Saw Change: Repurposed Table Saw, ca. Early 20th Century

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One of the challenges in creating a new piece of furniture from antique machinery — in this case, a dining table/kitchen island from a table saw — is marrying inspiration with the limitations of working with an existing utilitarian product. Certain aspects can be altered, others can be removed, but ultimately the character and history of the item need to be respected and highlighted.

When acquired, the early-20th-century table saw that became the platform from which to create a new, home-friendly furniture piece had immediate appeal. Not only was its hefty frame solid and well constructed, it contained all of its original details, including iron hardware and a start/stop switch. The hand-painted number adorning it, “48,” suggested that it was one of many machines operating within its native wood-mill habitat.

After we removed the saw-blade mechanism and belt, then unbolted the hardwood top, the opportunity arose to utilize some of these residual parts to create a lower shelf. Sections of usable material were cut and carefully pieced together to produce a sturdy storage space, perfect for pots and pans. A thorough cleaning of the original base revealed rich grain tones that, once clear-coated, intensified in color. A salvaged workbench butcher block proved aesthetically complementary while also adding a much larger surface area for additional seating. The finished table not only serves as a practical decor item but also becomes a gathering place conducive to conversation and shared experiences.

 

Down To The Wire: Custom Industrial Dining Table

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Debate has been sparked over the last couple of years among insiders as to the longevity of “industrial” as a decorative genre. Like any stylistic movement, this one will make way for the next, whatever that may be. Inexpensively produced cookie-cutter furniture pieces — generally manufactured in India or China — have entered the market, sometimes giving design enthusiasts pause before they invest in an original item with historical provenance.

Artificially distressing steel and wood to give the look of decades-old, utilitarian factory items is not uncommon. Even fabricating gear-shaped patterns in steel to embellish stools and tables is not unheard of. It’s a way to loosely capture a factory look without, perhaps, going through the time, effort and expense of seeking out an original.

The idea of reproduction furniture is hardly a new concept, but does it kill a design movement when copies or non-authentic items enter the market? I say no. From what I can see, Herman Miller, Knoll, Emeco and many other furniture brands have done very nicely, thank you, simply by providing well-made originals, manufactured to a high standard. The debate over the integrity of materials used in new originals versus vintage ones we’ll leave for another day, but so long as there’s an interest in authentic design, quality and durability, industrial pieces will remain relevant. I’ve long used the example of the Toledo stool, which is now an icon of 20th century design and will hold both its aesthetic appeal and collectibility long after the movement that thrust it into the limelight has passed. The key is to focus on what you like and buy quality.

When this old cast-iron base — removed from a decommissioned wire-spinning machine — was first spotted, the pressing question was: How can this fixture be transformed into a functional dining table? Through some trial and error (and a good deal of grease removal), the custom table was completed via its pairing with a large section of refinished antique bowling alley.

The Fix Is In: Napoleon Mens Bicycle by The Jenkins Cycle Co., ca. 1895

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There is something to be said for tracing a design’s lineage. Modern utilitarian objects are expected to be refined and improvements made as they become more common and as technology warrants. We’re sometimes astonished when the primitive is, in fact, as refined — if not more refined — than the modern version.

Take, for example, this Napoleon bicycle, manufactured by the Jenkins Cycle Co. of Chicago (1895–1898). This lightweight, fixed-gear bike feels so light in the hand, one could mistake the carefully engineered steel frame for carbon fiber or aluminum. The black structure retains most of its finish along with what appears to be faded gold detail. The wood rims have survived without the hindrance of cracks or splits, giving them the potential to once again carry tires, while the head badge, showing some wear, sits proudly in place.

Though primarily a commuter bike, this model encapsulates the notion of quality craftsmanship with the simplicity of pared-back, functional design.

