In addition to an awesome name, the handle of this beautifully made drop forged open-end wrench tapers elegantly to match the size of the openings, from 7/16″ at one end to 3/8″ at the other. The overall length fits the width of a hand, without too much leverage. The raised lettering on the handle stands out against an easy to grip, unmodified surface. This contrasts nicely with the precision ground ends and deep die stamping containing the size and manufacturer’s name. This wrench is from the mid-1930’s, according to the history of the “Superrench”. But why the quotes around the name?
I purchased the Czeck Edge ruler stop about two months ago and keep finding more and more uses for it. It costs around $35 and clamps onto almost any ruler easily and securely.
In addition to a ruler stop, it is accurate enough to convert a ruler into a double square. Although marketed to woodworkers, bookbinders will also find it quite useful. The non-rusting anodized aluminum is slightly more compatible with binders boards, leather, paper and cloth than a hardened steel Starrett double square.
This tool is useful in circumstances where your dividers are not large enough, for example when centering a label in the middle of a bookboard. It can be used for measuring a book without relying on quantification for boxmaking: simply set the stop for the measurement of the book, then transfer the distance with a knife to your board. It could be used for laying out tooling. I’m sure there are many more uses.
The small (3.75 x 1 x .5 inch with the knob) size is appropriate for books. This is a handy little tool at a reasonable price. Czeck it out! Sorry!
Skillful use of hand tools often depends on their embodiment. They literally become become extensions of our consciousness and body. We think through them in use, not about them. Don Idhe’s example of driving a car is useful. We don’t have to pay conscious attention to where we are on the road. We just drive. The car is a complex tool that has become embodied. We constantly unconsciously adjust to keeping it on the road. In bookbinding, paring leather is a similar unconscious complex activity. If you are interested in this kind of thing, Don Idhe’s Technology and The Lifeworld is a exceedingly readable philosophy of technology.
All craft activities have a greater or lesser degree of embodiment, it accounts for some of their joy, relaxation and pleasure. We get out of ourselves for a while. People often remark on how a tool fits their hand, or is an extension of it, and that it disappears in use. And how time quickly disappears when engaged by using it.
In teaching historic bookbinding structures, however, that these ingrained habits can be counterproductive when trying to recreate, or at least understand in detail, the nuances of earlier techniques. This is one reason for using historic and reproduction tools. They can help take us out of the familiar, and challange our ingrained craft skills. They force us to rethink our relationship to a particular tool, and by extension our relationship with the object being crafted. It is all too easy to slip into 21st century work habits when trying to construct a 16th century Gothic binding.
Using historic tools may or may not be the easiest way to do a particular task. When conserving a book there are many other considerations, including the safety of the original artifact, so many historic tools and techniques are not appropriate. And of course, the skill, experience and ability of the conservator is a significant factor. But by in large, the traditional tools of hand bookbinding have not been mechanized because they are an efficient and accurate way of working.
Possibly the most important aspect of using historic tools, or reproductions, is they aid in interpreting historic techniques. Binding a book in an historic style, even inexpertly, helps us understand deeply how older books were made. And isn’t this type of knowledge at the core of any book conservation treatment?
I had a sudden and strong compulsion to make wooden spoons around nine months ago.
Part of it was a way to avoid some extremely tedious conservation work. Part of it was a desire to emulate the beauty, at least in spirit, of traditional Swedish wooden spoons. Part of it was an excuse to buy some new tools.
I also wanted to test out some longstanding questions; primarily, as where does technique reside? Traditionally Western craft technique is taught by close contact and imitation of a skilled practitioner. Now it is common to learn by reading a how-to-manual, watching a video, or maybe taking some classes. Technique is often regarded as solely residing in the practicioner.
Many aspects of technique may also reside in the tools themselves. Since I didn’t know anything about spoon carving, this might be a good test: How much could I learn by letting the tools teach me how to make a wood spoon?
Of course, I had to start with the best quality tools I could find. The odd thing was, after I made a dozen or so spoons, the compulsion disappeared almost as quickly as it came on. This may be explained by the thrill of accomplishment when beginning to learn a new craft: mastering the final 20% can take a 1000% more time than the original 80%. One reason many people jump around to different crafts; jonesing for a new quick rush, weary of the long path towards mastery.
