Carpenters, Electricians or Plumbers?

I have quite a few clients who are doctors.  Now that I think of it I also have had quite a few doctors as students.  Years ago (many years ago) I taught a series of classes on Decorative Arts at my alma mater, U.C.S.D.  In one of these classes I had a distinguished looking gentleman who always sat in the front row, directly in front of me, and asked very intelligent questions.  After several lectures, I asked him who he was and he responded, "I'm Dr. U".  It impressed me, since he confirmed that his last name was the singular letter "U".  I asked him what kind of doctor he was and he replied "brain surgeon."

As my degree was in High Energy Particle Physics, I thought this was interesting.  I can see the headlines now: "Rocket Scientist teaches Brain Surgeon."

In conversation after class, I asked him why he would take the time to sit through my lectures, as he must be rather busy with his profession.  He complimented me very much when he simply replied, "You are a good teacher."

Some years later I noted in the news that a difficult medical case had been treated at UCSD Medical Center, where a tumor was removed from a patient's brain in a 23 hour procedure.  The doctor who stood in one position for 23 hours and patiently cut away the tumor, stitching each vessel with 10 microscopic stitches was Dr. U.

When I taught my first class at Marc Adams School of Woodworking I had the school make 8 chevalets, and I thought they would be in different sizes.  However, they made them all the same size, 61cm tall, which would be perfect if the student was 6'2".    Naturally all the students were different heights, so I had to make risers for the seats.  In that first class I had a very enthusiastic woman who was 4' 11" tall.  Her name was Pepper and she was a medical doctor.  Doctor Pepper.  She was an exceptional worker and impressed me with her attitude.  Out of the 8 students 3 were medical doctors and one was a medical nurse.

At some point (I can't remember who or where) I had a client who was a doctor tell me that "We're all either carpenters, electricians or plumbers."  I thought that was a rather humble description of one of the most important professions on earth.  "Carpenters" fix broken bones, "Electricians" repair damaged nerves and "plumbers" solve leaky pipes.  (I don't want to be more specific...)

If I had entered the medical profession I would be a good doctor.  I would be a "Carpenter" since I understand how to repair structural damage, with the least invasive methods.  When I fix something it is fixed.  I spend a lot of my work repairing the damage caused not only by the accident but also (and much worse) the damage caused by amateur attempts to repair it, before it was brought to me.

I have posted before about Vector Clamping.  It is my way of teaching about proper methods of applying pressure on a glue joint.  When the joint is straight and even and the clamping surface is parallel to the joint, it is obvious where to clamp.  However, when the repair involves complicated curves and many different breaks it becomes more difficult to visualize where to apply the clamps.

This is where amateur woodworkers get in trouble.  Either they don't have enough clamps or the proper clamps, or the proper glue, or they try to just flood the break with glue, thinking it will fill all the gaps.  In any case, the repair is usually horrible.  By understanding Vector Clamping theory the repair will be easy, and the minimum number of clamps will be needed.

Vector Clamping means that a single clamp must be applied in the center of the joint and perpendicular to its surface.  On curves this means an additional scrap piece of material must be attached temporarily to properly provide a place for the main clamp to do its work.

Repairing a curved leg on a tripod table is a good example.  This nice early table came in last week with a broken leg.  An effort to repair it involved a large dowel going sideways, lots of yellow glue and a lot of missing wood.  The person who had attempted to repair it had damaged much of the surface of the joint so that it was no longer useable.

I used a toothing plane to clean up the glue residue.  You must glue to clean wood.  You cannot glue to dirt, old glue (unless it is a protein glue), or any other contaminant.  The success of the repair depends on the wood to wood surface contact.  This is why dowels are not as good as tenons.  Dowels present a circular surface which contacts as much end grain as side grain.  Tenons contact a larger area of side grain than end grain, so are stronger.

To begin the repair I fashioned pine clamping jigs, which are attached to the leg and foot.  If you study the photo you will see only two of the clamps do the actual work on the repair.  The vertical center clamp holds the piece in position while the diagonal clamp (on the back of the leg, difficult to see) is pulling the foot towards the leg. The rest of the clamps are used to hold the jigs.

Wood Elements Added for Vector Clamping 

I used a pattern to determine the shape of the new piece.  In this case I used a piece of recycled Cuban mahogany, as the table was made in that wood.  Note the tenon extension I provided which fit into the foot element, as there was not enough end grain on the foot piece to guarantee strength.

Foot on Left Photo, Leg on Right Side, Pattern for Repair

This shows the repair after the clamps were removed:

Cuban Mahogany Element Before Shaping 

Looking at the leg from the end to be sure it was straight:

Looks Straight To Me

A second piece of mahogany was added to the bottom of the leg for extra strength across the weakest part of the repair:

Second Piece of Mahogany Added to Bottom of Leg

This is the repair before finishing:

Note The Curve Is Continuous and Smooth

I actually don't like the term "Carpenter".  I am not a "Carpenter".  Carpenters build houses and use nails to fasten wood together.  For the purposes of this post I will not complain.  It is a metaphor.

I am a Problem Solver.

Disposable, Renewable or Enduring?

I was raised in a very thrifty environment, a direct result of my parents working hard to hang onto the lowest rung of the middle class ladder.  I remember my great uncle telling stories about earning 10 cents an hour polishing beans for the local grocer.  I was amazed.  "Polishing beans?" I asked.

"Yes, and I was glad for the job at that time.  Beans would sell for a few cents more if they were shiny, so I would take some wax and dip my hands in the beans and work them until they were clean and shiny."

This man was the same man who never had more than 20 dollars at a time in his pocket all the years I knew him.  I suspect it was the same 20 dollar bill as I never saw him buy anything.  "Everything you need is already at the local dump.  And it's free for the taking."  It turns out that when he died, we discovered he had substantial savings accounts in dozens of banks across the country, so that wherever he visited he had some reserves, if needed.

