Coopers Versus Joyners

In this English folk-song (1681) coopers and joyners are compared and contrasted. Apparently, the cooper is 'the man,' as well as 'the white boy'. Some of the lyrics could be oddly contemporary! But as the song progresses, the religious and political overtones of the time grow and become more humorous. I definitely need to check into the background. I wonder if this has anything to do with Stephen Colledge, alias: The Protestant Joyner...

Cooper Joyner

Eliav Digs Dutch Designers

One day, whilst pretending to work with my friend and esteemed colleague Hoffy (she's the one i tricked into taking me to get the lumber for my Roubo), i stumbled upon this guy Juan's blog post in which he describes his 1/2 scale build of Rietveld's classic Red and Blue Chair for his son Hugo. That was it. Hoffy and i knew we had to make one for either the kid on the way (Oria, a beautiful baby girl, now two months old), or her son Eliav (he's two and gorgeous). It seemed logical that Eliav should be compensated for the traumatic experience awaiting him, (and it will be a while before Oria can sit!) so the chair was scaled to 2/3 size. Despite its appearance, the chair is rumoured to be quite comfortable, but because it tilts back, i did not expect Eliav to want to sit in it for longer than it took to take a photo to appease his mother and myself. But apparently, if Hoffy is to be believed, he loves his little chair! As they might say in their family, der Apfel fellt nicht gerne weit vom Baume.

Below is a CGI animation of the chair:

Gerrit Rietveld chair from Max Philip on Vimeo.

This chair had huge implications for design, and we have discussed the unique Dutch conception of space in the context of football (link).

For Anthony C. Romeo's interesting article on Rietveld's chair and the unification of motion and rest, click here. It's a great, short read. Andries van Onck's site has a very in-depth analysis of Rietveld's chair, including some fascinating sections about the various kabbalistic sephirot; it will blow your mind.

On a personal level, i definitely learnt a lot more about the ideas of De Stijl from building the piece. When all the components were laid out on the floor, it seemed hard to believe that they would eventually constitute a chair (though i must confess, i did have some doubts!). It seemed so...abstract! I wasn't so struck by the design until i started making the piece. Then, and i apologise for the vagueness, i just seemed to fall into the piece; it had some hypnotic effect; the more i looked at it and interacted with it, the more entranced i was. I know that sounds totally fruity, but it's true. I also came away with an appreciation for just how strong the joints are. There--that was a more rational, concrete comment. It was like creating a 3D Mondrian painting. The symmetry of the piece always amazed me; the way the overhang on every intersecting point was the same, and how the piece seemed so mathematically...uniform (I'm easily impressed in maths, since i have little to no understanding of it). Some concepts cannot be conveyed with words, and there is an understanding that you cannot come by through books. Indeed, Rietveld himself regarded his furniture design as experimentation with ideas, as studies. David Pye wrote about this, and for a frequent blog on this topic, Doug Stowe's blog (Wisdom of the Hands) is a must-read. Those interested in the technical execution of the piece can view the building process on this little slideshow:

Suck it Up or _____ it Up

A very long time ago, i mentioned that Rousseau said something like 'Put a young man in a workshop, his hands will work to the benefit of his brain, and he will become a philosopher while thinking himself only a craftsman.' It's something i think about at least weekly. Now, i just want to warn anyone reading this that this is more of a personal post. Anyway, i learnt a valuable lesson through my woodworking that i really hope will translate into my other work habits; my progress on the doctorate. I have noticed that these habits are one in the same, as i am the same person when i do both. Simple enough. The doctorate, or at least writing the doctorate has been a real challenge. I keep wanting to recheck my notes, to downplay the risks i am taking in some of the ideas i set forth. The well-known expression in the woodworking world 'measure twice, cut once' was something i seemed (i am writing in past tense because i hope to leave this behind) to take to the extreme. And i noticed i had the same issue of avoidance or fear with my woodworking. I have wanted to build for myself a proper workbench at which i could really perfect my craft. One's work can only turn out so well when one must assume contorted positions on the floor or kitchen counter in order to stabilise workpieces. So i obviously bought the Schwarz's book on workbenches and resolved to make myself the 18th century French workbench, known by the name of its designer, Roubo (pictured).Of course, i went over and over and over the book, debated on the lumber to order, the dimensions, etc. It took a lot of energy. Finally i took the plunge and ordered the wood. I was very happy!

