Tag: Preservation

  • O’Kane Notebook XI: Demeritt Notebook?

    Weather-joined Sheathing
    Weather-joined Sheathing

    When I embarked upon a career in wood, I wondered whether I should become a furniture-maker, and construct finely joined objects of beauty, or build houses, which provide a lot more utility to people.  I soon found that it was a false dichotomy; working in preservation, I can work on buildings that are constructed like furniture.  On the building we’ve been referring to as “The O’Kane House,” I’ve written previously on the finely-proportioned trim, and the stoutly-joined frame.  Even the sheathing is weather-joined, creating a water-tight envelope, and the windowsills are grooved on the bottom to sit down tight over the sheathing.  The carpentry employed at O’Kane isn’t ostentatious, but every day I am inspired by the craftsmanship employed at each phase of its building.

    Given this gushing, we think that carpenter deserves some credit.  “The O’Kane House” is a bit of a misnomer.  For a long time, the building UNH now calls the O’Kane House was referred to as “The Demeritt House” in reference to the Demeritt family who built it, and lived on the land for more than 200 years.

    In July of 2001, Jim Garvin*, the New Hampshire state historian, wrote an Individual Inventory for the NH Division of Historical Resources for the Demeritt House, one of the steps for applying for its placement on the National Register of Historic Places.  In reading the report, I expected a bureaucratic list of dry historical attributes, but discovered instead a well-crafted narrative exploring the house’s former residents and their relationship to its architectural significance.  I encourage anyone who has been interested in the O’Kane House to read the whole report, here.

    The house was built for Israel Demeritt in 1808, on land that had been granted to his Great-grandfather, Eli Demeritt, before 1700.  Israel inherited the land from his father, Captain Samuel Demeritt, and replaced his father’s two story house with the one we so recently dismantled.  It was likely built by his brother Nathaniel Demeritt (1751-1827), a joiner who is known to have built a neighboring house with his son, the Rev. William Demeritt in 1819.

    If Nathaniel was indeed the builder, there were architectural consequences.  First of all, by 1808, Nathaniel would have been 57 years old, which explains why the house is so conservative in its layout and plan.  The center chimney and first floor layout resembles other houses that began to appear in coastal Maine and New Hampshire shortly after 1700 (pg. 98 A Building History of Northern New England).  

    Floor Plan, two-room deep house, by James Garvin
    Floor Plan, two-room deep house, from A Building History…, by James Garvin

    Conversely, the interior trim is far more contemporary and heavily influenced by Asher Benjamin.  The casings in the front entry are elaborate, and Garvin’s report cites Plate 1 of The Country Builder’s Assistant and Plate 11 of The American Builder’s Companion as possible influences.  I found a couple other possibilities in my copy of The American Builder’s Companion: in the top left corner of Plate 27 of  is an example of a cornice that is very similar to the crown in the second floor front hall, and Plate 35 illustrates an example of reeding similar to that found in the Blue Chamber.  I don’t own a copy of the Country Builder’s Assistant, but Nathaniel Demeritt did!  His name is written in a second edition housed at the New Hampshire Historical Society in Concord.  Concord readers (Hi, Mom and Dad!) go check it out.

    First Floor, Demeritt-O'Kane House
    First Floor, Demeritt-O'Kane House

    Nathaniel Demeritt’s age and life experience determined the design of his brother’s house.  His commitment to traditional techniques determined that the house was stoutly built, but his openness to Asher Benjamin’s new forms and proportions allowed him to trim it out in a style that was lasting.  People often ask me to define “preservation carpentry” and my stock answer cites our use of traditional joinery and appropriate techniques.  I mention that as Preservation Carpenters, we still get to work on houses (and barns, and steeples) that are built like furniture, which is something that can’t often be said of contemporary buildings.  But one of the best parts of preservation, and something that I have tried to express through the O’Kane Notebook posts, is the connection to builders like Nathaniel Demeritt.  He faced so many of the choices and challenges we still face today, and it is satisfying to uncover tangible examples of his decisions in the Demeritt House.  Demeritt relied upon proven tradition to help him design a sturdy, lasting frame, and watertight sheathing, but he also made room for innovation, and style, and took inspiration from the pages of Asher Benjamin’s books.  In rebuilding the Demeritt House, we will face a similar dilemma.  We have committed ourselves to using traditional techniques to repair and rebuild the remaining 85% of original material, but we face choices with regard to those couple of rooms that contained no original material, and will be needed for modern conveniences.  We can only hope that we will be as successful as Nathaniel Demeritt in building new rooms of lasting style.

