If access to wood (or lumberyard anxiety) is what’s holding you back from making a stick chair or Dutch tool chest, here’s an excellent solution: Alexander Brothers is now offering full kits for several types of stick chairs (in a selection of species), as well as blanks for legs, seat and more. Plus, there’s a new kit for the Dutch tool chest in pine, cherry or walnut (and the parts come ready .
We’ve ordered from Alexander Bros a number of times now, and are always impressed with how carefully Shea Alexander and his employees pick the chair stock for straightness of the grain and overall beauty. And I am impressed with how lovely the pine was for a recent Dutch tool chest class. In other words, you can trust that you’ll get good stuff.
NB: We do not receive any royalty or kickback on the sales of these kits – we’re just happy Shea is willing to do them. It’s a nice service for those who need help sourcing/choosing/milling wood. (Heck – I’m buying DTC kits from Shea for my February 2025 class, because I’m not going to have time to make them myself – one less worry for me. Thank you, Shea!)
The curators (one is standing in the rear of the photo) were pleasantly bemused by us.
I love books, photos and drawings, but if you want to quickly learn a lot about making and designing chairs, there is one path: Study the suckers in person every chance you get. Up close and slowly.
Last week, Welsh chairmaker Chris Williams arranged for me and some friends to study four old stick chairs in the collection at the Carmarthenshire Museum. Only one of these chairs was currently on display, so it was a chance to see some chairs that aren’t in the public eye. In addition to Chris and me, we had Megan Fitzpatrick, Kale Vogt, Ryan Saunders plus Tim and Betsan Bowen of Tim Bowen Antiques. Lots of eyes, both fresh and old.
This entry is a close look at these four chairs, and some of what I learned from them. There’s no way this blog entry can replicate my in-person experience. But it’s cheaper than a trip to Wales. Note, I didn’t take measurements of these chairs, so don’t bother asking for them. For me, the proportions and angles are far more important than eighths of an inch.
The short sticks were the first thing we investigated.
Brown Comb-back
This is a massive and well-proportioned chair that has a low stance and some curious details.
Let’s start with the obvious: it has only two short sticks holding up the armbow. That’s a rare configuration for a comb-back, so we immediately took a closer look. The thick brown-yellow paint (one of several colors) didn’t show any evidence of missing short sticks. But turning the chair over showed us the truth.
Though the underside of the arm was painted, raking light from a flashlight showed evidence of at least two more sticks that were missing under each arm. This was a relief in some ways, as the single stick under the hand was tempting me to try something stupid in a future chair.
Here you can see how the seat and arm curve inward toward the front of the seat. Also, note the two different hand shapes.
Next, we looked at the seat. Despite what I’ve seen in the past, I’m always surprised by how thick the seats on these chairs can be. I’ve seen them as thick as 3”. This one is a full 2” thick, with a generous bevel on the front of the chair that lightens the visual load (the “vertically striped shirt” of the chair world).
The seat looked like a typical D-shaped seat until we took a look from the rear of the chair. The sections of a D-shaped seat that are usually straight weren’t straight. They curved in toward the front edge of the seat.
When we looked at the shape of the armbow, this made sense. The armbow also curved inward toward the front of the chair. Many Welsh chairs begin with an arm shape, with the seat shape flowing from that. Perhaps the arm was made from a curved branch. Perhaps not. The paint wasn’t telling.
Other interesting details: The hands of the arm were not identical. This happens more than you might think. I don’t think the builder intentionally made two separate hands. I suspect that the hand shapes were determined by the wood itself, its defects or voids.
Note the repair on the arm – a common feature on these chairs and nothing to be ashamed of.
The legs were shaved round – you could still feel the facets.
A straight-on shot of the comb (you’re welcome).
My favorite part of this chair is the playful comb. Its basic shape is common: two Mickey Mouse-like ears on the ends with a raised area between them. But the chair’s builder went further. The ends have a delightful cove on the underside. And the top of the comb has a nice convex curve. The whole thing looks like a crown.
Despite the bark on the front seat, this is a well-considered chair.
Lowback
This tidy lowback has some secrets, some of which we were able to suss out.
First, look at the front edge of the seat. Yup, that’s bark. Wide boards have always been difficult to come by, so they didn’t waste any width on this one.
Evidence of a replaced stick.
The front posts were curious. They looked more English or West Country to my eye. They were joined to the chair with square mortise-and-tenon joints, while the rest of the joints in the chair were cylindrical. A close look under the arm showed us the shadow of a round mortise behind the square front posts. Likely the front posts are a replacement.
Also curious: None of the tenons for the short sticks poke through the armbow. They’re all blind. This feature is isn’t unique to this chair. It got me thinking how the mortises were drilled when the chair was built.
All the mortises through the seat were through-mortises – not blind. I think there’s a chance that some of the mortises were drilled from below the seat and then directly into the arm. The sticks all seem to lean back the same amount. So, it’s possible. Who knows?
Nice shoe. Some would call this a “swan’s neck.“
Finally, take a look at the beautiful shoe. The detail on its ends – an ogee and fillet – are nicely proportioned. And the hands are also tidy. I think this chair was made by a skilled hand.
This piece deserves its own investigation.