This was not a true test of technique completely residing in a tool. I have been whittling since I was a kid (ball in cage!), professionally make and sharpen knives, and use axes quite a bit. Nevertheless, it does speak to the relatively easy transference of tool based knowledge, rather than traditional object based craft education. Does the saying “Jack of all trades, master of none” serve to warn against tool based knowledge? Could it be dangerous?
I still use the spoons I made and didn’t give away, they are serviceable and some ended up quite elegant, in my opinion. The one above sees the most use in my kitchen. The handle is comfortable in a variety of grips, and I intended the shallow bowl to be good for tasting while cooking. Wood feels weirdly sticky in my mouth though, like a tongue depressor, so I don’t do this.
I’d forgotten about this episode until a couple of days ago, when I received a blog post from a professional wooden spoon maker, Jarrod Stone Dhal. The Trouble with The Green Woodworking Community or I Don’t Want to be Poor.
There are many aspects of his post that anyone involved with crafts will find of interest. One of his questions revolves around the almost impossible desire to make quality handmade objects at an affordable price. When craft objects get too expensive, people put them on a shelf and are afraid to use them. This might also be part of the reason many craftspeople sell their wares absurdly cheap, and are regarded as failures at business. I doubt that large companies like Walmart care if what they sell is used. People who make functional items want them to be used.
But how many handmade books — including etsy style blank books, seeming sold for less than the cost of materials — actually end up getting used? many books get read? When I worked in an academic research library, I bet almost 10% of the books I recased had never been read.
Much modern craft philosophy emphasizes the making of something as the primary fulfillment. Being in the moment when making, zen like, and so on. This romantic attitude might have inadvertently contributed to public reluctance to pay for the time and skill of craft. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be doing it for the love? You want to get paid too!?”
I’ve been following the career of Ben Elbel for a while. Originally his onion skin binding structure caught my eye. It has a cleverly elegant design, and is one of the few genuinely new binding structures I have seen in the past 25 years. I met him in Amsterdam earlier this summer, and he was kind enough to write up a review of my large Delrin folder in his current newsletter, which is well worth subscribing to.
Benjamin (French nationality, 1983) fell in love with bookbinding while studying art in Strasbourg, France. From the beginning his interest has been towards the experimental side of the craft; however, determined to learn the ‘proper’ ways he embarked on a journey that took him to Switzerland (Ascona- Centro del bel libro), Germany (Göttingen- die Buchmanufaktur) and England (London- Shepherds Bookbinders, Book Works). After these years of working in the trade he started his own bindery, Elbel Libro Bookbinding in Amsterdam providing bespoke bookbinding services. Ben is known for his research in bookbinding and over the years has developed a number of innovative book and album structures such as the onion skin binding, which he shares via workshops and printed tutorials.
THE DELRIN FOLDER by Benjamin Elbel
In May, Jeff Peachey gave a workshop in the Netherlands (the workshop was organised by Herre de Vries, Natasha Herman, Wytze Fopma and Restauratoren Nederland, and took place at bindery FopmaWier). Jeff is an American bookbinder, conservator and tool maker, whose work I have long admired so when I heard he was going to be around I jumped on the occasion to invite him to the bindery.
Jeff made me a gift: a special folder that he’d made, called the ‘Delrin’ folder.
Delrin is a plastic with a very low coefficient of friction, similar to Teflon, which means that it doesn’t leave shiny marks on materials. However, unlike teflon, it is hard.
I wasn’t sure at first, thinking ‘what do I need a new folder for?’ Also, I was suspicious about the low friction qualities. Only after a while did I start trusting it and seeing its qualities:
1. The friction really is very similar to Teflon. I now use it without fear on virtually anything, except perhaps very rough and very dark papers.
2. Its big size is really comfortable for rubbing down. If held like on the picture above, one can really cover large areas very quickly and apply a lot of pressure with less effort than with a small tool.
3. The thin tip is brilliant for rubbing material in grooves without leaving shiny marks and again, the large size means it can be held like a knife and used with maximum pressure.
