The (long and complex) History of Medieval Chairs - Part II; Plinth Chairs

It is nearly impossible to give adequate coverage to almost any topic which covers 1000 years and an entire continent. It will be my attempt in this blog posting, to give more coverage to the topic noted in the title, than that of any book on furniture history that I have ever seen; especially since I have never come across any discussion of these plinth chairs. Although they are the most common single form of seating apparatus depicted in medieval artworks, up to the beginning of the 15th century, as far as I know, the history books are entirely silent on the topic. I have a few books in which illuminations from manuscripts have been reproduced, depicting this seating form, but the authors very casually mentions them as "chairs" and give no acknowledgment to the fact that they are very different in form to what we think of today as a 'chair'. In this blog posting, I will begin to shine a bit of light on the long and varied history of this type of seat-form.

St Luke, from a Gospel Book, 3rd quarter 9th century
A very classic example of the plinth chair

In the first part of this article, I mentioned the pre-medieval origins of chairs in general. There is also evidence of the plinth chair from the classical world, but we find an interesting twist to the subject; there are very few portrayed in the Roman period. I have seen Greek and Egyptian examples in their respective artworks, and, when searching for Roman examples today, I came across several from the artworks of early Mesopotamian cultures, including this one below, from the Louvre.

One of the many illustrations of a plinth type chair from
the middle eastern cultures of the 2nd millennium BC 

After seeing a couple pictures like this on the internet I got out some of my books, and discovered that I had forgotten a lot about what I had previously studied. Back when I was in high school, I wondered what came before the classical art of the Greeks, and began studying Mycenaean, Minoan, and Sumerian cultures. Hmm, sounds a bit like my more recent approach to the early Middle ages...


As I was looking for Roman examples of this type of chair, and not finding many, I remembered having gone through this exercise a few years ago. What I find is that there are very few illustrations that clearly show this form of seat. There are several examples that could be, but nothing clear and definite. There are also lots of similar objects which have short legs or feet, so are not actually 'plinths' as technically defined (having a moulding 'round the base). At the same time, one does see many objects of this form, but they are altars, not chairs. I think, the last time I was doing this research, I came to the conclusion that, because a plinth chair and an altar had the same basic form, the artworks did not often depict people sitting on such objects. This is a highly conjectural conclusion, however, and would need a lot more research than I have given it, to draw any firm conclusion on the matter. Furthermore, in the Early Medieval period, many altars still retain this plinth form, yet the manuscripts also show seated figures on such objects.

A plinth chair form, but this is an altar, not a chair.
Roman, 3rd century
from Wikipedia

In the past three weeks, in preparation for this posting, I have gone through 7909 illustrations from medieval manuscripts, and separated out 723 illuminations which depict one or more of these plinth chairs. As I said, they are the single most common type of seating form, up until the beginning of the last century of the Middle Ages. These chairs are sometimes depicted in a detailed and realistic manner; at other times, they are quite abstract and it is even difficult to decipher exactly what the artist had in mind when he produced the illustration. In addition to the manuscripts, there are scores of relief sculptures, full figure ("in the round") sculpture, metalwork, ivory, and frescoes (as well as paintings after the 13th century) which depict this form of seat.

Christ Enthroned on a plinth chair.
note again the more simplified ornamentation of the chairs depicted
in a smaller scale.

One of the most elaborate depictions of this type of chair is pictured above; it comes from the west portal tympanum of the Collegiate Church of St Benoit Sur Loire, in France. The edge of the seat and the cove mouldings are completely covered in carved vegetal ornament; the side panels and base molding are further ornamented with pierced arcading. By contrast, one of the simplest depictions is pictured below. There are even more simplified drawings; simply a cube form, but this one retains the notion of a plinth, whereas a cube could represent anything, even simply a block of stone.

