Sunday, May 10, 2015

Table Progress - Part V

Last week we left off with half the steam bent parts for the table completed, so one would probably assume that this week I would get the other half done this past week. That would be a good assumption, except that suddenly summer pitched up. Since there is still another month and a half before the astronomical commencement of summer, I am gambling that there will be some cooler weather before then, and it will be much more comfortable to burn my fireplace for 6 hours when the temperature is not 32 (90 F) degrees outside. I did continue working on the table this week, though, and this posting will look at some of what was accomplished.



All central field parts joined now



In part 3 of this series, I began making the table top, but all the segments were not yet joined up. My process was to work it up in stages, joining three pieces at a time. Once these sections were finished, there were two planks left over which were intended for the ends. Upon reaching this stage, I joined two sections of three pieces, and one end piece, creating two halves of the top. The final step was to join the two halves together as you see in the above photo. After these last pins are cut off flush, I will do a final planing of the entire top to get one uniform surface. Once that is accomplished, it will be ready to add the inside and outside frame, completing the table top. In this photo you can also see the two extension leaves, joined, glued, and planed flat.

Another thing I began working on was the turning of the legs. Wood turning is fun and enjoyable, but it can also make a huge mess, therefore, I always do it out-of-doors. The warm weather was perfect for doing this, so I dragged out some pieces that were cut up a few years ago, and have been waiting for something to do ever since.



3 quarter sections of an elm log, rescued from a firewood pile a few
years back.




Unfortunately, these pieces were not quite large enough to get a leg of the size I wanted, so they will have to have a little extra material added. This is much closer to the size I need, though, than what one could get at a sawmill which is only 25 or 50mm thicknesses. (1 or 2 inches) These pieces were too long, which was good, because they had checked (cracked) at the ends; by cutting each end off, I was able to get rid of those problems.


cut to length (yes, with a hand saw)




In order to glue more material on the sides, they need to be planed smooth; in order to do that, I need two flat sides to be able to hold it in the vice. I mark a line parallel the edge, this will be cut off with a saw...


making a square edge



Once the edges are squared up, the pieces can be planed and the inside faces formed at right angles...


truing up the faces



Once these are finished, the additional material can be glued on.


gluing the additional pieces to get the required dimensions



One of the primary reasons most glue joins fail is because someone did not cramp it together well enough. To get a good join, the glue must be pressed into the pores of the wood, and the entire surface on both joining members must be thoroughly covered with glue, (but not an excessive amount). A good way to ensure that all surfaces are properly mated to one another is to use a lot of cramps. Care must be taken though, not to over-tighten them or all the glue will be forced out. If the glue was put on correctly and the cramping was adequate, these parts should remain firmly joined as one until some far distant future when the worms or fire reduce them to dust.


getting ready to turn



One of the hardest things to turn on a lathe is an out-of balance block of wood. In order to get it a little more balanced, I used a draw knife to remove some of the access material from the corners. I don't want to go too deep, though, because when I put it on the lathe, it may not be perfectly centred and then I might wind up with a flat spot on one side. It is rather difficult to find the centre of a non symmetrical piece; the best way is to use a compass set at the diameter you wish and make sure when you draw your circle that no part of it runs off the timber. This will automatically establish your centre point as the point where the compass pivoted. Once the edges have been knocked off, it is time to start turning.


Setting out the base of the leg



The first stage of turning something is to get it all to a uniform cylinder of the maximum size possible with the blank you are working with. Once that is established, I jump right in with one or the other end and start removing everything that is hiding the shape which I know is in the blank. I usually have a stick with my key points marked out as a reference to go by, but do not draw every ring on the cylinder, as they would very quickly get removed anyway; I just keep checking against my gauge as the work progresses. usually, when I turn two like pieces, they are done  together as mirror images of one another, but that requires having one piece long enough to get two parts from, so obviously I could not do that here. (The following picture shows an example of this method, but the photo is not very clear because this was actually a tiny object in the background of another picture)



A (not very good) picture showing
two parts turned in mirror image



Once one end has been established, I then work out the other end, which also establishes the overall length of the object. The material which is left on the ends of the turned object will form a tenon with which to join it into the horizontal members...



setting out the top of the leg




As I said a minute ago, my basic method of turning wood is to remove everything that does not have the appearance of the shape I am looking for; part of this process is to establish the basic shape I want and then refine it as it gets closer to the final dimensions. In the preceding photograph, though the basic final shapes have been established, they all need more material removed to achieve the desired variance between thick and thin elements. Carefully compare the final results below with this picture above to understand the process. In the above photo, the base is essentially the same diameter as the central section, but by reducing it a bit, I was able to get a more pronounced effect to the vase shape of the main body.