    *Jim Garvin wrote A Building History of Northern New England, which I previously referenced here, here and here.  Meeting him was a real thrill for me.  He is as nice as he is a great writer, two things that don’t always go hand in hand.

     

  • A River Runs Through Freedom Mill

    Since April, Ed, Lee, Reese, Chuck, Jesse, Shawn and Arron have been laboring to restore the undercarriage of the Mill at Freedom Falls (c. 1834).  The crew faced a number of obstacles: one corner of the building had dropped more than 10 inches out of level, and a stream that once powered the turbine still runs between the granite walls of the foundation.  Stabilization of the structure required building staging around and on top of the works of the turbine, 16-20 feet above the rushing water.   After stabilizing the building and the cutting the repairs, the crew was tasked with installing 12″ x 16″ hemlock timbers of lengths up to 22 feet over this:

    Check back soon for more photos of Freedom.

  • O’Kane Crane Day

    Yesterday was the first day we had a crane on site to help dismantle the O’Kane house frame.  I don’t think the day could have gone more smoothly, all thanks to a great crew, and crane operator Frank Donahue.

    Rigging the rafters
    Rigging the rafters
    Rafter pair, flying.
    Rafter pair, flying.

    Thank you, Kendra, for all the pictures.  Check back soon for more.

  • O’Kane Notebook X: Guest Writer Chappy Cox

    A Window Apart
    A Window Apart, photo by Brian Cox

    Brian Cox is managing the removal and inventory of the O’Kane windows, and he sends us the following report:

    As the O’Kane house continues to be examined, documented, and carefully disassembled, the windows in the ell have begun to be removed.  They were previously photographed, measured, and assigned an alpha-numeric designation consistent with other elements.

    Window Disassembly sheet
    Window Disassembly sheet

    There are thirteen windows in the one-story ell.  Of these, ten are nine-over-six, double-hung sash.  The rails and stiles are of a mortise-and-tenon joinery construction, with these joints being secured with pegs.  The sash has and plain, or flush, meeting rail and the lower, moveable/operable sash has a lock on the stile.  The muntin joinery varies, sometimes the vertical elements run long, from rail to rail, other times the horizontal muntins run long, from stile to stile.  Each variation has been noted in a window disassembly sheet (above).

    Wrought Nails in Jamb
    Wrought Nails in Jamb, photo by Brian Cox

    The jambs of the windows are held together using half-lap joinery in conjunction with wrought nails.  One detail worth noting is the construction of the jambs and sill.

    Jamb and Sill Joinery, photo by Brian Cox
    Jamb and Sill Joinery, photo by Brian Cox

    The sill and jamb create a “rabbet/cog”, where the jamb has a portion of the wood removed, allowing the sheathing to be captured by the jamb and sill.  The sills measure 2”x3” at the long point.  This supports a casing made of flat stock with an applied backband detail.  This detail varies slightly in that on the “B” wall it is of one piece.  On the “D” wall, the top profile of the backband is separate.  On top of this element is a wooden flashing detail, shaped like an “L” in profile, which the clapboard overlaps.

    Stud markings on sheathing
    Stud markings on sheathing, photo by Brian Cox

    The windows were fastened through the casing only; there were no fasteners through the jambs going into the studs.  Each window had approximately one dozen wrought nails holding it in place.  The windows were removed by carefully using a pry bar to loosen the casing nails, tilting the entire window frame out of the rough opening and then lifting the frame off of the sheathing.  The sheathing has a weather joint and the joints have less than a ¼” gap between adjoining sheathing boards; in many cases, the gap is much smaller.  The sheathing has an etched marking where the vertical casing elements exist and a series of “x” marks are visible, noting the locations of the studs.

