Sunday, February 12, 2012

Handrail of doom pt 2

So, here we have our first two turns "squared out" of solid oak:



...attached to the correct lengths of straight handrail and set over the cap for a final fitting and angle check before we start to carve the profile onto the pieces:



looks pretty good:



Practice piece: we experiment with routers and different carving tools for a bit:



and then start in on the real thing...

before:




much, much after:








some wet weather blows in so we fall back and start to work out the design for the bottom turn of the staircase, which flows into this spiral piece called the "volute".



and now, back to carving....

Wednesday, January 25, 2012


Problem:

My friend needs to carve solid blocks of oak into curved, twisting handrail sections in order to finish a staircase for a client. Ok. Here we go.

After slogging through a sixty year old handbook written by a master Italian rail carver from San Francisco, making extremely accurate measurements of the staircase, studying everything I could on the internet about his system (called the tangent handrail method), brushing up on my plane and solid geometry, and drawing for four days straight, we ended up with this drawing on a full sheet of MDF (4 ft x 8 ft plus a little) which would (theoretically) accurately describe the three dimensional shape of a curved handrail if it were projected onto flat surface, like a block of wood.:



So, ok, next we glued up a big ol hunk of MDF to practice our carving and test our layout on. The THM gives you a big crescent shape, called the face mold, and some accurate angles that will eventually create the twist in the section, which you can see here on our practice block:



We make our first cuts with a big chop saw:



and proceed to laying out our guidelines on the actual block. This picture shows the first position of the face mold, the bevels (the profile of the handrail where it straightens out into a flat rake section instead of the curve), and the outside edge of the block that we will carve the section out of:



This picture shows the face mold slid into a position that describes the inside edge of the block, which is the top of the handrail projected onto the surface of our block. This part was really tricky, as there are different ways these angles can be transferred onto the block to give you steep rise/slow rise and L/R handrail shapes.



We square the edges of the pattern through the block and cut out this shape, called a "blank", with a bandsaw. We had to build tables and get a heavy duty blade to make the cut, the block probably weighed a hundred pounds to start. We realized at this point we were going to put a lot of thought into our tooling if we were going to get this thing to turn out right.



The following pictures shows the method we devised of roughing out the shape. Making it up as we went, we used a chainsaw to cut relief kerfs to our guide lines, working on what will be the sides of the handrail section first:





Then knocked the blocks out with a chisel and hammer:



And finish the shape with a right angle grinder with a very aggressive disc. Now we have a "plumb" section of handrail blank.



Then the same techniques to describe the third surface of the block, which is actually the bottom of the handrail when we put it over the staircase:




The MDF section was basically right but not perfect, so we made several models of the section, each time slightly adjusting our face mold shape and bevel angles, out of styrofoam to get it dialed in:




Once we got a model that sat perfectly over the center of the stringer cap (the curved outside edge of the staircase that we would be eventually using for a bottom rail) it was time to start on the actual oak handrail section. Our starting block needed to be 3.5 x 13 x 48 inches, and so we would have to glue many small boards together to make it. (This would also give us many slightly different grain directions, which would increase the strength and stability of the final piece.) After planing our stock planks of oak, we glued each layer laterally first:



..after the set up we ran the pieces through the planer again so we would have ultra flat boards, meaning no voids and excellent joints, and then did our final lay-up:


(thats sixty clamps and one STRONG oak block)

Final face mold and bevels on beautiful solid oak block:



Rough out "blank" with skill saw and band saw:







Drop pieces, might make fun sculptures someday:



Plumbed final handrail section, after lots and lots of chainsaw and chisel and grinding wheel action, its OAK, after all:



We join sections of the straight rake rail, called shanks, to the blank so we have sight lines to fair our bottom surface to as we carve:





And,

it fits!





and Hal's thinking, ok, now, how do we get it from looking like this:



To looking like this:


(railing we built at the top of the landing)

One day at a time, but we're glad to have made it this far. Stay tuned.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

multiples





I like working in sets. I feel that art should smash together form, content, material, emotional, historical, psychological construction into a pure moment, a cast of consciousness. I like to put myself into that cast, to run a program of parameters, again and again, letting drift happen and leaving markers...and then it is done. The program is no longer viable. Because the parameters of who I am, of my consciousness, have shifted entirely. One, maybe the only, reason I see to stick to a program is because it might make a strange thing more beautiful, when their are sets of them...they look better, more coherent, maybe even turn into a better product. Which is why I force myself to run in sets. But now, to figure out how to run sets of sets...it could take a lifetime...and who is going to care about all the stuff that gets made...and, if that is what all this is about...well, it's a cruel irony that what a desperate individualist needs most is the lustful gaze of the many....

muses on Gerhard Richter...

Thursday, December 1, 2011

3 years ago


I made this drawing. I think I later put a little color on it and Kellie Peach sold it later at the first show I did with her @ Mama Buzz. Just found it rifling through old files.
I like the little poem, says:
the sadness
stuttered
rose
spread its wings
flew....
not away,
so much.
just around
in circles,
really.
life.
out of pencils. 11/23 JQ