Sink or Schwinn: Steel Parts Cabinet, ca. 1940s

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Iconic Americana brands share a number of similar characteristics: innovation, good design, value and quality. Aside from these factors, truly enduring brands become synonymous with the items they sell. Coca-Cola, Levi’s, Chevrolet, Harley-Davidson and Mobil Oil are easily identifiable, partly due to the narrative that comes rolled into the fabric of each brand; Levi’s represents comfortable work wear, Coke is a joyful experience, and Harley-Davidson equals freedom.

In 1895 the Schwinn Bicycle Company opened its doors in Chicago, a city quickly becoming the hub of cycling production in the U.S. Its founders were German-American immigrants Ignaz Schwinn, an engineer who had built bicycles in Europe, and Adolph Arnold, a meat-packer who bankrolled the business’s start. Though a bicycle boom was underway, the following years presented challenges such as the rise of the automobile in the early 1900s, the Depression of the late 1920s and the growing influx of lighter-weight British-made bicycles in the 1940s.

Nevertheless, Schwinn remained competitive, striking a balance between innovative design and low-cost production. In 1934 it released the AeroCycle, which soon became known as the Paperboy or Cruiser. It featured wide balloon tires, a push-button bell and an imitation gas tank. Competitors quickly followed suit and rushed similar models to market. Before long, this design became the standard of bicycle styling.

Marketing and merchandising were also key to the company’s success. In the 1950s, in particular, Schwinn began scaling back its agreements with department stores that were re-branding its bikes to sell in-house; instead, it encouraged bike shops to stock Schwinn products exclusively. Such retail partners also carried a selection of genuine Schwinn-made parts and accessories to complement and ensure the long life of the bicycles.

Extra-large parts cabinets like the one pictured were uncommon and generally found in larger, flagship-level stores. This item would have sat pride-of-place on a bike shop’s counter as a utilitarian piece housing various Schwinn parts according to their serial numbers. The door can be raised to allow access to the inner, flat work surface, and the divided drawers below are easy to reach. Free of dents, this chest boasts its original handles and clear, sharp graphics on both the outside and inside.

Corner Shop: Workbench By Industrial Bench and Equipment Manufacturing Co, ca. 1940s

IMG_7506IMG_7507 IMG_7520 IMG_7526 IMG_7531 IMG_7538 ib1ib2ib3While admired today for their aesthetics, vintage and antique industrial furniture was considered utilitarian in its day. It was built using durable materials and therefore fabricated to withstand considerable punishment. Though it is appealing to unearth an unusual piece like this shop bench, it is doubly worthy of attention when the item possesses its original and untouched configuration and presents in superb condition.

The Industrial Workbench and Equipment Manufacturing Company was a later incarnation of The New Britain Machine Company, headquartered in New Britain, CT. They began churning out heavy-duty industrial furniture at the beginning of the 20th century and by the 1940s were known as, I.B. (Industrial Bench). The olive hew finish of their products was even referred to as, “IB Green”.

The discussion of quality is a common thread when referencing items of this era and I.B. prided themselves on creating equipment of a higher standard than many of their peers.

The heavy-gauge tubular steel leg sections are welded together, making a single-piece, rigid leg. This results in less sway, irrespective of whether or not the table rests against a wall. The legs and expansive feet are totally closed thus ensuring that dust and other unwanted waste does not accumulate in cracks and crevasses. A variety of optional extras existed including, rear and side plates (to ensure that materials did not fall from the work surface), maple or plain steel tops, lower shelf and drawers, complete with sliding inner tray.

This clean, original example not only possesses its factory configuration, including a drawer and lower shelf, the IB Green finish is excellent and the maker’s labels are clear and visible on the trademarked positioning of the two front legs.

*Special thanks to the Smithsonian Institution Archives and the National Museum of American History Library for their generous contributions to this post.

Top Brass: Weldon Lamp, ca. 1930s

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Much is made of a handful of manufacturers’ interpretations of the task lamp. Some have been highlighted in this blog: Ajusco, O.C. White, Edon, American Fixture Co. and more. These producers adhered to a strict code of pared-back design and unadulterated utility.

