Tuesday, August 31, 2010

White House Center Table


When you look at the last 50 years of collecting American antiques, you must appreciate the influence Jackie Kennedy had on our generation. When I say "our" generation, of course I refer to the Boomers. As I was born just after the War, I have lived my life along with a herd of others, always hearing about the Baby Boom and its impact on everything from Rock and Roll to housing costs.

Before Jackie walked into the White House, antiques were a dusty relic of rich "old money" families. Stuff that had always sat in the unused rooms of ancient mansions. Remember, before 1966 antiques were defined as "made before 1830" and who could afford those things?

However, when Jackie decided to decorate the White House with American antiques, it caught the attention of everyone. All eyes were on her efforts to draw attention to the culture and craft of early America's past. For the first time in my young life, I started to focus on furniture and Decorative Arts as something interesting, as well as the history behind their creation.

My family took a trip to Washington, D.C. during this time, and I was lucky enough to tour the White House as a teenager. When I walked into the Blue Room I fell in love with everything I saw. And right in the center of the room was this round marble top table with a dark mahogany skin that reflected the light like a beautiful girl laying on the beach covered in sunscreen. Little did I know that, much later in life, I would have a mid life crisis that required me to make that table.

I have already talked about my success in veneering columns. It was a simple decision to make this table, since most of the work was making the three columns. The bronze dore mounts were ordered from Paris, along with the capitals and bases for the columns. I spent thousands of dollars on the mounts, choosing mercury gilding and chasing by a Parisian expert who had graduated from ecole Boulle. The rosewood was veneer I had kept in my veneer cave for years. The polish was French polish, which takes some time to do properly.

The real difficulty was in turning the molding around the top under the marble. The only machine I have in the shop is a 1952 Shop Smith. I purchased it when I started business in 1969 since I thought it was a good lathe. I threw away all the other attachments since I had no use for the jig saw, table saw, disc sander, etc. I just wanted a good, cheap spindle lathe for making parts. I kept the face plate attachment, which was 4" in diameter.

Now I needed to turn a cocobolo molding which was over 3 feet in diameter! I was filled with the challenge and a good helping of respect and fear for my life. I used cocobolo since I did not have enough solid rosewood to use, and I thought cocobolo would be a close match in color and grain.

I made a plywood circle and bolted it to the 4" face plate. I turned the Shop Smith motor and head around to turn outboard, so the large plywood blank would just clear the floor. I loaded the bed of the Shop Smith with as much weights as I could find, several hundred pounds. I mounted a tool rest on a stable bench just near the edge of the turning. I glued the cocobolo segments to the edge of the plywood and went home.

I could not sleep that night.

When I approached the lathe set up the next day, I said to myself "What was I thinking?' I even went so far as to put protective barriers around the lathe so that if (when) it exploded it would minimize the damage to the room. I put on lots of clothing to protect myself and flipped the switch. Long before the spinning plywood reached full speed I turned it off. As it slowed down I pressed a chisel against the edge and began to smooth it down. On with the switch, wait 10 seconds, off with the switch, cut with the chisel. Repeat. Each time it got more balanced and I could leave the power on longer.

After a long time I was able to turn it on and leave it on, while standing in the far corner of the room. When it did not explode, I finished the turning. I was covered in cocobolo dust and shavings. Later I found out that some people have a sensitivity to cocobolo dust. I was more worried about dying.

Never again will I do something that foolish. Do not try this at home.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Chippendale Chairs


I spend a lot of time visiting nice homes. I guess you could say I am fortunate as my shop is within easy driving distance of several areas where very expensive homes are located. The term, "McMansions" has been created to describe this genre of living. Homes with excess of 10,000 square feet would certainly qualify as having more space than is necessary for two people to exist in comfort.

As I have walked through literally hundreds of these McMansions over the years, I have become somewhat immune to the impressive scale and luxurious furnishings, many of which are simply decorative or even fake. What stands out in my mind, as I wander the marble halls, is the occasional period antique that is interesting or rare.

Dining rooms are a particular problem for the antique decorator to furnish. Actual dining tables were not made before the end of the 18th century, and most of the large scale dining tables are made up in the late 20th century to look antique, as the demand rose. On the other hand, period chairs are available, but often broken and repaired so poorly that they no longer serve their function.