    More on sheathing in an upcoming post…

     

  • O’Kane Notebook IX: Down, Cape, DOWN!

    Dave, Jim, Scott and Andrew, dismantling rafters, with Pete represented by the lull forks
    Dave, Jim, Scott and Andrew, dismantling rafters, with Pete represented by the lull forks

    Over the past month, an injection of new blood has invigorated the dismantling process. Not only have we three new Maine Preservation interns; Dave Ewing, Andrew Cushing and Noah Kerr, but Jim and Kendra, two clutch workers, to boot.  Brian Cox has been on site, managing the inventorying and dismantling of the windows (stay tuned for his upcoming window article) and Pete Dellea has been working his lull magic.  The eager crew dismantled the entire cape ell one full week ahead of schedule.  We can only hope that the rain stays away, and the house comes down as smoothly.

    The Neat Stuff Update:

    Dragon Spikes!

    Dragon Spike
    Dragon Spike

    These spikes were used to pin the main house and ell frames together.  There were seven spikes in all, one in a rafter, one in the front gable tie, and five distributed between a corner post and a beefy stud.

    Scott and Dave, Vanquishing the Dragon Spike
    Scott and Dave, Vanquishing the Dragon Spike

    Using levers, and some brute force, the rafter, post and stud were able to be pried, preserving master smithery.  The spike that did need cutting was in the gable tie beam, which needed to be lifted straight up, and could not be pried out.  It took six sawzall blades,  ground to nubs, to cut through that unlucky nail.

    Half Doves!

    Tie Beam to Plate Joinery
    Tie Beam to Plate Joinery

    For those non-timber-framers out there, a half dovetail is just like the first dovetail in a drawer, with one straight side, and one slanted one.  The geometry that a drawer-dovetail employs in order to resist the outward pull of the drawer front is the same geometry that is used in buildings; the half dovetail in a tie beam is resisting the outward thrust created by rafters.

    Half dovetailed tie beam (with trunnel hole) and two adjacent joists
    Half dovetailed tie beam (with trunnel hole) and two adjacent joists

    In most English barns, only the tie beams have a half-dovetail joint on the end, and the attic joists half-lap over the plate.

    Attic Joists, Upside Up and Upside Down, photo by Noah Kerr
    Attic Joists, Upside Up and Upside Down, photo by Noah Kerr

    In this building, every one of the attic joists had a half-dovetail joint, which helps to explain why these buildings stayed so square and straight for more than 200 years.

    Teasel tenons!

    Post hacked back, revealing mortise and pin that used to hold teasel tenon
    Post hacked back, revealing mortise and pin that used to hold teasel tenon

    In an English tie joint, the tie beam cogs over the plate with the aforementioned half dove.  The tie beam is also connected to the post directly below it, by means of a teasel tenon.  The confluence of so much joinery at the top of one post, i.e. tenon into plate AND tenon into tie beam, results in most posts flaring at the top, to as much as 11 1/2 inches in the case of the O’Kane house.

    Two Mortises, One Plate, photo by Noah Kerr
    Two Mortises, One Plate, photo by Noah Kerr

    One tenon runs parallel with the eave of the house, and inserts into a mortise in the plate, (pictured directly above), and the other tenon runs perpendicular to the plate, parallel to the tie beam, and extends from the interior plane of the flared post.  This tenon inserts into a mortise on the underside of the tie beam. If that’s difficult to imagine, a few of the posts in the O’Kane ell were shaved back, revealing the innards of teasel tenon joinery (previous photo, above).

    Interns!

    Andrew and Kendra, preserving wrought nails
    Andrew and Kendra, preserving wrought nails

    We are fortunate to have been blessed with so many terrific Maine Preservation interns, as well as interns from North Bennett Street School and other interns with an unaffiliated, but unabashed interest in preservation.  They are always eager to learn and participate, as well as share their varied knowledge and experiences.  Thanks to interns past and present for your indelible contributions.

    Please peruse the slideshow below for more photos of our process:

  • O’Kane Notebook VIII: Joinery, Exposed!