Then the wood had to acclimate to my house and i flew to the States to visit my family. When i returned, i was struck with fear. Oh, crap. There's a giant pile of wood in my house. How am i going to dimension all the lumber for the top with only hand tools and no workbench?! What if i mess this up? It's going to be so much money and time wasted and i will be stuck with all this messed up lumber! So i let it sit for a while. And then a little more. Wow--the lumber is for sure acclimated to my house now! Last week, i decided to just go for it. The situation was beginning to look a bit ridiculous. I decided to glue up the top to the best of my limited abilities, and i would just deal with gaps, should they form. There's always epoxy. I took the plunge and glued up the top. To those of you reading who don't know about woodworking, glue-ups are the most stressful aspect of projects. But, i had forced myself the point of just not caring anymore. F-it. How bad can it turn out? I just want the wood off my floor! So i glued it up--in sections, over a few days, and i am pleased (and still surprised) to say that it turned out pretty ok. It's not perfect, but it wasn't as bad as i feared, and now i am well on my way to my goal, and i feel emboldened. I think the same attitude can be put towards academics. I am definitely at the point where i am saying F-it. How bad can it turn out? But i think there's a lesson here. Either suck it up, or you will f- it up. In other words, your best effort may fall short of perfection (God forbid!), but it will not be as bad as being stuck with loads of lumber on your floor or loads of notes and unfinished chapter drafts. As you can see, my bench top needs some work, but at least i have something to work on:

Rietveld: Zigzagstoel

Here is a great clip of a guy building Rietveld's famous zig-zag stoel (chair):

Columbus Woodworking Show--Part 2

Part of the reason cutting dovetails with Chuck was a great experience is because he removes all the neurotic crap that makes obsessive people crazy. Dividing your board in half and then figuring out the amount of tails and then half pins, blah blah blah, ad absurdum. And yet, for all the obsessing, the first time i tried to cut dovetails, i forgot some pretty simple steps, such as labelling the tails and pins (and not doing things when overtired and under-nourished). Which is how i ended up with the photo to the left. The omission of this crucial step also meant that i kept on trimming the joints until they fit, but since i didn't know pins from tails and inside from outside, a very snug fitting pair of joints ended up looking like this. Mortifying.

So, at the end of the woodworking shows, i accosted Chuck (who was too much of a gentleman to refuse me and even blogged a very gracious version of my stalking him, which you can read here), who gave me a mini-tutorial of how to cut dovetails by hand. Chuck's method took the headache out of the whole process. No math, no formulas. We eyeballed everything and just got on with it. Chuck's a great teacher in that he somehow (i am still trying to figure it out!) enables his student to accomplish the goal without hovering too much or doing the work for him/her.

Anyway, i think i mentioned before, we were running to get these dovetails done, so they're a bit split, but nonetheless i wanted to show off my infinitely better set of Bender-pins-first-dovetails that i made Chuck autograph (i told you i stalked him!) with the wenge pen that my mother turned. And Uri caught some of the magic on film, including his commentary.

Columbus Woodworking Show--Part 1

This past Sunday, my brother, mother, and i drove from Cleveland to Columbus for the Woodworking Show. I thought they were kidding when they said they would come (can you tell i'm used to being mocked for my middle-aged-man hobby?), but they happily accompanied me. Well, maybe not happily. I printed up a 'bring your spouse for free coupon' and made my brother Uri go as my husband. He was most unhappy with this, but he played along. I think they printed 'spouse' because it would have been a bit much to print 'bring your family member who would really rather not attend a woodworking show but is going to put a cap on your spending' or something to that effect. The woman taking tickets gave us a knowing wink as Uri squirmed and gave me a resentful look. And then...we were in! It was magnificent. And a bit overwhelming. It was in a sense too big. But once you narrow it down to stuff you want to see, it becomes more manageable. Not only did i get to see Lie Nielsen tools in person, but as my friend Dave Richards suggested, i got to use them (i thought he was teasing me)! It was phenomenal.