As one can see on the pictures I have already used it a lot but it shouldn’t be a problem to re-grind it to refine the tip. Thanks a lot, Jeff, for introducing this new tool!
Republished from Elbel Libro Bookbinding, Newsletter, Summer 2016. Sign up for it here.
There are three major improvements to this Sharpening System: Delrin plates for easy removal of used finishing film, an upgraded tightening knob, and larger feet for added stability. I’ve tested this new system for over a year for all the knives I make. Verdict? Excellent, IMHO.
First, and most importantly, the support plates for the microfinishing film are now made of Delrin instead of aluminum. This makes it possible to easily peel off the worn finishing film without using solvents or a fair amount of elbow grease. It stays flat, and doesn’t dish out. The microfinishing film stays in place when in use. The Delrin plates are first machined, then hand lapped. They are 12″ long, 2″ wide, and 3/4″ thick.
The second upgrade is to the adjustment knob. Previously, it was simply tapped through the end of the stand, with a coarse thread. The new adjustment knob is made from stainless steel, has a very fine pitch, threaded through a phosphor bronze bushing. There is virtually no backlash, and nothing to rust. The end of the threaded rod contains a rounded ball, which prevents torquing of the plate while tightening. I’ll be the first to confess that this optical grade adjuster is not absolutely necessary, but, man, it is nice! Like a manual focus Leica lens.
Precise and accurate tools help perform precise and accurate work. At least, his is how I rationalize expensive tools… .
Lastly, in order to make the stand a bit more stable, the hard rubber feet are now one inch wide, with a flatter profile, giving more anti-slip contact with your bench. They can also adjust a bit to level.
This Sharpening System is a quick and convenient way to sharpen, resharpen and keep all your knives and edge tools in peak condition, from scalpels to scimitars, plane blades to plough blades. This is a lightweight, easy to store and unbreakable system. Perfect for travel and classroom use, since there are no expensive stones to dish out, glaze over, or break.
The system contains everything you need: a sharpening stand, two Delrin plates, four 11 x 2″ strips each of 80, 40, 15 and 5 micron 3M PSA micro finishing film, a 12 x 2″ Genuine Horsebutt Strop, and 1 oz. bar of green chromium oxide honing compound.
SHARPENING SYSTEM 3: $285.00 Order here
I purchased this scissors at a flea market last weekend, basically because it looked weird.
I thought it might be ambidextrous, but after playing with it a little, and doing a bit of research, I realized it is not a genuine ambidextrous scissors. But it is an interesting design.
Simply putting a thumb and finger ring on each side does not make an ambidextrous scissors. Otherwise any scissors with symmetrical ring holes would be ambidextrous. For a scissors to work properly, the top blade must be attached to the finger ring, so a scissors has to be right or left handed. This arrangement accentuates the natural action of the hand as it closes, so the cutting edges are squeezed together. If a left hander tries to operate a right handed scissors, the natural action pulls the cutting edges apart, putting the action at a mechanical disadvantage. So a genuinely ambidextrous scissors is a mechanical impossibility, at least if it operates with thumb and finger rings.
Secondly, there is a discrepancy between the patent drawing and the actual product. The patent drawing shows the curved areas of the rings that could be used right or left handed. The actual product uses the same shape on each side, making it uncomfortable to use left handed. Would this difference invalidate the protection of the patent? Possibly this was done to save money when making the mold for casting.
Nevertheless, I decided to clean the scissors and sharpen them. These scissors are very comfortable and convenient to use by right handers since it doesn’t matter which way they are picked up.
After taking them apart, I immersed the scissors in white vinegar for four hours, occasionally removing surface rust with a Scotch Brite pad. I’m amazed at how well the vinegar works, and still surprised how satisfying it is to fix up a tool, returning it to useable condition. It just feels good.
If you are interested in the “proper” way to cut paper with scissors, check out this 1927 illustration from Palmer’s A Course in Bookbinding for Educational Trainning
Miriam Schaer (see first comment) sent me this photo of a lefty scissors (note the top blade attaches to the finger rings), with even weirder placement. I can’t make sense of where you would put your fingers.