The Heron Flies Again!

This story began almost a year ago when I found this Tendo Mokko Heron rocking chair at a garage sale in Palo Alto. Many, many hours of work later – and after a significant financial investment – it joins the clan!

Tendo Mokko Heron rocking chair, following reupholstery in semi-aniline sage green leather.

Tendo Mokko Heron rocking chair, following reupholstery in semi-aniline sage-green leather.

The last time I posted on this project was in December of 2012, at which time I discussed the damage to and repair of the right frame. Soon thereafter, I removed the tired vinyl and foam upholstery, which looked something like this:

The upholstery material at the front of the seat is sewn to a foam and muslin backing with thirteen pleats at about a 3" spacing.

The upholstery material at the front of the seat is sewn to a foam and muslin backing with pleats at about a 3″ spacing.

Both the upholstery and straps are fastened to the frame with upholstery staples - as in hundreds of them.

Both the upholstery and straps are fastened to the frame with upholstery staples – hundreds of them.

The seat frame is constructed in much the same way as the leg and arm frames. Note the delamination on the  right side of seat frame.

The seat frame is constructed in much the same way as the leg and arm frames. Note the delamination on the right side of seat frame.

With the upholstery removed, it became evident that the seat frame exhibit damage similar to that of the adjacent leg and arm frame, and it was repaired in much the same way. For additional strength, I  drilled five .25″-diameter bores at 1.5″ spacing normal to and fully through the laminations along the apex of the seat bottom/seat back curve. At the openings on each side of the .25″-diameter bores I create a .5″ -deep, .5″-diameter cone with a countersinking bit. To help you visualize this, I effectively created five hourglass-shaped holes that ran from the back of the seat frame to the front of the seat frame at a spacing of 1.5″. Finally, I filled these with epoxy that, as it cured, squeezed and held the laminations tight. Considering the cost to reupholster this chair, I was taking no chances that this would fail again.

For test run before fitting the right armrest.

First test run before fitting the right armrest.

With the delaminated area repaired, I removed the old dark finish, epoxied the right armrest back in place, and sanded the arm and leg frames up to 400grit to prepare them for finishing. For this project, I chose Miniwax Antique Oil Finish. Like the Watco finishes, it is a linseed-based finish cut with mineral spirits and with some other “proprietary” ingredients. Frankly, I’m not particularly impressed with this finish, but with four coats and light sanding between coats, it built up a suitable thickness that I anticipate will be durable for a long time. I also like the smooth satin finish that this finish provides.

You'll note here that the not-so-stock holes at each end of the armrest remain but have been 'filled' with brass countersunk wood screws that match those used to join the frames to the seat.

You’ll note here that the not-so-stock holes at each end of the armrest remain but have been ‘filled’ with brass countersunk wood screws that match those used to join the frames to the seat. After several attempts to fill and color match the holes, this ended up being the most visually satisfying solution.

In the meantime, Cam and I searched around for an upholsterer to complete the job. This is where things really get nuts: we received quotes ranging from $400 to $950 for the work alone and not including leather, foam, straps, and other materials. With suitable hides  ranging from $200 to $400, you can understand how my $24 garage sale find was feeling less and less like a deal. We ended up choosing an upholster somewhere between the two ends of the spectrum - incidentally, he also upholstered our Saarinen Grasshopper chair. We chose a semi-aniline sage-green hide from S.H. Frank & Co. in SF to compliment the new satin finish. All in all, considering the amount of time that I have in this chair and upholstery costs, I probably should have just bought one from a dealer in the area. But then again, there are not too many in leather, much less this color scheme.

The leather shows a lot of grain and is very interesting in person. (That black spot is just dirt on my camera lens.)

The leather shows a lot of grain and is very interesting in person. (That black spot is just dirt on my camera lens.)

Note the satin finish on the frame.

Note the satin finish on the frame.

The crack at the base of the frame is evident but stable.

The crack at the base of the frame is evident but stable.

Finishing touches.

Finishing touches.

I guess it would be prudent to finish with an assessment of how well this thing sits. With new, soft foam it is surprisingly plush, and the curve of the seat back and the angle of the seat bottom fit the body’s contour well. We’ve been using it with an Eames 671 ottoman, which makes rocking and long-term sitting more comfortable, but it sits well on its own as a conversational chair. Now we just need to find room in the house for it!