The highlight of the show for me was meeting my Lumberjocks buddy Chuck Bender. I'm aware how dodgy it sounds that i talk about how woodworkers are the nicest people and that i have made many friends online. Though my mother and brother were totally bitten with the woodworking bug (see video below) and had the best time turning pens, they still were quite weirded out when i mentioned 'meeting my friend from the internet'. This all dissipated when they met Chuck of course, and i told him that he proved the claim i always make about woodworkers being the nicest people ever. Chuck understood the concerns though and pointed out the difference between meeting internet friends wisely and foolishly: 'Well, we are meeting in a public place. It's not like I'm telling you to meet me in an alley where i will be waiting with a bludgeon and a garbage bag.' Hmm... good point.

Some Chinese Woodworking

The woodworking community buzzes about Japanese woodworking (though not enough!), but what about Chinese woodworking? It's hard to find info, but this is close. In this Nova programme, Bashar Altabba, an an engineer from Boston, and Marcus Brandt, a timber framer from Pennsylvania, travel to China to help Professor Tang reconstruct the Rainbow Bridge, built in the Song dynasty. All they have to go on in a 900 year old painting. I feel compelled to warn you that there is a frustrating bit at the end. Brandt extolls the workmanship and joinery of the Chinese in the last 5 seconds of the programme, but you only see it for a minute, and of course you never see that part of the construction! Another side-point: Professor Tang explains that the aesthetic of the reverse curve is attractive because it resembles the body of a woman. I couldn't help but wonder how the group dynamics would have been effected by having women on the team...and I'll leave it at that.

Boulle Exhibit

Finally! Cabinetry is being recognised as a visual art with the exhibition celebrating the work of Andre Charles Boulle. The exhibit focuses on his marquetry, and though it's in Frankfurt, details of the exhibit can be seen here. It's a pretty big deal for woodworkers and art aficionados alike. According to the Art Newspaper, this exhibit will be 'one of the major cultural and artistic events of the moment.'

Woodworking & Wittgenstein

Since i am a painfully slow reader, my eyes are shot, and it's much safer (and less weird looking) than reading whilst walking, i've been listening to lectures or readings on my iPod. My most recent find, Philosophy Bites, is a type of Q & A between the show's hosts and leading academics. It's a great intro for those of us whose knowledge of philosophy stems from a limited understanding of the Monty Python sketch below.

Because language is pretty fundamental to my own work, i opted for the discussion on Wittgenstein's conception of philosophy. Basically, according to Wittgenstein, words not only signify objects, but can also function as describing an activity. In the beginning of the Investigations, Wittgenstein's Builders illustrate the potential confusion that arises from the ability of a singular word to perform different functions. Wittgenstein imagines the builder saying to his assistant, 'slab.' This can mean several things: the name of the piece of concrete he wants, the request to bring the slab to his master, or even a suggestion that there are no more slabs left, and that the assistant must go and get them.

Listening to this segment (on my way to the hardware store), i actually laughed out loud. Wittgenstein's treatment of language, reminded me of the oft-repeated frustrations about the limits of the (modern) Hebrew language, invariably sparked off by my encounters with the inarticulate, macho world of hardware stores and lumberyards in Talpiot's industrial area. The fact that he gives the example of builders was hilarious to me.

If you walk into a hardware store here in Israel, and you ask for a זווית, which means 'angle', you could be looking for anything from a try-square to an elbow pipe. Here is an example of the range of tools you get when you search for זווית. Also, in English, clamps are specified. We have bar clamps, pipe clamps, band clamps, angle clamps, parallel clamps, C clamps, hand clamps, etc. I can articulate which type of clamp i want quickly and precisely to the person at the shop. Not in Hebrew. We have one word. מלחציים. That's it. It's translated as 'vice', but i think the root is לחץ, which means pressure. This explains why the average volume in the hardware store is screaming level, and the most important communication is achieved through wild gesticulation. I have learnt not to buy clamps here. The last time i attempted to do so, after failing to communicate 'bar clamp', i had to make do with saying 'no...no--something similar...definitely not' whilst the man helping me held up different types of clamps, none of which was a bar clamp. Maybe since we don't have a word for it, we can't stock it in shops?