final shape; ready for finishing



And here it is, a leg of classical baluster form, with a coat of finish on it to bring out the grain. I used some powdered minerals and charcoal with my oil when I sanded it the final time; this enriches the colour of the wood. Since there are still many other things to do on this table, I will leave this leg on the lathe and continue applying coats of oil until I obtain the desired finish before removing it to turn the other leg.



first coat









Videre Scire





Sunday, May 3, 2015

Table Progress - Part IV

This post is about the latest progress on the curved table which I have been working on. In this installment, we will be looking at the carving done for the apron, as well as the main point; steam bending some parts to form the curve of the top.



Channel carving





First of all, as I mentioned, I had to carve the channel moulding for the table apron. I wish there was a better term for this carving, but if there is, I cannot find it. "Channel moulding" sounds like some sort of moulding with deep grooves running down its length, and in fact this can actually be called channel moulding as well. What we are working on here, however, has deep grooves running at right angles the piece. If the shape were reversed, so the design stood proud the surface, then it would be called "nulling" and if the 'nulling' was curved, it would be known as "gadroons", but for some reason, there seems to be no other term for it when it is sunk. (If someone knows of one, please inform me, along with a reference source for the term.) All the books I have on English furniture, seem to call it "channel moulding", "channeling" or "carved channels".




setting out the distance from one channel to the next

In the old days, before folding rules, tape measures, and the widespread use of metal rulers for lay-out work, the compass was the tool of choice for doing this; in my opinion it still works the best in this case. Once you have established the number of repeats you will have in the pattern, and the width those repeats will be, it is a simple matter of setting the compass to that dimension, and starting at one end, walking it along, and making a mark with the point at each rotation of the compass. Once the end is reached, you will have the left side of each channel, (assuming you began from the left) marked off. Next, at the right end, you will make a mark with your gouge for the last channel;  this will establish its width. Now, using the compass, set at the right side of the channel, as marked by the gouge, walk the compass back the way you came; again, marking as you go. You will then have set all the channels, each exactly as the other, as you want to carve them. With the same setting on the compass, you can also set out the narrow groove between each channel; simply mark the point of the first one, and walk the compass along as before. (I just made one centre line for this.) No matter how many marks you want to make, using the compass in this manner, they will always be the same distance from one another.



Scribing the lines from the compass point marks



Once all the marks are set with the compass, use the square and a scribe (or a marking knife as you like) to mark the lines out; these will be your guiding edges for carving. It was actually more helpful to mark these lines with a knife, as that eliminated any potential for the grain to tear whilst carving across the grain; which is what is happening here.



Cutting sequence for the carving.



I showed 9 steps to cutting a channel in the photograph above. It is not hard work, but it gets a bit repetitive after making around 80 of them.  Once the channels were all cut, I went back with a smaller gouge and cut narrow grooves between each one, as can be seen in the first picture.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After the carving was finished, it was time to build the steam box. I mentioned in my last post on this table, that I can usually cross-cut timbers fairly close to square. Here is a three out of four go at it. These were the pieces which came off the ends of the cedar used to build the box. I did not want to make it any longer than I needed it to be, because the longer it is, the more time it will take to get the temperature up.



Number three is not quite square as it is leaning to
the left; it is square enough to stand, however.



On a more relevant note, I did not want to drill or screw anything together for this project, as steam bending is not something I normally do, and therefore do not want another contraption lying about. I will use the timber for something else once the project is finished. Therefore I came up with a (I think) clever method of fitting it all together, as you shall see.

The first step was to cut a bunch of small dowels to the same length and bore holes about 7mm deep on the inside of each side. I had to mark it out carefully so that when I drilled the holes and inserted the dowels, both sides would line up; they did.



the dowels will keep the parts separated as well as
establishing the width of the box 

Once the two halves were fit together (held with cramps) it was time to install the steam pipe. This was just some plastic water pipe from the local handyman shop. I just taped them together; as already stated, this is a temporary fixture.



end caps and a series of holes along the
top distribute the steam evenly



Once the box was sorted, it was time to make the forms to bend the parts to. This involved making a bunch of short blocks and attaching them to a piece of plywood. I used my original template for the top to establish the radius for each part. I then made a sheet aluminium template to shape the blocks to. It was a simple matter of marking the block, using a scrub plane to remove most of the material, and then smoothing it up nicely.