Bern Burgbibliothek, Cod 264 zt. 120 ca 900
several different forms of seating, all very abstractly drawn
Note another variation, with the integrally constructed footrest.
(click image to view larger and read notations)

I have already mentioned a near complete lack of depictions of this chair form from the classical Roman Period, but by the onset of the Medieval Period, they have become quite common. I mentioned, in Part One of this article, that the Ashburnham Pentateuch has this form of chair, but, on studying it again, more carefully, it does not; the closest things to plinth chairs are objects like the one occupied by a king in the above illustration, or are of plinth form, but have a back crest with a drapery,(contrary to what I mistakenly said in the previous article). However, in the Louvre, and coming from roughly the same time period, (6th century) is a pair of ivory panels, which is known as the Nine Muses Diptych. (One panel of which is missing; there are only 6 muses pictured, the third panel, originally making it a triptych, has been lost.) In this ivory, there is a seated figure representing a poet. Interestingly, he looks very much like the figures in the evangelist portraits of many of the 8th and 9th century Gospel Books.

A poet, attended by his muse, sits on a plinth chair from a
6th century Italian ivory panel, now in the Louvre.

In the earliest part of the Middle Ages, this plinth chair had a very distinctive, 'plinth' form, but as the centuries wore on, and tastes changed, the chair took on other slightly altered forms as well; all in keeping with contemporary trends in design and taste. Discernable by the middle of the 10th century, a trend emerged, in which the chair had a layered or stacked appearance to it. This form seems to have reached its zenith by the middle of the 13th century, but by that time, another, almost chest-like form had come to supplant it. (As with most trends in furniture styles of the Middle Ages, one can find two centuries, or more, worth of overlap between these two ideas.)

St John (recognised by his attribute, the eagle) 10th century
Hessisches Landesmuseum Darmstadt
Early depiction of the layered effect

Here is another example, from about 300 years later.

BL Burney MS 3 fol 5v ca 1240-50
Technically a bench,not a chair, so this should be in a future post on
benches, but this shows the extremes of the layered and cantilevered
designs that fashion thought up.

By contrast, this miniature, also from the same period as the last, shows a very simple straight-sided example with almost no overhang at all.

Bibliothèque de l'Arsenal, 5211 fol 3v 1250-4
Christ is seated on a plinth chair, ornamented in three rows of panels with
white dots, most likely representing carving.
At this time the plinth chair has begun to take on more of a 'chest' form.

Of course this is somewhat of an over simplification of the topic, and only represents one variation which is a bit more pronounced than some others. In reality, there are scores of types, regional variations, and stylistic nuances unique to each artist. One could write an entire book for each century on the topic, but most people would, doubtless, find that extremely boring reading.

In short, however, these chairs could be rectangular, square, or even round; they were carved, painted, covered in gems, and imitation gems, metal foil, and moulded gesso. They could be of an enclosed box form, or be constructed of open arcading and tracery. They sometimes had short lips to retain their cushions, and often had very pronounced overhangs to the seat. Sometimes they took on purely sculpted forms, and in the 13th and 14th century, at least, could even have 'ears' or tree branch looking extensions coming from the rear corners. I have observed this in enough different artwork of two centuries, to realise this must have been a real fad, not just one artists whimsical notion.

Madonna and Child, from the Met. I4th century
Usually these sculptures are depicted in a frontal
view so one never sees the chairs they sit on.
5 sides of an octagon with Gothic tracery

Though I have just mentioned some less 'plinth-like' varieties that these chairs often took on, over and over through the centuries, we see other examples proving that the basic plinth form was extremely long lived, and never seems to have gone out of fashion, Although, based on a less frequent occurrence in the 15th century art, these chairs became less popular, they still seem to have sailed right on out the near end end of the Middle Ages. I have not spent a lot of time sifting through 15th century manuscripts, my searches usually stop with the 13th, nonetheless, I still have quite a few examples of this type of chair from as late as the later half of the 1400's.

BL Harley MS 1340 fol 15r mid 15th century
since this one is depicted as being made of stone, certainly no one can
mistake it for a chest.

Once one has grasped the notion that these types of chairs were quite prominent throughout the medieval world, the logical question to ask, is, "Why do none of them seem to have survived?" This is a valid question, and I ask the same. There is no simple answer, but there are several possibilities.

One must first realise that, compared to the amount of all types of furniture, there are very few examples of any of it still extant. The items which did survive were, for the most part, things which found further use, down the economic chain of society or were stashed away in an attic, or were of some value due to association with (or later attribution to) a famous person. Chests were useful as storage devices, but if these objects were not primarily storage intended, they may have been less useful to succeeding generations. Another factor to consider is that, many of these items, if built like the choir stalls which have survived, would have been made out of extremely thick material, rendering them much heavier than their size warranted. 

