Here’s an interesting piece of “gone native” campaign furniture. There was much bad about empire building (and still is) but the bringing together of foreign cultures often created new and interesting art and craft styles.
While on the topic, if campaign furniture is of an interest, or if you want to even know what it is, head over to Lost Arts Press and check out Chris Schwartz’s new book on the topic.
Here are just a few designs from the genre known as Campaign Furniture taken from Schwartz’s webpage. Click the link below to go right to his book store.
A couple recent inquiries prompt this quick post about a wooden truck topper. The question that came up a few weeks ago was “why would you make a topper instead of just buying one?” Well, I’m not wealthy and making something costs a lot less than buying it. Also, if you are a woodworker, it’s easy to end up with surplus wood from projects. Often, the next project is virtually free. That’s what happened here.
Sorry for the grime in this photo but I live on the southern Plains. What can you do? I tried to streamline it and match the curves of the pick-up but honestly, I didn’t put too much effort into any aspect of the topper. I just needed something to get me through last summer but I’ve liked it enough that it is now a fairly permanent fixture. The arc of the roof approximates the arc of the truck, created by eyeball and a pen on a board. There is no better tool than the human eye in the creative process.
While making the shell, it became apparent that the Toyota bed tapers to the back. I decided, upon reflection, to be lazy and just ignore this inconvenient truth and keep the shell square. I did, however, match the front of the shell to the slope of the cab and allowed the back of the roof to overhang slightly.
This interior shot shows the three frames and sill that are essentially, the skeleton of the whole thing. Also, highlighted is the eternal mess in the back of a working truck.
Here’s the basic part list that I used: 2x4s for side and front sills, 2×4 frames, tongue and groove yellow pine for sides, front, and hatch, western red cedar roof. Lexan front and rear windows, hinges, closures, and various fasteners to hold it all together. For the roof exterior, 30# tar paper and a canvas truck tarp. The whole thing is varnished with exterior spar varnish. I think the whole thing can be made for a couple hundred dollars as opposed to a couple thousand from the store.
Conception. After years of doodles and illustration, mock-up a few models and decide what works best.
This post is a re-cap of the Vardo build. I get questions about this project at least three times per week and I think it has inspired a few other people to make the leap. I still consider it a work in progress even though it is four years old and has 18,000 miles under it. New and improved ideas are being added right now but maybe this will help somebody get started.
After the sketch-up, start making parts. This was a momentous occasion for me.
Assembly begins. Mild panic sets in; “will this work?” and “am I crazy to dive into this?”
At this point, I took some time to ponder. “Is the size and layout really going to work?”
Attaching the ledge to the prepared frame.
Build, build, build. Using a window of good weather in January.
Even relatively easy details, like door placement and size, were still up for change.
Finally, I can get a real sense of scale.
I fell in love with the design once the box was built.
Working alone means lots of clamps.
Gawkers were willing to take pictures.
The bed framing becomes integral to the structure.
Seats were designed and tested for size and functionality.
The first storage is done.
Wood is good!
The shell becomes complete.
Now for the details.
Temporary window inserted for a quick trip to the desert.
Quick coat of paint and off we went.
A little living helped bring together the details.
Spending time in the space gives an idea of where things are needed.
Finish work is a process, not an event.
The Vardo becomes a home.
A safe and cozy nest on the road.
Still far from done, I took her cross-country anyway.
Things began to come together after a few thousand miles travel.
Finishing touches are added constantly.
As are safety details.
Still making changes and additions four years down the road.
More big changes are happening and I hope to get up some new information very soon. I think an important fact that this project showed was that, for a relatively low-budget, and a little patience, a little home can be built over time but still be usable along the way. I didn’t wait for every last detail to be completed before putting this house to good use or I’d still be waiting today.
This is not furniture worthy of the great builders like Peter Follansbee, Chris Schwartz, or Chris Hall. However, it is a piece of functional furniture created from nearly all recycled materials and will hopefully be with me for the rest of my life. I’ve wanted a sea chest for about as long as I’ve known they exist. These are the unit of personal possessions of the old mariners during the heyday of wooden ships and work well as a low table. I’ve put off building one for many years now as I’m fairly lazy at heart (and intimidated by the huge number of dovetails and other joinery involved). But I’m also a schemer and a planner…
When I took up my current post it had a fairly rocky start and I prepared for the worst. Instead of filling my small house with bulky furniture, I built nearly everything from dimensional lumber, primarily 1 x 12″ pine as it is ultimately recyclable. While rearranging the house over the winter I decided to remove a large set of shelves that were not being used very well. This left me with a hefty pile of very dry, aged pine that now needed a purpose. I decided these would just about serve to make a trunk of some sort and convinced myself to knock up a sea chest.
Being a 21st century guy without huge swaths of time for fine woodworking, I built this fancy box without any complex joinery, just stainless steel fasteners and wood glue. The only purchased materials were the hinges, hasp, and Cabot’s Wood Finish (color: Midnight). So, for a few bucks, a few weekends and evenings, and a little labor, I now have a sea chest to hold my coveted earthly possessions.
The chest is based on several 18th and 19th century sea chests I have seen with a lift out tray and a solid box for small objects. The outer dimensions of the chest are 34 1/2″ x 19″ deep x 18″ high giving an internal volume of nearly 8700 cubic inches or a little over 5 cubic feet. That is about two large backpacks worth of space for possessions. Not too bad.
I should note that some scraps from the barn were added to complete the project. The strakes that hold the handles are oak and the floor of the chest is made from tongue-and-groove yellow pine, left over from previous projects. At the time of this post, I consider the chest about 90% complete. The 5/8″ manilla handles will soon be covered with leather, and the lid support will be replaced with something a little nicer (it is just black para-cord at the moment). Also, the interior needs a finish, probably shellac, to avoid the off-gassing of regular varnish.
I hope this motivates someone else to forgo garbage, mass-produce, pressboard furniture. It is more than possible to make something worthwhile and lasting from the poor end of the lumber yard.
Here’s an image of Mick’s pole lathe where my bowl and plate were created. It’s hard to see all the workings from this view but it’s a pretty great set-up. Unlike a modern, continuous motion lathe, the cutting is done on the down-stroke (about 2 1/2 revolutions) and the spring returns the system to the “up” position. This type of woodworking is done with green wet wood; in this case, alder.
New mess kit, old spoon. Plate and bowl turned on a spring-pole lathe by Mick Robins. Both made from green alder. I carved the spoon years ago from and Osage orange scrap. Just scraped and waxed the set to make them easy to clean and prevent cracking.
Preindustrial Craftsmanship 