Mosaic table

I have recently invested in another huge bundle of Chippendale/House of Miniatures kits, 35 pieces all in all. I still had some from previous purchases, but it was a good deal, and who knows how much longer these kits are available since they were discontinued since 1980s. I wonder how many of each kit was produced and how many can still be in circulation. It is expensive to get them over from the USA, but it's the only way, and if you split shipping costs by the number of kits, it's tolerable. I have only bought kits I know I want to make again - I am never again in my life making the breakfront or wardrobe. Or maybe I will some time in the future. What I am saying is that, once I have made all existing kits and have now started on duplicates, I want to experiment with different finishes and decorations, and I will also be bold.

While I was waiting for my parcels from the US, I kept thinking of possible variations of kits I had made before, like I have already done with Adam furniture. One idea I had was to make a table with mosaic tabletop, and the best kit for this was doubtless Queen Anne tea table. When I first made it, I failed spectacularly with mouldings, so this time I was very careful. I am worthless at mitring mouldings, even after all these years.

I will not show the project step by step, because it was exactly like the previous one (except that I did somewhat better with moulding). I used three coats of stain: brown mahogany, red mahogany and more brown mahogany until I was happy with the tone.

Before I glued on the legs, I made the mosaic tabletop. I learned to make egg-shell mosaic some years ago,  and I also made a tabletop then, although it doesn't feel as perfect as I thought then. But the technique is the same, and I again used two paints, gold and bronze. They are only slightly different, but the two shades create a nice effect.

 

Yes, I glued every single bit separately, no cheating. Tweezers and toothpicks and patience. I didn't clock the work, but estimate two to two and a half hours. I certainly feel it was worth the trouble. It's definitely OOAK, and while it probably is not good enough for Kensington Dollhouse Festival, I am really proud of it.

Tilt-top table

This was a quick project that literally took no more than a couple of hours. Tilt-top tables were popular as occasional tables because they could be folded when not in use, taking less space.

The only difference in technique between this one and the various candle stands I have made is that there is a tiny mechanism for tilting. It was easy to make.

I used a new stain for this piece, antique pine, and I applied at least ten coats before I was satisfied. I used gold paint on the edge, just for variation. At the moment, the table is in the drawing room. You cannot have too many tables in a Victorian drawing room.

Queen Anne serving table

While I was in the table mood, I also made another Queen Anne piece, a serving table with a marble top. The same kind of marble top as on the corner table. According to description, the marble top was for placing hot pots and pans without damaging the wooden surface.

 

This is a very interesting kit because it has a completely different design from other tables. In addition to the round table and the corner table, I have also made the three piece table, a side table, a serving table, and a tea table. But this kit was very special. Here are the parts:

 

This is my usual brown mahogany stain, but there is very little left, and probably I hadn't shaken the jar properly, because it looks darker. More like dark oak. Which is also pretty.

The instruction was very good and easy to follow:

 

The trick was to square the assembly very, very carefully and let it dry properly. The rest was easy:

 

But as you see, the construction is different, because the marble top has to be glued directly to the frame. Prior to that, the frame had to be varnished.

 

I think it's a beautiful piece. I think I am better at tables than sofas.

I placed it in the front of the dining room, which meant that I moved the lovely side table to the back. I guess I will be moving furniture around again and again.

Queen Anne table

This weekend my group is making tables. There are three very elegant Queen Anne tables in the collection, and I have already made one.

This one was different, although after I had made it, I realised that it is very hard to judge from the cover picture just what the finished piece would be, size-wise. For instance, it is only after I had made it that I realised that the bachelor's chest was smaller than other chests.

 

You cannot tell from the picture that this table is higher than the tea table. Or maybe you can. Maybe I don't look carefully.

Anyway, after I had conscientiously sanded and stained the kit I suddenly felt that I had enough of mahogany tables, but could perhaps make something different. There isn't much room left in the house for more occasional tables, but what if I made a dressing table for the bathroom? The description says that these tables were sometimes used as dressing tables. A bathroom piece also allowed a shabby look.

I painted the bits on top of stain, and as it turned out, I didn't even have to paint over and wipe, but the stain showed through the paint in a most artistic way. I did wipe away the white a bit.

 

Assembly was easy, the drawer fitted fine (unlike the latest chest I had so much trouble with), and I found interesting knobs.

 

I replaced a small table I had had in the bathroom for ever. Nothing wrong with it, but this one is much nicer.

Queen Anne settee

This project was again something I made simultaneously with some members of my Chippendale miniature group, and I have lots of step-by-step pictures. It was one of the most difficult kits I made, and we all agreed that the instructions were the worst ever.

 

I started with sanding and staining legs and arms, which was straightforward. I have now become really good at it, and bold too - not anxious to break or damage something.

 

Then I had a proper look at the foam and discovered that one bit was crushed.

