Thanks to my job and the freelance work I do for The Fine Tool Journal, I get to see a lot of specialty handplanes that most people see only in the catalogs or in one of the lusty tomes by The Sandor.

But despite getting to actually use a corebox plane and dozens of other unusual and cool forms, I tend to stick with the basics when I build. I use the jointer plane more than any other bench plane, followed by the smoothing plane and block plane. A few other specialty tools – router planes, a moving fillister and a plow plane – round out my personal set.

One plane I’ve never quite made nice with is the Stanley No. 95, the edge-trimming block plane. This tool is now made by both Veritas and Lie-Nielsen Toolworks in iron or bronze. And though the two brands have some significant differences, the basic form is the same.

The No. 95 is a block plane with a skewed blade and an integral and fixed 90° fence. The idea is that you press the fence against the face of your work and the tool planes the adjacent edge perfectly square to the face.

I’ve never been fond of the tool – I tend to use my jointer plane to dress edges square to the faces. But during the last few projects I’ve built I’ve found the tool in my hand a surprising number of times. I’ve been using it to plane solid-wood edging square and flush to plywood. I’ve been trimming face frames flush to carcases. And I’ve been dressing rails and stiles of doors and face frames before assembly.

That last task finally convinced me that the tool is a gem for a shop that blends power and hand tools. Here’s why: When I dress stock by hand, all the edges of my rails and stiles end up planed square from the jointer plane. So the No. 95 sits idle.

But when I dress my rails and stiles with a powered jointer (as I’m doing this week), the edge-trimming plane shines. The goal there is to remove the toolmarks, to keep the edges perfectly square and to not remove a lot of material. The No. 95 accomplishes all three goals with aplomb. Typically one or two light passes is all it takes to get crisp inside and outside edges on the parts for a frame-and-panel construction.

Here are a few tips for use: First, the set-up is key. The iron has to project evenly from the mouth or your edge won’t be square. Take some test passes and examine the shavings. Their thickness should be the same on both long edges. Shift the iron around until the tool makes a consistent shaving and a square edge.

Second, press down on the toe of the tool with more force than you would use with a block plane. The plane tends to want to rise out of the cut in softer woods. Also, use one hand to press the tool’s fence against the work and use the other hand to press the work against the fence on the opposite side. All this pressure ensures your cut won’t go astray, which can be trouble.

Now, despite my crush on this tool, I haven’t been able to justify getting both a left- and right-hand version, however. Because my stock is dressed with a planer, it’s true on both faces, so I can work with the No. 95’s fence on either face of the stock without worrying about grain direction. The tool can be pushed or pulled with ease.

Now if I could just find the same love for my chisel plane/paperweight I wouldn’t feel so guilt every time I open a certain drawer in my toolbox.

— Christopher Schwarz

Now that we’re publishing Woodworking Magazine four times a year (you can always subscribe via this link), we have an even greater demand for quotations related to woodworking, craft or (on occasion) even artistic expression.

We ran a contest last year to solicit quotations (with great success), and I’d like to run it again to deepen our well of material in reserve. If your quote is picked as the best of all the entries by our editorial staff, we’ll send you a miter plane from Philly Planes. (You can read a review of the plane here, but trust me, it’s an awesome piece of kit).

All the runners-up in this contest (meaning that we publish your quote in the magazine) will receive the hardbound edition of Issues 8 through 12, which will be released at the end of 2008.

Here are the rules:

1. Contest ends on midnight on Friday, May 16, 2008.
2. One entry and one quotation per person.
3. Your entry must be submitted via e-mail to chris.schwarz@fwpubs.com, along with your full name, street address, phone number and valid e-mail.
4. The quotation can be from any source (even yourself). However, it needs to be attributed – where you found it and who said it. Here’s an example: "It's not just about making beautiful furniture, but how do you get rid of it?" — Tage Frid, quoted in an article by Jonathan Binzen in Fine Woodworking.

Here are some tips: Short quotes are better than long quotes. Original or unusual quotes are better than common ones (“Measure twice, cut once.”). Quotes that are funny, make you think or challenge conventional wisdom are always appreciated.

Good luck, and thanks in advance for entering.

— Christopher Schwarz

As woodworkers dive into handwork, they usually start with a block plane, then the bench planes, the saws and the joinery planes.

Joinery planes – such as plow planes, router planes, shoulder planes and rabbeting planes – are some of the easiest planes to set up and use. Their irons are straighforward to sharpen (no curves needed), and because the tool doesn’t produce a show surface, you don’t need to be a maniac about the keenness of your cutting edges.

One of the most essential joinery planes is the moving fillister. It cuts a rabbet either across the grain or with the grain. And it can make a rabbet of almost any size thanks to its adjustable fence.

Moving fillisters are different than other planes in the rabbeting family in that its fence is adjustable (planes with a fixed fence are called standing fillisters), plus it can work across the grain because it has retractable nickers (planes without the nickers are just plain old rabbet planes).