spring is a nice time to work out-of-doors

squaring the block

checking the curve



Once the blocks were all shaped and screwed down, and the whole thing screwed to the bench it was just about time to get some steam up.



forms for the inside apron, inside guide rails for the draw leaf,
and inside table top frame




For a water boiler, I used an empty tin for spirits. It was just about perfect, as it holds a lot of water, is made of metal, and has a hole in the top in which to fit a pipe. Once I had the tin filled with water and the pipe connected, it was time to have a go at it. Before I sealed the box up and put the parts inside I wanted to be sure the steam was working properly. It did not take me long to remember an important point of physics; steam will not go downhill!




water-boiler from a large tin

A few adjustments later, and things were working much better. I originally had the box on the ladder to the side of the fireplace, but I realised the hose pipe was too long, thus the steam was cooling off too much.



Insulation helps keep the heat inside.
wrapped around the boiler, it also helps the water to heat more quickly.


In this picture, you can see how the box is held together without screws. A roll of cello-wrap did a great job of holding everything together and keeping the steam inside. There is a wooden panel screwed to the other end, and it has two holes at the lower edge to let the condensed water flow out. I also made a small hole in the top edge at the join of the two pieces of timber, in which to insert a baking thermometer. 

The ideal temperature would have been 100 degrees Celsius, (The hottest you can get water without a pressure tank.)  but I was only able to get it to 97. Once it reached that point, I kept it there for about one and a half hours.

Steam bending is an amazing phenomenon which can be achieved with wood. A plank of elm 25 mm thick can be bent to a radius of about 50 mm without breaking when properly done. Part of that "properly" is using timber which is in the right condition to begin with. It should be air dried and have a much higher moisture content than kiln dried timber does. The reason is that once the wood is too dry, it has a fixed memory and it is difficult to change its mind. I have many times used very hot metal, stones, and bricks to "iron" bent timbers straight, even if they were kiln dried, so I know some degree of change can be achieved even with kiln dried material. Since my radii are not that severe, I was hoping for the best with this project. 

Normally I use air dried material for all my projects, as it has a much more 'alive' feel to it, but in the case of this table, I was not able to find suitable air-dried timber. I decided to bend the tighter radius parts to begin with, as I like to get the hardest part over with first. If I am successful with the hard parts, then I should be able to do the entire project.



success



The hardest part was the inside table apron because it is the shortest piece and is of almost the tightest radius; it is also wider, which creates more resistance. The channel carving is against the form, away from view in this picture.



Inside apron and inside table-top frame;
this will be split in half and serve for the top and the leaves



Steam makes the wood so it can bend without breaking, but it does not make it easy to bend. The state of the wood in the super-heated condition is termed "plastic", but it still needs a heck of a lot of force to pull it to the form. I had to use my biggest cramps to do the job. It may be 'plastic' but it definitely is not rubber.




parts 5 and 6 (guide rails for the draw leaves)

This is not the end, however, as I still have to do all the long parts. They should bend a bit easier though, as their radii are not nearly so tight at these parts. Once they are bent, I can begin assembling the top section of the table...




Videre Scire



Sunday, April 26, 2015

To Ornament or Not... Part 1; the scale of things

Visiting again the topic of medieval depictions of furniture in artwork, this post will begin to examine the question of what sort of ornamentation a piece of furniture might have had, based on the evidence, or lack thereof, in the various surviving representations of all mediums. We will be comparing similar objects depicted in various scales to see if the size of the artwork had any bearing on what ornament was used in the illustration, sculpture, metalwork, or glass painting.



BNF Lat 266 fol 2v um 850



To begin with, I present a work from my favourite time period in medieval history; the 9th century. In this illustration, which art historians have come to call a "Christ Tetramorph", (Christ with the Four Evangelists represented with their non-human [animals and an angel] forms) we have two scales of representation of the same type of object; a book. The books which the four evangelist's symbols hold are smaller than that which Christ holds, and thus they have less ornamentation. In neither case do they give us any information regarding the actual appearance of a 9th century book, beyond the fact that they were ornamented to some degree, and had clasps around the edges to keep them closed. Any other information we wish to gain about ornamentation of objects in this time period must come from other sources.

For me, it is nice when possible, to compare other ornamental representations from the same artist. Thus, though the books these figures hold are not very detail oriented, by examining other decorations from the same artist, in the same book, we can get a better idea of what ornamentation may have been possible in the realm of that artist.



