen purchased the Shopsmith for me in the late 1960s. The price: $150.00, and, in the 1960s, quite a bit out of our domestic budget, yes, but not a lot today. Driven with a 3/4 hp motor, the 1947 Shopsmith is a "combination" tool that includes an 8" saw, a 30" lathe, a horizontal/vertical drill press, a horizontal mortiser, and a 12" disk sander.

 

    
 

 

   

  

The copy of the 1963 Vico Magistretti chair pictured below is one of a set of four chairs I made about 20 years ago using the Shopsmith. The original Magistretti chair that was the inspiration is on the right. (According to an obituary for Magistretti in London's The Guardian, the chair was Magistretti's first great success as a post-World War II furniture designer in Milan Italy. The chair is

... the world famous Carimate chair produced by the Cassina company, headed by Cesare Cassina. The chair was a bestseller for years and mixed rural simplicity (the straw of the seat) with urban sophistication. There were the smooth lines of the wooden supports and legs, the colour, the pop-art bright red frame and elements of Scandinavian design....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Inherent Problem of Using a Shopsmith: Adjustment Time

But the Shopsmith has numerous downsides, as the many former owners will tell you. Like the first small scale power tools manufactured for the homeshop woodworking market of the 1920s and 30s, the table is 16" x 16", too small for anything but small projects. 

One of the problems inherent in using this Shopsmith is the amount of adjustment time needed to make it operate accurately, whether cutting boards with the circular saw, or mortising at an angle, as I needed to when constructing the Italian chairs. For example, in constructing the chair to the left, for the vertical mortising with the drill press, I had no gauges to indicate the angles that I needed. Using the mortising bit chisel, and many hours of sweat and patience, I was able to mortise the compound angles into each chair's four legs. Wisely, I think, I did the mortising while the leg pieces were square, before turning them. Since the back legs are longer than the 30" limit of the lathe, I had to borrow a friend's 48" lathe for turning them. (Note that the legs, at the chair's front, are wider than at the back, which means that the mortises --i.e., "holes" that receive the "tenons" -- need to be cut at an angle. I spent literally hours getting the angle right, by combining a "jig" and my eyes for aligning the mortising bit for the "correct" angle.

Another problem with the Shopsmith was the limited power of its motor. Under powered by a 3/4 hp, 110 volt motor, the 1947 model comprises an 8 inch circular saw, with a tilt-top table (more about tilt top tables below), a miter slot on each side of the blade, a 30 inch lathe, a drill press (operationally, both vertical and horizontal), and 18" sanding disk (driven by the 5/8" arbor).

With an 8 inch saw driven by a 3/4 hp motor, stopping the blade when cutting oak boards, or other similar hardwood, was not unusual. And the 8-inch saw blade's capacity was just over 2 inches, meaning that you can barely cross-cut a 2 x 4, 1 3/4", laying on its flat side. (A 2 x 4, maybe not everybody knows, is a board dimensioned according to an American standard of many years: 2 inches by 4 inches, and of lengths, usually beginning at 8 feet, and ranging to about 16 foot lengths. In reality, while it is called a 2 x 4, the dimensions are 1 1/2" x 3 1/2".)

Exactly when, I forget, but sometime shortly after I obtained the Shopsmith, I came into possession of a 1955 manual for the Shopsmith, Power Tool Woodworking for Everyone. Authored by the revered author of a multitude of woodworking articles and books, R. J. DeCristoforo, it served me well, even though the textbook covered the Shopsmiths of the 1950s, rather than my vintage 1940s machine.

Over the 19 years in our first house, I built many things with that old Shopsmith, including four turned oak chairs -- one is pictured above -- that I still have today.

To be continued 7/1/07