Plinth chairs seem to have almost always been accompanied by a foot-rest and therefore the seat would have been higher than a modern chair. At some point, gradually, as with anything else, the fashion for sitting in an elevated chair with a foot-rest gave way, and most of the chairs that remained had their legs cut shorter to accommodate the changes in taste. It is not likely that this cutting down would have been very successful on a plinth chair, as its structure is entirely different to that of a chair with legs.

Cassone associated with Guliano da Maiano late 15th century
Is this a chest? I would have thought so, but perhaps it was originally a seat?

Lastly, though we tend to call anything that is oblong, of roughly box shape, and made of wood, a 'chest', in fact, in the medieval mind, there were many varieties of furniture type; all having a roughly 'box-like' form. Though as a valuables safe, a refrigerator, a gun safe, and a set of file drawers are all more or less 'cabinet-shaped', most of us would not consider any of them to be furniture. In the same way, a chest for money, one for swords and armour, and one for traveling, were usually not 'furniture' in the Middle Ages, (though modern museum setting often display them in such a way as to give that impression). In the same way, something that might appear to us as a chest, might actually have originally been intended as a chair. Most medieval depictions of chests show them as either being smaller than chairs, or at the height as a table or buffet. Things that are more or less chair height, probably were originally for that purpose. (except for the numerous examples which have had their legs shortened due to taste and or rot, in succeeding centuries.)

BNF Fr 2608 fol 449v
This looks to me a lot like the "chest" in the previous illustration.

Next time you are in a museum and see a "chest" which is missing its lower base moulding, and may or may not have a replaced top, but seems to be of seating height; consider weather or not you may in fact be looking at a plinth chair which, like its cousin the box chair, happens to have a convenient storage space in it as well.

French Gothic chest 15th century
Because the lock seems to have been designed into the overall scheme, this
is more likely to have been intended primarily as a storage item, but compare
it to the Seated Madonna above, and one sees the implications of what such an
actual chair might have looked like.

It is a shame that some magnificent plinth chair from the 9th or 10th century (or any other) has not been handed down to us, and the best we can do is speculate and guess as to their actual appearance. Nonetheless, the artwork speaks clearly enough, to inform us that not all furniture of box form had a primary purpose as storage compartments. The items we lump together and loosely term 'chests' had many varieties of form and function. One of those forms was a plinth chair.

Videre Scire

Ivory Substitute?

In this post I had hoped to present part II of the History of Chairs, but the weekend schedule is too full to allow time to do that. On Sunday I will be attending an all day seminar presented by Kaare Loftheim, a traditional cabinetmaker whose work I greatly admire. There simply will not be enough time to get everything together for the chair topic. Instead, I will introduce another little project which is now in its embryonic stage.

This project first suggested itself to me in an unusual way, the idea came to me during the process of making some rolling pins from the wood of the holly tree. Holly is a very white wood, and has been used for centuries as inlay, exploiting that characteristic. After I had finished turning, carving, and polishing the rolling pin, it occurred to me that it looked a bit like ivory. I then began thinking that, perhaps, it could be used to create a small box in imitation of the medieval ivory objects one sees in museums.

carved and turned from holly

As anyone who has been following my blog is aware, my favourite period of the Middle Ages, is the 8th and 9th centuries, so it is from that period that I will look for inspiration for my box. Most surviving box type structures, from that period, have a gable roof shaped lid. Though this type is the most common, there are several flat topped examples as well; this is type I intend to make.

Brecia Casket 4th century
(found on the web)

The box pictured above comes from a time a bit before the medieval period began, but the same form still existed in the 9th century, as is evidenced from illustrations in several manuscripts of that era. Another form which seems to have come about, has the corner posts turned round, thus projecting beyond the main body of the box. A 12th century reliquary casket of St Catherine in the St Servatius Church in Quedlinburg Germany has this form, and will be the type model for my box. I have no idea when that form first appeared, but there are a couple other 12th century examples that I know of, so therefore it must have originated earlier than that.

top view, showing the form of the corner posts

These boxes, when carved in ivory, are extremely beautiful; sadly, due to the long-running ban on ivory trade, one cannot use it to make anything. Therefore, if one wishes to make something that looks like ivory, he must find a substitute. Though it is not perfect, I think holly will serve the purpose of providing that substitute. I did a test sample on a scrap that was cut off of the blank used to make one of the rolling pins.

a bit like ivory?