The iron Stanley No. 78 is the most common vintage version of this tool, however I’m not fond of the form. The fence wobbles because of the way it is attached to the body, so the plane does a poor job in hard woods (in my experience). Record, by the way, fixed this problem with its metal version of this plane, though it’s a tough tool to find in North America.

This really is a case where the wooden versions of a plane are superior. Wooden-stock moving fillisters are fairly common in the secondary market, though they usually require some rehabbing to be usable. So what do you do?

You could ask Clark & Williams to make you one – they showed me an excellent moving fillister they make a couple years ago. You could buy an ECE from toolsforworkingwood.com. Or you could buy a new traditional one from Philip Edwards at Philly Planes in England.

Philip’s planes are excellent. I recently reviewed his miter plane plus a plane designed for raising panels for drawer bottoms. They both work like a charm. So it’s very exciting to me (and a good sign for hand work in general) that there is a new moving fillister on the market from Philip’s shop.

We’ve ordered one for our shop here, and I will offer a full report once it arrives. Until then, however, if you need a moving fillister, I can recommend Philip’s planes highly.  

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Want to learn more about joinery planes? Then definitely pick up a copy of “The Wooden Plane” by John M. Whelan.

After three more hours of CAD work last night, I finished up the preliminary drawings for the next cover project for Woodworking Magazine. We're calling this project "An American Wall Cabinet." But right now a more apt name would be "An R-5 Wall Cabinet."

This morning I spent about 45 minutes building the face frame, tombstone door and drawer front of the cabinet using the pink ½"-thick Foamular insulation board. I taped up the joints with packing tape. Then I printed out the hardware from the Horton Brasses web site, cut it out (Horton scaled it full-size!) and taped it in place.

If you ever wonder how woodworking magazines get away with coverlines like "Build a Bench in a Weekend," this is it. It's our trade secret. We just build it out of Foamular.

After a dry-fit of all the parts (no tape), I determined that the mediary rail in the door was too wide. So I shaved off ½" with a ruler and a knife and it looked much better. Then Senior Editor Glen Huey and I placed the rattail hinges on the stiles so they would work well and look good.

This short exercise also drove me to plan on adding some stopped chamfers on the stiles of the face frame when I build it out of walnut. So all in all, it was worth the $10.

If you've never worked with Foamular, it's a cinch to cut with a knife and a ruler. I used my Tite-Mark gauge to first score the foam's plastic film. Then I followed up with the knife. To make the curve in the tombstone door, I drew it with a compass. The pencil lead didn't cut the foam; it made a furrow in the film. Then my knife could easily follow that furrow to complete the cut.

And what are we going to do with the leftover foam? Easy. I use it for slicing up plywood with a circular saw. I lay the foam down on the driveway, put the plywood on top, and set the sawblade to cut through the plywood and slightly into the foam (and not the concrete). Works every time.

— Christopher Schwarz

So today I get a copy of the WoodWorker's Book Club bulletin and it lists the "Top 50 Member Favorites." I eagerly flipped through to see if my book on workbenches made the list.

It did. It was No. 30.

I was quite pleased by this bit of news. It was good to be on the same list as Taunton's "Complete Illustrated Guides" (at No. 1), Kerry Pierce's "Pleasant Hill Shaker Furniture" (No. 2) and Jim Tolpin's "Measure Twice, Cut Once" (No. 3, and one of my favorite woodworking books).

But my moment of glee was quickly flung into the dirty litterbox when I saw what aced me out at No 28: "Black & Decker's 24 Weekend Projects for Pets."  

That put my tail between my legs. Time to go home and start writing that birdhouse book I've had on the back burner.

— Christopher Schwarz

When a young Thomas Lie-Nielsen set out to start making premium handplanes in the early 1980s, he launched his business with an adaptation of the Stanley No. 95 edge-trimming plane.

But Lie-Nielsen wasn't the first person to make this tool in bronze. That footnote goes to machinist Ken Wisner, who made the planes in small batches and sold them through the Garrett Wade catalog. When Wisner decided to get out of that business, he turned over his patterns to Lie-Nielsen, who took them to Maine and set up shop in a shack on his farm.

I've always wanted to own one of these Wisner planes – partly out of curiosity and partly out of my desire to own a piece of recent history. But they're hard to come by. And they're expensive when they do come up on eBay.

So this weekend, I got a little schoolgirl thrill when Jeff Skiver pulled a Wisner out of his bags of tools during a class on handplanes at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking. He wasn't looking to sell it, and I won't tell you what he paid for it. Suffice it to say that Skiver practically stole it from a starving widow who had substantial medical bills.

The Wisner is an interesting piece of work. On the one hand, the main casting was nicely polished and the machined areas were crisp and clean. But the thumbscrew on the lever cap was black plastic (the screw itself was metal, however). And the main screw that joined the lever cap, iron and body casting was an off-the-shelf hex-head screw.

Wisner signed his name on the plane with some sort of rotary tool (perhaps a Dremel). And the blade was thinner than the Lie-Nielsen version.

Of course, when you are blazing a trail like Wisner was, you have to overlook details like this and appreciate the sheer fact that this plane exists. Plus, look at what this little plane led to in Warren, Me.