BNF Lat 266 fol 106v um 850



I am not suggesting that this would be the decoration of a book cover, but it is an ornamental frame or border, and shows scrolling leaves and knot-work, both types of decoration which we find on all sorts of surviving artifacts from the 9th century. Notice also, the even more simplified rendering of four books on the four edges of this frame.

Of even larger, and therefore more detailed decoration, are these two bands of stylised, entwined leaf and bud motifs from another page of the same gospel. In addition to being rendered with silver leaf, these patterns were large enough to be further enhanced by highlights and shadow which gave them, when newly painted, a three dimensional form. Sadly, most of that highlight and shading has worn off over the past 1200 years. (Can you imagine that?)




BNF Lat 266 fol 74v um 850



From another 9th century manuscript comes another of those Cannon Tables which I have mentioned in the past. This one is nicely rendered with Corinthian capitals, marble columns, acanthus leaf carving to the architrave, and a very cute little bird perched atop the the crest. Above the columns sit two figures on plinth chairs; their posture very expressive of someone with a lot on their mind. Of the chairs we can discern nothing beyond the fact that they have a cushion on them and their basic form, though even that is not very precise.




Épernay  MS 1-220 fol 14v  9jh



From the same gospel comes this illustration of St John (identified by his symbol, the eagle). John sits on a chair very much of the same form as our last two contemplative figures', but this illustration is large enough for the artist to begin suggesting some ornamentation to the furniture. We see the implication of carved feet on the lectern, and scrolling leaves on its top edge, as well as on the foot bench and the chair. Notice, however, the level of rendering to the leaves comprising the border of this painting. This could quite easily be a carved design running around any one of these pieces of furniture. It is my belief that that is precisely what the artist had in mind; carved ornamentation, when he painted this border.




Épernay  MS 1-220 fol 134v  9jh



I am not saying that this border represents the ornament of that depicted on this furniture; the basic form is different, but it could be used as the ornament of some piece of furniture - or carved or painted moulding around a door, a cornice, or any number of other applications where moulding would be used. It is simply a depiction of one pattern of 9th century carved and/or painted moulding.




Biblioteca Naţională a României, Ms R II 1 Zt 136 um 800 BA




The ornament which the artist had in mind for the chair, foot bench, and lectern were of a more scrolling design, as I said, so we should look for examples of this form of ornament to get an idea of what might have been possible. Fortunately, there are many examples of this form of ornament, which, with slight variation, can be found from Roman times through the 15th century. For the sake of this conversation though, we are considering 9th century ornament, so we should look for sources from that era. In several of the more important gospel books of the 8th and 9th century can be found ornamental borders and page dividers on each folio. These borders are depicted as various forms of actual decorative mediums such as gold and precious stones, cloisonné and champlevé enameling, marble, wood, mosaic and other forms of decoration contemporary with the time of the production of these books. One of these borders is pictured above, representing gold and enamel decoration; it shows the degree to which this simple scrolling vine and leaf motif can be taken. (See also the upright stiles in the Maximian chair back.below for another variation on this theme.)




BNF Lat 11751 fol 59v um 1025-75



Another set of illustration portraying chairs, this time from the 11th century, again demonstrates this same basic concept that the larger the illustration, the more ornament the same artist will use in the objects he portrays.There are three scales /degrees of this illustration. The top tier with Christ is the largest and therefore has the most detail. The lower tier depicting the Virgin Mary as Queen of heaven, is on the same scale as the other figures within this register, but since she is more important than the other occupants, more care was taken in her portrayal.

Everything in this illustration is again representational, yet the depiction of Christ shows a highly decorated book, multiple forms of ornamentation to his clothing, and a jeweled throne and footrest. The throne of the Virgin in form is more elaborate than that of the Christ, but the degree of its ornamentation is lesser. Furthermore, Mary only has a few dots on her clothing to represent pattern to the cloth and none of the other figures, save the one to her left (right hand side) has any at all. All the other seated figures' chairs are also less ornamented than that of the Virgin or Christ.

In reality, it would be logical for a king's throne or chair to be more ornate than that of the queen's and hers more so than other members of court, so this diminishing of decoration is accurate from that point of view, but none of these chairs give us a model from which we can build a reliable example of an 11th century chair. Each of them, in their different forms only serve to illustrate that chairs of their type were ornamented to some degree. Because of the scale and importance of each sitter, the only thing we can accurately conclude from this illustration is that the larger the illustration, the more ornament the artist would have used in his depiction.