Add to this group Weldon Manufacturing Co., a quiet achiever in the brass, drafting-style light arena. This New York company created ranges that included desk, clamp-based and floor lamps.

This example, with a dual-clamp base, maximizes the ease in which the fixture can be relocated. While this feature proved advantageous in drafting scenarios, it was also embraced in workshops and garages alike. Also, the wide, embossed wing nut proved an ergonomic method of tightening the joint around the lamp’s telescopic arm.

The Coolest of Uhl: How To Buy A Toledo Stool

IMG_5136IMG_3216IMG_5586Dorset Finds is frequently asked what to look for when buying a Uhl Toledo stool or chair. Generally speaking, these items were built to last; however, below are some invaluable guidelines that will ensure the piece purchased meets  your needs and continues to perform for many years to come.

1. Establish the height you need. Much of Toledo’s seating is height-adjustable. That said, Draftsman stools are generally too tall for standard-height dining tables and desks, so you may require a chair instead.

IMG_70012. Assess the condition of the plywood seat and backrest. Being the most fragile components of the piece, the wood sections are prone to chipping and delamination. Minor separations can be easily fixed with wood glue.

IMG_7000 red3. Assess the wishbone lever arm. Look for any separations or breaks in the steel loops that cover the ends of the lever. These loops are susceptible to metal fatigue, especially if the original spring has been lost (major red flag) or replaced by a non-original part. The lever arm’s anchors are a crucial stress area in the chair’s design. A key sign that the integrity of this piece has been breached is wobbling in the seat post. If a break is detected, the example is best avoided.

IMG_2232IMG_52154. Look for non-original parts. As time passes, utilitarian furniture within an industrial setting is expected to be mistreated and continue to work. If damage was sustained, in some cases readily available parts were retrofitted purely out of a need for the chair to remain functional. Older models should feature a wing nut and brass spherical nut cap at the rear of the backrest. In later versions this was replaced with a black, round, hardened-plastic turning knob. Ensure that both the backrest and seat have contours. If either of these parts are flat, they’re replacements.

Aside from these structurally driven suggestions, the aesthetics are really a subjective element. Whether one likes rust and chipped paint, wood that’s faded or a glossy varnish, these tips will arm one with the necessary tools to go forth and buy well.

A Call to Arms: Articulating Light by American Fixture Company, ca. 1920s

Regular Dorset Finds readers will remember a post from earlier this year about the American Fixture Co. stable of industrial lighting. The mostly overlooked and underrated Milwaukee firm produced lamps with a mesmerizing array of movement, thanks to the unique double-knuckle system. While simple, the design provides freedom to illuminate a wide range of space.

This example carries an impressive 58-inch reach, while the longest single arm measures 2 feet. In total, 10 knuckles provide great flexibility and articulation. The white porcelain cord insulator is intact, and this example possesses the original manufacturer’s label.

Quick Drawer: Heavy-Duty Rolling Work Station Cabinet, ca. 1940s

An occupational hazard of repairing and restoring old wares is that one becomes a magnet for a diverse collection of tools, parts and hardware. As time passes, one tool box is filled, then another and another. The resulting game of multiple choice when searching for the right item can be harrowing.

When the time came to upgrade to a larger source of storage, Dorset Finds was pretty thrilled to stumble across a heavy-duty rolling work station.

The only thing better than a tool box with 25″ deep drawers is one with a solid butcher block top and a retrofitted shelf. Other customizations include a row of hooks that line one side of the piece; perfect for organizing readily used tools and parts and keeping them off the work surface. Frequently misplaced in other examples is the original solid steel lock plate, that when dropped into a lip on the lower front of the unit, forms part of a mechanism which secures all the drawers. As we found out, large cast iron casters are also a godsend when shifting the full cabinet from one side of the workshop to the other.