A Suitable Headrest

Teakhound is proud to unveil its latest prized-possession: Model No. 61U “Grasshopper Chair”, Eero Saarinen for Knoll International.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U  (1)

Our Saarinen Grasshopper chair beside a coffee table by Yvonne Ekstrom and a floor lamp by Koch & Lowy.

Cam and I acquired this very early Saarinen Grasshopper from a wonderful woman – we’ll call her ‘P’ – up in South Lake Tahoe earlier this year. Her father-in-law was an industrial designer in the LA area in the 1950s and had acquired an extensive collections of early-postwar American and Danish pieces, many of which she had inherited. But P was moving and, never particularly enamored of design of this period, posted Craigslist adverts for various pieces, including this chair. We did the Craigslist dance late one evening, but when I finally got in touch with her, I committed to a few pieces on the spot. I think that was a Wednesday night, but P lived about four hours north of us, so I was a nervous wreck that this chair would disappear before I could make the trek northward to complete the exchange.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (2)

This early example features three tufts at the base of the headrest and four at the base of the seat.

Nonetheless, one cold (for San Francisco) Saturday morning in January, Cam and I set out for South Lake Tahoe. We made a pitstop in Sacramento for a burrito at one of our favorite taquerias, saw some friends in Davis, and finally arrived at P’s a little after noon. When she let us in, I was floored by the pieces she had: a Greta Grossman coffee table, an early Eames screen, a pair of William Watting lounge chairs, a Borge Mogensen harvest table, a set of Castelli DSC106 side chairs, a modern Stowe Davis desk and return, an Eames LCW by Evans, and the list goes on… It was like a time machine, nicotine stains and all (it was common to smoke all day everyday back then, and that smoke had to settle somewhere).

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (3)

Once the seat front upholstery, the piping, and the legs are installed, the back upholstery is attached by hand with a small curved needle – slow and painstaking work, particularly in leather.

We spent almost two hours with P, hearing her story and that of her father-in-law and looking at all of the pieces she’d lived with for years. When we had finally worn out our welcome, we paid her, loaded up the car, and made our way back to SF.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (4)

The chair, as found. The chair was reupholstered many years ago, and the flat washers and lock washers used to anchor the legs to the chair frame were installed improperly, resulting in a rather loose fit. The right leg had also begun to delaminate.

Back home, it was time to start work on the chair. It needed a lot of help. The upholstery was stained, sun-bleached, and smelled of very old cigarettes. The birch arms/legs were dark with nicotine stains, and the right leg showed some delamination, so it had to come apart for repair. One interesting ‘feature’ of the Model 61U is that the back upholstery must be removed in order to access the pair of nuts and washers that attach each leg to the seat frame. Luckily, we already had our hearts set on reupholstery, so tearing into it was not particularly painful on our end.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (5)

Upholstery removed from the chair back, this shot reveals one of the two studs that anchor each leg to the seat frame. Note the burlap, the latex straps, and the heavy ash (?) frame and crossmember.

Upon inspection, the chair appeared crude and fragile, but also rather brilliant in its simplicity. On each side, the leg and arm defines a singular structure with three sets of three unidirectional birch plies sandwiching two much thicker perpendicular birch plies. Two steel studs – each with a wood thread on one side and a 1/4-20 machine thread on the other – are buried into each arm/leg, pass through bores in the seat frame, and are captured on the inside of the seat frame with round washers and square nuts. The seat frame appears to be ash with a first crossmember at the front edge of the seat bottom, a second crossmember at the top of the headrest, and a third  crossmember at the junction between the seat bottom and the seat back, the second of which served as an anchor for the headrest tufts and the third of which served as an anchor for the seat bottom tufts.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (6)

Note the discoloration of the upholstery and the nicotine stains on the leg.