Monty Python seem to enjoy applying philosophy to football, as in this sketch, and another philosophy refresher from them is to be found here.

For TK--The Table As Promised

Here is the process of the dining-room table build. If i ever get an adequate workspace, i might consider building projects that are bigger than me (there's nothing like getting pinned by the wrist under the weight of your own project at 3 am and not wanting to wake anyone to make that clear--as well as highlight the foolishness of woodworking past certain hours). Until then, there is no way that is happening! My room mate at the time was kind enough to take me to the lumberyard and load up the parts, drive me back home, and unload them. Then i was on my own. The tall planks were to be laminated to form the tabletop. Just an aside: it is quite hellish to walk into a hardware store as a woman in the Middle East, and Israel is no exception. I will not go into detail (this time), but basically, you're probably better off bringing a guy friend, even if he wouldn't know a screwdriver from a hammer. So, though i didn't ask for this 'service' (and after convincing the guy at the lumberyard--who was rolling his eyes at me and huffing in annoyance--that i did in fact wish to laminate the top myself), he took it upon himself to create tongue and groove joints along the edges of the boards. Cheers. Klootzak. This made it more annoying to glue up and limited my choice of grain direction. Luckily, by the time i got around to that part of the project, my mother was there and she helped me. We did the job as best we could with four clamps. Then, laying the table across the kitchen counter and the mustard yellow antique washing machine, we flattened (or tried to, rather. An uneven surface is just part of the charm of a handmade piece. Right?) the top with my late #5 jack plane. As for the legs, i took Matt Vanderlist's advice and made the base a trestle table. Sometimes, when they went away for extended periods of time, my room mates feared i would turn their bedrooms into a workshop. I hadn't thought of it, but it turned out to be a great idea! The bed made a perfect stand for the table top, as well!

Anyway, i have since moved house (or flat, rather) and i had to finish quite hastily. So, even after harassing Matt and Kari about tusk tenons and God knows what else, i ended up making regular wedge tenons. It was more like jamming some skinny wood bits into gaping crappy mortises whilst holding the supporting beam of the table up with my leg, with glue dripping everywhere. In short, it was masterfully executed, looks amazing, and was a pleasure to do.

So here's the final (i'm mortified, but i posted it for you, TK, just remember that!!) result, and more process-photos are at the bottom of the page.

William Holman Hunt: The Shadow of Death

The Shadow of Death (1871) William Holman Hunt

This painting is cooler than Millais's of twenty years earlier, in my opinion. It, too, caused an uproar for its realism, but unlike Millais's work, William Holman Hunt actually depicts Jesus as a carpenter who

has been hard at work all the day, and the setting sun tells Him the hour for cessation from toil has arrived, that his day's labour is over. He has just risen from the plank on which He has been working, and is portrayed as throwing up His arms to realise that pleasant sensation of repose and relaxation . . . and in perfect harmony with this physical act, so natural and grateful to every one, the Divine Labourer pours forth His soul in fervent gratitude to His Father that the welcome hour of rest has come. {WHH's pamphlet on the painting}

According to the ODNB, the painting

was begun in Jerusalem in April 1870. The figures of Christ and the Virgin were painted out of doors, the models posing on the roof of Hunt's house in the Muslim quarter. Two movable huts were constructed in an attempt to regulate the light, since the artist was determined to capture faithfully the impression of the setting afternoon sun. This was a heroic but virtually impossible task on such a large canvas and involved Hunt in continual reworking of both versions. They were completed after his return to London in July 1872, and in March 1873 were sold to Agnews for 10,000 guineas. The large canvas, which was on view at their Bond Street gallery from December 1873 to August 1874, was described that May in an American periodical as 'probably the most talked-about painting in the world' ('Holman Hunt and his "Shadow of death"', 657). {ODNB}

For the entire ODNB entry on William Holman Hunt, click here.