If we accept the premise that the circles and tear-drop shaped lozenges represent the gem encrusted ornamentation favoured as decorative elements in the 11th century, then, by the varying degrees of scale in this illustration, we can not actually even draw the conclusion that Christ's chair is more highly ornamented than some of the other's. The decorations on the two chairs immediately the right and left of Mary also have these same shapes. Given the scale of these chairs, there are less actual circles and lozenge patterns to them, but they clearly indicate the same idea of bejeweled ornamentation.





Duccio - Madonna of the Franciscans c1287
235x160mm
(wikipedia)




One might still wish to argue the point that the throne of Christ is more ornamental than those of the other sitters because he is a more important figure. So, what if an artist portrays the same person in two different images, surely, regardless of scale, the ornamentation should be the same, right?

Here are two late 13th century paintings of the Madonna by Duccio, one of "the fathers of renaissance art". They both portray the Virgin Mary seated in a turned and carved chair, and having a two tiered, arcaded  foot bench beneath her feet. One chair is actually of a 'stool' form, as it has no back, but in essence, they are similar turned post chairs, the principal difference comes in the scale. The first painting, above, is tiny, at 160 milimetres wide; it is on the scale of illuminated manuscript paintings. The second Madonna, below, is four and one half metres tall, rendering the smaller figures near life size! Duccio had so much area to work with, he hardly knew what to do with it all. He spent a lot of energy ornamenting the panels to the point of impracticability, and added a lot of highlighting, to suggest a highly polished surface to the wooden parts. (Thomas Chippendale's drawings are often too delicate to be practical as well, but no one says his designs did not represent possibilities for actual furniture.)

The real distinction achieved by the vastly different scale of these two works, however, comes in comparing the fabric depicted in them. In the Madonna of the Franciscans panel, the 'Cloth of Honour' behind the Virgin is draped over a supporting frame, like the back of a chair, but separate from it. We can see this from the way the cloth is formed into a series of peaks and valleys and by the undulating fringe a third of the way down from the top edge. (it looks like a brown water stain) The artist made no attempt at depicting folds or overlaps in the pattern, or shading to the cloth which makes its form a bit difficult to discern. The ornamentation of the fabric is a simple white St Julian's cross form on a blue ground. It is highly probable that such a pattern could be found on cloth woven in the 13th century, but compare it to the brocade depicted in the painting which is larger than life. In this Rucellai Madonna, there is also a cross pattern, but also vine and tendrils, quatrefoils and other ornamental banding along with multiple colours, In short, because of the scale the artist had to work with, the fabric in this painting is truly spectacular. (Incidentally, the blue gown of the Virgin, at the time of this painting, would have, merely by its colour, spoken of immense wealth; indigo blue dye was one of the most costly colours in the medieval world.)




Duccio - Rucellai Madonna 1285 Bildausschnitt
Detail of the lower left corner



Lewis Chessman, Bishop - Rear View
1st half (>) of the 12th century
(Flickr)



Many people, on seeing the Lewis Chessmen, feel that they are quite representational of furniture ornamentation. Perhaps they are, but it would be a very heavy and clumsy chair if one were to scale this design up to the size of a proper chair. It does, however, have the elements of decoration from the 10th through 12th centuries, so in concept, it is a good source of information on possible ornamentation of an actual object.




Schloß Quedlinburg, back panel of the  Kaiserstuhl
c 1045-50
(apologies for the sideways picture, Google refuses to stop flipping it when I
 load it for some reason) picture found on Flickr 



I wanted to avoid the temptation of comparing actual examples with artistic representations of similar objects in this post, but at the same time, an ivory sculpture of 90 milimetres and a bronze chair back (which is actually a sculpture in its most fundamental concept) of around 900 milimetres cannot be passed by, in this context. This design is too similar to that of the chess piece to not recognise it as of the same type of ornamentation. This type of ornament could also have been carved into a wooden panel, and/or could also have been painted on a chair back, giving us numerous possibilities of possible ornamentation of a chair back in this time period.




Maximian's Chair, Ravenna mid 6th cent.
(from Wikipedia)
Maximian's Chair, Ravenna , Detail of  back panel



Whilst on the subject of comparing actual objects to that in the artwork, what better way of illustrating this than showing an historical furniture object which, itself, has depictions of chairs in its very ornamentation. Such is the case with this Chair of Maximian (which I have featured before). This is a fascinating piece of surviving furniture from the beginning of the Middle Ages; it shows the degree of ornamentation used in an important person's (a bishop, in this case) chair.

