There are a couple different configurations of period joined stools and formes. The forme I made recently features a lower stretcher that connects the legs. This is a standard English style. Formes with a central stretcher are also known. In this case, the stretcher is in the middle of the forme, directly under the seat and ties to the end stretchers.

Period formes are often a bit taller than I made mine (my log was only 35" long, just tall enough to get two legs out of each riven piece). People put their feet on the lower stretchers to keep them off of the cold floor, which may have been earthen or stone in the 17th c, but likely cold in any time.

In use, I find the stretcher connecting the legs a bit problematic. You can't get your feet very close to the table when serving. This is a problem period servers didn't have. Dining in the 17th c often looked a bit like the famous painting of the Last Supper, with Christ and his disciples all seated on one side of a long table. I always thought this was artistic license, allowing Da Vinci the ability clearly show each disciples face. But in fact, this is the way many people of that time (Da Vinci's time, not Christ's) ate. They were seated on one side of a table and served from the other.

Attitudes about dining and servitude changed (thankfully) and people began eating at more egalitarian oval tables. They were served plates of food or elegant serving dishes that allowed them to serve themselves.

As we design and build period furniture, it can be helpful to learn the context in which the originals were used. I was supposed to build two or three of these formes, at least one long forme and possibly two shorter. I've only finished the one thus far. I'll move that one to the far side of the table against the wall so I can better serve my disciples their chicken nuggets and mac and cheese.

— Adam

I really appreciate the overwhelming response I received from my tool offerings. Thank you all so much for your interest and support. It really means a lot to me personally.

As I said when I started accepting orders for tools 2 months ago, I have no intention of making tools full time. I am first and foremost a period cabinetmaker. I feel doing the work has informed my sensibilities regarding tools and I have no doubt that will continue.

I'm not sure what the future holds for me. I'm hoping to produce tools on speculation and sell them as they become available. This will allow me greater design freedom and perhaps the ability to use whatever materials I have on hand at the moment. I'm not exactly sure how this will work. But I'll post information here and at AdamCherubini.com.

Current customers whose orders have not shipped may be permitted to increase their order. As I think of it, if your order has already shipped, I can probably be persuaded to make additional tools to complete a set. As a woodworker first, merchant second, I sympathize with the deep desire to have complete matching sets of tools! I love matching sets of tools.

Adam

P.S. Maybe I need to say clearly- I'm not going "out of business", I'm not broke. I'm working hard on filling the orders I have at present and will continue to do so happily. But I'm also continuing to build furniture, write magazine articles, and prepare for some really awesome public appearances including the Woodworking in America conference. Being able to meet my commitments in the uncompromising way to which I'm accustomed means I have turn off the tool making at present.

I had the privilege to host the Philadelphia Museum of Art's secret weapon, carver/conservator Chris Storb a few weeks ago. Chris isn't just an expert carver, he's intimately familiar with 18th c work and especially familiar with Philadelphia work.

Chris is a fantastic source for not only how to do it, but also specifically what was done. This makes him particularly rare. These two bits of information are more typically found in two different people (expert period woodworkers for the how, and furniture curators for the what). So it was with great pleasure that Chris agreed to visit my shop and let me painstakingly photograph him carving a Philadelphia style ball and claw foot. I'm looking forward to sharing what I learned from Chris in an upcoming issue of your favorite woodworking magazine.

Adam

Chris Storb Links:

• Access Privileges from my blog
• Two American Masters from my blog
• 'Antiques and Fine Art' Magazine

As you will soon learn in your favorite magazine, I am building a chippendale chair. So naturally I'm looking at as many chairs as possible. I've had the opportunity to examine reproductions old and new, as well as many fine originals. Speaking of which, there's a nice display of chairs in Winterthur's little museum space (not the period rooms). It's in the gallery downstairs from the Dominy Shop. Don't miss the story about regionalism there. I like to argue that there's no such thing as regionalism, or at least that assigning styles to regions is imprecise. You can see evidence for and against in this exhibit.

Anyway, what I'm struck by is how similar chairs are to people. Modern chairs seem to be bigger than period chairs. Sometimes you do see an overall scale change. My friend Paul and I were recently examining the Windsors in the PMoA. They are indeed diminutive compared to many (but not all) modern repros. But that's not what I'm talking about.

It's true that Philadelphia chairs tended to be higher than English chairs. Thomas Chippendale set the height of chair backs at 39" as I recall. Philadelphia chairs are typically over 40" (it's a regional thing). But that's not what I'm talking about either!

What I'm talking about is the wood stretcher. You know, that special machine that makes wood that was cut too short or planed too thin larger. We first learned about it in Junior High wood shop class, remember? We cut a piece of pine too short for the candle stand we were making and we asked our woodshop teacher for help. He said "Oh, you'll have to put that in the wood stretcher (meaning scrap bin) and get a new piece".

Maybe the chiding scarred us for life. Maybe the act of wasting material we love just goes against our natures. Maybe woodworkers are naturally risk averse. Whatever the reason, it seems modern woodworkers always want to leave a little extra just in case. The result is often blocky looking furniture, that would work better in the Flintstone's house.

Look how delicate the ankle is on this chair. Magnificent, isn't it?



I've been practicing carving these legs for months and none of mine look like this. It seems to me I have to work right to my line and be very aggressive with my gouges. But I am inhibited by my shop's huge wood stretcher.

Adam