William Holman Hunt describes his painting as follows:

Scripturally, the subject is "the Shadow of Death," — the bearing of the first burden of the Curse of Adam. Morally, it is this also: the bestowing of Life in trust for future universal good, rather than for immediate personal joy. Surely there are enough of every class who have felt the burdensomness of toil, the relief at his cessation; and also enough of those who have battled against the temptation to seek this world's glory at the expense of their peace with the silent Father, and who may be encouraged to persevere. [Mr. Holman Hunt's Picture, "The Shadow of Death" (London: Thomas Agnew: [1873]), p. 2.]

Ruskin on the Painting

Among the men I know, or have known, he is the One (literal) Christian, of intellectual power. I have known many Christians-many men of capacity: only Hunt who is both, and who is sincerely endeavouring to represent to our eyes the things which the eyes were blessed which saw. (1874)

Actually, according to the ODNB,

The depiction of the Saviour and Virgin in the interior of a carpenter's workshop was influenced by Ruskin, who in the third volume of Modern Painters (1856) had called for a sacred art 'representing events historically recorded, with solemn effort at a sincere and unartificial conception' (Works, 5.85). Hunt's reading of Ernest Renan'sVie de Jesus (1863) in 1869 encouraged him to depict the Saviour as a working man, an image that he was well aware would appeal to a wide audience. Indeed, the engraving published in 1878 was Agnews' most widely circulated nineteenth-century print. But by imbuing his picture with typological symbolism Hunt wanted to convey to his audience the spiritual as well as archaeological aspects of his subject.

Painting in Palestine

The archaeological element of his painting had compelled William Holman Hunt to move to Jerusalem, where today his house still stands at 64 Havevi'im St., in the centre of Jerusalem. For photos, click here. From this vantage point,

The course of events seem so much more comprehensible-the journeys of the Saviour, in the last days of his ministration, from Bethany to Jerusalem to the Temple around the Mount of Olives ... seem so real as to appear like an event of the day. (Pre-Raphaelite Friendship, 45)

For more on Holman hunt's travels in the Middle East, click here.

There were other interesting developments during WHH's stay in Jerusalem. He came into contact with a Canadian named Henry Wentworth Monk. Monk had been sent to London at the age of seven by his parents. After witnessing the conditions the Jews endured there, and hearing a speech by Lord Asheley (7th Earl of Shaftesbury) he concluded that the only way to alleviate their plight was to return Jews to their homeland; Palestine. Again, Ruskin seems to be everyone's sugardaddy: Monk wrote a commentary on Revelations that WHH got Ruskin to fund.

The Talmud

Just as William Holman Hunt's quest for realism led him to Palestine, it also caused him to turn to the Talmud. Despite the

the vagueness of the description in the Talmud: of the form in which the scarlet was placed on the head I feel it to be very much left to myself. So I merely placed it round about the horns — to suggest the crown of thorns.

Properly speaking, the red headband in The Shadow of Death provides a type of the Crown of Thorns, while in a somewhat looser manner it recapitulates the scarlet wool born by the representative of Israel's sins, fulfilling that type in part. Of course, both types are only completed by the Crown of Thorns itself. This device recapitulates Hunt's earlier attempt at creating a prefigurative image of the Passion in The Scapegoat, for he now attempts such symbolism in a subject more accessible to his audience. {Replete with Meaning: William Holman-Hunt and Typological Symbolism, by George P. Landow, on the Victorian Web, click here}

Woodworking Tools as Symbolism

You'll probably never look at your woodworking tools the same way again. According to the pamphlet,

The shadow of the wearied Lord falling on the rack which holds the carpenter's tools, with the mandrel placed vertically in the centre, at once literally realises the form of a cross, and the hands falling thereon suggest the idea of a figure nailed thereupon, and thus the particular death Our Lord would die.