I have subsequently changed my mind about how I intend to ornament the box, so this piece will no longer match the design I have for it, nonetheless it did give me an idea about the challenges of carving this material in a miniature scale. I will probably wind up using it in another box, inset into the surface like the one below.

When one sees these boxes in pictures, they usually fail to comprehend the small size of the objects Ivory is not timber, and one rarely sees ivory panels beyond 140mm wide. Most ivory pieces one sees are between 70 and 100mm, in other words, not much more than the width of three or four fingers. Ivory is a hard material, nearly as much so as bone, therefore, though one cannot cut it with a carving gouge for wood, it can be scraped, which leads to the possibility, in the hands of a skilled artist, to achieve impeccable detail and accuracy. On the other hand, wood is less dense, and and therefore must be cut away in little slivers; it can also be scraped, but must be done so always keeping the direction of the grain in mind. If one goes against the grain, and, or, if the tool is not sharp enough, then the resulting scraping will only produce fuzz and muddle the work. This is why one rarely sees tiny objects carved from wood, and when they are, they are usually done in a very hard wood, such as boxwood, which is crisper, and more easily captures the finer details.

6th century wood and ivory box. I took this picture in the museum.
This end is about 300mm wide, so each ivory panel is only about
60-65 mm in width.
Notice that this box is dovetailed together!

As a substitute for ivory, holly offers a few positive, and a few negative advantages. The fact that it is white, being its chief drawing point. It is not particularly hard, however, so, though it may be easier to cut, it tend to be more difficult to achieve clean and crisp details. Another drawback, is that it has small medullary rays, which are very un-ivory looking, so one must be careful to avoid them. Also, since it is not very hard, it will not take a polish the way ivory will. I am still working on a way to finish it without making a thick layer of varnish and at the same time keeping it as white as possible.

Original inspiration 

My original idea was to make a box ornamented in a 6th century manner, with simple animal and geometric designs. I started with this drawing from one of my books, Early Medieval Designs from Britain. Half way through the test carving, I found a photograph of the actual metal object this drawing depicts. Initially, I had thought to make some sort of motif with these animals along the edge of the lid, but have not found enough variety of figures from the same period and geographic location to make a believable amalgamation of decoration. I do not fancy carving the same design 50 times over. (I tend to get bored carving the same design over and over, even if the end result looks pleasing.)

Sarre Brooch, in the British Musem
the original from which the above drawing was made

I carved the first animal in its entirety, once it was finished I was afraid to start the next one, so left it standing around for a few months. It would have been better to have carved them both at the same time, as this would have produced a more unified look. When I got around to working on it again, it seems my frame of mind was different, as can be seen from the variations in the details, Overall, I guess they look fairly similar anyway.

The first carving, done back in December (I think)

The second animal, carved this week. (I know)
notice the scale for size, these guys are each
less than 40 mm long.

On the first guy, I made a ham-fisted mess of his foot. On the second, the outline shape is too narrow, and cut too deep. (it actually looks worse in this photo!) Somehow, overall, I am still pleased with my first attempts at carving on such a small scale. What it has given me, is a sense of what is needed to create an imitation ivory box. A drawing of it, which I made this morning, is below.

Conceptual rendering of the 9th century style box
it will measure approx. 230x360x250mm

In the latest conception of this box, I intend to use the the First Bible of Charles the Bald, (produced in 845; [BNF Lat 1]) for all the decorative elements. There is enough variety of design to have plenty to chose from, and having all design elements originating from the same source, should give the box a genuine feel. One of the big problems with reproductions made in the Victorian period was that the craftsmen who created them took this element from here, and another part from there, and wound up with a hodge-podge which usually had a distinctly 19th century look to it. My goal is to try to produce something that looks believably 9th century.

Videre Scire

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

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...

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