One of the most difficult decisions I’ve made in my woodworking life was whether or not to teach classes in making stick chairs.
Chairmakers, as a bunch, are a lot like wizards. They all have masters who taught them their tricks, and they aren’t exactly in love with the methods used by other wizards who studied with other masters.
Lineage is important. And you have to work your way up. First, there’s the learning (apprenticeship). Then assisting (journeyman or journeywoman). Then – after serving your time or getting some sort of blessing – teaching others.
In this modern era of chairmaking, I don’t know if this weird ladder started with Mike Dunbar, but he certainly encouraged it among his community of Windsor chairmakers. Some of the hierarchy he created was comedic. Mike, his assistants and students would dress up in plastic armor and bestow titles upon each other. This wasn’t a secret. It was in every issue of The Windsor Institute’s school newsletter: Windsor Chronicles.
The ceremony began with King Mike’s personal piper, Fred Chellis descending the stairs playing The Institute’s hymn “All Hail to Thee Windsor.” Next, King Mike descended to his new theme music, selected for him by the College of Dukes. Mike’s new theme song is Bert Lahr singing “If I Were the King of the Forest” from the musical Wizard of Oz.
When the laughter over the King’s music had settled, the Knight candidate descended to the Knight’s theme music “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues. Dressed in his plastic amour breast plate, Mark blushed as he paused by the band saw for pictures. Next, he assumed the kneeling position before King Mike.
The King of Windsor then read the royal proclamation while Mark nervously looked on. King Mike presented Mark with his ceremonial sword, and placed his plastic helmet on his head.
Finally, came the moment everyone waits for – the Long Kiss. At this point the candidate seals his membership in the Royal Orders by kissing the large red glass bauble on King Mike’s left hand. It is called the Long Kiss, because it is traditional for the candidate’s classmates to drag it out as long as possible. The rule is that the candidate must keep lips on the bauble until everyone has had an opportunity to take pictures. It is amazing the schemes that classmates come up with to extend this moment.
They have to reload film. They have to run out to the car to find a camera. Meanwhile, the red-faced candidate holds the position with King Mike loudly advising that if the lips break contact with the ring, “We have to start all over again.”
— The Windsor Chronicles, Spring 2004
Beyond the armor, Mike and his supporters were trying to revive professional Windsor chairmaking in the U.S. The Windsor Institute supplied tools, training and chair parts, but it also supplied advice in both business and public relations.
Before you took a class with Mike, you had to sign a paper that said you wouldn’t ever teach the methods you learned. And Mike was much more serious about the paperwork than he was about his plastic swords.
That was my first frightening thought. I had taken a class in making a sackback chair with Mike in 2010, and I had signed the document. Was he going to cease-and-desist me if I started teaching people to make stick chairs?
Aside from that possible threat, there was also the community of stick chair makers to deal with. John Brown (the Don of Stick Chairs) wasn’t keen on published chair plans, and his teaching was infrequent and reluctant. In fact, the only training he gave to his long-time chairmaking partner, Chris Williams, was to allow Chris to watch him make a stick chair – once. After that, Chris had to figure out the rest himself (which he obviously did and went on to eclipse us all).
Like John Brown, Chris wasn’t keen on teaching1 or publishing plans. John Brown taught Chris that published plans were in opposition to the spirit of stick chairs. There shouldn’t ever be published plans for stick chairs, JB. said. Each person should work out the techniques for themself. Each new chairmaker should create their own designs. No two stick chairs should ever be alike.
Chris and I had long conversations about this topic. My point: Students must learn the basics somewhere. Then they can create their own designs. When I started chairmaking in 2003, I made two stick chairs under the eyes of teachers: one with Dave Fleming, and the other with Don Weber. After I made those chairs, I never made those forms again.
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