And if anyone has a Wisner plane they'd like to part with (for the sake of history, natch) please drop me a line.

— Christopher Schwarz

This fall, our magazine is sponsoring the first-ever weekend conference devoted to hand tools and learning to use them.

We're calling it the Woodworking in America conference, and we'll be bringing together the country's best hand-tool woodworkers and manufacturers for a symposium in Berea, Ky., on Nov. 14-16.

There will be more than 40 short classes on tools and techniques during the long weekend, plus a marketplace where toolmakers can display (and sell) their wares, social events with the demonstrators and toolmakers and more.

So who is going to be there? Here's the list of people who have agreed to teach seminars during Woodworking in America as of this date (with more to come):

Roy Underhill: Known as "St. Roy" to the legion of fans who watch "The Woodwright's Shop" on PBS, Roy worked at Colonial Williamsburg and then launched his show about traditional hand tools.

Frank Klausz: One of the country's consummate craftsmen, Frank is a professional New Jersey cabinetmaker who trained in Hungary and has a lifetime of experience with the full range of handwork.

Michael Dunbar: Founder of The Windsor Institute, Michael has single handedly revived the craft of building Windsor chairs, has trained thousands of woodworkers and is a passionate student of the art and history of handcraft.

Adam Cherubini: The author of Popular Woodworking's popular "Arts & Mysteries" column, Adam is a devoted 18th-century woodworker who builds period pieces using period tools.

James Blauvelt: A Connecticut cabinetmaker, joiner and carpenter, James owns Bluefield Joiners and is a student and teacher of Japanese tools and traditions.

Robin Lee: The president of Lee Valley Tools in Ottawa, Ontario, Robin has been a driving force behind the expansion of the Veritas line of premium handplanes and a caretaker of the company's immense tool collection.

Thomas Lie-Nielsen: The founder of Lie-Nielsen Toolworks in Warren, Me., Thomas has been making and selling premium traditional hand tools for 27 years. Thomas's company was the trailblazer in reviving many traditional forms of tools that had been lost.

Larry Williams and Don McConnell: Two of the principals behind Clark & Williams in Eureka Springs, Ark., Larry and Don are bottomless wells of information about traditional tools and their workings. Both are accomplished woodworkers, planemakers and tool historians.

John Economaki: The founder of Bridge City Tool Works in Portland, Ore., John has long been a pioneer in developing new (and very beautiful) forms of hand tools for woodworkers.

Konrad Sauer: The owner of Sauer & Steiner Toolworks in Ontario, Konrad is one of the leading makers of custom infill handplanes.

Wayne Anderson:Wayne specializes in designing and building custom infill handplanes that are deeply rooted in the past but are each a completely original work of art.

Ron Hock: One of the earliest and most important players in the revival of handtools, Ron makes high-quality replacement plane irons, chipbreakers and marking knives in Ft. Bragg, Calif.

Mike Wenzloff: The founder of Wenzloff & Sons sawmakers in Forest Grove, Ore., Mike is a long-time woodworker and expert in saws and saw sharpening. His premium saw business has exploded in the last two years.

Joel Moskowitz: The founder of Tools for Working Wood and an expert on woodworking history, Joel has recently been making many traditional hand tools, as well as selling them through his catalog and web site.

Clarence Blanchard: The publisher of "The Fine Tool Journal" and the president of Brown Auction Services, Clarence sees more old tools in a week than most of us see in a lifetime.

If you are interested in attending, please visit the web site that is dedicated to this conference at WoodworkinginAmerica.com and sign up for the conference's newsletter (the sign-up box is on the top right of the page). You'll then be the first to be notified of when registration will open (it will be before July 1) and the pricing for this event.

Attendance will be limited to a few hundred people (we want to keep the event intimate and manageable), so be sure to register as soon as slots become available. We are expecting the conference to sell out.

There are more announcements and surprises ahead that I cannot share with you right now, so please stay tuned to the blog and the conference's newsletter.

— Christopher Schwarz

For me, finger joints have always been the nerdy, square cousin to the dovetail.

Finger joints are immensely strong when glued properly. But they are usually used by beginning woodworkers in places where a dovetail would be more appropriate, such as on a piece of 18th-century casework.

Add to that the fact that finger joints are tricky or dangerous to make on wide boards (without a commercial jig) plus the fact that gluing them with yellow glue is stressful, and it's a wonder that anyone uses them at all.

And so we decided to tackle finger joints for the Summer 2008 issue of Woodworking Magazine, which will be shipping to subscribers next month. It took us a few months to really pin them down (pun intended), but I think we nailed it (and no, cut nails are not involved).

Here's a small taste of some of the problems of the joint we solved after three months of testing in our shop:

Appearance: Finger joints are a product of the machine age. Using them in styles before circa 1900 is just wrong to the eye. So consider the joint for more contemporary pieces only.

Cutting them Accurately: Right now there are basically two different ways to cut the joint: A shop-made jig for the table saw for narrow boards, and using a router jig that costs several hundred dollars for wide boards. We set out to develop a simple and safe shop-made jig that could handle both wide and narrow boards. Senior Editor Robert W. Lang had a stroke of genius on this and solved the problem forever (in my opinion).