Then there are the sets of chairs which have been "expanded." This is more common than you might think. Just take 4 antique chairs, for example, and knock them apart completely. Make duplicate parts, as "repairs" and you then assemble them to be 8 chairs. Each chair is 50% period and 50% "restored" so the collector/dealer can brag about how rare it is to have a large set. And they have been "restored" so they are ready for use!

One day I visited a home and discovered a set of 6 really fine Chippendale mahogany dining chairs, which had never been worked on. They impressed me as to the structural design, with stretchers, tapered legs, and a solid pierced splat on the back. They needed a little regluing, so I took them into the shop, where I made some measurements and a sketch for the future.

Later, when a client asked me to make some sturdy and early chairs, I was ready to go to work. I purchased two Honduras boards, 6/4 and 8/4. One board was slightly darker than the other, so I used the darker board for all the vertical elements and the lighter for the horizontal pieces. This is a traditional practice for 18th century furniture, to accentuate the vertical proportions of the piece. All the parts for 12 chairs were cut from these two boards. I should mention this was a long time ago, when you could still purchase nice Houduras mahogany.

As the client ordered 10 chairs, I made 12. The reason was that I could deliver the best 10 and keep the remaining pair for myself. The seats were standard slip seats, made with a maple frame and upholstered with horsehair stuffing. The client wanted hand made custom needlepoint coverings, so I found an elderly lady who agreed to do the needlepoint.

By sheer coincidence her name was Mrs. Edwards, and she was no relation to me at all. She was in her 90's but willing to make the seat coverings, a few at a time. She took longer to make the needlepoint than I did to make the chairs, but the client was understanding and patient.

Mrs. Edwards made a vow to complete the 10 needlepoint seats, each pattern different, with birds and flowers, before she passed away. As we waited for the final seats to be delivered, we wondered if she would complete her assignment. I must report, with great respect, that she passed away shortly after she finished the last panel.

I choose to cover the two seats on my chairs with damask.

Thank you, Mrs. Edwards.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Biedermeier Dining Table

One of the best decisions I ever made was to hire a professional photographer to record my work. A close friend of mine recommended Glenn Cormier, who was famous for his commercial interior work. Glenn would take a restaurant or home interior and light it perfectly. That meant that everything looked "natural" but all the lighting placement was intentional and artificial. He studied at Rochester Institute and learned about "Painting with Light," a special technique used by many photographers to put the light where it works, and use the shadows for dramatic effect.

I contacted Glenn and asked him about his schedule and prices. To say he was expensive is an understatement. He was also busy. That made it difficult, as I would usually finish a project the day before it was to be delivered, and he was not always available. So, in addition to my work schedule to complete a job, I had to project the timeline to include his possible openings for shooting the work.

As for the cost, I simply included it in the final costs for the job. Since most of the work I made was fairly expensive, it did not increase the final price much, and having a quality portfolio of work paid off in the end. My prospective clients would always be impressed when I showed them my folio, and I think it was as much for the quality of the photos as the work itself.

After years of working with Glenn, he asked me to make him a dining table. Finally, I had something to trade with him, to offset the costs of all these pictures he was taking. He told me about the size he wanted and the style and I set to work.

I had a quantity of French cherry veneer in stock. Both the French Walnut and Cherry species are quite different in appearance from the American varieties. The French Walnut has much more dramatic grain, and a wider range of color than American. The French Cherry has a more open grain and a lighter color than the American.

I used the basic form of my Butterfly Table, except the proportions were different. The Butterfly Table is a center table, so it is a Console table height: 32". Dining tables must be as close to 30" in height as possible, not more than 1/2" above or below for comfort. That meant the shape of the pedestal was modified for the lower height.

The top was also much larger: 54". On a circular table this size would seat 6 people comfortably. But I also wanted the top to be stable when used. To guarantee this, the footprint of the base would need to be 2/3 the diameter of the top. This would also allow space for the feet when seated at the table.