Meet the Press: Delta Drill Press, ca. 1940s

With each new project that Dorset Finds undertakes, an appreciation for  implementing the correct tool for the job intensifies. Overhead costs and environmental concerns are always front of mind, therefore buying older American-made tools ticks all the boxes in a practical sense. They were built to last and the carbon footprint of one of these gems is much smaller than a new, cheaply made imported version. The bonus with the Delta DP (drill press) 220 is that not only was it engineered to a high standard, aesthetically its Buck Rogers styling cues speak to the design ethos of that era.

In 1919, the Delta Specialty Company was founded by Herbert Tautz and run out of his garage in Milwaukee, WI. Started as a manufacturer of tools for the home shop, the company quickly expanded to produce light-industrial machinery. The Delta brand – which quickly became synonymous with quality and affordability – specialized in drill presses, heavy-duty saws, grinders and lathes.

Vintage tool and machinery enthusiasts are growing in number and recognize not only the collectibility of these fine artifacts of industria, but also the need to preserve them.

Though well-used, this drill press retains much of its original battleship gray finish. The motor purrs from behind the cast iron front pulley guard while the original Delta aluminum light provides illumination to the work space below the chuck. This unrestored example also possesses a particularly fine example of the maker’s badge.

*Special thanks to Nick and the other members of the Old Woodworking Machines forum.

See Worthy: Good Form Navy Chairs, ca. 1939

Dorset Finds is reticent to throw around the phrase “design classic.” Sure, some pieces are built to last and serve a purpose, and others are aesthetically appealing, but it’s the combination of these factors that propels an item toward greatness and, therefore, icon status.

In 1930, the General Fireproofing Co. launched its foray into aluminum chair production and rolled out the Good Form seating line in 1932. They had just built a new factory with state-of-the-art machinery and conveyor systems designed specifically for this new direction. Prior to the move, the company had focused exclusively on steel furniture, so the $1 million investment in diversifying into aluminum before a single product had left the factory was a substantial one.

Initially, timing proved to be their enemy. Aluminum chairs were more expensive than wooden ones, and with the advancement of the Depression, the cost-conscious were dubious of the new line’s merits. Being the first company to nationally market an aluminum chair, General Fireproofing had their work cut out for them. The Aluminum Company of America (ALCOA), which held patents and designs for several institutional chairs, sold all rights to GF in 1934, giving them an even greater slice of the market.

Upon the request of the U.S. Navy in 1936, a new range of aluminum chairs was created to be stationed aboard all naval vessels. Durability was of great importance: should a destroyer be hit by a torpedo, the chairs were required to withstand the blast! Also, it was imperative that the materials not gradually degenerate through exposure to moisture — as was the case with steel or wood — and the chair’s structural integrity must remain preserved. In all, there are only 12 welds on a Navy chair, and these are filed down to give the appearance of seamless joins.

This is an exciting pair, as they come from a very early production run. There is minimal age to the surface of the aluminum, and what patina is evident only serves to share some of the chairs’ history.

Pedal to the Mettle: WWII B.S.A. Airborne Paratroopers Bicycle, ca. 1940s

Friends and associates alike have often heard Dorset Finds prattle on about the WWII-era BSA Paratrooper bike, a rare and somewhat mythical piece of militaria that folded, attached to a parachute-equipped commando and jettisoned from carrier planes over occupied European territory. The search for a clean, original example over the past few years has met with several dead ends, but finally, it’s proven fruitful.

Possessing equal parts design ingenuity,  a great story (a lost tale of badass-ery to rival any since) and machismo — servicemen used parabikes to chariot their female acquaintances du jour — this collectible is worthy of significant praise.

B.S.A. (Birmingham Small Arms and Metal Co.) was founded in 1861 as a munitions manufacturer and supplier. Most of the company’s revenue was derived from government contracts, for supplying rifles throughout the Boer War, WWI and WWII. Though orders from the governments of Turkey, Russia, the Netherlands and Portugal followed, B.S.A. diversified into bicycles in 188o — and later, motorcycles — in order to remain competitive.