 

I didn't have suitable foam, and although I as usual consulted my group, nobody could suggest anything that might work. (As it turned out, I didn't have to worry at all because the foam was to be trimmed anyway, and I could cut off the faulty bits. But we are not there yet). 

The instructions for making the back were definitely inadequate, and it took me some time to figure out what was what and how it should fit together. 

The next steps were also poorly described, but finally I figured out how to glue on the foam and how to trim it.

 

The crushed bit of foam went to the seat, and because the seat was more narrow than the back it worked just fine when I trimmed it. 

Now came the stage I had been trying to avoid. The thing is, I had still not decided what fabric to use. The provided standard blue is horrible. I browsed the web for actual Queen Anne furniture and got some idea about suitable fabrics, but I had nothing at hand. I also searched ebay, both for dollhouse fabrics and for full-size remnants. With a delicate miniature like this, the pattern is crucial. I had a vague idea of what I wanted. If I hadn't been making the sofa together with my group I would have probably put it aside and waited for a fabric to happen. Here were some of my options:

My clear preference was the bottom right one, the flowery one, and the fact is that I have used it for an armchair that I have now given away. However, it is too similar to the fabric I used for the Chippendale sofa. My second choice was the dark red silk, the bottom left. It would make a grand sofa, but I considered where I might put it - likely in the ladies' drawing room, and it has pastel colours so that a red sofa won't match. I didn't want a sofa in any other room - I don't have space for a sofa anywhere else.

Finally, I decided on a fabric that is from a completely wrong period, but I just couldn't go on forever. My competitors were already finishing their projects, with lovely fabrics. I felt compelled to go on.

 

I have only used a tiny bit of it before, for a half-scale four-poster bed, in a house long gone. I really like this fabric, and I decided it didn't really matter it was wrong. I could always refurbish it later.

The secret of neat upholstering is, as I have learned from my group, letting the glue set after each step. And then pulling the fabric really tight over the other edge.

I was quite happy with the result. 

 

Next, I had to do tufting. One day I will compile a glossary of words I have learned through miniature-making. Wonderful words that describe various processes and skills. I have done tufting before, but I didn't know the name for what I was doing.

The next step in the instructions was to cover paper templates with fabric to glue to the back and bottom. However, I had previously used a different technique, which I think was simply caused by short supply of fabric. I photocopied the fabric onto paper - or rather, I had done it before, because by now it would have been too late, and besides my colour printer is broken. But I had saved a sheet with this pattern which I had probably intended to use for wallpaper. I am glad I remembered it, and I am glad I had tested it before. It is so much neater this way.

I cut templates from the paper and glued to the bottom of the seat and the back of the back.

You cannot tell the difference, can you?

Then I glued the seat and back together and left to dry overnight.

The day after I glued on the legs and the arms. The former for easy, the latter... I don't even want to describe it.

Anyway, I finished it, and I believe this is the first Chippendale miniature that I don't like. I mean, I am not happy with it. I like what my friends did with their kits, but I don't like mine. I will have to re-upholster it some time later, but right now I have just stored it away. It's unfair, because it is quite sweet and neatly made, but I am not proud of it. Sometimes that's the way it is.

 

Maybe it will fit in some other project.

Queen Anne wardrobe, part 2

Read the first part of the story here.

After leaving the project overnight with a really big problem I was reluctant to return to it in the morning.  I pretended that I didn't know anything about the doors and that I had intended all the time to start painting on the outside.

Now listen to this carefully: I keep making this mistake over and over again. I wanted the colour to be 18th-century white, which is white with just a tiny shade of blue. I mixed this colour for the dressing table, which the wardrobe was to match, but of course I hadn't kept the paint, and I hadn't written down the exact proportion because I had just mixed it. Moreover, I had completely forgotten how little colour you need to add to white. I poured about half a deciliter all-purpose white in a jar and added... hm, far too much blue. I blended in another half deciliter white, and it was still bright blue. I took a third of it and added more white. It felt like preparing a homeopathic extract.

What I got was, I think, a lovely colour, only it was nothing even near the dressing table (and I may repaint the dressing table now).

I was still pretending that I didn't know about the doors, and I felt really pleased with my project.

 

But I couldn't go on pretending forever, so I consulted my facebook friends. I had two options. I could sand the top and bottom of the doors, but the problem was that there were pin holes I was anxious to break. I could also try to take off the frame and glue the top and bottom trim half a millimetre up and down, which was risky, since the frame could break, and it wasn't certain it would work anyway. I was glad I hadn't glued the central divider, since my FB companion had warned me about possible complications. At least it wasn't entirely my fault: there was after all something wrong with the kit.

Anyway, after some contemplation I decided that sanding the doors was the least evil. You have no idea how much time and energy it takes to sand away a millimitre of wood! I was cautious not to sand too much, and I had to keep the edge straight, and every now and then I wanted to throw the whole thing in the dustbin. But after what seemed hours - and probably was - the doors fit, and I could paint them as well.

I drilled holes for knobs and put them in. I even found gold stickers that I used many, many years ago on my first clumsy furniture.