Finally, to insure a stable top, I engineered the following attachment, which would make it extremely stable when assembled, yet allow for the top to be easily removed when necessary. I took a 1/4" piece of steel, 12" x 12" and had a large nut welded to the center of it. This piece of steel was glued into the center core of the top itself. The top was made with veneer on top of 1" wood, the steel underneath, and 6/4 solid wood under that. It looked like a solid wood top in all respects but underneath there was a hexagon hole in the center of the table where the steel plate and nut was visible.

The pedestal was also made of solid wood, with cherry veneer. Through the center of the pedestal was a hole large enough for the threaded bolt to engage the nut. The top of the pedestal was cut into a octagon tenon, which exactly fit into the hexagon socket under the top.

To install the top you placed the top upside down on a blanket, located the pedestal into the hexagon socket and installed the bolt from the bottom, through the pedestal, into the nut. When tight, the top was absolutely rigid and stable, but could be easily removed by reversing the process.

Finally, I added a nice black veneer star in the center of the top, and some black trim as an accent to the cherry. This touch is common in Biedermeier design to add detail and contrast with the lighter veneers.

Glenn was very pleased with the result, and did not charge me for the photograph.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Emmonds and Archibald Part II



You may have realized by now that I rediscovered a method for veneering columns using traditional protein glues many years ago. It opened a chapter in my career where I found projects which included columns and I could turn those columns from solid wood and wrap them with any veneer I choose.

This was neat. Up until that time, it was not really possible to use a vacuum bag, unless you created a special bag application. You couldn't use synthetic glues or contact glue. Nothing worked easily and with a certain amount of guaranteed success. But using the liquid glue (Old Brown Glue) and wrapping with elastic straps allowed me to create any column perfectly and with 100% success.

In case you are interested in this method, you may visit my website and read the article on my Consulting page. I should mention I have several articles on my site and they continue into more detail than I wish to include here.

I was surprised and honored to receive Best of Show at the San Diego Design In Wood show for my Boston pier table, mentioned earlier in this blog. As I had sold it, I thought that I should make another, with some variations in the design. I knew Stuart Feld, at Hirschl and Adler Galleries in New York, and showed him a photo of my table. He was kind enough to compliment me on my work and supplied me with a 1960's black and white photo of a different table they had by the same makers.

This second Emmonds and Archibald had very similar features, including the black ovoid feet, but the mounts and detail were more refined. Also, the mahogany veneer that the Boston Museum of Fine Arts table was covered in was instead Brazilian Rosewood. Because the veneer was different, the black marble was changed to white marble.

Dalbergia Negra (Brazilian Rosewood) is listed on the CITIES endangered species list, and, since 1986, has been a controlled material. Fortunately, I have anticipated this and managed to collect some very nice rosewood prior to the restriction. Since 1986 I have continued to purchase this wood when it has become available, but only from certified dealers who can provide proper papers, like Patrick George, in Paris. For example, the rosewood veneer I used on my tilt top Louis-Philippe tables was harvested in 1952 and sold by George with full documentation.

Building a console table is relatively easy and profitable, assuming you can veneer columns. Essentially, you need 4 feet, a veneered plinth, columns, pilasters, antique mirror and frame, top apron frame and marble. Fast, elegant, practical and a necessary element of classical interior architecture. A perfect place to show flowers or sculpture, often situated in an entry with a second mirror directly above. These tables are called Console or Pier Tables, depending on the country.

I went to Paris and selected some wonderful gilt bronze mounts to show off the rosewood. Much of the time building this table was spent cutting mitres on the bronze molding which seems to cover every edge of the table. For the larger, decorative mounts, and the capitals and bases, I paid extra for chasing and mercury gilding. People who study French furniture appreciate the quality of the mounts, and look closely at the work involved in making them look like jewelry. You can purchase a bronze mount "brut" which is simply cast, and unfinished. Such a mount might cost less than $100. You can the select the type of gilding, which is either electroplate or mercury. That can add a cost ranging between $100 and $500. Then you can have a master use punches and small chisels to chase the detail further. This is the most skillful part of the job. Each element of the bronze is enhanced and refined with these tools so that the mount shines in the light. That can add as much as $1000.

