Ben Adams: Seat of Learning

Ben Adams completes the final assembly of the bar stool before wedging the seat tenons.

Words and process photos: Ben Adams
Illustrations: Graham Sands

From its inception as a client commission to its evolution into a repeatable product, this bar stool design represents a culmination of everything I’d learned on my furniture-making journey up to that point. It also nudged my business in a new and unexpected direction – though not in the way you might think. Let me explain.

A significant leap in my furniture making practice came in late 2023 when I took a chairmaking class with Bern Chandley. That experience completely transformed my relationship with hand tools. Among the many techniques I learned were how to properly use a spokeshave, what a scraper actually does, and – most appropriately – how to carve a chair seat.

I had clumsily carved a seat-like depression into one of my three-legged milking stools once before, using a gouge and an angle grinder. You can imagine how that looked. Learning a better way to carve smooth, sweeping curves was a completely different story. Shaping a seat with a tool designed specifically for the task was immensely satisfying. This was my first introduction to the travisher.

Fast forward to January 2025, when a client brief arrived that provided the perfect excuse to make a stool with a carved seat. The initial inspiration came from perch stools like the ones Jon Grant teaches, along with the many modern interpretations floating around online. My task was to adapt that form into a bar stool with a footrest.

The challenge was to use what I’d learned over a year earlier to shape a seat that felt modern and practical, while still referencing the traditions of the Windsor chairmakers of old. There was just one problem: I didn’t own a travisher.

The prototype seat was carved using a rusty old scorp and a scraper, and by the end of it I was growing impatient. I knew I wanted to make more than a couple of these stools, so one morning I woke up and defiantly declared, ‘Today I’m going to make a travisher.’ How hard could it be?

As it turns out – quite hard. But by the end of the day, I had two stunningly ugly travishers that were perfectly usable. Since then, I’ve refined that design and now make and sell travishers. This stool is incredibly fun to make and, like the perch stool, serves as an excellent introduction to Windsor chairmaking techniques.

Seat material and preparation

Ideally, I choose clear, straight-grained timber for the seat. I typically use Victorian ash, as it’s easy to work and often comes quartersawn. I usually glue up two 175mm wide boards, paying close attention to matching the grain orientation to ensure smooth hand tool work. It’s worth mentioning that I don’t use biscuits or dominos, as there’s always a risk of exposing them while carving the seat impression.

1. Hand tools for chairmaking – from top to bottom: scorp, travisher, spokeshave and drawknife.

Laid out in photo 1 are all the tools I use to shape the seat. After thicknessing the seat blank slightly oversize, I mark out the perimeter and all drilling lines on the top surface.

2. Holes in the seat for the legs are drilled in at an angle before shaping. A drill bit extension helps with accuracy.

Call me a cheater, but I use a laser level set to the correct angle to help guide the drill bit – a technique originated by US chairmaker Greg Pennington. This guarantees the legs end up splayed exactly where I want them. Using a long drill-bit extension further improves accuracy, though it does mean you’ll need to stand on a chair if you’re working at bench height. Luckily, you’re a chairmaker, so you should have one handy (photo 2).

3. Laser lines mark the spot – use a sharp brad-point or auger bit.

I set one laser at the desired resultant angle and a second laser perfectly vertical at 90° to the first. By keeping the drill bit aligned to both laser lines, accuracy is almost guaranteed (photo 3). A sharp brad-point or auger bit works best here, and a sacrificial sheet of plywood underneath prevents blow-out, or drilling into your beloved workbench for the twenty-third time.

Carving the seat

4. Using a scorp to initially remove bulk material from the seat.

Now comes the fun part (photo 4). A scorp is essentially a drawknife that’s been run over by a car: a curved blade with handles at either end. It takes some getting used to, but once you find the sweet spot – where the blade slices cleanly into the fibres and exits the cut with a slight wrist roll – it becomes incredibly efficient.

Skewing the blade and cutting perpendicular to the grain helps prevent tear-out. If things start to go wrong, skew the blade in the opposite direction. This tool removes bulk material quickly, albeit somewhat roughly.

5. The travisher is next used for shaping. The back edge is left flat until later.

I begin by forming a concave oval at the deepest part of the seat – directly under the sitter’s ischial tuberosities, or ‘sit bones’. I carve down to about 10mm from the top surface at the deepest point. Drilling two small, 10mm deep reference holes roughly 50mm apart in the centre of the oval helps gauge depth.

I avoid carving within about 15mm of the back edge of the seat, leaving that area flat (photo 5). This will become important later.

From here on, the travisher becomes the hero. It can take fine, controlled cuts or remove large amounts of waste with thick, curling shavings. Once the reference holes disappear, you know you’re deep enough.