I was prepared for a battle with pins, but to my surprise they behaved, and it didn't take me more than three attempts. I had almost breathed out, but a new problem was already looming: the central divider that I had been warned about. When I inserted it - cleverly without gluing - the doors wouldn't close.

Since I had been warned I didn't throw it in the dustbin. Instead, I took out more sandpaper, and after another hundred hours the silly thing finally fit.

Imagine: the doors opened and closed, everything was neat and fine. I could hardly believe it, waiting for the next trick.

And it came. There must be something wrong with this kit, because I have never before had so many problems with things not fitting. The drawers were at least half a millimetre too large on all sides. Or the drawer boxes too small. More sandpaper. But I had made up my mind to finish, and I did.

 

And with doors open:

 

And in its environment, the master bedroom:





To take the picture, I have removed some objects from the front for a better view. The wardrobe is so pretty that I'd like to display it better, but there is really no other place for it. Now I need to fill the shelves with clothes.

Queen Anne wardrobe

I have promised myself that I won't make any more Chippendale miniatures before I do at least some work on the house - not just putting up new chandeliers, but also finish curtains, hang pictures, find place for all small objects still in boxes. It will go on forever, but at least some progress...

Then my Chippendale group suggested another challenge, and we decided on Queen Anne wardrobe because it is an intimidating piece, and it's great to support each other as you go.

I knew I wanted to replace the old wardrobe in the master bedroom. Not that there is anything radically wrong with it. But it is plain. I got it in a bundle from ebay so I have no attachment to it.

But of course I wanted the new wardrobe painted whitish, and I wanted it to match the dressing table.

I will tell the story in detail because it is illuminating. It has been a while since I showed a project step by step, but I took lots of pictures for the challenge so I can just as well share them. And reflect on the process.

So the first thing to do is, as usual, lay out the parts. Because it is a large piece, there were two layout sheets, one for the base and one for the cabinet.

 
Since I wasn't going to stain I could start assembling at once, after sanding all outside surfaces. This is part of the skill: figure out which will be outside surfaces. I was planning to have two different colours on the inside and outside, and typically I would paint first, but in this case I knew that the inside of the base, where the drawers go, would be unpainted. Therefore I could glue it together right away.

 

You would think that after the numerous chests I had made this would be child's play, but each piece is unique and has its own intricacies. The drawer boxes are very low and hard to manipulate, and one shelf had to be flush with the back and the other two flush with the front, so it was less straightforward than a simple chest. And as you see, it had to dry held by tape. Sometimes I use rubber bands, but there were too many details to keep in place.

While it was drying I had a look at the other layout sheet.

It was frightening, until I realised that four panels and sixteen small parts were drawers, and if I assembled the drawers the rest would be much more manageable. This is the wisdom you have gained after you have made a dozen chests. Therefore I identified the drawer parts and glued the drawers, except fronts that I would add later.

 

Everything became clearer now. Also, I forgot to mention that I had sanded the legs first of all. This is another wisdom gathered after a number of cabriole leg chairs and sideboards. Sand a leg every now and then, when you need a rest from intellectual work. It takes ages.

So as I returned to the base I had legs ready.

 

This was best to leave to dry overnight, and I switched my attention to the cabinet. I knew I wanted to wash the inside with light blue, and now I could figure out which the inside was, sides, back and shelves. I have used wash on several pieces, including the kitchen cabinet, and the secret is, as with so many other things, patience. You may think that if you use diluted paint one coat will be enough, but it isn't. To have a nice wash effect you need three to four coats. But it's worth while.

This assembly also had to dry overnight, which left me with doors. Now, I know that I am profoundly stupid when it comes to three-dimensional thinking. Trigonometry was my worst subject in school, and I cannot do any 3D puzzles. So I spent a very, very long time trying to figure out how to assemble the doors. The instruction is very simple, and I looked at the picture, and I just didn't get it. I was about to appeal to my Chippendale group companion, but then I happened to turn a part upside down, and it all became clear. This keeps happening to me all the time.

 

Again, based on previous mistakes I remembered to check the pin holes so that I quite correctly ended up with one left and one right door.

The next step in the instructions was to assemble the front frame, which felt tricky, as I was sure it would break when I lifted it.

 

As you probably see I use a plastic chopping board as work surface so that the assembly doesn't stick. And I managed to lift it and glue on to the cabinet.

 

This felt good, until I tested the doors and found that they were a millimetre taller than the frame.  A millimetre is a huge error in this scale.

 

There could be two reasons for this. Firstly, the parts didn't fit. This does not happen with these kits, they are precision-cut. Therefore it was my fault; I had obviously done something wrong.

It was quite late in the evening, and I couldn't cope with it. Instead, I put the cabinet on top of the base and pretended that I had simply finished for the day.

 

Then I went to bed. And as a good storyteller, I will keep you in suspense so that you come back to read the rest of the story.



To be continued.