Gluing Them Easily: You can assemble small boxes with finger joints fairly easily when using yellow glue. But at a certain point, you hit the wall because the glue sets up before you can close all the joints. So the solution would seem to be a slow-setting glue. Well, that's one way to go about it. But we found an easier and faster way that is super-strong (see the photo of Managing Editor Megan Fitzpatrick's boot on a sample joint). In the end, it took an anvil to bust up our sample joints.

Also in the Summer 2008 Issue
The finger joint is just one of the major themes running through the issue. Here are some of the other stories you can look for in the coming issue:

Building a Better Chest: Most woodworkers build chests using the most convoluted and fussy assembly imaginable. After reviewing hundreds of historical models, we settle on a method for building a chest that looks more complex at first glance, but actually saves an immense amount of shop time, requires less fussing around and allows more design flexibility.

Crackle Finishing: Many woodworkers who try a crackle finish have inconsistent results. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't. And predicting how much it's going to crackle is almost impossible. Senior Editor Glen D. Huey cracks the code of crackle finish and finds out that the easiest and most predictable way to do it is also the simplest.

Trimming End Grain: When you have to cut back some end grain so it's flush with some face grain, it's always an opportunity to mess up the project. We show you two (actually three) methods for doing it right every time with a block plane, sander and pencil eraser.

And one more thing about the Summer 2008 issue: This issue is going to be mailed out to subscribers in a protective plastic bag, which will reduce the chances that the postal service will mangle it. If the plastic bag works for you, let us know so we can encourage our manufacturing division to continue using it.

And if you're not a subscriber, you can easily remedy that here.

— Christopher Schwarz

About a decade ago, my boss Steve Shanesy told me something about design that knocked me flat. When he was a struggling custom furniture maker, he took some time off to do something that few people do.

Create a new style of furniture.

That is one of the most ambitious personal projects I could imagine. I wonder if there has there been a new style of furniture created in my lifetime. Does James Krenov’s work constitute a new style? Sam Maloof? George Nakashima? I don’t know the answer to this question, but I do know how one mouth-breather of a woodworker (me) goes about it.

And because I never tire of hearing how other people design pieces, I thought I’d share with you the convoluted path I’m taking this week to make a simple thing for our fall 2008 issue.

I like old furniture – anything from Ancient Egypt to World War II interests me greatly. So when I set out to build something I hit the books to look at as many examples of furniture and decorative objects from that period as I can. In this case, we decided to build an 18th-century wall cabinet for the fall issue, so I cracked open all my books from Wallace Nutting, particularly “A Furniture Treasury.” This out-of-print book is available in many forms and is fairly inexpensive. I paid $20 for my two-volume set at Half-Price Books.

I might not look at wall cabinets when I scan these books. I look at lots of casework pieces and their proportions, mouldings and the arrangement of the components, such rails and stiles from doors.

When I’m saturated (a few trips through the treasury will do that), I’ll start sketching. It’s not formal. I just draw without regard to perfectly straight lines or dimensions. I sketch in the car while waiting for the kids to finish track practice. Or in the few minutes of peace I get between the bedtimes of the two kids. I sketch things that I’m sure won’t work just to give them their day in ink.

The more examples I draw, the better the chance I’ll hit something I really like. I don’t use the Golden Section or any other mathematical formula. It’s all gut.

Then I fire up a CAD program on my laptop and try to turn the sketches into something that can be built and has some dimensions that make sense – a dining table that’s 30” high, for example.

While In CAD I’ll make a few variations that take advantage of the cut-and-paste power of the program. I’ll move the drawers and doors around. Add a cupholder. With this wall cabinet I tried it with two doors (like the Nutting original), one door, then a door with a drawer.

Then I show the CAD drawings to others and ask them which ones they like. Why they like it isn’t as important – though I always ask. Maddy, my 12-year-old, liked the two-door version of this cabinet because of the symmetry and that you could display two contrasting pieces of pottery behind the glass panes. Katy, the 8-year-old, liked the drawer because it could be used to “hold little things.” Lucy, my wife, declined to put a dog in that fight.

Next stop: If I have time, I’ll knock together a prototype in poplar to see if it looks awkward. Prototyping always pays off in two ways: I make small adjustments that improve the design, and I’ll typically keep the prototype for our family.

— Christopher Schwarz

Editor's note: Because it's "Workbench Week Internazionale" I decided to tie up a loose end from my book: "Workbenches: from Blah, blah blah to Yadda yadda yadda." On page 57 I discuss Thomas Stangeland's bench and point out how the best woodworking I've seen has been built on the most minimal of workbenches.

Helpful reader Tom Moore visited Stangeland's shop recently and snapped the above photo of the bench. Below is the story that goes with that workbench.


In 2006 I taught a class in handwork at a school where Thomas Stangeland, a maestro at Greene & Greene-inspired work, was also teaching a class. Though we both strive for the same result in craftsmanship, the process we each use couldn’t be more different. He builds furniture for a living, and he enjoys it. I build furniture because I enjoy it, and I sell an occasional piece.