Unusual Child’s Chair
The third chair is one I didn’t spend much time with because of its odd construction. You see this in chairs in Ireland and Scandinavia more than Wales. I kinda wonder if it’s an import. The turned legs and insanely thick seat added to its curious stance.
I forgot to ask the curators about the provenance on this chair. Perhaps that will give us some answers.
The charmer of the group (both the chair and Chris Williams).
The Best of the Bunch
The final chair in this group was my favorite (I wasn’t alone). All the details point to the fact it was made by a trained woodworker. The provenance of the chair supported this idea.
A clever and attractive stretcher arrangement.
First, take a look at the undercarriage. The side stretchers are tapered octagons. What is (somewhat) unusual is that they are ovals in cross-section. The stretchers are thicker than they are wide. It’s a trick that allows you to use a thicker tenon for the medial stretcher without adding bulk. I’ve seen this detail before, but not this well executed.
I’ll be stealing that idea.
The hands.
The hands on this chair aren’t identical, but they are close and crisply executed.
Compared to the other chairs in this group, the rake and splay of the legs is dramatic, adding to the overall dynamic stance of the chair. Also, take a look at the long sticks and the comb. The long sticks splay out perfectly. When paired with the undercarriage, the chair has an attractive hourglass shape.
Note how the arm is attached (and another shot of the undercarriage).
The most unusual aspect of the chair is its front posts. They’re tenoned into the arm but then lapped onto the seat and reinforced with screws. It’s another of the joiner-like touches on this chair that points to a trained maker.
This chair is the one the museum has on display for the public. I agree with their choice. This is a special chair.
You can now order the carefully chosen wooden parts needed for the Hobbit-y Chair from The Stick Chair Journal No. 2. The kits are $295 and are in red elm, my favorite chairmaking wood.
You can order a kit here from Alexander Brothers in Virginia. Shea Alexander and his employees have been supplying me with chair wood for almost a year now, and I am really happy with the stock they pick, both for straightness of the grain and overall beauty.
We do not receive any royalty or kickback on the sales of these kits. Shea was willing to do them, and we consider it a service for people who live in areas where wood is difficult to purchase, or where the woodworker isn’t confident in choosing their wood.
Two new stick chairs. The one on the left was built by a student. The one on the right is mine.
I’ve never shown my work in a gallery. I’ve been asked a few times, but my problem is this: I don’t want to give up 50 percent of the sales price to the gallery. I’d rather skip the glory of cheese and boxed wine in plastic cups and sell my work direct.
But gallery shows are fun. And you get to see a lot of interesting work. So we are going to put on our own show on Saturday, Nov. 23, at our Willard Street storefront. And it’s going to be a little different.
The Chair Show will show my chairmaking arc (and my influences) over a 21-year span. There will be an original John Brown Cardigan chair, a Chris Williams four-stick Welsh stick chair, plus an original Welsh antique I bought from chairmaker John Porritt.
I’ll be showing my first chair, plus some other waypoints on the journey – my first lowback, the chair from “The Anarchist’s Design Book” and some prototypes.
Plus, I’ll have some new chairs to sell. These will be priced at the low end of my typical range.
Here’s the fun part: You’ll be able to touch, study and measure all of them. And you’ll be able to sit in all of them (with one exception – the Welsh antique needs a repair).
Like all our Open Days, we’ll have our complete line of books and tools here, plus blemished books for sale and some tools, too. Megan will be on hand to sign her new book “Dutch Tool Chests.” And Wally will accept your petting. The show will be from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Nov. 23 at 837 Willard St. in Covington, Kentucky 41011.
Steve lines up the stick (taped to the drill) with the mortise location on the side stretcher.
I cut dovetails pretty much the exact same way I did 20 years ago. Same layout, same sawing, same chiseling, same fitting. But when it comes to my chairmaking, things seem to change every day.
I’ve been building stick chairs since 2003 (and frame chairs since 1997). So it’s not like I am new to the chairmaking craft. But for some reason, I am constantly finding new and usually small ways to make things easier.
When I wrote “The Stick Chair Book,” I thought I was pretty much settled in how I make my chairs. But by the time we had to reorder the second printing, I decided to revise the book. Not in major ways, but in many little minor ways. And I added a lot of little shortcuts I had discovered.
Now, about a year after releasing the revised edition of “The Stick Chair Book,” I’d like to revise it again for the next printing. Again, nothing major, just small things here and there that make it easier to drill and assemble things.
Even today, I came up with a stupid little trick that really helped. Here it is. When drilling the mortises for the stretchers, tape a stick or skewer or chopstick to the centerline seam of your drill. It helps immeasurably in lining up the drill between the mortises in the legs and between the mortises in the side stretchers.
I’ve seen lots of tricks that use rubber bands or lasers. But none is as simple as taping a scrap to the drill.
When the scrap is aligned with both mortises, Steve drills the mortise in the side stretcher.
As a chairmaker and author, I know I’m not alone in the way I feel about my past writings. Many other chairmakers are constantly finding new ways to make the process a little easier.
Why have we not created the “Unified Method of All Chairmaking?” Because there are at least 100 ways to make a chair. And 1,000 tricks that go with each method.
This is one of the things I love about woodworking – the constant discovery. But it can be frustrating both as an author and a reader.
