In this article we will be looking at the polissoir. These were commonly used tools for applying finishes to furniture and musical instruments.
The polissoir, by Roubo
A wax finish does not necessarily denote a matt finish.
The late 18th-century portrait paintings by the American John Singleton Copley often depict a sitter next to a table or a piece of furniture. In the majority of Copley’s paintings, the sitter’s image is reflected in the furniture’s top, suggesting that the furniture was finished to a high level of gloss.
It is generally believed that the primitive nature of 18th-century materials would have precluded a wax finish. However, the practice of achieving gloss on 18th-century furniture may have been much greater than first assumed. Anyone experimenting with wax will know that it is a difficult finish to apply; for a successful application, you must first consider how much to apply, and how hard or soft the wax should be. The secret of a good application is the thickness of the wax; too much and the surface remains tacky, not enough and the coverage is poor with application marks. The quality of the wax will also affect the end result as will the solvent to wax ratio.
Roubo’s recommendation
To ease application, Roubo recommended the use of what is called in French a ‘polissoir’ – a wax burnisher used both for application and for burnishing the wax finish. Roubo describes the polissoir well, albeit briefly, on plate 296, figures 8 and 9 and on page 859, section III (1774 French edition).
Unfortunately for English readers, the 2013 translation To Make as Perfectly as Possible by Donald C. Williams contains some errors, and one of these relates to the polissoir. As a result, the wrong type of polissoir is now being made and marketed in the USA. This criticism is not meant to detract from the mammoth achievement of Don Williams and the authors of this translation. However, to fully appreciate the potential of the polissoir, it needs to be re-visited. In an interesting parallel, Roubo in 1774 already knew of cabinetmakers who were not using the correct material to make the polissoir, and wrote that other materials were ‘pas bon’ (not good).
These materials often result in the marquetry lifting, as they overheat the surface and the animal glue used to adhere the marquetry. Roubo described the ideal polissoir as ‘un faisceau de jonc ordinaire’ – in translation a ‘sheaf or bundle of common rushes’. Rushes are also known as Juncus, and are commonly found in wetlands. Rushes vary in size and, in my experience, the best results are achieved by using tall rushes found growing in small rivers (some compensation for a bad day fishing is the accumulation of rushes collected while wading in the river). Despite the brevity of information Roubo accorded to the description of the polissoir, he puts great emphasis on the use of the correct material, and stresses the importance of using rushes rather than any other reed or straw.
Wetland rushes are entirely different to the corn grass or broom straw used by Don Williams and in the commercially available American polissoir. Common rushes have a soft foam-like interior and a relatively thin external wall. Growing in wet sandy conditions, common rushes are also believed to contain other beneficial minerals.
How to make a polissoir
Making your own polissoir is very straightforward, once you’ve identified which rushes have the correct natural properties. The polissoir can be made as follows: cut common rushes into 200mm lengths; dry them and fasten a handful of dried lengths together with cord. Once the bundle is securely bound, soak the polissoir in melted wax of any type (my favourite wax is 1/3 shellac or carnauba and 2⁄3 beeswax). Thanks to the porous nature of the rushes’ culms, the wax is absorbed along the bundle. Once the polissoir has cooled down and the wax hardened, saw the end off the bundle and then smooth the end with rough sandpaper. I make different sizes of polissoir, as I like to have some with a small diameter that can better access recesses and corners on my furniture.
Using the wax-impregnated polissoir is very easy, but also very physically demanding. The flat end of the polissoir is rubbed over the wood surface, but you need to apply considerable pressure and energy. Sufficient heat must be generated to warm the wax and force it into the pores of the wood filling the grain with wax. If necessary, some extra wax can be added at the same time. Witnesses are often amazed by the quality of the burnish and the speed that the wood can be finished.
When I first learnt French polishing, I was taught that ‘you cannot have a good polish without a good grain filling’. I still adhere to this advice. I therefore religiously sand the surface as thoroughly as possible with pumice powder so that the grain is filled prior to applying the French polish. However, the polissoir technique works virtually to perfection, even on open grain timber and even if poorly prepared. The success of the polissoir is clearly down to the mineral content of the rushes. The rushes appear to be slightly abrasive, and the combined wax plus abrasion clearly helps fill the grain. Inevitably, the polissoir will leave some application marks, however, those can be removed by polishing the surface with a clean cloth, if necessary adding a little more wax to the surface at the same time.
Wax surfaces finished in this way are durable and easy to maintain. Wax can easily be added at any time on the surface and burnished back to a fairly high gloss level, depending on the wax used. Although Don Williams apparently achieved great results, my own experience of a corn grass polissoir compared to a rush polissoir has demonstrated that the rush version is far superior. This reinforces my belief that, once again, Roubo (preferably in its original version) is the most reliable source for anyone studying 18th-century furniture traditions, and can teach us much that is relevant today.
Unfinished surfaces like the one in the photo are, of course, not recommended for fine cabinet manufacture. But this picture illustrates that, even on very poorly finished timber, a wax polissoir will work its miracle. The waxing and polishing happens almost immediately, no oil or grain filling being necessary.
Summary
If you really want to dive into the shoes of an 18th century furniture polisher, have a go at making and using your own Polissoir. It’s good fun. The satisfaction of working with raw natural materials adds an authenticity – almost as if you could forget what century you’re in; that you’ve been cast back to a former epoch of grace and serenity. Furthermore, there is no doubt that a Polissoir gives a certain rustic charm to any well-laboured finish. One that is inimitable by more modern and efficient tools. So, if you’d like a visceral experience of what it was like to be A.J. Roubo, polishing furniture in the 18th century, there really is no better way.