By comparing this real life chair to an illustration of a chair within its decoration, we can see the degree of simplification which goes into illustrating actual objects This left panel on the back of the chair has a Mother and Child, an image that would persist for more than a thousand years, virtually unchanged. The Mother Mary sits in a chair not unlike the one which this representation is ornamenting, though the actual chair has a partial wrap-around back and this depicted one does not. The only ornamentation to the depicted chair is a set of double lines on each of the straight members, and ball finials like those on the real chair.

I do not mean to keep wearing out the subject of chairs, but they seem to be the most common form of furniture in medieval artwork. Here is another example of one installation with numerous chairs with varying degrees of ornamentation, according to their scale and level of importance within the overall composition.




St Luke, Burgos Cathedral tympanum c 1235



This is part of a tympanum on the west (if memory serves correctly) facade of the cathedral of Burgos, in Spain. St Luke, seated in the largest chair, has a much more ornamented one than the saints which are in the volutes of the arch. In the centre of this sculpture, but not shown in this picture, is a Christ seated on an even larger,and therefore more elaborately ornamented chair. In addition, in a higher tier, there are two more smaller figures, (Mathew and Mark) at similar desks but their chairs are also less ornamented, and the desks do not have the carved floral pattern to the moulded edge. (there is a figure of St John, similar to this one, on the right side as well)

One of the reasons I wanted to use this illustration, however, is that immediately below the seated figure is a very similarly treated arcade to that of the chair, but because it is larger, the artist included more detail. Instead of the curls on the ends of the arch ending in scroll terminals, they end in human head form. (It is also worth noting that the finials to the posts on the chair have been broken off, as has the arm of St Luke.)




The Birth of St Edmund
BL Harley MS 2278, fol. 13v zw 1434-9
this miniature is approximately 120mm square



I began this post with a couple of items from my favourite time period, but am well aware that most people with an interest in the "Middle Ages" tend to prefer things from the 14th and 15th century; the same concepts still hold true for this part of the millennium as well, as can be observed by comparing the following two illuminations.

Here we have a lovely bedroom scene from the first half of the 15th century. It is not painted with as much detail as one sees in a Rober Campin, or Rogier van der Weyden painting, but the scale is much smaller and thus it would be very difficult to achieve that level of realism. Nonetheless, there is ample information for the seeker of medieval interior details to feast the eyes upon in this painting.

There are plenty of actual objects in museums for us to observe their physical appearance, but here we have a reference to types of objects found in a wealthy person's chamber. These include a fireplace with niches for the display of ornamental objects, of metal, ceramic, and glass. We find ornamental andirons in the fire, and a patterned carpet on a tile floor. The mother of St Edmund, who is the focus of all the attention in this painting, lies in a canopied bed. This illustration shows us, unlike so many other paintings, the fact that a rich person's draperies, covers, and bed hangings would have been made of ornamented (brocade) fabric. It also, with an economy of effort, shows us that the walls would have also been decorated, though most medieval illustrations leave them blank.

There are a few pieces of furniture in this painting, but the scale of them is too small to add detail. We see a backless bench of plinth chair form, a barrel backed armchair, and a buffet. The physical ornamentation of these objects were unimportant to the artist, he merely put them here to fill in the scene with as much detail as the space warranted, based on his scale of rendering, in order to give the feel of a habited living environment. The other objects in the painting are also there to add to the sense of wealth in a busy life filled room of a nobleman's household. These items, however, were not essential to the picture, as the next illustration shows. 





Birth and Christening of St Fremund
BL Harley MS 2278, fol. 72r 



This miniature is the same size as the preceding one, but the interest in comparing the two comes from the fact that this second illustration has two scenes in it, requiring the artist to simplify the pictures in order to make them smaller. On the left side we see another bedroom scene, but this time, most of the household objects are left out. There is one ewer beside the fireplace and a cushion on the floor; the only other object, aside from the bed, is a brazier used to put coals in. This object allows heat to be placed at the opposite side of the room from the fireplace. (From personal experience, I can tell you that it does a great deal to help keep a room warm on a cold winter day.) With only half the space to work with, and needing to retain the figures, which are the important part of the picture from the point of view of the original readers, (They did not need to see what a 15th century room looked like, they were already in one!) the artist had to economise somehow. He did so by omitting most of the objects. The overall level of detail is the same as the preceding illustration, but because less space was available, fewer objects and furnishings were depicted. This in no way tells us anything about the actual quantity of objects in a room, and should give us a cautionary lesson about judging the furnishings and decor of any actual room based on what we see in most medieval artworks.