On this table, I paid for all of that work, and it made this project into a masterpiece, in my opinion. However, it did not influence the judges at the next Design In Wood show, where this table received a second place! I asked the judge after the show about how he could give me a Best of Show earlier on a table which was not nearly as nice as this entry. He replied: "I want you to do something different. I already saw this table last year."

Kind of like the Shakers, who would approach a clockmaker, gaining a reputation for his excellent work, and tell him that it is time he learns how to make bricks. You can never master humility.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Bonheur du Jour



I love the Empire style of furniture. It is strong and clean in line, classic in ornament, rich in wood and was popular all over the world for nearly the entire 19th century, in one form or another. There is one problem: it doesn't live well with other more delicate periods of style. It fights with all the French Louis, doesn't live happily with lesser woods (like oak) and cannot stand small rooms with no architectural character to feed off of.

Early on in my collecting, I resolved to purchase a nice early secretaire abattant, in mahogany with black marble top. I searched for years, always finding some reason to not purchase each one, since it had some flaw or weakness (in my opinion). There was a dealer I knew who loved chinese porcelain and hated Empire furniture. As it happens, he had a great secretaire abattant which he considered useful strictly as a pedestal to hold his prize porcelain bowl. The bowl was easily as large as the entire top of the cabinet, and it sat there untouched year after year.

He refused to sell the cabinet as long as he had that bowl.

One visit, I noticed with glee that the bowl was gone! I gingerly asked about the secretaire and he said he would sell it for $600, but that it was not French, but German. That day was the last day I could pay my property tax, and instead of paying my tax on time (and instead of consulting my wife, which is worse) I took the tax money and bought the cabinet.

As he was helping me load it into the truck, I was lifting the top and he was lifting the base, and he said with a surprise, "Hey, there are paper labels under the base!" I asked what they said, and he replied, "Don't know, they are in French."

As I enjoyed living with this secretaire, the desire to do similar work grew in my mind. "What if I could do work as nice as that?" I thought. Perhaps then I could call myself an ebeniste, I reasoned.

Years later, at another dealer's shop, I stumbled upon a beat up French Empire Bonheur du Jour, which I purchased for a lot more money than it was worth. When I got it back to the shop and studied it, I concluded it would be easier to copy it than to actually restore it. That started the journey of fulfillment which led me to call myself an ebeniste.

I have already discussed making veneered columns so this part of the problem was solved. I also had purchased some fantastic plum pudding figure Cuban mahogany from New York 15 years earlier that I knew would be perfect. All I had to do was purchase the bronze mounts from Paris and measure and copy the original which was sitting on my bench.

Everything went much better than I could have expected. There were problems to solve, lessons to learn and always careful attention to detail, and having the original to study got me through. However, when I put it together it looked different, and I spent days looking at the copy and the original from every angle possible to discover what was different.

Finally I realized the problem. The square back posts on the base have no taper to their sides, but the two front turned columns have a slight taper. I had mounted the turned columns vertical, and when you looked at the base from straight on there was a difference with the original. The original had the tapered columns moved a few millimeters out to produce an exterior edge parallel with the back posts. This created an effect in perspective like at the Parthenon where the columns are not exactly vertical. I had been looking at the desk up on the bench at eye level. When you viewed it on the floor, where it was used, and stood in front and above it, the turnings looked perfect!

I immediately moved the turnings out and it solved the problem.

This piece is in my collection and is one of my favorite pieces. It was pictured on the back cover of Fine Woodworking (Issue #173) from December 2004. I wrote a Master Class article with it to instruct readers on how to veneer columns using protein glue. The only response I got from a reader was to ask about where I got the mounts, and did I have plans available?

Bonheur du Jour is translated as "Good time of the day". I must say that this piece does not fight with others, and has lived in my home in peace and quiet for years.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

RockeTable
































I am not able to design contemporary furniture. No matter how hard I try to be original, as soon as my pencil hits the paper centuries of furniture design cloud my vision. That is why all the work I have produced is historical. I guess you could say I was into historical revivalism in the late 20th century.

I have also lived in Paris and travelled around Europe on many different trips, all expensed as "business". Sometimes I travel with my wife, but usually I travel alone. She likes the country; I like the city. So, even when we travel together, the schedule of activities is the subject of often heated discussion.