British and Allied forces adopted the Airborne Paratrooper bike during WWII. Photographic evidence demonstrates their use in large-scale landings, including the D-Day invasion at Normandy in 1944 and the Battle of Arnhem later that year. It was highly advantageous for soldiers to land already carrying their transportation, as they conserved energy by not having to walk the great distances from town to town. Rifles could be stored in the bike frame, with the rider’s supplies stowed on his back. Each bike was fitted with a tool bag and tire pump for repairs on the go.

This example features its original B.S.A. leather saddle, unrestored military green paint, pedal bars, lamp bracket, grips and “war grade” Michelin tires. The frame hinges at two points in the middle where the bike can be collapsed. Large wing nuts make for easy locking and unlocking of the frame. Original decals, including the B.S.A. logo of three crossed rifles, are clear and sharp.

Special thanks to The B.S.A. & Military Bicycle Museum and the Old Bike blog.

A Bank Statement: Book-Shaped Money Bank, ca. 1920s

In the first half of the 20th century it was common for independent banks to encourage the opening of new accounts by giving away promotional book-shaped money banks. The thinking was that inspiring clients, particularly children, to fill these small units would result in similar behavior in terms of depositing one’s savings at the local bank branch.

Constructed of a steel box with a lockable door panel and bound in embossed vinyl to create a book-like cover, this piece would go virtually unnoticed on a bookshelf… in an era when people could manage a whole shelf of books.

Though relatively easy to come by, money-bank books generally have considerable wear to the corners and outer casing. The key is usually missing, making it more of a display piece than anything functional. Remarkably, this example is in exceptional condition, with its key and original packaging intact.

Toledo Uhl Draftsman Stool with Japanned Finish, ca, 1910

It’s always a pleasure to unearth a Uhl Toledo piece, but it’s all the better finding one that’s rare or unusual. Regardless of whatever poor state the item arrives in, its restoration can lead to further discovery. With dozens if not hundreds of variations that existed within the product lines, the desire exists to seek out something that you’ve not had before.

Early Toledo products received a copper oxidization treatment to the steel, known as japanning. This effect of marbling matte black with the sheen of copper was popular during the turn of the twentieth century.

Aside from the japanned steel, there are other characteristics this stool possesses that set it apart from its descendents. Rather than using a sprung lever arm, one adjusts the height by swiveling the seat up and down. The footrest ring is a strap of steel, rather than a thick wire, as it appeared in subsequent designs, and the wood is more substantial due to the lack of a metal support framework.

Turning Cart Wheels: Rolling Tool Cart by Lyon, ca. 1940s

With each passing month, the depth of tools that Dorset Finds accumulates increases. Some are acquired out of necessity, and others because they just look so damn cool: worn-down wooden handles, stained from the hands of previous craftsmen; steel, flattened and grooved, and possessing a patina that comes from decades of age.

If every task has its corresponding perfect tool, then where do these tools go when they’re not being used for their intended task? Our suggestion is that they be placed in a rolling tool cart like the one pictured, a piece manufactured in the 1940s by Lyon Metal Products Inc. The convenience of having a plethora of tools at your fingertips can’t be underestimated.

These heavy-gauge steel carts have rolled themselves into the home environment for some time due to their durability, versatility and functionality. Commonly, this item is repurposed as a media stand, kitchen island or bedside table. A single rolling tool cabinet can bear more than a few hundred pounds, which may be irrelevant to most applications, but having that level of strength is never a drawback. Neither is the ability to padlock the front to keep others out of your drawers.

Turn on a Dime: J. C. Turner Dump Truck, ca. 1930s

An appealing aspect of seeking out unusual items is gaining insight into a previous era through its objects. Consumer demand evolves, as does the ability of manufacturers to cost-effectively produce the lines they build, market and distribute. As a result, we can backtrack to the demise of products that were weeded out due to the natural selection of the marketplace.