One evening we each gave a presentation to the students about our work. One of the pieces I showed was an image of my French workbench. I discussed its unusual workholding devices and how the bench was a bit of a Thor Heyerdahl experience.

Thomas then got up and said he wished he had a picture to show of his workbench for the last decade: a door on a couple horses. He said that a commercial shop had no time to waste on building a traditional bench. And with his power-tool approach, he just needed a flat surface and some clamps to work.

It’s hard to argue with the end result. His furniture is beautiful.

But what’s important to note here is that you can get by with the door-off-the-floor approach, but there are many commercial woodworkers who still see the utility of a traditional workbench. Chairmaker and furnituremaker Brian Boggs uses more newfangled routers and shop-made devices with aluminum extrusions than I have ever seen in a shop. And he still has two enormous traditional workbenches that see constant use.

The point here is that a good bench won’t make you a better woodworker. And a not-quite-a-bench won’t doom you to failure. But a good bench in any shop will make many power-tool operations easier and open the door to permit you to try many hand-tool operations. The bench is simply another tool. It’s the biggest wooden clamp in the shop.

As Thomas was wrapping up his part of the show he showed an interesting slide of an enormous and thick slab of an exotic wood he had been stashing for years and years in his shop.

“I just need to find the right project for it,” he said.

“Hey Thomas,” I heckled, “that slab sure would make a great benchtop.”

He laughed. Next slide, please.

— Christopher Schwarz

Matt Vanderlist has just posted a podcast of a conversation he and I had last week. I hesitate to call it an interview because it sounds a lot like us just goofing around and joking about woodworking.

So I guess, it actually just sounds a lot like a day at the office.

In any case, we discuss handsawing, premium tools and how we generate story ideas here at Woodworking Magazine and Popular Woodworking. Plus Matt and I brainstorm an idea for a shop garment that ensures you never have to take a break while woodworking – and it composts the yard. (If anyone has a good name for this product, post it here.)

It was a fun conversation and if you have some time at your desk and want to look like you're working… I highly recommend it.

— Christopher Schwarz

If you were charmed by Harrelson Stanley's Japanese workbench, then here is another variant for you that was built by Russ Merz of Cincinnati, Ohio.

Merz built this bench about seven years ago. The horses were built using scrap oak salvaged from pallets. The beam was built from 2x4 construction lumber.

"I read about these and just had to have one," Merz writes. "I think you know the feeling."

Here are the stats: The trestles are 20" high and 38" wide. Each foot is 21" long. The slab is 3-1/8" x 8-3/4" x 68".

So how does he like using the bench? Well, he doesn't. The parts for the bench usually sit below his European-style workbench. But for our benefit, he dusted them off, set them up outside and snapped these photos.
 
"Even though I never use this, it was fun making," Merz writes. "About a year or so after you make this (bench), brush off the dust, sign it, put it on eBay and donate the proceeds to your favorite charity."

— Christopher Schwarz

Woodworker James Oliver has built a massive workbench with French lines (tree trunk legs), English-style workholding (a twin-screw face vise) and some modern practicality (a quick-release vise in the end-vise position).

When I first posted photos of Oliver's bench in January, readers wanted to see more photos – not only of the bench, but of the shop. Oliver, who works part-time for Coastal Carvings in Coombs, British Columbia, obliged with these two other views of his bench and shop. Click on the photos to see the full-size versions.

The layout for a hand-tool shop is pretty sweet. There's a saw till at the right of the photo with planes above. The window directly behind the bench is also home to a rack with striking and boring tools. And check out the nice collection of chisels on the left.

For me, however, the best part is the floor. Our shop in Cincinnati has a concrete floor, as does my shop at home. Almost every year, I come up with some scheme to lay a wooden floor in both shops, but something (usually my love of eating meat once in a while) gets in the way.

Thanks to Oliver for these photos of another inspiring shop and bench.

— Christopher Schwarz

Many readers were interested in Bill Liebold's sliding leg vise, which he installed on his Roubo-meets-Dominy-style workbench (I'm just going to call this form the "Bill Bench" from here out).

Liebold liked the sliding aspect of the leg vise because when you used it in tandem with a fixed leg vise, you could clamp just about anything. Need to dovetail a 24"-wide case side? That's child's play for this set-up. How about planing an entryway door? Just as easy.

This sliding leg vise arrangement was shown in a plate in Andre Roubo's 18th century treatise on woodworking, but I've never seen one in the wild on an old bench. Perhaps that's because there is a weakness to the original design (or my employer is not funding enough trips to France for me). Liebold said the pressure applied by the screw could bow the front edge of the bench out. This occurred because the vise runs in a track on the underside of the benchtop. When hard pressure was applied, the tongue that rides in the track would push out in some cases, bowing the front of the bench.

Liebold, however, has now fixed that problem. The solution? Steel.

"Well, I just had to make my sliding leg vice work in a permanent way so I wouldn’t have to worry about it breaking," Liebold writes. He lined the track with steel (you can get this from a home center).

So how does it work?

