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'lifted' ends |
I don't make a habit of incrementally posting updates throughout my buildouts. I approach every posting from this side of the great firewall with a bit of frustration and a modicum of dread. Having to negotiate blogspot.com with an unreliable internet service and mandatory VPN means that basic postings require more time than is necessary for those outside the Middle Kingdom and there is always the lingering potential to unexpectedly lose data. I have wondered whether posting more often might increase comments or having more commenters might more likely increase my willingness to post. Chickens and eggs.
I had been playing with the idea of a drawered table for a time but I wasn't fully sold on a design until I came across the example from the Metropolitan
Museum. I had seen corner tables with drawers on two adjacent sides but this example convinced me to take a plunge. Knowing the overall dimensions made it fairly easy to determine the other essential dimensions with a set of dividers and a large printout.
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the starting point of the build |
Museum curators generally focus on external appearances even when the internal details are the greater focus of interest for woodworkers. I am confident enough to aver that I can recognize best practices of drawer construction, both from reading and from having repaired antiques. Before making this piece, I was less confident with knowing what best practices are with regard to what the drawers are pulled out of and slid back into. The most basic method is a box inside a box construction. I've been also making some 'spice cabinets' and so this method has been at the front of my mind. Scaling up from such a small cabinet requires a different approach. Modern woodworking practices have all but abandoned wooden construction in favor of metal slides. The main advantage I can see to these devices is that they do not allow for pulling out a drawer too far. The photocopy above shows a few construction details but also leaves many out. One can see the bottom runners that support the middle drawer. I also deduced that the kickers for this same drawer are the bottom rails which support the two smaller drawers. This double duty of one element is just one appealing aspect of this design. There were still more internal details that needed to be worked out as work progressed.
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the single piece runner and guides |
My first innovation was to make runners and guides out of one rabbeted piece. Most often when doing repair work on antiques these the guides and runners are found to be nailed together and to the interior. In general, I want to avoid this shoddiness. Starting with the center drawer, I aligned and cut the guides to fit between the legs and then inset the the runners into dadoes in the front and back legs, securing the pieces to the front legs (where greater stresses come into action) with a single 5mm screw in each and only gluing into the back legs with hide glue.
I then cut the runner section of the similar rabbeted length to fit between the spaces of the lower rails, letting the guide portion merely touch the legs. These were attached with 8mm dowels, using dowel centers that I bought in Amsterdam.
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Shaker refinement |
In keeping true to the high standards of Shaker craftsmanship I turned tapered drawer pulls, using a tapered deburring tool. A fluted reamer would likely leave a smoother surface but this tool, nonetheless, is adequate. I left enough length to allow a compressed fit with just a touch of glue to hold the joint together.
I made a few changes that, I believe, are worthy of mention. I added a beaded edge to the bottom of the rails. I think it just looks better, giving a clearer visual cue. The original piece is assembled from a variety of wood species by a craftsman who knew their properties and how to select the best pieces from a much better quality lumber supply. I used the best of the SYP stock that I have on hand and some hard maple that was sawn in Dongbei some time ago, (The woodshop chief bought a large pallet of it because much of it is spalted.) and a limited stock of German red beech. Clear, straight grained maple was selected for the legs; whereas, the original has cherry (by eye).
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maple on maple |
As anybody who has repaired
antique case furniture quickly learns, one weakness of drawers is that the sides, usually made of softwood to reduce weight, are worn down from years of being abraded across hardwood rails and runners. It's a
routine repair to remove the sides and attach new wood to replace this loss. I decided to forego this eventuality by gluing a strip of maple along the bottom of the sides before milling them to final dimensions. It remains to be seen how well this solution benefits this piece. A hundred years of in and out will bear witness.
Since this is a worktable (of an unspecified function), it's understandable that the original tabletop was made with reinforced edges. It also has a raised lip on all four sides that appear to meet at mitered corners. I don't need a raised lip and I considered attaching a breadboard end of hardwood, which is still an option on any additional pieces. Somebody using the woodshop for an order of beech tabletops had left a bundle of beech strips that I pulled from the waste and happily applied to strengthen the sides.
{insert expository photo here of innovative design feature}
From one of the Metropolitan Museum's online
photos, there appears to be a stop that prevents accidental overwithdrawal. (It's a word!) I started to think about this (safety) stop as well as backstops. I eventually decided to simply focus on the backstops. Since it's not a typical configuration to have two opposing drawers in case construction, the goddess, Moulariprionia, blessed me with this inspirational solution. I surface planed a length of maple stock to a thickness that snugly rested between the backs of the drawers so that they both were flush with the exterior. I then cut out recesses, scribed and centered from the inside dimensions of the long upper rails. Onto the upper projections I pared tapered slopes into one side, which was then used to transfer the receiving mortises. After sawing into the rails the mortises were fully chopped out. Thus one piece was made to function as backstops for two drawers and a support for the tabletop.