Once I had removed the legs, I set about repairing the damage. First, I removed the stud local to the damage as it was torque applied to this stud that had led to the delamination. Then, by clamping part of the leg to a table, I was able to pull the opposite end of the leg, which opened the split enough to inject epoxy therein. I then clamped the leg in the opposite direction and allowed the epoxy to cure for a day. When I returned the next day, I used mineral spirits and rags to remove the stains on the legs and followed this with a light sanding with 320, 400, and 600 grit sandpapers to remove raised grain and any remaining grime. Prior to three coats of Minwax® Antique Oil Finish, I used a two part epoxy to anchor the removed stud back into the leg. I had much internal debate about this, as the stud would no longer be removable. However, the risk of future damage and the cost of another repair far exceeded the value I placed on having a removable stud, so I went forward with this. Months later, it appears to have been the right choice.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (7)

Preparing to repair the delaminated leg. Note the remaining stud in the foreground and the original color of the plies where the upholstery had shielded the legs from decades of dirt and smoke.

Eventually, we found an awesome upholsterer who had, in fact, reupholstered several of these chairs in the past. We selected an aniline-dyed hide, which he used to recover the seat frame over the original horse hair (yes, horse hair!) stuffing that was unique to only the earliest examples of this chair. The use of horse hair as a stuffing material was common in the nineteenth century but fell out of favor by the early- to mid-twentieth century as latex foams became more readily available and far less expensive than their natural counterparts. However, the horse hair is incredibly comfortable and does not flatten over time like down or feathers commonly do. This and the perpendicular ply layup of the legs generally indicate that this is a very early example of the Model 61U, likely dating from between 1946 and 1949.

Teakhound - Saarinen Grasshopper Model 61U (8)

The Grasshopper chair is large in stature, and yet it fits the contours of the body very well and, unlike the Eames lounger, offers a suitable headrest. Unfortunately, Cam wasn’t available to model this feature, so I reluctantly sat in for her.

It was a significant investment to bring the Grasshopper chair to this state, but Cam and I are ecstatic to have it. In fact, she agreed to sacrifice her vanity in order to create space for it in the bedroom, and it has become almost a second office to me – Cam reads in bed while I work in the Grasshopper. Having grown up beside one of Saarinen’s most famous architectural structures, it seems only fitting that we’d finally have one of his works to ourselves.

Jig for Sugasawa

I have finally begun restoration of the Heron chair by Mitsumasa Sugasawa for Tendo Mokko. I last wrote about this chair nearly seven months ago, and it has been sitting in our living room with a “don’t sit on me” halo hovering over it since. I had an idea of the poor condition of this chair when I first purchased it, which has no doubt been a factor in my hesitation to begin its restoration, but if I had known how bad it truly was, I probably would have let it sit in my living room for another seven months. In fact, I probably would have never taken it home in the first place. But it was a cold and rainy week in San Francisco…

The most dramatic of the damage, the right frame rail delaminated around the hardwood insert

The most dramatic of the damage, the right frame rail delaminated around the hardwood insert

Pretty bad, right? Well, this particular chapter has a happy ending, so keep reading. But in the meantime, check out some of the other wounds this piece has endured over its many years.

The Heron rocking chair prior to disassembly - doesn't look that bad, right?

The Heron rocking chair prior to disassembly – doesn’t look that bad, right?

This image shows how the right frame (below) rail has relaxed out of position as a result of its extensive damage

This image shows how damage to the right frame (below) rail has allowed it to relax out of position

Damage at the base of the arm rest; note the countersunk screws that were a later, unfortunate addition

Damage at the base of the arm rest; note the countersunk screws that were a later, unfortunate addition

Further damage at the rear of the arm rest and a second misplaced screw

Further damage at the rear of the arm rest and a second misplaced screw

Gorilla Glue strikes again; this poor excuse for an adhesive only compounds the damage at the lower junction between the frame rail and the armrest

Gorilla Glue strikes again; this poor excuse for an adhesive only compounds the damage at the junction between the frame rail and the armrest

The chair disassembled and the damage assessed, it became immediately apparent that I would need to fabricate a jig in order to repair the delamination in the right frame rail. Because the left frame rail was nearly pristine, I used it as a pattern and traced its perimeter on some 2x10s I had lying around. I then trimmed the pieces with a jigsaw and matched them to the left frame rail with a disk sander.