"Now the weakest part of the vice is the parallel guide," Liebold writes. "I cinched down on a piece of basswood until I could hear wood starting to crackle. I was able to dent the basswood and I bent the brass pin in the parallel guide. Success!"
 
— Christopher Schwarz

Now you can download six free SketchUp drawings for projects published in Woodworking Magazine during the last four years.

These files work with Google's free drafting program, SketchUp, and allow you to take the projects apart, see the joinery and view the projects at any angle. These files are great for understanding how a project goes together before you start building it.

These files were provided by draughtsman Louis Bois, who has been providing technical illustrations for Woodworking Magazine for the last couple issues. Louis does these drawings as a free service to the readers, so please join me in thanking him for his hard work.

The projects below are some our favorites:

Shaker Hanging Cabinet: This is the cover project from Issue No. 1. I've built this project about five times now for various family members and customers, and it is always well-received.

HangingShakerCabinet.zip (100.4 KB)

Shaker Side Table: This project from Issue 2 has enormous popularity. The delicate legs and fine proportions of the top make this project one of my favorites.

Sliding-lid Box: Also from Issue 2, this box is a great lesson in how to build drawer boxes (with one table-saw set-up) and makes a great home for your chisels.

SlidingLidBox.zip (31.44 KB)

Dining Room Tray: From Issue 5, this project is a great lesson in learning to use cut nails (and a tanning bed) to build a nice cherry project.

DiningRoomTray.zip (24.34 KB)

Enfield Cabinet: Also from Issue 6, this tall cabinet -- it looks like a jelly cupboard I suppose -- is an excellent lesson in vintage case construction techniques.

American Trestle Table: This cover project from Issue 6 has a special place in my heart because the prototype is my dining room table. Endless nights of homework have trashed the perfect film finish, but I like it even more now than they day I finished it.

AmericanTrestleTable.zip (75.25 KB)

All of these files are compressed in a .zip format. Double-clicking on them will unzip them.

— Christopher Schwarz

Some of my favorite tools came from the hands of Kevin Drake, the founder of Glen-Drake Toolworks in Ft. Bragg, Calif.

Anyone who has been in our shop for more than 30 seconds knows my affection for the Tite-Mark cutting gauge. It is, hands down, without equal. And I wouldn't want to work wood without it. (You can download a pdf of my 2005 Endurance Test of this tool using the link below.)

TiteMarkENDTEST.pdf (121.29 KB)

But Drake makes other extraordinary tools. His chisel hammers are excellent (I use the No. 3 size). His plane-adjusting hammer is on the rack in my shop at home and taps every plane iron into position in my work.

Lately Drake has been developing a line of tools that help with dovetailing, including a scraper-like tool that starts your saw kerf, and a new dovetail saw with two handles. We've been itching to bring Drake to our shop for a hand-on workshop and now we have finally arranged a free evening workshop for readers at 6 p.m. on May 8 in our shop in Cincinnati.

If you've never been to these events, they're a tremendous amount of fun. We serve you dinner, and then Drake will demonstrate his new saw (and other tools). Then you'll have an opportunity to use the tools in our shop and ask all the questions you like. And if you hang around late enough, we usually end up all going out for a beer afterward.

Right now we have about 10 spots still open for the workshop. If you want to attend, please send an e-mail to Megan Fitzpatrick at megan.fitzpatrick@fwpubs.com to reserve a spot.

I've known Drake for many years and he is both an accomplished woodworker and toolmaker. After a career as a musician, Drake attended the College of the Redwoods under James Krenov. He's a fascinating and thoughtful guy, and I'm certain he's going to put on an excellent show. Hope to see you there.

— Christopher Schwarz

As I was unpacking my tools for the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event in Chicago this weekend, John Economaki from Bridge City Tools stepped up to my workbench with an astonishing piece of wood.

It was a narrow slice off the end of a dowel that was .004" thick. It was cut with a handsaw.

"I cut this with my new saw," Economaki said. "You ready for a rematch?"

Earlier this fall, he and I had a sawing contest to see who could make the thinnest crosscut (he won that contest; see the full story here). Economaki handed me the paper-thin slice and I knew two things: I didn't want a rematch, but I definitely wanted to see his new saw.

Turns out it is more than just a handsaw. It's a Japanese sawblade mounted in a frame that was topped with sliding tables. It is, in essence, a hand-powered table saw with sliding tables. Economaki calls it the Jointmaker Pro, and it's going to be available this summer (most likely June, Economaki said).

In this photo, Economaki pulled away the stops so you can see what the cutting action looks like across the sloped blade.

Here are the particulars: The sawblade is mounted teeth-up in the frame of the Jointmaker. And the blade slopes up from the front of the tool to the rear. On top of the Jointmaker are two sliding tables – one on either side of the blade – that slide on dovetailed ways (no bearings, just a perfect fit).

Some of the controls are like a table saw: You raise and lower the blade with a crank, and you can bevel the blade left and right. To make common cuts, the Jointmaker Pro comes with a series of stops that you can set for the particular bevel angles.

Look familiar? The Jointmaker Pro has controls similar to a table saw. And as a bonus it bevels both left and right.