That durable and practical generation which lived through the Great Depression is now just a faint memory.  What the world experienced in the past decade was shocking but nothing compared to the 1930's.

I have spent my life restoring historic furniture, saving it from the trash heap of time.  I have a deep respect for those who had the knowledge to select the proper tree, and be able to transform it into a beautiful and practical object using only wind, water and human power.  We could learn a great deal of important information if we would just take the time to analyze those objects and understand the process which produced them.

Antiques represent a culture which is enduring and still important for us to appreciate even centuries later.  Of course, not everything was wonderful.  There was disease, poverty, poor sanitation, uneven distribution of wealth, war and conflict.  As I list these problems, I realize that they are still part of our society today.  I guess we haven't evolved as much as I thought.

I ask myself, "What will my generation leave for the future?"  The answer is not pretty.

When I was born the United States had just dropped the atomic bomb on Japan.   I am the child of the first nuclear age, and, like others who came of age during this time, I was fascinated with the prospect of understanding the atom.  So much so that I built an electron accelerator ("atom smasher") in High School and took several awards at the Science Fair, going on to work at Brookhaven Labs and getting a degree in Applied Physics at UCSD.

I know a few things about the atom, I guess.  Enough so that I decided to walk away from my chosen career over 40 years ago when I realized that science could not solve the nuclear waste problem.  Science can create radioactivity but cannot find a way to keep it out of the environment.  Talk about an enduring legacy:  It is a fact that human generated radioactive waste will be polluting the earth thousands of years after the pyramids have fallen into desert dust.  That is what my generation will be remembered for...

At the same time, we live in a disposable society which has no concern at all about making and selling computers and phones with toxic materials, at great expense, only to make them obsolete after a few years of use.  Make, Consume, Discard.  How much longer can we sustain this business model?

It seems logical for corporations to find workers on the other side of the planet who will work for less and make something a few cents cheaper than someone else.  However, what is the real carbon footprint of that object by the time it reaches the consumer?  Take IKEA furniture, for example.  Much of the material used in IKEA furniture is manufactured using toxic chemicals and synthetic materials.  Then it is transported a great distance in shipping containers which are disposed of by the consumer in a landfill.  It is "cost effective" and serves its purpose but lasts only a few years before it falls apart and is replaced by a similar, but cheaper item.

Compare that with a piece of antique furniture.  The tree was either locally harvested by hand or transported by ship using wind power.  The wood was processed by water driven saws and shaped by human talent.  It was transported overland with water or horse power, and later by steam.  It was only when steam was created by burning coal that it started to produce a carbon footprint.

That same piece of antique furniture produced subsequent jobs for workers who repaired, polished, upholstered and restored it from generation to generation.  It created memories and connections to the people who used it, strengthening family history and direct connections to the land.  It provided comfort and a sense of culture as times changed, providing a constant reference point in a world of flux.

In simple words, it was a renewable source of material culture, and will continue to function in that important capacity as long as we respect its integrity and original purpose.  That is why I have devoted my talents to restoring antique furniture.  It gives me a great deal of pleasure knowing I have saved something from the past and that it will continue to exist long into the future.

Why Not Period Glue?

Synthetic Glue Sucks

I joined the Society of American Period Furniture Makers in 2000, when they first got together.  I really enjoyed going to Williamsburg, even though it was in January, and I had been there dozens of times before.  The reason I had so much fun was the experience of spending a week with like minded furniture makers, from all over the country.  We talked about furniture styles, different methods of construction and tools from different periods, finishes and just about every aspect of our craft that was important.

Usually, when I am in a social environment and others find out I work in wood, the topic of conversation ends up with someone discussing their efforts to build a coffee table or birdhouse.  It is a completely different situation at these SAPFM events.  Furniture design and construction is a real passion with this group, and nothing is too esoteric or obscure to merit hours of intense dialogue.

What fun.

I was an active member in the early years.  I was fortunate to be asked by Roy Underhill to tape a segment on his show, The Woodwright's Shop, which required me to ship a large container of tools and materials back East.  At the same time, since I was there with all my stuff, I demonstrated on stage during the SAPFM conference and made a short video for them about the chevalet.

It was interesting, since there are two back to back sessions of the "Working Wood in the 18th Century" event, and I had a conflict with the second week.  Therefore, I asked Silas Kopf to stand in for me and use my props.  During my presentation, I had each segment of the talk prepared in boxes ahead of time.  Each box was numbered so all I had to do was reach under the bench and pull out the next box which had the materials for that segment of the talk.

I worked fine for me, since I was familiar with all the props, and had a time tested presentation developed over several years of talks at the Getty museum.  It was not so easy for Silas, who does his marquetry using a completely different method.

I need to stress at this point that I think Silas is the greatest marquetry artist working in the US.

As it turned out, he made the effort to use my props and present the talk on French marquetry methods that we had agreed to.  But, after about 15 minutes of his talk, he abruptly changed direction.  "That's the way Patrick and the French do it.  Now I want to talk about how I do it."  His presentation was excellent, but not what we had planned.

I also wanted to contribute to the new Journal of the SAPFM, called "American Period Furniture."  For issue #1 I wrote "Form Follows Process," which analyzed the different methods of work used by craftsmen before and after the Industrial Revolution.  For issue #3 I wrote about my research into the Price Guides of the early 19th century, documenting the time required to make each aspect of furniture using hand tools, "Period Productivity".

1820 Cuban Mahogany with 1980 Synthetic Glue

In Issue #2 I did something different.  During the first session I attended, I was amazed that all the woodworkers there were passionate about choosing the right woods, following period design exactly, understanding period finishes, and so on.  There was a certain amount of divergence in whether or not to use only hand tools, and that I understand.  Most of the members had access to power tools and the general consensus was that it was ok to use power as long as a certain amount of hand finishing was involved.