At a time when U.S. manufacturing had not yet been siphoned away by the war effort of the 1940s, or outsourced to cheaper overseas production locations, a multitude of companies such as Marx, Keystone, Buddy L, Structo and Wyandotte, to name a few, created large-scale steel toys. Today, if similarly substantial mass-produced toys exist, chances are they’re plastic.

The John C. Turner Co. of Wapakoneta, Ohio, was established in 1915 and specialized in flywheel friction steel toys. The pictured example, a classic dump truck, still retains much of its original paint finish, which covers the automotive-grade steel used to construct this piece. The correct wheels and functioning lift mechanism just add to this 27-inch-long behemoth.

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out: American Fixture Co. Lamp, ca. 1920s

Hunting for and acquiring unusual industrial lighting is the name of the game at Dorset Finds. After unearthing models by several manufacturers, the discovery of a new player in this arena is always thrilling and… illuminating.

The American Fixture Co. of Milwaukee produced a staggering array of arms for its patented lamps, each incrementally longer than the last. The company believed that making innumerable variations of its lighting gave clients the greatest opportunity to create customized fixtures based on their exact requirements.

The pressed-steel arms are joined by what is perhaps this design’s most interesting characteristic: double-jointed knuckles — backed with wing nuts — that allow for maneuvering each segment forward, backward and side to side. This range of movement, along with the primitive materials used, gives this piece a Metropolis-esque quality. The pictured example has four sections and 10 knuckles, affording the lamp enormous flexibility and reach.

I Am the Resurrection: Toledo Draftsman Stool, ca. 1930s

There’s a certain deliberation process that unfolds before undertaking a laborious project that has the potential for minimal payoff. The resurrection of an object due to the mismanagement of others is a commitment financially, physically and, more specifically, psychologically.

This Uhl Toledo Draftsman stool is a rarity, and not just for the clown makeup it was dressed in when acquired. While drafting stools with standard seats can be found without too much sweat, an example with a round seat and backrest is far more scarce.

When confronted with such a butchered piece of iconic 2oth century design — masquerading as some sort of oversize children’s candy — the biggest question that goes through one’s mind  is whether it’s worth the effort in unwrapping its outer layer. Once the restoration commences, there’s no turning back.

After all, is it the clown that we dislike or is it the clown’s brightly colored exterior? Next time you see one, throw some paint stripper on him and perhaps you will be given a pleasant surprise, as I was with this stool.

Clocking Out: Automotive Dealership Neon Clock, ca. 1940s

At Dorset Finds, we have one philosophy: The only thing better than an extra-large vintage clock is an extra-large vintage clock that lights up! (Come to think of it, we also subscribe to the philosophies that he who hesitates is lost, and there is never an occasion where three-quarter-length pants are appropriate.)

This timepiece, which dates from the late 1940s–early 1950s was likely manufactured by Neon Products, Inc. of Lima, Ohio.

In the 1930s, the Ohio-based advertising sign maker ArtKraft adopted a technique (innovated by the Claude Neon Company, in France) of bending colored tubes of glass and filling them with light. ArtKraft grew rapidly, and with increased demand, a couple of its tube-benders started their own operation, Neon Products, Inc. Neon Products went on to produce pieces for clients such as RCA, Dr. Pepper and Zenith. In addition to creating signs, the company also introduced lines of neon clocks.

This find, measuring 22 inches across, originally hung in John Howard’s Car Store in Somerset, Penn., and was given an update in 1980 when it received a hand-painted addition to the center of the clock face. Other than that, its features remain original and unadulterated. Best of all, the neon is unbroken and the clock keeps good time.

Special thanks to Jeff at Let There Be Neon in New York for his neon clock expertise.

Rite of Way: Pair of Sit-Rite Chairs, ca. 1940s

The scarcity and masterful design of the Sit-Rite chair, manufactured by the Edward L. Koenig Co. of Chicago, have been long respected by Dorset Finds. This pair, found in exceptional original condition, may let the images speak for themselves.