The two sliding tables can be moved in tandem at any angle between 0° to 47° by securing the Jointmaker Pro's wooden fence across them. Then you simply secure your work on the table with a couple very clever hold-downs and – zip – push the work over the blade.

The slope of the 28-tpi crosscut blade (a rip blade is available) cuts the work with surprisingly little effort. But how much wood can you cut with a human-powered table saw? Economaki said you can cut stock up to 5" wide and 1-1/2" thick. Thick stock requires a lot more strokes against the blade, but it's easy (I tried it).

What is most surprising about the tool is the resulting cut. It is the cleanest sawcut I've ever seen, whether by hand or power. Economaki made dozens of different kinds of cuts during the hand-tool event for dovetails, tenons, half-laps and bridles – and all them were flawless from the saw.

At the end of the show, he made a series of compound miters, and they went together with an air-tight fit.

Economaki said the idea for the tool came to him during a sleepless night.

"I began by putting a Japanese saw blade upside down in a vise," he said. "I made a cut by pushing the work over the blade, and the light went on."
 
The Jointmaker Pro will cost $1,195 retail, Economaki said, but there will be an introductory price of $995.

"It costs 10 times that of a good dozuki," he said. "Yet you get perfect results."

— Christopher Schwarz

The best hand drills ever made came out of the Millers Falls factory in the first half of the 20th century. While many people used these drills for boring holes in metal, the tools proved remarkably adept at becoming the first generation of cordless drills for woodworking.

These drills are today called eggbeater drills because of the way the drive mechanism works. The main gear turns either one or two pinions on the tool’s shaft to turn the chuck backward or forward – just like an old kitchen eggbeater.

My favorite eggbeater drills are the Nos. 2, 2A and 5 made by Millers Falls. These drills were made to an astonishingly high degree of precision, and are easily comparable to tools manufactured today by Lie-Nielsen Toolworks, Veritas, Wenzloff & Sons, Adria or Gramercy.

The eggbeater drills are fairly common at flea markets, but they are also usually in dogmeat shape. The gears are rusted. The bearings are gummed up. The wood knobs are dried out and cracked. The frames have lost all their paint.

But now Wiktor Kuc, the owner of WKTools.com and WKFineTools.com, is restoring and selling these drills on his website and on eBay. He recently sent me a Millers Falls No. 5 that he has restored, and I am just stunned by the quality of the restoration.

This tool looks better than any example of a Millers Falls I’ve ever seen. It looks good no matter how close you examine it. Inside the chuck. At the seam between the ferrule and the handle. Where the pinions mesh with the main gear.

Kuc says he’s been restoring these kinds of drills for a year. He’s been learning the best way to disassemble and clean the tools, how to apply principles from jewelers to polish the metalwork, and how to deal with the dried-out wood.

“I started doing this for myself,” Kuc says. “I love to restore old tools. I read Herb Keane’s book (‘Restoring Antique Tools’) and it blew my roof off. I had to learn to do that.”

Since he started restoring drills (and some braces), Kuc’s resurrected more than 130 Millers Falls drills, 30 Goodell-Pratt drills and a number of braces.

He takes all the drills apart as much as possible, strips them clean and then rebuilds them so they look and work perfectly. The ones he can restore to their full glory Kuc sells on his web site after four to five coats of paint and refinishing everything. The drills that he cannot get perfect he sells on eBay at a reduced price, though they are functionally perfect.

The perfect drills cost between $60 and $110, depending on their rarity. On eBay, the current crop of drills cost between $50 and $90. Are they worth it? Absolutely. If you want a cordless drill that will never run out of juice (until you run out of juice) an eggbeater like this is ideal for any toolbox.

These tools have small chucks that are great for furniture-scale twists and brad-point bits. I use hand drills all the time when making pilot holes, especially for screws or nails.

And one more thing: If you already have a Millers Falls drill, Kuc also sells reproduction parts for these drills that are usually missing, such as the side knobs and the bits that are stored in the handles.

Millers Falls drills are very common, so if you don’t want a restored one you’ll be able to find them at garage sales, flea markets and eBay (they are not scarce by any measure). But if you want the best – a tool that looks as good as it works, check out Kuc’s selection. Highly recommended by me (and banned by wivesagainstschwarz.com).

— Christopher Schwarz

If you haven't surmised it yet, one of the themes running through the Spring 2008 issue is the fact that accurate sawing has a lot more to do with accurate chisel work than anything else. When you cut a tenon shoulder, it's the chisel that cuts the part of the joint that shows – the saw just removes the waste below.

Several readers have picked up on this theme, and they've also pointed out (politely, I might add) what looks like a contradiction in my instructions about chiseling.

In the article on the Stickley Tabourets, I'm chiseling the joint line for the half-lap joint with the bevel of the chisel facing away from the waste (you can see this on page 10). A few pages later (page 19) I'm chiseling the shoulder for a tenon with the bevel of the chisel facing into the waste.

Have I finally taken one too many sips of La Fin Du Monde?