Furthermore, the tools become types of those used to torture Christ, while the reeds standing in the corner of the shop similarly prefigure the mock scepter thrust upon him during his torments. Standing in a plank which Christ has been cutting, a saw casts a shadow upon the wall that clearly provides a prefiguration of the spear that pierced his side.

Christ's girded loins also suggest the costume of the Crucifixion, while the plumb-bob dangling from the rack of tools suggests Christ's heart, because of its shape and placement within the shadow. {Landow, Victorian Web. Read the rest of it--it's awesome--click here}

Hunt's significance as one of the three original founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and the only one to have remained true to its original principles, was acknowledged on 19 July 1879, when Vanity Fair published a caricature of him entitled The Pre-Raphaelite of the World. The way in which many of his major paintings focus on highly dramatic situations, fusing truth to nature with a serious moral message, struck such a chord with the Victorians that his influence during his lifetime can be compared to that of Thomas Carlyle, Ruskin, and Charles Dickens. {ODNB}

Jesus the Gingy 'Jew Boy' Joiner

Christ in the House of His Parents--John Everett Millais (1829-1896)

This painting, or rather the harsh criticism it received, was the catalyst for Ruskin's relationship with John Everett Millais, and pitted him against the Royal Society (people like Dickens who really liked Joshua Reynolds). Click here for his letter to The Times which established the relationship between Ruskin and the Pre-Raphaelites in the Victorian consciousness. 

Most woodworkers would probably admire the way Millais painted the shavings on the floor of Joseph's shop (with nary a handplane in sight...). In fact, Dickens did concede that 'it is particularly gratifying to observe that such objects as the shavings which are strewn on the carpenter’s floor are admirably painted.' However, Dickens did go on to make futher comments, which, while hilarious at times were not particularly generous to Millais. For the more complete text of his critique, click here.

Unfortunately, not all critics have an interest in woodworking, and many were certainly not impressed with the realism of Millais's carpentry shop:

But this painful display of anatomical knowledge, and studious vulgarity of portraying the youthful Saviour as a red-headed Jew boy, and the sublime personage of the virgin a sore-heeled, ugly, every-day sempstress, will in no way tend to the consummation so devoutly to be wished'--click here for the rest

To add insult to injury, the model for the virgin, or 'sore-heeled, ugly, everyday sempstress' was actually Millais's mother! Oh no he didn't!

Side note (or endnote, rather): After receiving a comment on previous post that an appended comic depicting Jesus as a carpenter may have been offensive to Christian readers (so far, no complaints) i went off in search of paintings which portrayed Jesus as a woodworker. This is the first instalment of some rather interesting results. 

A Eugoogoly for Jack--On the Merits of a Clean/Organised Workspace

This #5 Stanley Bailey Jack plane managed to make it from 1918 until 2009. It had countless users before it was shipped from Connecticut to Cleveland and made the trans-Atlantic journey to Israel a few years ago. Ironically, i had been thinking, 'i should really figure out a storage solution for these planes instead of having them lay about.'  It doesn't even matter what i was reaching for, does it? The bottom line is that i think i have more junk in the trunk than i realised and my ba-donka-donk knocked the poor plane over. I didn't expect to see the thing properly broken in half! Neither did Walt, who sold me my beloved #5--my first plane (my new Stanley block plane doesn't count), and who was the first one i told. Sorry if i was  bit hysterical, Walt. These pics are for you!  Of course, Walt was my saviour and found me a #5 from 1908, as well as a #7! For those of you who don't know Walt, click here. He finds the best stuff and he doesn't mind Newbies barraging him with questions (if he does, he is very polite and helpful). 

Anyway, lesson learnt. I guess. Damn! If only i had used that stupid Organising From the Inside Out book! But i can't find it...

Shocking Shaker (pegboard) Organisational Skills

My old pine bed has been taking up space in my flat ever since i decided to save it in order 'to make something with the material'. I finally settled on putting it to use in order to get the place organised. So i started with a small part to organise some tools. The holes were already in the wall, so it was a matter of sizing and aligning the holes to the wall. It was particularly exciting, because i got much use out of my Ryoba saw.  It's basically a Japanese 2-in-1 saw. There is no spine, so the depth of cut is not limited, and they are very flexible and can be used for flush-cutting. They work on the pull and make fantastically fine cuts. Anyway, the idea for that little project was obviously inspired by Chris Schwarz's workshop (i am sure this is a common practise--though i didn't put mine over a window--but my exposure was through Schwarz).   