A few years ago, to celebrate our anniversary (don't ask me which one...), I offered to take a trip with her that was "not business". That meant I was not to visit museums, dealers, suppliers, antique shops, and would be forced to lavish all my attention on her needs. I know she appreciates what a sacrifice this was for me.

To make it interesting, we purchased Eurorail passes and I told her that all our gear must fit into one backpack, which I would carry. That would leave her free to enjoy the trip, and carry the water bottle that she never is without. No plans, no route determined, no reservations, no limitations at all. If we liked the area, we would stay days, if not we moved on down the road.

Well, we LOVED Florence, so we stayed. Found a nice place just in the center and enjoyed the Botero exhibit which was on the plaza at the Uffizi Museum. (I admit, she enjoys museums as much or more than I do.) How we talked our way into the museum for free ahead of a 2 hour wait line is another story.

While having the most amazing lasagna in the world at ZaZa's one evening, I couldn't help thinking about my Quilt Tilt table. While my lovely wife was talking to me about something (I forget) I was thinking about how I had to make two tables to show both surfaces of the marquetry design. Would it be possible for me to make a table which had two surfaces? A table which would show both tops in a new and creative way? What about pivoting the top on the corners so it could spin along a horizontal axis? What about spinning it at the same time along a vertical axis? How would that work?

By dessert, I had rejoined my wife's conversation with me and kept secret the new design I had worked out in my head. A quick sketch on a scrap of paper preserved the idea for me to develop when I returned after the trip.

Thus I created the RockeTable. Cut out of sawn veneer (purpleheart) and pewter, using the same quilt design as before, I engineered a mechanical system out of aluminum and covered it with more purpleheart. This system provided arms which rotate along a vertical axis, like a lazy Susan system. The top is fixed at two corners on pivots which allow it to rotate 360 degrees along a horizontal axis, so either side could be on top.

If you look at the four photos, you can see the different aspects of this table when it is set up in each mode. After over 40 years of working on period furniture, this is the first "original" design I have produced. It is not for sale.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Quilt Tilt Table


One day I was looking through a magazine and saw an add for a hotel in Hawaii. The graphic used in the ad was an antique Hawaiian quilt. I was fascinated by the design, and the more I looked at it, the more creatures appeared.

There were frogs, dragons, bats, pineapples, and other mysteries contained in the repetitive pattern. In addition, the balance between the design and the "negative" space of the background was almost a perfect 50/50. This meant that it would be a perfect design for boulle cutting in two materials, since the "premier partie" and the "contre partie" would be relatively equal.

The other aspect of the design was that it was made with scissors and sewing, so that the pattern was slightly irregular and primitive in origin. I thought it would be interesting to execute that design with wood, so I copied it and went to work.

In selecting the two woods for this project, I wanted to make it as challenging as possible, so I could have some fun. I selected a walnut burl and padauk. The burl was difficult to control, as it was fragile and would expand in the glue, testing my speed at putting the picture together on the assembly board. The padauk had a very strong straight grain and would easily break if poorly handled.

More importantly, the matching of the padauk would provide a certain depth of field or perspective in the final picture, as the linear grain would create a tunnel effect. Of course, the bright red of the padauk would not last long, and over time it would fade to almost the same color as the walnut. I thought that would also add a certain charm to the picture, and it did.

As you will note, making the top was fairly efficient. The top is made up of 4 identical squares and each is made up of 2 woods. All I had to do was make one packet with 4 layers of burl walnut and 4 layers of padauk. Using the chevalet I cut all the design out with a 2/0 blade and I got 8 times the surface area. Thus 1 square foot of packet makes 8 square feet of design.

I glued the two assembled marquetry tops to a maple top and turned some Federal tripod bases. I really did not spend much time working on the bases, as I just wanted to use the tables around the house as occasional tables and, when not in use, they would rest upright in the corners of the room. For contrast, I used solid padauk for the frames of the tops. I gave the bases a dark finish to make them appear older than they were. The maple had a wonderful figure which the stain made stand out.

I think when you look at the two tops you will see images from the Hawaiian tribes, transferred from fabric to wood.