Perhaps, but I did have a good reason for what I did – I just didn't have the room in the issue to explain it. So here goes:

When you deepen a knife line by striking it with a chisel, there are two important things to consider. First is what shape the resulting knife line will be, and second is how much the chisel will shift when you rap its handle with a mallet.

The first part is easy to understand. Chisels are wedge-shaped. They have a flat face and a bevel. So when you knock the tool straight down into your work it makes a "V"-shaped cut that is a photocopy of this shape. One side of the V is straight up and down. The other side of the V is sloped.

The second part also has to do with the fact that chisels are wedges. When you drive a chisel with a mallet, it doesn't want to travel straight down in a line that's parallel to the flat face of the chisel. Instead, it wants to travel at an angle that is halfway between the bevel and the flat face. So if you have a 20° bevel on your chisel (as I do in the paring chisel shown in the articles), the chisel doesn't want to travel at 90° (straight down), it wants to move at 80°. (This assumes you have wood pushing back equally on the bevel and the face of the chisel.)

This is why when you are chiseling out your waste between dovetails that the chisel is always trying to move toward (and even cross) your baseline.

Whew. With all that on the table, I can now explain why I did what I did.

When chiseling a tenon shoulder, the shape of the line created by the chisel is critical. I want it perfectly square so it will close tight with the stile. So I chisel the joint with the bevel facing the waste. If this so happens to shrink the overall length of the tenoned part by 1/128", I can live with that. I want the joint to be tight more than I care about its final length.

When chiseling a half-lap joint, my considerations are different. This isn't a show joint, so I just want it to be tight and structural. The shoulder line isn't as critical. That's why I chisel with the bevel facing away from the waste. The chisel will then drift into the waste a tad. So when I saw the joint, the notch made by the chisel will encourage the saw to cut a half-lap that is just a tad tight. Then I can plane the piece's mate to get a perfect fit.

This might be a little fussy for you. If so, I apologize. A chisel seems so simple (it's a steel and wooden corndog!), but it actually is a subtle instrument (like a corndog with chorizo inside). Play around with the tool. Try it with the bevel out and then with the bevel in. And let us know what you discover.

— Christopher Schwarz

One of my (many) blind spots in woodworking is Japanese tools and shop practices. Sure, I’ve read Toshio Odate’s excellent autobiography, plus “The Genius of Japanese Carpentry.” And I drool with great regularity on the Japan Woodworker catalog.

But I understand Japanese shop practices as much as I understand all the acronyms my 12-year-old daughter uses when texting. DFLA!

So I’m always eager to learn about Japanese woodworking from people who have studied and practiced it in Japan. One of those people is Harrelson Stanley, the owner of JapaneseTools.com and the man who brought Shapton waterstones to American shores.

Stanley completed the furniture program at the premier North Bennett Street School as a very young man and then went off to Japan to study the traditional lacquering and woodworking trades. He came back to this country with a Japanese wife and a deep desire to spread the traditional Japanese practices among Western woodworkers.

This weekend at the Northeastern Woodworkers Association's annual show, Stanley was demonstrating his new Sharp Skate honing guide, teaching people to sharpen edge tools and helping people learn to wield a handplane on his Japanese bench.

The bench consists of two trestle-style sawhorses that are topped with one massive slab of a top. Except for the teak planing stop, all the bench’s parts are made using Port Orford Cedar, Stanley says, a durable and strong member of the cypress family that grows in the Pacific Northwest.

This particular bench was built by James Blauvelt, a Connecticut cabinetmaker, joiner and carpenter who runs the company Bluefield Joiners. But is this bench typical of what would be found in a Japanese workshop?

“Actually, it’s a little too nice,” Stanley says. “In a Japanese shop they would use something more makeshift.”

Harrelson Stanley demonstrates how the notch in the top is used to true a plane's sole.

Here are some of the critical dimensions: The trestles are made from 3-1/2” x 3-1/2” stock throughout, with an overall height of 23-3/4” from the floor to the top of each sawhorse. The top is 3-1/2” thick, 10-1/4” wide and 8’ long. The working height of the benchtop is 27-1/2”, which is fairly low by modern Western standards.

The slab rests on the sawhorses and is held in place by a single cleat below the top that fits against the top of one of the sawhorses. Gravity and the force of the work keeps the top in place.

The top is considerably narrower than the sawhorses, which prompted me to ask why. Is that where stock was placed before or after it was worked? Not really, Stanley says. Typically, the Japanese woodworker would place a thin board across the two trestles and place the tools he or she needed on that board. Because this board is thin, it typically kept the tools out of the way of the work.

Another interesting feature of the benchtop is a triangular notch cut into the slab up near the planing stop. This notch holds Japanese planes with their soles facing up so the craftsman can dress the tool’s wooden sole with another plane.

As I was taking a few photos of the bench, one of Stanley’s daughters, Abby, demonstrated her planing skills on a piece of Port Orford Cedar (that wasn’t part of the workbench). After taking a couple warm-up passes, she pulled off a beautiful shaving that was almost entirely full width and full length. And, as you can see, the bench wasn’t too high for her.

— Christopher Schwarz