I still had many pieces left, and decided to do a modern version of a Shaker Pegboard, pictured at right. Instead of wooden dowels, i used some pegs from Ikea.  Now my fashionable drug bag has a place of its very own! Actually, i could probably fill that thing up with all the drug bags my father has given to me over the years...

If you look at the photo of the Shaker pegboard, you may notice that there is a chair hanging from the rail (you'll have to ask the people at Fine Woodworking about the clock). Anyway, the Shaker practicality has been an inspiration to people dwelling in small spaces, and featured in Apartment Therapy last month--they came up with some pretty cool design ideas. I live alone and having 8 folding chairs gets in my way when i weekly indulge in my stereotypical Dutch practise of scrubbing the floor. 

So, taking a leaf out of the Shakers' book, i decided that the best way to get the chairs out of my way was to hang them up. To the left is a shot of four chairs hanging by the front door. There is an additional rack that holds two, elsewhere. 

 Not being sure of the stability 

of the metal brackets under the weight of the chairs, nor of the length of the brackets to prevent the chairs from slipping off, i required a fairly simple solution from the hardware store--these mini brackets with cute little nuts and bolts. Now i don't have to worry about a chair slipping and clunking someone in the head!

One final thing--and perhaps an appeal to anyone out there who can explain this mystery to me: Whenever drilling into a wall, i am always super-cautious to avoid electrical paths. So, you can imagine my shock (pardon the expression) when after placing all my dibbels to anchor the screws, and upon completion of mounting the board to the wall, i received a tingling sensation from touching one of the metal brackets! First i thought i had a weird nerve thing going on so i touched it again (brilliant, i know), and, being assured it was not my imagination as indicated by both the intense pain in my left arm and my tester, i decided to remove the screw attached to that bracket. As it became unscrewed, it stopped conducting electricity, but i felt more comfortable taking it out. I still don't get what happened, though. Maybe the screw went deeper than the dibbel and hit the electric supply?

 

 

John Ruskin--the Preferred Critic of Woodworkers Since 1819

It is hard to overstate John Ruskin's impact on art, and the more i read about him, the more i am convinced that this post will not do justice to the man who, according to Charlotte Bronte, taught an entire generation how to see. His proteges included John Everett Millais, William Holman Hunt, Oscar Wilde, and William Morris. His writings on political economy were also not bad. Cecil Rhodes and Tolstoy were fans. Gandhi had something of a conversion experience whilst reading Ruskin's Unto This Last on a train from Johannesburg to Durban. According to a survey of the first Parliament in which Labour managed to get seats, that very book had more of an impact on the Labour Party members than Das Kapital. 

Ruskin aspired to write like Richard Hooker and George Herbert. Volume II of his Modern Painters (1846) is consciously styled after Hooker's Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Polity. Ruskin invokes Hooker for his conception of moderation as beauty: 

He also seems to draw heavily on Hooker in his discussion of unity amid variety, or what Hooker would call 'harmonious dissimilitude', and in his discussion of the delight of creating, Ruskin also borrows from Book V of Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Polity. For an awesome article about Anglicanism and art, click here. 

Ruskin's influence is as durable as it is expansive; he's  a particular favourite amongst woodworkers in our time. One of my favourite blogs, Chris Hall's 'The Carpentry Way', which is about eastern and western woodworking, refers to Ruskin numerous times in his series 'The Master Builder Tradition-What Happened?'. Evan Adams is quite forthcoming about Ruskin quotes being one of the main features of his fantastic blog, and Brad at treefrogfurniture explains the evolution of Dutch Arts and Crafts in the United States! By and large, it seems that Ruskin's The Seven Lamps of Architecture (1849),which you can read here, is the most popular amongst woodworkers.