    Room 101 (The Pink Parlor), Wall D, Photo by John Butler
    Room 101 (The Pink Parlor), Wall D, Photo by John Butler

    On Friday, Scott finished removing the trim from the Pink Parlor, pictured above.  I had eagerly anticipated the joinery surrounding the fireplace, given our recent work on another fireplace surround.  The displaced surround, turned upside-down, is below:

    Pink Parlor Surround Turned Upside Down
    Pink Parlor Surround Turned Upside Down

    When I think about the era in which this house was built, in a relatively new country, with newly earned independence, it can feel very foreign to me.  I struggle to understand the mindset of these post-colonial carpenters.  But when I see the joinery detail below, and a fireplace surround constructed nearly the same way I’d construct it today, I feel much closer and more connected with our region’s history.   I realize that we are still a young country, and in the context of the rest of the world, this is a pretty young house.  The importance of preservation is emphasized not simply because the house is “old,” but because so much hard work went into constructing it.

    Mid Rail and Stile Joinery
    Mid Rail and Stile Joinery

    Oh, and the stiles were buried deep, just like in the Blue Room.

    Buried Stile
    Buried Stile

    For more photos of last week’s progress, click on the slideshow, below:

  • O’Kane Notebook VII: the Pink Parlor

    Dan and Pete washing the Pink Parlor floor
    Dan and Pete washing the Pink Parlor floor

    On Tuesday, Dan was removing southern yellow pine flooring in a room we’ve dubbed “the Pink Parlor.”  As an earlier layer of flooring was uncovered, he detected beneath the scrim of sand and dust a pattern in the mottled finish.  A little washing revealed a fine stenciling.

    Stenciling Detail
    Stenciling Detail

    Scott had also been working on dismantling the Pink Parlor, and discovered some craftsmanship that has made me re-think a hasty declaration about the best way to field panels

    Fielded Wall Panel
    Fielded Wall Panel

    The crisp beveled edges of these raised panels are beautiful.  It’s hard to believe that this was the back face, appreciated by the carpenter alone.  Large panels need to have a certain amount of thickness for stability, but their edges must be narrow in order to fit into a groove that runs along the inner edges of the stiles and rails.  At O’Kane, we have discovered a variety of techniques for relieving that edge, each one more impressive than the last.

    Wall Panel Detail
    Wall Panel Detail

    When we were first assessing the room, and removing the plaster, many of us thought that the wall beneath the chair rail was finished in plaster, because the wall section was so wide, and smooth.  In our day and age, it is hard to believe that a 24 inch, 17 foot wall section could be composed of a single, clear board, but in this building’s day and age, that was entirely possible.

    Scott removing nails from wainscot panel
    Scott removing nails from wainscot panel

    The wainscot that Scott removed was 24 1/2 inches wide, tightly grained, and completely free of knots and defects.  Lain upon the horses, in the strafing light, the scallops left by the joiner’s plane were obvious.

    Wainscot Panels
    Wainscot Panels

    This is a limited selection of what we’ve revealed in the past week.  For more, see the slideshow below:

  • O’Kane Notebook VI: The Nuts and Bolts of No Nuts and Bolts

    Wall 105.A, Outlined.
    Wall 105.A, Outlined. Photo by John Butler

    This is post about a persnickety process:

    After a piece of trim is removed from an O’Kane wall, it is taken over to a photograph of that wall and traced with a fine tip marker.  The dis-assembler then writes a description of the piece on the item list for that wall and assigns it an item number.  The room number, wall letter and item number are written on a piece of masking tape, which is affixed to the upper left, backhand corner of the piece.  The piece is carefully de-nailed, and then a final “acquisition” number is etched into a patch of white shellac using a Dremel tool.  The piece is wrapped in shrink wrap  with his cohorts, and tightly stacked in an assiduously organized, and mapped trailer.  I have just finished re-tracing all the photographs of those walls which have been completely denuded.  The results, below:

  • O’Kane Notebook V: Pulvinated Panels!