I have given many illustrations here of degrees of ornamentation, in most cases by the same artist, to like or similar objects. In no way am I suggesting that every object was highly ornamented, but at the same time, I wish to make the reader aware that medieval furniture was usually much more ornamented than most depictions which we find in the artwork of the Middle Ages. People of that time loved ornamentation, and whether they were poor or rich, they decorated their objects to the best of their means. A king and a yeoman could both have a chair of similar form, the key difference in the two would have been the materials used in their construction and decoration. If one could not afford, or did not wish to have gold and gems, enamels, or ivory, he could still have something carved, or painted, but his possessions would have been decorated in some manner. Nearly every object which we find from the medieval period bears this out; those that do not, are not in a good state of preservation and thus cannot tell us how they appeared when new. Gold and gems are stolen or re-used for other purposes, paint peels and fades, dyes fade and lose their colours, cloth rots, wood is consumed by moisture, worms and fire, and gilding and moulded gesso flake off, leaving us with a sad shadow of the beauty that was originally found on these objects. Happily, not all objects are thus destroyed, and we can see from many of them them the true spirit of ornamentation in the Middle Ages.





Videre Scire











Sunday, April 19, 2015

Table Progress - part III

This week has been a busy one; back to work on the table. As mentioned in the last posting on this project, a few weeks ago I got the needed timber, but wanted it to acclimatise to my workshop before proceeding further. That process has been accomplished, and this week I was hard at work cutting, planing, and joining parts to begin the top. This week's posting will be a "slide show" type of story showing (most of) the steps in that process.


The planks which will become the top
I forgot to add the two needed for the leaves though


The first step was to choose the best pieces for grain and straightness. Some were straighter than others, however.


Let the sawing begin.

After the pieces were chosen, the lengths were marked out and cut off. Some smart guys often try to tell me that God invented an electric saw some hundred years ago, and it goes much faster using one. I agree, but it is not about how fast I get it done; for me, the joy is in doing it. Using a hand saw takes skill, and I enjoy the challenge of mastering that skill. It also means that I do not need a gym membership.


All the pieces laid out on the template


Once the cutting was finished, it was time to start planing. Most of the timber was fairly flat, but a couple of them had a nasty bow; time for the scrub plane.



The line shows the amount of bow in this piece of timber


I have several scrub planes, but my favourite is this German one from the middle of the 19th century. (no chip breaker, just a solid iron) The small size, deep curve, and the horn on the front make it a very aggressive plane. It made quick work out of the curve.



Checking for straightness 


One down, 17 more to go. Fortunately most of them were much flatter. The whole process took most of a day however. Planing elm is a bit tricky, because it tends to tear in long ropey strands if you go counter to the grain. Therefore, many of the pieces had to be worked from multiple angles. One thing I do to help minimise the tear-out is to go diagonally across the grain with the courser planes, then do the final smoothing with the grain.




Nearly finished



 Once all the pieces were planed, they had to have the taper marked and cut. Each narrow end is approximately 0.4666% of its wider end. The pieces must be cut on both sides, however, to keep the grain running straight and to keep the ends oriented squarely to the radius.



Some of the parts with one side cut.
the off-cuts are in the box


I hate dust and messes, so I try to collect the sawdust in a box instead of letting it fall on the floor, but that does not work for ripping, so I just have to sweep it all up afterwards.


Checking the sawing for squareness


I cannot rip a perfectly square edge very often, but I usually get pretty close. I have a much better success rate on cross-cuts. A long time ago, (cannot remember when) I discovered that adding wax to the blade from time to time, greatly eases the effort of sawing. Some time after making that discovery, I read in the Dictionary of Woodworking Tools, by R. A. Salaman, that cabinet makers used to have a box filled with oil soaked rags which they used to draw their saw through as a way of lubricating it. I keep intending to make some such box, but have yet to do it so I just wipe it on with a cloth.

Once all the tapers were cut on one side, and the first cut on the second side of the first piece, it was time to start joining them. The nice thing about joining by hand, is that it does not matter if you keep the edge perfectly square to the sides, so long as you match them face to face before you begin. As a way of demonstrating this, I made an exaggerated diagonal line across both pieces. When they are fit together, these two lines will be parallel each other. Of course, the down side of doing this is, that any curve you get in the length will be doubled once you fit them together, so one still has to be very careful when joining by hand.




these lines are at the same angle




Nice and smooth, and hopefully straight...