The area which startled me involved glues.  Practically every person I talked with used modern synthetic glues to make their period furniture.  I could not understand this "blind spot" in an otherwise very academic group of individuals.

So I wrote an article for issue #2 called "Why Not Period Glue"  I took the position that traditional glues were used for centuries and worked fine.  If there was a modern glue which did something better than these traditional glues, show me the advantage and I will use it.  The only one which comes to mind is epoxy, which can be used to repair metal parts.  Of course epoxy should never be used for wood repairs, or worse, tortoise shell, ivory or any other material.

Missing Tenon/ Covered in Plastic Glue

Most of the woodworkers used glues like yellow glue, carpenter's glue, white glue, and other glues with fancy chemical names I never heard of.  Hardly a glue pot among the entire group.

Only those who made their living restoring antiques seemed to understand why it is important to use traditional glues.

Cleaning Surface with Toothing Iron

I was reminded of this article today, as I worked to repair a broken leg on a period Baltimore dining table.  The leg was originally attached with a double tenon to the apron.  One of the tenons had broken and the repair was made by adding yellow glue and clamping.  That repair did not work, of course.

Old Brown Glue Ready for Use

In typical fashion, the clamping was not done properly.  The wood surface was not cleaned in advance.  The missing tenon was not replaced.  And on other legs of this table, the repair was "enhanced" by a series of nails, which did nothing but damage the wood.

As I removed the leg to begin the repair, it was obvious that the synthetic glue did not stick to the wood.  Using a sharp chisel, I was able to pick off most of the glue chips, which came away like flakes of paint.  I think of synthetic glue as a plastic, and plastic does not stick well to wood.  I typically use a toothing iron to scrape away the glue residue and tooth the surface.  You must be careful to not remove wood; just glue.  It takes a bit of care, and the toothing iron helps.

Tenon Replaced, Ready for OBG

 I just felt good, when I was ready to apply the glue for the repair.  All the wood surfaces were toothed and clean of plastic glue.  The tenon was made and installed.  The clamps were ready and clamping blocks were installed.  (See the post on Vector Clamping)


I warmed the glue, brushed it on and applied the clamps.  Another antique repair done professionally, using the same glue that the original maker would have used some 200 years ago.  I'm sure he would approve.

Gigi Inspecting Protein Glue

Typical Marquetry Restoration

I really enjoy working on period marquetry surfaces, in particular those made with sawn veneers before 1800.  The quality of the materials, range of exotic materials used and, most importantly, the thickness of those materials make conservation and restoration of those surfaces more successful, when you know what you are doing.

Last week I started the restoration of a marquetry panel on the base of an English tall case clock, made around 1700.  This clock, like most of those clocks from that period, had lost its feet along with the lower 6" of the carcase, including the side panels.  When it was last restored, in the 1920's, in London, the worker removed the surviving marquetry from the lower part of the panel and replaced the pine board underneath.  Then he replaced the marquetry surface as best he could, saving most of the elements.  He also replaced both side panels of the base, and added a double molded base where the round feet were.

Inside the case, I found a lot of powder post beetle damage, so I had the clock fumigated by a professional in a chamber for 48 hours with methyl bromide gas.  Methyl bromide gas is the best way to guarantee full kill of the eggs, as most other fumigants kill only the adult and larvae, leaving the eggs to start the deadly process over once they hatch.

Here is the clock, with the sides removed.

Here is the face of the panel, showing the problems caused by substrate shrinkage.  The lower piece which was added in the 1920's has pulled away from the panel, and there is a lot of wood loss due to the bug damage.  Much of the marquetry surface is loose, as the glue has dried up, and the only thing holding these pieces together is the mastic and surface dirt and finish.

First I carefully removed the panel from the clock, so I could work on it.  Now you can see the condition of the marquetry and finish.

On the back you can see the loss of wood, as well as the newer lower board.  There were also two small pieces of wood applied by the repair man to old the cracks together.  They didn't work and were easily removed.

A close look at the restoration effort by the London worker in 1920 shows his technique for saving the marquetry surface.  He soaked off the elements with heat and moisture and saved them.  However, the background ebony was damaged and lost.  He replaced the background with a similar dark wood but was unable to properly cut in the cavities for the original inlay.  He used various chisels to carve out larger cavities for each of the elements and then filled in the surround with a dark mastic, which has now cracked.

I first worked on gluing the substrate boards back together.  This required cleaning old glue and dirt from the joints, using a toothing plane to prepare the edge, and gluing the three boards back together.  This also required a slight adjustment of some of the surface elements, as the substrate was no longer the original size, but had shrunk across the grain, as is normal.  Once the substrate was stable I turned it over and started working on the marquetry itself.

I was fortunate to be a participant in an international group of marquetry restorers in Paris during the early 1990's.  We called our group ADEN, which was a combination of the Musee des Arts Decoratifs de Paris and the Ecole Nationale Superieure Des Technologies et Industries du Bois, located in Nancy, France.  We did a lot of research on modifying protein glues, age testing, rehydrating old glues, and other specific problems related to conserving old marquetry.

One of the papers published in March 1997 specifically discussed this problem of the clock:  Amelioration des operations de recollage des placages et de redressement des panneaux-supports lors de la restoration de panneaux decoratifs.  Short translation: how to restore old marquetry panels.

Out of this research came the idea to make and modify protein glues, which I used to develop Old Brown Glue.  Although OBG is now sold nationally and used for a wide range of woodworking projects, I developed it originally to restore marquetry, which requires a long open time and deep penetration properties, as well as the ability to rehydrate and bond to old protein glue itself.

The first step is to place paper towels on the surface and add clean distilled water.  Watch and wait a few minutes or longer for the water to soak into the mastic and under the loose elements.  When you can see that the mastic has expanded and is raising up from the surface, you stop and remove the paper towels and surface moisture.  Then you flood the surface with Old Brown Glue and rub it into the marquetry.  Be careful to hold down all the loose elements while at the same time pushing the glue around, allowing it to suck under all the loose edges.

This method is usually done with the finish intact.  It is not necessary or desirable to remove the surface shellac or finish for this to work.  Note that the glue will penetrate only where the finish is damaged or lost, and only where the marquetry elements are loose or missing.  That is one of the neat features of this process.  You can conserve the original finish, if it exists and still reglue the marquetry in place.

Note I am holding down the floating loose elements with my left hand fingers while I am rubbing the glue over the surface with the right hand.

At the same time, I have heated an aluminum plate on top of a kerosene heater.  I place two layers of clean newspaper on the plate and the lay the marquetry panel glue side (face side) down on the paper.
The heated plate cannot be too hot.  If it burns your skin it will burn the glue.  150 degrees maximum.

Place the heated plate with the panel into the press as soon as possible.  I use gloves so I can hold the plate.

Place some boards on top and press.  Leave overnight.  Clean off the paper with cold water.

The next step is to create all the missing elements of the marquetry.  For this, it helps to have a French chevalet to accurately cut the elements, using sawn veneer that matches the original species.  There is a neat trick I use which works perfectly to capture the shape of a missing inlay piece.  I use thermal FAX paper, which is nearly extinct, since all modern fax machines are paperless.  I have a large supply of thermal fax paper on hand.  Place the fax paper over the missing area and burnish it with a hard smooth tool.  With experimentation you will find just the right tool.  Be sure to tape the fax paper tightly in place so it doesn't move.  After you capture the outline of the element, you use a light table to transfer that shape to a piece of tracing paper.  You cannot use the fax paper to cut the piece with the chevalet, as the heat of the blade will create a large dark shadow in the thermal paper.  Glue the tracing paper onto the proper veneer, which is held in a packet with a supporting board and some grease paper.

Place the elements in a tray, using the original fax paper as a guide so that you know where they go.

Place the new elements into the marquetry picture using Old Brown Glue to hold them.  Put again in the press with two layers of news paper and a heated plate.  Clean up the paper with cold water.

Note that there are still pieces of paper on the new elements.  This is also removed with cold water and gentle scraping.  Once the surface is clean you can begin the process of coloring the new elements to match the old.  Different chemicals, dyes and stains are normally used to balance the color and shellac is used to seal in the results.  Here is the panel during the coloring process.  It is not finished.  I will glue it onto the clock and finish all the other small repairs before I complete the polishing,  The original finish of the clock will be conserved with a French rubbing compound, called a "popote."  When the clock is done, next week, I will post a final picture.

I hope this illustrates clearly how you can approach such a project with a systematically proven process.  I am not the only person who uses this technique.  I can assure you that many workers in Europe, both in museums and private practice, are using these methods on a regular basis.  The goal is, of course, to conserve the great work of the masters for the future appreciation of collectors not yet born.

UPDATE:  Here is a photo of the clock put back together, cleaned and polished with a fresh coat of wax.

Human vrs. Chair

Many, many years ago I worked in the garage behind my house.  I know this is not unusual.  It is a real pleasure to get up, eat and walk out the back door to work.  I share this happy activity with many fellow woodworkers who have the shop near their house.

When the kids got too big for the house, we had to move, and, through some lucky act of fate, found a larger house in the same neighborhood.  This neighborhood is a historic node of Craftsman houses on the edge of Balboa Park, and the business district where my shop is located is the first urban shopping district located East of downtown San Diego.  Every day, as I walk to work and home again, I search out the date stamps in the sidewalks, ranging from 1909 to the 1920's.  

Honestly, I know this is not "old" when compared to Boston, New York, or any European city, but, in San Diego, this is ancient.  Remember, the motto of this city is "City in Motion."  That doesn't emphasize where we were, but rather, where we are going.  I prefer to focus on the past, even though it is fairly recent.

One result of this philosophy and/or lifestyle of living in San Diego is a lack of concern for antiques in general.  First of all, the kind of antiques I work on came from the East Coast or Europe long before San Diego built its "new" downtown during the 1880's.  Before that it was mostly a small village of Spanish, Indians and Sailors who called this place home.

The reason I mention this is that I find that the residents of San Diego can sometimes be rather insensitive to the way they treat nice antique furniture.  I am trying to be nice, but I have seen real criminal activity in my time, real "crimes against antiques."

Take chairs, for example.  Chairs are one of the most difficult objects to design.  They must be stylish, fairly light in weight and construction, and yet hold up under huge stresses, as overweight people twist and turn and lean back after dinner.  This is under "normal use."  When actual destructive criminal intent is the goal, they end up in the dump.  I wonder how many chairs have been destroyed in the past century alone.  I'm not even talking about floods, fire and earthquakes; just ignorant human activity.

Here are some examples I have found just walking around the neighborhood.  Usually, I don't go out of my way looking for garage sales, but, when it is on the way to work, I sometimes stop for a few minutes.  After all, I have to walk 6 blocks each way.

One day I happened upon a young guy sitting on his porch working on this chair:

I instantly recognized an iconic Klismos chair made in Baltimore during the 1820's and probably by John and Hugh Finlay, famous chair makers at that time.  In fact, it appeared to me that it still retained all of its original surface decoration, including the gilt stenciling.

Except the top crest.

As I watched, he was aggressively sanding away the flat decoration on the crest, using 80 grit sandpaper and a pad.  I ran across the yard, yelling for him to "Stop!" He looked up from his work and asked me what I wanted.  I asked him what he was doing.  I might have used a swear word.

He said he was going to refinish the chair and sell it.  For $20.  Fortunately for the chair and the history of chair making, I had $20 and was able to rescue the poor chair from a fate worse than the dump.  I restored the crest and now the chair once again stands as a proud example of American glory in the early days of our history.

On another day, walking a different rout, I came upon a sale which, for some reason, made me stop and look.  It was strange, as mostly there was just junk and old clothes.  But, as I reached the end of the drive I noticed a paper grocery shopping bag full of old sticks of walnut.  A single bag on the ground.  Looking in more closely, I noticed chair legs, aprons, crests, and other parts of walnut chairs, all broken up in pieces.  I asked the person in charge what it was and he said, "There are 5 chairs in there.  I broke them up so someone could use the wood, perhaps for fire wood or something."  Again, I might have used a bad word.  I did have the sense to ask if he kept the seats, and he pointed to the trash can nearby.

I gave him $40 dollars and walked away with 5 New York walnut gothick side chairs from 1840.  In a shopping bag.  Did I mention that what I find is considered criminal?

After putting the chairs back together (I actually had all the pieces!), I eventually sold them to a collector who really appreciated them, and forgot about them.  That was about a decade ago.   This week that same collector walked into my shop with this chair from that set:

I examined it and found that it had broken in some new places and a few of my old repairs.  She told me that it had been knocked over backwards and broke.  She also said that they were in daily use and none of the chairs had broken until this accident.  This is the kind of feedback a chair repair man likes to hear.  Also, she had the good sense to bring it back to me instead of asking the neighbor to screw or nail it back together.

I heated up  the protein glue with some warm water, scraped the broken joints with a toothing plane iron, added some Old Brown Glue and a few clamps and it now sits on the bench, ready to go home tomorrow.

Score some points for the good guys in the war against the chair.

Why Reversibility?

I have always tried in my career to follow accepted museum practice for proper conservation of antique furniture and other wooden objects.  I have naturally had some independent conclusions which differ from certain methods I have seen used in museum labs, such as using modern upholstery methods and materials on antique furniture, and I have discussed that issue previously on this blog.

Also, I have resisted using modern, experimental chemicals, glues and finishes, which are commonly accepted in many conservation labs.  Part of that decision is driven by the experiences I had in European workshops and museums, where traditional methods and finishes are more standard.  Part of that decision goes to the basic reason I started this career in the first place.  I was involved in some of the most high tech projects in my field, high energy particle physics, and had my "mid life crisis" at the age of 25.  I walked away from my research lab and into the 18th century.

I believe, absolutely, that the highly trained craftsmen working in the pre industrial age knew exactly what they were doing.  They had excellent materials, basic hand tools, and the experience of their ancestors, passed down over the ages.  They also had the financial support of a very rich class of merchants and royal patrons, who recognized quality at a very high level.

In any rate, the reason I am posting today is that I have recently been asked again about the reversibility of animal protein glue.  A basic rule in all museum restoration is that, whatever is done, it should be reversible.  The reason is that, in the case where future research indicates a better method is possible, the restoration could be removed and replaced with the better repair.

More importantly, it is essential in building furniture which is functional that repairs can be made when the object breaks.  Any furniture maker who thinks his creation is never going to be damaged or broken is not dealing with reality.  Objects which are designed to last centuries will be damaged.  That is a fact and that is why I never run out of work.  I can't count how many chairs I have repaired in 40+ years, and how many different types of damage they suffer.

Therefore, when a broken chair or other object arrives and there is nails, sheetrock screws, epoxy or, worse, "the strongest glue on planet Earth," I need to inform the owner that it will cost more and the repair will be less successful than if it had not been repaired or if it had just been glued with protein glue.

Fish glue, bone glue and hide glues are all reversible.  You need to understand what that means to effectively work with these glues.  They are all water soluble.  They need water combined with heat to change from solid to gel to liquid and back again.  Each has specific working characteristics, but they all have the same thing in common:  Adding heat and moisture reverses them.

Fish glue is somewhat different, as it is liquid normally at room temperature.  It cleans up easily with water.  Adding heat liquifies it easily.  It is designed to be used for holding materials together which expand and contract differently with environmental changes, like gluing metals to wood, or horn, ivory, bone and shell to wood.  It "relaxes" somewhat during heat/moisture cycles, and then sets again when stable, holding tight.

Bone and hide glues are normally dry and need cold water to be hydrated, then heated to be used.  Thus, they set initially by losing heat and then by losing moisture.  Each gel strength has a different rate of set and gel point, which is why I like to  use 192 gram strength.  It works well for all applications.

When I decided to modify my 192 glue with urea, my goal was to simply lower the gel point slightly, so that it could be used from a bottle.  The result is Old Brown Glue, which is currently carried by Rockler, Lee Valley, Tools for Working Wood, and several Woodcraft locations.

Fine Woodworking Magazine did an independent testing of OBG as well as other glues in their issue #192 (August 2007).  According to their tests, OBG was stronger in all tests than the "strongest glue on planet Earth."  I guess that makes it the "strongest glue in the universe?"  I should point out that, since it is non toxic and reversible, if you get it on your hands, just wash it off.  On the other hand, if you get polyurethane glue on your hands, you need to wait for several months while the skin falls off and you grow new skin.

That fact alone makes reversible glue attractive.

Here is the link for the pdf of the Fine Woodworking Test:

"How Strong Is Your Glue?"

If you are in Pasadena this weekend, stop by our booth at the Convention Center.  We are participating in the Woodworking in America show, and you can pick up some of our glue and see a French chevalet in action.