The Seven Lamps of Architecture was published in May 1849, the first of Ruskin's works to carry his name, and the first to be illustrated, with fourteen plates drawn and etched by him. A reference in the preface to the depredations of 'the Restorer, or Revolutionist' made Ruskin's position clear. He wished to protect what survived, and draw from it certain principles which would influence the direction of the Gothic revival, notably towards the use of Gothic in secular buildings. His purpose was both to secularize and make protestant the movement, drawing it away from the Roman Catholic influence of Augustus Welby Pugin. His intervention was theoretical rather than practical: the 'lamps' of architecture were moral categories-sacrifice, truth, power, beauty, life, memory, and obedience. Like the types of typical beauty in Modern Painters, volume 2, they are abstract notions in themselves, but for Ruskin were manifested in particular Gothic buildings in Italy and northern France. (ODNB)

Whilst in Oxford, he had been acquainted with many giants of the literary and artistic scene:

Ruskin recruited Wilde into a group of social activists trying to build a road, and his anger at social cruelty found fallow soil in the boy from the famine-writers' house. Pater and Ruskin shaped Wilde's thought and its expression: they did not originate it. Initially he brought their ideas and his glosses into the market place in lectures on aesthetics in the UK and the USA. Thereafter he embedded them, begirt in his own wit and charm, in fictions such as The Happy Prince and other Tales and The Picture of Dorian Gray. (ODNB Wilde entry)

Ruskin was also friendly with Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who shared Ruskin's love of sketching (and definitely exceeded Ruskin's love of little girls)  and wished to illustrate his own works, such as The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Dodgson had already taken a step back from his work by publishing under the pseudonym 'Lewis Carroll'. Ruskin informed Dodgson that his talents as an artist were 'severely limited.' Dogdson took Ruskin's criticisms quite well, and relinquished even more artistic involvment in his work, hiring professionals to illustrate his books. Nonetheless, Dodgson continued to enjoy sketching and socialised with many artists who were also amongst Ruskin's circle of friends, such as Arthur Hughes, William Holman Hunt, J. E. Millais, Alexander Munro, V. Princep, D. G. Rossetti, J. Sant, C. A. Swinburne, Mrs E. M. Ward, and G. F. Watts.

Ruskin is probably most famous for his relationship with the Pre-Raphaelites, mainly Millais, through their mutual friend, the poet Coventry Patmore. Ruskin defended Millais and the Pre-Raphalites' style against the aesthetic orthodoxy established by dudes like Sir Joshua Reynolds and The Royal Academy, enabling mainstream acceptance of the artistic movement. Hopefully we'll come back to that. 

In Millais, Ruskin saw a successor to Turner, and due to the age difference, Ruskin was more like his patron and mentor. You'd think that it was a relationship that Ruskin would kick himself for later, as his wife Effie (Euphemia. i know, right?), ran off with (and later married) Millais. Actually, Ruskin was rather relieved, and the 5-year marriage annulled in court on the grounds that it was never consummated. Against charges of impotence, Ruskin apparently volunteered to drop trou and prove otherwise. Classy. Definitely the kind of thing one would expect from a Victorian art critic:

There is little that is certain about the intimate details of Ruskin's marriage to Euphemia Chalmers Gray beyond the fact that it was never consummated. A medical examination confirmed Effie's virginity, but in a legal deposition that was not introduced in court, Ruskin stated: 'I can prove my virility at once'. This was never put to the test, [thankfully!] but it seems likely that Ruskin was referring to masturbation. Again, there is no confirmation of this, but a letter to a confidante, Mrs Cowper, in 1868 in which he wrote 'Have I not often told you that I was another Rousseau?' has been taken as a discreet reference to the practice. [i don't get it...] At this same time he told a male friend that he had been capable of consummating his marriage, but that he had not loved Effie sufficiently to want to do so. (ODNB)

Nonetheless, Ruskin's conceptions of nature and beauty, combined with a mystical streak made for an interesting collaboration with the Pre-Raphaelites. These were also into reviving Blake, who was into pretty interesting things, among them, mystical Jewish symbolism. Here's a little teaser: