Where's your Pole Lathe, Jarrod?
When I was younger I had a tendency to jump into things without testing the waters first. There was the time I wanted to be a bowyer, and later on a wild rice processor—two careers out of many that I needed to abandon almost as fast as I started them. Building bows required a great deal of patient scraping and I’m more of an axe-it-out kind of guy. As for rice, standing and watching machines scorch and thresh and winnow the valuable kernels for weeks on end drove me crazy. Back then I had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that led me to pursue ideas regardless if they fit my personality or met with the bottom line. I still have that thirst for knowledge, but I guess I’ve managed to temper that unbridled enthusiasm with age. Now I put those extra wild cards up my sleeve and wait. Sometimes they come out as bentwood boxes, knutkorg baskets, and new design ideas, but others like being a professional beer brewer or starting a punk band might best remain there.
When I started woodturning on the pole lathe in 2009 I wasn’t sure if this obscure occupation was going to end up like building bows did, but I was definitely obsessed. The fact that this home-built machine was powered by my body made it fit perfectly into the hand tool ethos that I was developing and later fully adopted (See my 2012 post That’s it, I’m burning down my shop). Just to be clear I’ve never been opposed to power/electric tools. In fact when I started turning, I used a bandsaw to cut out my bowl blanks and then mounted them on my pole lathe and I never thought twice about it. I had learned over the years that there are usually a few different tools that can do the job and we each have to find the ones that work best for us. The pole lathe captivated me in ways I’m still trying to understand and express. And learning to use it was one of the most challenging things I’ve ever done.
After 7 years of standing on one leg, pumping away, I started feeling pain which eventually developed into a pinched nerve in my standing leg. I gradually realized the pole lathe wasn’t going to work for me as it once did. The pain was a constant reminder that I had to adapt if I was going to continue doing what I loved—turning bowls and cups. It wasn’t easy facing my egocentric ideals. I had to admit that I’d developed a persona and a mild sense of moral superiority (pride’s dark side) around using this unique foot-powered machine. These types of zealot ideologies are not uncommon in the hand tool woodworking world or in broader society for that matter. Because of our ideals we can rationalize all kinds of things that may not be in our own best interest or even in the best interest of the communities we live in. No matter how I rationalized it, the pain was still there—it’s impressive that Robin Wood did it for so long.
Sometime during 2016 I found a video of a Japanese woodturner on Youtube and got obsessed again, watching and rewatching every video that I could find. The cutting techniques they used were familiar to me because Japanese turners use hooks just like pole lathe turners do. Generally, hooks cut by pivoting on the tool rest whereas Western electric lathe turners push or pull their gouges along the tool rest. The idea of adopting a Japanese-style electric lathe began to creep into my mind. Maybe I should start using a Japanese-style lathe instead of a pole lathe?
After dialog with a Japanese woodturner, hours of internet research, and finding a few magazine articles, I decided to build a Japanese-style lathe from photos. My friend Wes Pilley made the most important metal parts like the main pulleys and the spindle. I built the rest. Later, when I studied with a turner in Japan I learned that the type of lathe I built is called a Yamanaka lathe. (More about my travels and studies in Japan will be in my next post.)
At first I turned the outside of my bowls on the pole lathe and then finished the insides on the Japanese electric lathe. I felt that it was a good compromise. Admittedly, this choice was probably influenced by the lingering rationalizations of my persona as a pole lathe turner. It wasn’t long before I was turning the entire bowl on the Japanese lathe. I still have some reservations about this—the texture of a pole lathed surface is very unique and pleasing to me.
Soon enough I began turning all my work—bowls and cups—on the Yamanaka lathe. There was so much to learn. Like the pole lathe, this style of turning requires the turner to design and forge their own hook tools which are tailored to the designs they are turning. Hook designs for the same task will vary from turner to turner too. This simple fact sets both styles apart from modern Western turning where the tools have largely been standardized. Having to make my own tools has helped me to understand some of the basic cutting principles in woodturning, especially end-grain turning—and this is where the Japanese-style lathe really shines.
In the past year I’ve added a modern Western lathe to the mix of machines I use. Learning how to use it has been really enjoyable. And as mentioned in a previous post, exploring spindle turning techniques and making things like candle sticks has inspired me to think differently and in new ways. I make a distinction between modern Western electric, Japanese electric and pole lathe here because the pole lathe is also a Western lathe. The pole lathe was developed in Europe possibly between the 1st and 3rd centuries A.D. from the strap lathe which is likely to have been developed in the near Far East and in use well before 400 B.C. The history is still not clear. What we do know is that the pole lathe is the predecessor of the modern Western lathe, both are used standing whereas the Asian lathe and the original strap lathe are used sitting. I’ll get into the lineage of the lathes in the next post.
So where’s your pole lathe, Jarrod?
Honestly, it’s in the corner collecting dust and taking up valuable space in my small turning workshop. Seriously though, after a conversation with my friend and green wood contemporary, Barn the Spoon, I realize that the pole lathe had an important place in my development as a craftsperson. Its use for those years helped create a certain sense of well being and confidence in myself and my work. Today I have this need to make lots of stuff—to explore new designs and forms and what machine I use is not as important as what is being made. As fast as I was turning on the pole lathe, I couldn’t make nearly the number of items I can now on electric machines. This means I can work out and explore new designs, new textures, new tool designs much more quickly.
A few times a year I use the pole lathe to turn small batches of lámhóg or other handled cups from solid pieces of wood—something only a pole lathe can do because of its reciprocating action. The pole lathe is good for teaching cutting techniques and introducing people to turning because it’s safe and affordable to build. Sharing my experience and passing the torch to the next generation is important to me, so I am working to complete my overdue book on pole lathe turning and will continue to travel and teach pole lathe turning (as soon as it is possible due to the Covid).
The Japanese lathe is good for turning end-grain including the insides of handled cups, cups without handles, and bowls. The modern electric Western lathe is good for turning tangential/side grain bowls, especially large salad bowls and platters, rough turning large quantities of cup blanks, and recently making candle sticks. I also use it to train assistants to rough turn cups and bowls and learn to turn finished work.
I use and teach the use of hooks with all three of these lathes. I’m constantly learning about the pros and cons of each lathe and having a blast while becoming a more well-rounded turner. The electric lathes insure that I’ll be able to continue turning into the future while helping to get woodenware into more hands. An added bonus is that my pinched nerve is healing.