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the only backstop available for viewing |
I swear I took a photo of this joinery before screwing through the upper rails with three screws on each end, the two screws on the left and right driven into crossgrain slots, into the tabletop, which would have made this wordy description moot. Praise the ongoing mysteries of the goddess!
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a handy angle drive |
I know from experience that backstops on bottom rails can lead to problems. Many backstops bang up against a small surface of the drawer sides. I decided that it is better to spread this force across the drawer back as with the above example, which inspired me to simply attach a length of pine, properly thicknessed and tested with double sided tape, to a rail with hide glue. In a hundred years or so, we can evaluate its effectiveness. Lastly, the piece received a beeswax finish cut with linseed oil and mineral spirits.
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Simianping with drawers |
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Symmetrical profiles |
I thought it would be instructive to examine a simianping that has been gathering dust in the woodshop. I can only suspect that the woodshop chief owns this table but he is as indifferent to its condition as its previous owners. While there is excessive water damage to both feet and top, it manages to hold together despite the many nails that have been pounded into it over the years in vain efforts to repair it. After my rescuing the simianping that was set to the curb, I was interested in this table to learn how the drawers were made and inserted into the structure.
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bottom boards and drawer runners |
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deep socket halfblind dovetail construction |
My intention is not to diminish some of the esteem surrounding Ming style furniture construction, but if these photos have such a result so be it. I looked at all four drawers to be certain that I had not pulled out an odd one of the four. The bottom panels have grain running lengthwise front to back locked within plowed grooves as with the tabletop, as with the tabletop, some sides have shrunk leaving gaps. The drawer fronts have deep socket to receive the sides that pass very loosely into their opening.
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drawer with bin pull |
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Paneled drawer bottoms |
It was a challenge to photograph the interior due to the low light levels in the woodshop, but honestly, there is nothing to see. The underside of the table is thin deal also trapped into grooves. This surface is all that supports the drawers, one big empty void that the drawers enter and exit. If it's anything, it's simple.
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superfluous and problematic extensions |
Two additional points are worthy of mention. Very often drawers on Chinese furniture are constructed with sides having an extension at the bottom which is then trimmed for a final fit as a backstop. In some examples I have seen, the extensions are nearly as long as the rest of the drawer so that they might also function to prevent overwithdrawal. Despite the complete absence of anything for these extensions to butt up against, the craftsman added them to all four drawers. Many have been snapped off so evidently this projection represents a weakness. I hold the opinion that the craftsman who made these drawers, the same worker or another working alongside the principal builder of the table, made all drawers in a perfunctory manner, bound by conservative tradition, despite the additional labor and material.
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a pony hoof |
There is a common feature of
Ming furniture legs that is referred to as a horse hoof, 马蹄脚. This can be compared to a reverse cabriole leg, lending visual weight to the base while maintaining an overall cubic form. It is an extravagance on one level because a much larger stock piece is necessary from which much wood of the leg is cut down to create the horse hoof. This detail perhaps is a frugal innovation or because a sufficient stock piece couldn't be obtained. It has indentations shaped with a curved rasp. It's effective in its execution.
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historical advertisement |
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Promotional calendar |
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vintage cheongsam |
A short time ago, my wife invited me to an exhibition in the Jiangsu Provincial
Art Museum. I went along mainly to humor her, expecting very little from this outing as from any museum in China. As it happened, I was pleasantly surprised by a display of early lithographic advertisements from the early republic that detailed the evolution of the modern and modernizing cheongsam which is based on a more squarish Qing era qipao. I strongly suspect that this collection was curated by a Shanghainese due to its high quality although the display notes were only in Chinese. Nearly all the advertisements appeared to be from Shanghai businesses.
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Chinese museum quality furniture |
Amongst the dresses, calendars with pretty ladies, and vintage artefacts was a full display of a household interior that featured a sort of dressing table. What caught my eye was the poor state of this desk's condition. Not only was it uncleaned, it showed damage and significant loss. I don't want to speculate but there is, in my mind, a connection between the casual state of disrepair in this museum display and the disregard for a table built around the same era (note the similar bin pulls) and neglected in a dank parking garage.