6. The seat contours are progressively marked and shaped.

Next, I carve the area where the sitter’s legs will rest, blending it smoothly into the central bowl (photo 6). This is also a good time to cut the front perimeter of the seat in preparation for later steps. The area between the sitter’s legs remains untouched for now. Like a tractor seat, the front rise should be the highest point, so I leave it until last.

Defining the front profile

7. A template for profiling edge includes foolproof instructions.

Next, I carve away material to allow the sitter’s legs to pass comfortably through the front of the seat. While this can be done by eye, I prefer using a simple template to mark symmetrical curves on both sides of the centreline. (Note the highly sophisticated template I use in photo 7). Flipping the template ensures perfect symmetry.

8. The drawknife and spokeshave are used to shape the edge of the seat.

Most of this waste is removed with a drawknife and refined with a spokeshave (photo 8). I aim for this curve to dip down to about 20mm from the bottom edge of the seat.

9. With curves faired and blended, shaping the top of the seat is now complete.

Switching between tools, I then blend all the shapes together, fairing the curves until I’m happy with the form (photo 9). It’s easy to lose hours at this stage chasing perfection, but don’t get carried away, as final shaping happens after the legs are attached.

10. After bandsawing the outline, the bottom of the seat is planed and marked out.

After cutting the seat outline to final shape on the bandsaw and planing the underside to thickness, I mark a line roughly 22mm in from the perimeter on the underside using a simple finger gauge (photo 10). This line indicates where the underside curve should begin.

11. A drawknife and spokeshave are used to round over the underside.

Using a drawknife and spokeshave, I round over the underside (photo 11). That flat area left at the back now becomes invaluable as a clamping surface in the vice.

12. The flat area on top can now be bevelled with a spokeshave.

Once the underside is complete, the flat can be bevelled at a slight angle with a spokeshave (photo 12).

Turning the legs and stretchers

13. Showing three legs at different stages of completion.

Attention now turns to the legs. On the lathe, I mark all major diameter changes using calipers and a parting tool, cutting grooves to the required depths (photo 14). The remaining waste is removed with a roughing gouge or spindle gouge, using the grooves as reference points. Those with nerves of steel may choose to use a skew chisel.

14. Calipers and a parting tool are used to mark and cut grooves to mark diameter changes.

The tenon is the only critical dimension, so I work slowly and check the fit frequently. This design uses cylindrical tenons simply because I haven’t yet made myself a reamer (yet). If you have one and want to taper the tenons and mortises, go for gold.

I sand the legs on the lathe from 120 through to 400 grit, raising the grain with a light mist of water between grits. The stretchers are made in exactly the same way.

Assembly and glue-up

The stretcher mortises must be drilled at precise angles. Rather than measuring, I dry-fit the legs into the seat and drill the stretcher holes while everything is assembled. As long as the holes are drilled horizontally and aimed toward the centre of the corresponding leg, everything lines up nicely.

15. Using a laser to help drill the stretcher hole at 90°.

I tightly wrap tape around the legs to prevent tear-out and use a sharp brad-point bit at high speed with light pressure. Once again, the laser level comes out to maintain a perfectly horizontal drilling line 450mm below the seat (photo 15).

16. Aim the drill at the opposing leg to drill the other front stretcher hole.

The front stretcher passes through both front legs, so I simply aim the bit at the opposing leg and let the drill do the work (photo 16). The same approach is used to drill through the back leg toward the centre point of the front stretcher. It feels like you’re flying blind but just be brave and trust the process. You can do this.

17. Using a jig on the drill press to accurately drill a hole in the front stretcher.

The front (long) stretcher requires a perfectly 90° hole, and even half a degree off is noticeable. I find drilling this hole in a jig on the drill press ensures accuracy (photo 17).

18. Another simple jig is used to split and pare the wedges.

Each tenon receives a wedge to lock the joint together, so with all holes drilled, I dry-fit the stool, mark the wedge locations, and cut slots into the tenons. The wedges are split and pared using a simple jig: a scrap of wood with a shelf cut into it and held in the vice (photo 18). The wedge sits on the shelf, and body weight drives the chisel to create a consistent taper. 

19. Pre-assembly shot of completed components for the stool.

For glue-up, I first glue the two stretchers together. Final assembly involves gently persuading all the tenons home and driving wedges into each joint (photo 20). The tenons are cut flush and sanded.

Ben Adams’ bar stool in Victorian ash. Photo: Bryony Dux

Final shaping of the seat is done using the travisher, scrapers, and sandpaper. I finish the stool with a couple of coats of an oil finish, or if you’re feeling bold, a black Japan stain to really impress your friends.

First published in Australian Wood Review, issue 131, June 2026

Ben Adams is a furniture maker and toolmaker who works as an advocate in his local area of the Sunshine Coast to promote woodworking and other handmade crafts. Learn more at www.benadams.studio and Instagram @benadamsfurniture