First test fit of the jig

First test fit of the jig

Once fit within a suitable tolerance, I sketched out a clamping arrangement across the four separate jig components. The goal was to arrange one clamp across the center of each of the five main bends, which necessitated key placement of cutouts and cuts in the four jig components to accept the clamps.

Five clamps span the four jig components to apply compressive forces across the five primary bends in the frame rail

Five clamps span the four jig components to apply compressive forces across the five primary bends in the frame rail

Following several successful dry-runs, it was time to take the plunge. I used a syringe to inject a two-part epoxy into the areas of delamination and quickly set the jig and clamps in place. Here are a few shots of the results:

Two-part epoxy was injected into the fissures with a syringe, and the jig was clamped in place with the left center jig section screwed to the table

Two-part epoxy was injected into the fissures with a syringe, and the jig was clamped in place with the left center jig section screwed to the table

Remember how this used to look?

Remember how this used to look?

The break at the base of the seat bottom after the epoxy cured

The break at the base of the seat bottom after the epoxy cured

Right now, things are looking pretty good on this front. In preparation for the next chapter, I’ve cleaned up a few other things too:

The split at the rear of the armrest, filled with epoxy and clamped during cure

The split at the rear of the armrest, filled with epoxy and clamped curing cure

The groove that accepts a tongue at the base of the armrest finally cleared of Gorilla Glue

The groove that accepts a tongue at the base of the armrest finally cleared of Gorilla Glue

That’s all for now. Still a lot of work left, but things are moving along well enough. Stay tuned!

Catenary in the Coal Mine

It is a well-established fact that I love chairs. I mean really love chairs. I think Cam and I currently own some forty-ish chairs and have bought, loved, and sold at least another twenty since we started collecting some nine months ago. Frankly, sometimes I think I would have opted for this URL if it weren’t already taken…

The Catenary Chair, Model 6380, by George Nelson & Associates for Herman Miller. 1962.

But I have a rule to which I loosely adhere when buying chairs: if it’s more than $100, I do the research to verify origin, pedigree, value, rarity, etc. Only then can I pitch a chair purchase to my conscience (i.e. Cam). My excitement over a new find usually gets in the way, so Cam is often better at juggling cost against rarity, comfort, and aesthetics than I. When we both agree, we buy. It’s a model that has worked well in the past, especially when the chair in question was a few thousand dollars.

Stainless steel frame and upholstered leather cushions with enameled steel backings.

But we broke that rule last week, in a big way. We bought a Catenary chair designed by George Nelson for Herman Miller. It had been on Craigslist off and on for weeks, with the price dropping slowly over time, and I finally snapped. Lots of Internet research later, I pitched it to Cam with no more information than “it’s rare, was only produced in 1963 and 1964, was never copied, costs between $X and $X’ depending on condition, is typically upholstered in black leather, and was designed by George Nelson with inspiration from Buckminster Fuller. The Buckminster Fuller exhibit recently came through the MOMA in SF, so that last point was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Cam decided we could at least look at it, despite the dearth of available information. But she made it clear that she was nothing short of skeptical over this one.

Buckminister Fuller’s influence is most evident in the thin members that support the seat over the base.

But part of loving chairs is not turning your back on something interesting and rare, even when the price makes you wince…. hard. So we went, we fell in love (with the chair, winky face), we haggled a little, and we took it home. Despite the cramped quarters in which we viewed the chair, Cam and I were completely smitten by it. Cam’s skepticism had all but disappeared.

Nelson’s Catenary chair shares much in terms of size, materials, and form with Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona Chair.

Now that’s it’s home, I figure it’d be nice to share it with the world and share my observations, since finding a personal account of the Catenary chair seems to be the equivalent of looking for the exit in an unlit coal mine without a headlamp (had to tie in the title somehow). So here goes:

First, this thing is heavy. It must weigh between seventy and eighty pounds. The base appears to be polished stainless steel, not chromed steel as some have posited. The base includes a pair of symmetric half-hexagonal bent bars bolted together with two large allen-head countersunk machine screws. The footprint of the base is roughly 19.5″ deep by 22.5″ wide, and each corner sits on a small 3/8″ nylon glide.