More Vector Clamping

I make a lot of my income from repairs. They are often quick and the simple methods I use guarantee results. I have always told customers that, if I fix it and it breaks where I fixed it, then I will repair it free. I can't recall a time in the past 43 years when I have had to fix something for free due to that guarantee.

 The reason I want to have the customer return it to me, if it breaks, is so I can learn from the failure and not repeat it in the future. Also, in the rare instance that I could not repair it properly, I don't want my work to end up in some other workshop. I value my reputation; it is all I have and it is good.

 Take chairs, for example. Nothing else comes close to making me money as broken chairs. There is no way I can even think of how many chairs I have fixed. Usually they come to me after other people have tried and failed. Therefore, I have also learned from other's mistakes. I have seen iron braces, iron rods, bolts, screws, epoxy, wire, staples, string, tape, "the strongest glue on planet Earth", and auto body filler, just to mention a few tricks, and all of them failed. At some point, the owner finds out about me and they end up on my bench. Always a challenge to undo the damage of previous repairs, which usually are worse than the original problem.

 Chairs take a beating. They are designed to be attractive, stylish and comfortable. They are not designed to support modern American bodies which are heavy and tend to force the structure in ways that it was not designed support. Add to that problem the fact that a majority of old chairs have suffered at least one repair in their life and you understand why I have so much work.

 Last week I was searching on the internet for Ming dynasty chairs, and I found a story about a visitor to a museum in China who felt tired and decided to sit down in a Ming chair which was on a pedestal behind a barrier rope. He broke the chair in three places, fortunately all places where there had been previous breaks. Like I said, antique chairs were not designed for the modern man. I think Frank Lloyd Wright had a point when he designed chairs so uncomfortable that no one wanted to sit in them.

 In any event, I repair chairs practically every day I work. Here are a few simple rules which I follow that make it pleasant. First of all, try to remove all other repairs. This means that, in the case where you have severely fractured wood, and lots of small fragments, you must do the repair over several days. Each day you glue two or three fragments together to form a larger piece. The next day this piece is glued to another, and so on, until you have a two large elements to assemble properly. Most workers try to put all the little pieces together at one time and it makes a mess, as they move around under clamping and the glue gets into the voids.

 Another rule is that it is always necessary to remove all traces of dirt and glue from the wood surface. Usually, with synthetic glues, this requires scraping and using a chisel to carefully remove the glue from the wood, without removing any wood. I prefer to use a toothing plane iron to scrape away, with the grain, the glue and dirt. You can use a small section of a hack saw blade (with larger teeth) to do the same thing, if you cannot find a toothing plane iron. Remember, you cannot glue dirt and expect it to work. Always consider the surface area of the wood in the repair to calculate the potential success of the job.

 End grain surfaces don't count. Long grain surfaces are the only areas where glue holds, and experience will tell you if there is sufficient surface area inside the joint to hold the stress. If not, you may need to add wood to the repair to make it work, either with an internal tenon or external "blister patch". Always use the most conservative repair that you can to protect the value of the object.

 I do not need to stress that the only glue to use is animal protein glue. Any reader of this blog knows where I stand on this question. As I've said for years, "I will use a synthetic glue only if it can be shown that my preferred animal glue won't work and the synthetic glue is better." Never gonna happen.

 The final advice is to understand vector forces when you apply your clamps. Most people do not have enough clamps or the proper variety of clamps to do the job professionally. I have many hundreds of clamps, of every imaginable type. I also have a large box of wood scraps to fit most common furniture shapes. You cannot clamp on curves or complex surfaces without adding wood blocks to provide a purchase for the clamps. The essential rule of vector clamping is that the primary clamp, which actually pulls the joint together, provides its force directly perpendicular to the center of the joint. With curves that means the clamp needs to be out in space, somewhere away from the actual furniture. Therefore, you need to provide a piece of wood shaped to fit the furniture, with a spot on that scrap of wood to hold the primary clamp in its proper position.

 I use a soft wood, like pine or tulip, so as to not damage the antique surface. I cut it to fit the shape of the curve. I provide enough surface area for the scrap to not slip and clamp it firmly to the chair part, before I use any glue. I use scraps of cork under the clamp blocks to protect the surface. I make a dry run after all the scraps are attached to see that it works properly. Then and only then do I reach for the glue.

 Old Brown Glue gives me the additional working time I need to assemble complicated repairs, and has amazing holding power. I apply the glue and then the primary clamp. If I have done my job properly, then I am rewarded with a nice bead of glue evenly squeezing out under pressure as I tighten the primary clamp. No slipping, no change in alignment, no panic. Just success.


 I am rewarded with a happy customer who can use his antique chair, and a quick paycheck. When i make $100 for a 15 minute repair, I am reminded that the 15 minutes took 43 years to learn.

The Phoenix Table

Last September I posted an entry here about an elderly lady who lives in a historic Craftsman house just a few blocks from the shop. I mentioned that her entire house went up in flames (actually it exploded) when some very stupid refinishers tried to strip all the woodwork with the windows and doors closed and the water heater turned on. She was lucky to get out alive.

At that time she had a very large pine table which had been made in New York some 50 years ago. It wasn't an antique, and it wasn't particularly well made, but I had been hired by her previously to refinish it with a more "authentic" finish than the yellow lacquer.

She had a particular attachment to that table, since it had been made for one of her dear friends who had a large family, and it brought back good memories of her past. Although it was very large, it was one of the few items in the house that the brave fire fighters actually moved outside while fighting the fire.

When I saw the smoke from the fire, while standing in the front door of my workshop, I rushed over to see which house was burning. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to see that table sitting on the lawn, smoldering. Naturally it was beyond saving.