It looks like it worked. Here are those two lines, parallel as
I said they would be.





Out of sequence picture, cutting the second tapered edge


Each piece must be marked and joined to its neighbour in a custom fit sort of way. Though in theory, one should be able to cut all the parts with the same percentage of width to the wide end, in reality, even one degree of variance would put the whole thing out of round very quickly. The solution is to join two pieces together, mark where they fall on the template, put down the next piece and mark it to fit the preceding one. I used a giant compass to draw the template in the first place, so using that template in its original position, and a long straight edge, I am able to keep the angles accurately.




Straight edge and center point


Each new piece is laid over the line of the preceding piece and marked for cutting. Once the joining has been done, however, it will no longer be exactly in the correct place, and each subsequent part gets 'corrected for'.

The arrow points to the leading edge of the
preceding piece.




Showing the correction which must be made in the next
segment after joining the two pieces. (actually the
two arrows are backwards, but you can get the idea.)




FINALLY - SPRING!!!!


Here all the pieces have been joined and laid out, including the four pieces which will make up the two leaves.




The next step involves making all those part into one whole table top. I could just glue them all up, but I do not like relying on glue alone; I much prefer a mechanical means of attaching parts to one another. I first encountered the method used here whilst studying 13th century altar panels, but have subsequently learned that this method was still in use into the 17th century. It involves inserting a loose tenon into both pieces and then inserting dowels through the timber and the tenon.



Drill and then chisel. The drill is a brace from the early
part of the 20th century. One of these days I will
find an antique one.





The floating tenon; the off-set boring is clearly visible.
The tenons are oak.



In order for the tenon to do its work properly, the holes must be drilled in the table top first, then the tenon is inserted, marked, removed and bored separately; slightly offset to the holes in the table top. Once the pin is driven through the holes, it will, on account of the offset, pull the parts more tightly to one another. This method is called "draw boring" and is an ancient method of keeping mortise and tenon joinery tight. When you drive the pins in, you will be able to feel them following the hole, as they tend to lean one way, then back the other slightly, on passing through. I have restored dozens of pieces of 17th and 18th century Continental furniture which are joined in this way and the joints are usually still tight.



Cutting a tenon on the end


One more thing that needs to happen before the pieces are permanently affixed is that they need to have a tenon on their ends which will fit into the edge rail. The end of each segment of the top needs to have a slight arc to it, in accordance with its portion of the circle, but that will not be done until the whole unit is joined up. It would be much more difficult to cut the tenons after the whole thing has been fit together, so I initially cut them a bit short. Once the centre section of the top is all complete I will then mark out the radius and trim the tenons back to the final shape. 

Speaking of the pins; they are made from some of the scraps which came off the edges. I cut them long enough to get four pins from each piece. I pound one into the hole, cut it off, point the end, then drive it into the next and so on.


cutting dowel pins


Finally, the pieces are glued together and the dowels driven home, then cut and trimmed flush. The final stage in this part of the process is to use a cabinet scraper and level out any slight variance where each segment meets in order to have a smooth surface. In addition to being functional, the pins will add a bit of a decorative element to the top.



Four pins which secure one of the
floating tenons; several more pins
await the saw.


I will join small sections of the top together in this way, then plane the backs of them even with the scrub plane before joining them all together. At this point, all the timbers are still rough on the back and of varying thicknesses. I will not worry about making them smooth, they just need to have more or less, the same thickness. The critical part will be the edge which is yet to be made, this will be slightly thicker than the centre panel. It is this edge which will have a uniform thickness throughout, establishing the visual dimension of the top.

That border and the parts which will make the skirt will be the topic of the next posting on this table; they have to be steam bent. This week I will be making my steam box for that purpose.  Before I bend the parts though, I have to do the carving to the skirt pieces; it will be easier to carve them whilst they are still straight than after they have been curved.

This blog is about, and for, many things, but one of the goals which I hope to accomplish is showing those who do not know, the time and effort making something actually entails. We live in a world where everyone wants everything instantly, and most things are made in a matter of seconds on machines or by robots, I feel it is important to share with people the process that goes into actually making something. I hope, by doing this, that at least some people will gain a greater appreciation for non disposable craftsmanship.





Videre Scire



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