    Blue Parlor Fireplace, photo by John Butler
    Blue Parlor Fireplace, photo by John Butler

    Before it was dismantled, the fireplace in O’Kane’s Blue Parlor got a lot of attention.  It is a simple-looking surround, with a single large panel above and an applied mantle, but it’s a good representation of the vernacular style from its era.  Aside from a little bit of backband added in a Greek Revival-era renovation, the surround was intact, and allowed a visitor to feel transported in time.  While I found the piece pleasing aesthetically, I didn’t fully appreciate the workmanship until it was dismantled, revealing another chapter in the story of this building.

    After Scott removed the adjacent paneling, and had cut or pulled the wrought nails attaching it to the wooden lintels, we realized that removing the surround wouldn’t be so easy.  The stiles on either side of the panel and fireplace opening extended past the first layer of brick, but we could never have guessed just how deeply.  After removing a piece of subfloor and digging into crumbled clay mortar, we found that the stiles extended below the surface of the subfloor by 8 inches.  Eight Inches!

    Eight Inches!

    We haven’t found anything like this elsewhere in the building, and, based on the adjacent wall paneling, which went no deeper than the first layer of flooring, there is no reason to think that the original floor was eight inches lower.  My theory is this: while the frame was being fit, joiners were cutting this and the other frame & panel walls (joinery shots, below). As soon as the frame was erected and sheathed, joiners installed this surround first so that this hearth could warm and feed the carpenters as they finished the rest of the house.

    Surround Down

    After digging out the stiles, we carefully laid the surround onto a specialized piece of preservation equipment called a Trash Can, and then we discovered something AWESOME.

    Pulvinated Backside

    A Pulvinated Panel!  I have a thing for pulvinated, or “breasted” panels (would an analyst draw some connection between my interest and being a woman in a male-dominated field?)  I have loved them ever since I first encountered them at Hancock Shaker Village on a NBSS class trip.  At Hancock, the technique is seen on the front of the panel, and elsewhere, it seems to refer largely to friezes.  I just think it is The Number One Most Elegant Way to field a panel, and ought to be used more often,  and visibly.  It is appealing to me how present the crafts-person is in this method of shaping a panel.  The curve is shaped by his eye and hand, rather than a combination square.  To me, the process is nearer to the construction of a chair than that of the austere wall panel.

    Pulvinated Panel at Hancock Shaker Village
    Pulvinated Panel at Hancock Shaker Village

    Given that the back of the panel we found was mostly rough, and totally invisible, the gently curved backside was not really where this crafts-person showed his stuff.  That was in the triple stub tenon we found in the wide bottom rail, and the double tenon up top.  The joinery involved is partly what leads us to believe that the surround may have been made ahead of time, off-site.

    Triple Tenon

    To see more photos of our process click on the slideshow, below

  • O’Kane Notebook IV: The Ghost Pantry

    Blue Parlor Wall, Dismantled
    Blue Parlor Wall, Dismantled. Photo by John Butler

    One of the first treasures we uncovered at O’Kane was a wall of horizontal featheredge sheathing painted in bright yellow.  It was hidden behind plaster in the Blue Parlor, and had shadow lines delineating where once there were shelves.  Where the boards terminate, on the left side, we think there was originally a wall, creating three rooms in the back half of the house.  Two smaller rooms flanked the Blue Parlor with its large central hearth.  The yellow paneling probably turned the corner, creating a pantry in what was originally the kitchen, given the large fireplace.  Throughout the house, we have continued to find boards and shards in the same chrome yellow, used as padding and strapping.  This helps to the date those walls, and solve the mystery of the house’s original layout.

    New Wall, Old Panelling

     

    Pictured above is the paneled wall that we uncovered in the room directly above the Blue Parlor.  The right portion of the paneled wall is original, and you can make out the hinges from the original door opening on the second panel from the right.  The door opening was filled with one wide, nondescript board and a board with the same chrome yellow paint and shadow lines.  During one period of renovation, this yellow pantry board was probably taken from the partition wall downstairs and installed upstairs to create what became a UNH student’s bedroom.

    We have found other pieces of this doorway elsewhere in that upstairs bedroom.  In the closet, the head casing was being used as a shelf cleat, allowing us to determine the width of the original door.  Time and again during the dismantling process, we are reminded to be thankful for that Yankee thrift.

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