Fortunately, this lady had good insurance, and the strong determination to not only rebuild, but to restore the home exactly as it was built in 1926. She found some experienced contractors and supervised every step of the job, fighting the city code during the entire process. She moves in to the "new" historic house next month.

Since all of her antique furnishings were lost, she has been collecting replacements. That is why she came back to me to rebuild the pine dining table. I don't usually work in pine, but it is a change of pace to just do "timber framing" and "rough" hand planing. Where the original table was held together with dowels and bolts, this version is strictly traditional: wedges, pins and mortise and tenon construction.

The top is the same size as the first table, 4 feet by 8 feet. It fits well on the top of my bench. Tomorrow I start the process of finishing it and by next week she should have the table sitting on her new hardwood floor in the dining room.

I don't think she will have the woodwork in the house stripped again.

The Final Reward

I often think that I could have gone into the medical field. I might have been a plastic surgeon or a "bone doctor" for example. As a plastic surgeon, my job would have been to repair cosmetic damage in such a way that it was not obvious anything was done. As a bone doctor, my job would have been to repair complicated broken bones so that the person was made whole again. Either way, I would have had a lot more stress, and more money by this time.

By my estimate, I have restored over 10,000 objects in my career. I think that may be conservative, but I only really count the larger projects. Like the baby doctor who has delivered hundreds of babies into the world, it is hard to remember all of them. Each one is special and unique at the time of delivery, but the next day there is another job to do, "and so it goes."

Here are two photos of jobs we just completed this week. The first is the chair, which I did for my own pleasure (ie: I was the client) (in other words: no money). The second is the mirror which Patrice did as his first gold leaf project.

The chair project was very rewarding. I was able to completely conserve all the original materials which were in the upholstery, and I had a piece of fabric and some trim which was perfect for the job. You will note the work I did on this chair in earlier posts. The fact that this chair was found in the trash and on its way to the dump in a pickup truck when I got it is even more satisfying. One of the most important reasons I am in this profession is to save (recycle) important cultural artifacts from the past which would otherwise be lost forever. This chair is now ready for the next century of use, and I trust that, when it is dirty, broken and torn, a person who appreciates it will take the time to put it back together.

The mirror is also very exciting. Patrice worked very hard on it, and it was a difficult first project due to its Rococo carving and condition. He added gold leaf to the entire frame (again I refer to earlier posts) and created a patina which the client desired. We both spent some time discussing whether the patina was enough or too much or not enough. The client was very pleased at the result and Patrice should be complimented for his effort. I told him that, without him, I would never tackle such a job.

All I did for this project was clean the mirror.

Conservation and Restoration

How do we treat cultural objects which have survived generations of changing taste? Are we simply custodians, and, if so, what is our role in their survival for future generations to appreciate and enjoy?

As a "furniture conservator in private practice," I am in many ways free to establish my own work ethic in my business. I could, for example, use epoxy and foam or add a zebra skin to a Chippendale chair, as the market demands. On the other hand, I could refuse (as I did) to cut out the back panels of a Baroque marquetry armoire, dated 1698, to fit the gigantic television of a rich client. (She was very upset that I refused her request, and I lost a lot of work with that decision.)

Conservators are like doctors in that they are supposed to "do no harm." Unlike doctors, we are also obliged to not remove original material. Conservation means conserving. That said, sometimes it is necessary to make difficult decisions to do invasive work for the survival of the object. In that case, the conservator becomes a restorer. Restoration is necessary when a part of the object has become damaged beyond repair, by bugs, rot or accident. Restoration must be as authentic as possible, but not with any suspicion of "faking." It is a challenging job.

Consider, as a typical example, the question of "original finish" which I have discussed here before. I usually tell my clients that there are two questions to consider when they ask me about refinishing. (1): "Is the finish protecting the wood?" and (2): "Is the appearance of the finish beautiful?"

In the first case, if the finish is damaged beyond repair and no longer protecting the wood, I recommend replacing it with an identical finish. In general, the paste wax protects the polish which protects the wood which protects the protein glues from humidity and mold. If the finish fails, the object will quickly deteriorate. In addition, with many homeowners using oil polishes and sprays, a finish which is missing in areas will allow the uneven penetration of these materials which will damage the wood.

In the second case, if the client appreciates the dark, dirty and opaque look of the finish, fine. Many collectors pay a premium for that look. On the other hand, even the most famous furniture dealers on Antiques Roadshow, who complain about the loss of value when a piece has been refinished, have highly skilled refinishers working in their businesses who do exactly that. Their advice would be more instructive if they explained why using synthetic finishes damages the value but restoring correctly the original finish increases value.

I have seen respected museums make terrible decisions about conservation. When I was studying at Winterthur, in the summer of 1978, I fell in love with the Boston lacquer high chest made by John Pimm, spending hours closely examining the decorative surface. It was one of the signature pieces in their collection, and worth a great deal of money, simply because of the condition of the finish. Soon after that, on another visit, I was horrified to discover that they had coated the surface with a new product, which gave it a shiny, plastic glow. When I asked the conservator about it, he indicated that this new product had a special solvent, and in the future (should it be necessary!) this solvent would dissolve the finish without harming the original finish underneath. Why experiment on this particular piece?

At another time, I believe it was in the Met in New York, I came upon a conservator who was injecting gallons of epoxy into cracks in an ancient carved stone statue. That was about 30 years ago, and I wonder what is the condition of that statue today?

In my mind, there are two obvious reasons to keep things original. The first is to protect the original character of the piece, exactly as it was made, and the second is to provide a learning tool for us to understand exactly how and why it was made that way in a historical and cultural context.

This brings me to the prejudice against upholstery as represented by the acceptance of "non intervention" upholstery methods pervasive today in many American museums. While I was at a conference in Williamsburg, the speaker (a conservator) asked the audience at the end of his talk if there were any questions. I was sitting in the front row, directly in front of the podium and I raised my hand.