One of the two stainless steel crossmembers that supports the seat cables is shown in the image above. Note the single countersunk bolt in the base – this is mirrored on the opposite side.

The seat comprises eight separate upholstered cushions that ride on two flexible cables supported on each end by a stainless steel crossmember. Each crossmember is elevated above the base by four steel 5/16″ steel rods ranging from 11.75″ to 24.25″ in length. The cushions float loosely on the flexible cables, and allen-head cap screws fix chrome escutcheons to the ends of the cables to capture the cushions. Each of the eight cushions is roughly 29.5″ wide, 4.625″ wide, and 3″ thick. My best guess is that the cables are braided steel cables encased in rubber, though I haven’t gotten up the nerve to disassemble it to confirm. The cushions are stuffed with latex foam sealed within a canvas pouch that runs the length of each cushion. Each cushion is upholstered in thin aniline leather with piping around its full perimeter and is backed with a single sheet of 14-gage enameled steel – no wonder it’s so heavy!

The cables and cushions adjust to occupant’s individual size and shape. To give you a sense of scale, I am 5′-8″ on a good day.

So what’s so special about this thing? Well, it’s rare and was only produced between 1963 and 1964. It was designed by one of the most influential designers of the 20th century and was inspired by a particularly interesting and influential philosopher cum designer cum inventor of the same period.

A recent garage sale find, a small Navajo rug makes a perfect throw over the soft, worn upholstery.

But what’s more is that it is really, really comfortable in a way that so many other chairs are not. The Eames lounger, the Barcelona chair, the Womb chair, the Bird chair…. These static behemoths of modern design, while incredibly comfortable, seem to separate their occupants from the rest of the room. On the contrary, the Catenary chair sacrifices nothing in the way of comfort while placing its occupant in a lounging position nearly perfect for both reading and engaging with others in the room. But how? It is simple, really: the cables flex, allowing the eight cushions to adjust to the shape and position of the occupant’s body. This concept is both brilliant and brilliantly-executed in the Catenary chair.

At home and proudly resting between pieces believed to be by Alan Gould and Max Gottschalk.

The verdict? We are completely in love with this chair. It is something we have come to expect from Nelson’s work, and once again he has not failed to perfectly blend aesthetics, comfort, and implementation. Complaints? None whatsoever, but a matching ottoman would be a dream come true!

Hans J. Wegner for President

This is a long time coming – I think I began restoration of this period replica of Hans Wegner’s CH28 Sawhorse chair in May of this year. Though it was completed several weeks ago, Cam and I finally found time to take some pictures this weekend.

Period replica of Hans J. Wegner’s CH28 Sawhorse Chair for Carl Hansen and Son.

Let’s set the record straight: we are in love with this chair. It is now a far cry from the sorry shape it was in when I brought it home six months ago. To recap, I first sanded through the gray haze and dirt that had covered the oak frame after decades of use. The armrests were masked and stained with Minwax Dark Walnut stain. Once dry, the whole frame was waxed with Howards Paste Wax and buffed.

Unlike the authentic CH28 manufactured by Carl Hansen and Son, this replica has two crossmembers that support the seat back.

Next, the seat bottom was repaired and strengthened around its mounting holes with a two-part quick-set epoxy. This has done wonders to reduce any wobble in the chair once assembled.

Cam picked out this gorgeous and very durable 100% polyester fabric by Duralee.

Finally, I reupholstered the seat bottom and seat back. My inaugural upholstery attempt, the results were relatively successful. The seat bottom and seat back retain their original foam cushions, but I supplemented these with a medium polyester batting. I finally stretched a heavy 100% polyester fabric (Cam’s choice) over both sides of the seat bottom and seat back and attached it with upholstery staples.

Some unevenness in top edge of the seat back, but the fabric is otherwise generally straight and taught.

All in all, we are ecstatic over how well this piece turned out. Not only do we find it incredibly interesting visually, but it is actually very comfortable. I have sat in it for hours at a time, tall Scotch in hand. Despite its limited cushioning, it hugs the body very well and provides support where needed. Our only complaint? We wish there was a matching ottoman!

Unique from just about any angle, this is certainly one comfortable chair.