"Sir, I note that you have objects on display which include many historic layers of finish, and the purpose of that display is to show the changing taste of fashion and style over time. At the same display, you have removed all evidence of upholstery and replaced it with foam and velcro upholstery. Why not treat the upholstery evidence in a similar way as the finish?"

His response was quick and shocking: "I am a conservator. My job is not to conserve things."

This is why I am in private practice. My job is to conserve things.

Upholstery Conservation

Burlap in place over springs

Original straw stuffing in place

New Burlap tacked over stuffing

Original Spanish moss in place

Muslin covering

Final Results

Upholstery Conservation

A few weeks ago, one of my marquetry students stopped by the shop and asked me if I wanted a chair. In his pickup was this chair, made around 1880 or so, with all the original upholstery intact, although in very poor condition. One foot was broken off and a carved finial was missing.

I cannot say "no" to free antiques.

After the repair and refinishing, I began to conserve the upholstery foundation. Note the previous post on this site where I am taking it apart.

The method used to upholster this chair is amazing. During the 1870's the art of upholstery reached a very evolved state, and the taste in furniture was for elaborate and complicated upholstery designs. Not only was the fabric and trim exotic, but the method of tying springs to achieve comfort was very advanced.

The opportunity to examine and conserve an example, which has survived for over a century was too much to pass up. Here was another chance for me to sit next to the master who created the upholstery on this chair and learn from his work. Layer by layer, as I took it apart, I understood what he was doing and why.

The selection of stuffing, for example, is revealing. The initial layer of stuffing is straw, which was not expensive, and provided a rather hard edge when stitched. On top of that was Spanish moss, a medium expense, designed to provide a medium layer of resiliency. On top of that was curled horsehair, one of the most expensive materials, chosen to provide a softer top. On top of that was a thin layer of wool cloth batting, which prevented the hair from sticking through the show fabric.

Of course, the burlap and muslin was rotten and torn; that is usual. The proper conservation method is to replace the burlap and muslin, while conserving all the original stuffing, and adding stitching to hold it all in place, like it was done originally.

This series of photos shows the work to restore the seat and sprung back, up to the muslin. The seat has a wire front edge, so the stuffing must be sewn to that, as well as on the sides of the seat to hold an edge. The back is interesting, in that it contains 4 small springs in the center of a stitched edge. As you can see, I needed to re stitch the edges and sew the springs to hold them in place.

The last photos show the chair in muslin, ready for show cloth. I haven't covered the armrests yet, but they are in place.

Sitting in this chair is like sitting in a catcher's mitt...you fit so comfortably you do not want to get up.

Typical Upholstery Project

Of all the traditional organic materials used in upholstering antique furniture, perhaps straw is the most difficult to conserve. Straw was one of the earliest stuffing materials used, going back easily to the 16th century. It is commonly available, essentially free, and has fairly good initial resilience. However, it compacts over time and breaks down, so that after a century of use it is in poor condition.

Compare that with the best material, horse and hog hair. Even after a century of hard use, curled hair retains its shape, and is much easier to clean and reuse.

I have focused on conserving straw during my career, since it is a challenge and since it is often discarded by other upholsterers, so that a majority of antiques are being converted to modern, synthetic stuffings. Did I mention I hate foam and staples?

I just started a parlor chair from around 1885 which has its original straw foundation. This chair is from the decade after Turkish upholstery was the fashion. Turkish upholstery represented the high point of the upholsterer's craft in the 19th century and exotic and complicated forms of upholstery were produced, using expensive fabrics, trims and accessories.

This chair carries that style of upholstery on a decorative frame, with spring stuffed back panel and seat, and large arm cushions which curl around both sides of the arm support. These photos show the original stuffing foundation as I took it apart. The first photo shows the chair without its fabric. You can see the basic burlap covering on the seat, stitched with a wire front edge. The arms are also stitched. The back panel has been removed and is resting in place.

The second picture shows the back panel structure. The springs are surrounded by a hard stitched edge with straw stuffing. The horsehair is placed in the center of the top.

The third picture shows the chair laying on its back on my work table. The seat stuffing has been cut away from the springs and is folded back to make it easier to remove it. This stuffing is very fragile, since it is just straw and the burlap is rotten. I use care to keep it intact, vacuum it and transfer it back into its original position during the restoration. You can see the difference in the burlap which covers the springs now (replaced by an upholsterer some 50 years ago) and the torn burlap which is original to the stuffing, holding the straw in place.

The last picture shows the original springs and the method of tying them in place. This pattern is called "8 knot" tie, since each spring has 8 knots. Note the cords tie both the tops of the springs as well as all the centers of the outside springs to hold them in place under load. This is the way I was taught to tie springs. There is also a great deal of broken straw debris which sits on the top of the webbing. Fortunately, this chair was not used much after the burlap became torn. With most upholstery, and straw in particular, if the seat is used after the supporting burlap tears, the stuffing quickly becomes chewed up and damaged beyond repair.

This chair has been properly restored once before me, by an upholsterer who knew what to do, probably 50 years ago. He removed the stuffing exactly as I have done and removed the jute webbing from the bottom of the chair. He added new jute webbing, and then sewed the base of the springs to the webbing to hold them in place. He tied the tops of the springs using Italian cord and added new burlap to the top, stitching it in place to the wire edge and springs. Then he carefully returned the original stuffing to its original position. I will do the same, except I do not need to treat the springs, as they are still in good shape.

One of the clues that I am not the first person to work on conserving this chair is the chalk numbers indicating which corner blocks go where.

When you can feel the springs come up into the seat, stop using the chair. Take it to a traditional upholster and save the stuffing. It's the right thing to do.

I will post more during the restoration so you can see how I do it.