Environmental Vegetarianism

So we’ve been doing quite a bite of growing lately over here at the ‘hound.  We opened an Etsy shop and also we’ve realized our interest in furniture is just an extension of a greater part of who we are and the role we want to play in the world. We don’t mean to preach, maybe not even educate, but we do want to positively contribute to the popular dialogue about what it means to be a human contributing to this planet in the 21st century.

So teakhound is making a shift. This blog will remain primarily about design, restoration, and vintage things, but we will occasionally throw in our reasoning behind why we only buy vintage, how we feel and deal with consumption and over-consumption, and how we are trying desperately to relieve ourselves of a heavy-handed culture of consumerism while still fulfilling our need for design and aesthetics in our home.

Right around Thanksgiving of last year the Hound and I decided to try out a gluten-free diet. Our decision was based on many factors, but mine was primarily because of the advice of a client.  Take a few minutes to read Jason’s blog post titled “Why Gluten Free“.  Metabolic Meals has been a loyal client of mine for some time now, and I thought it was about time I took their advice to heart regarding my diet and health.

When I try to explain our dietary decision to friends in everyday conversation I simply state the following:

1) It’s great for your heart to eliminate gluten from your diet

2) I never knew I had swelling and stiffness in my joints until I eliminated gluten from my diet. I noticed my rings were easier to put on and honestly, I guess I just wasn’t aware of the swelling until it was gone, in less than two weeks I might add!

2) I lost 8 lbs in two weeks, so seriously why not???

Back to the title of the post, Environmental Vegetarianism, the Hound has recently decided it’s also probably good for us to drop meat from our diet.  I’m not 100% on this, but I’m trying.  I just love sushi!  Because we’re a team and we’re consciously trying to make sustainable life choices, I’ve worked out a compromise with which I feel comfortable.  I’m saving fish for special occasions like date night and holidays.   Plus, since I cook dinner while he commutes home from the city, it was pretty much a no-brainer to convert.

DISCLAIMER: We are not posting this information to insist friends/family/readers change to a gluten-free or veggie lifestyle. We do think it’s our responsibility to educate readers about sustainable alternatives to their current lifestyle.

Because of the aforementioned dietary changes I have greatly expanded my repertoire of recipes.  Last night I made the most amazing Roasted Veggie Soup which I’m going to share with you here. My mom, a carnivore for life, absolutely loved this soup!

Step One: Slice up all veggies to similar size, drizzle with olive oil. I used sweet potatoes, cauliflower, carrots, onions, sweet peppers, and garlic.  Roast in the oven at 375 for about 45 minutes or until nicely browned.

Step Two: Assemble additional ingredients in preparation for when the veggies are finished roasting.  Note our Aussies in the background, watching my every move for a dropped morsel.

Step Three: Blend roasted veggies and pour into sauce pan.  Add all additional ingredients to sauce pan and simmer for 15 minutes.

Step Four: Serve with a dollop of sour cream and basil accent. Oh and a glass of wine, of course!

Roasted Veggie Soup

1 head cauliflower

2 sweet potatoes

4 cups baby carrots

1 yellow onion

4 cloves garlic

2 sweet peppers

1 tbsp crushed red pepper flakes

1 tbsp garlic salt

2 tbsp curry powder

1 tbsp cumin

1 tsp paprika

Coconut milk and veggie stock to desired taste/consistency

Enjoy!

~Cam

Clash of the Titans

Wow. Been away from this for far too long. Three months now, I think? Not much of an excuse, but in this time I have studied for the LSAT, taken the LSAT, survived a cross-country camping trip with Cam, helped settle Cam in her new home with me in the San Francisco Bay Area, and bought two more Herman Miller Eames lounge chairs and ottomans.

Series IV Eames lounge chair and ottoman, c. 1991

Yep. Two more, in addition to the one Cam and I picked up earlier this year. Seems a little silly, right? (Yeah, we agree, which is why we’ve succumbed to posting two in our new Etsy store). It was another one of those “right place, right time” sorts of things, and I am never one to give up on a chair like this. In my mind, there is frankly little better than an authentic Herman Miller 670/671 set…

Series II Eames lounge chair and ottoman, c. 1962

…that is, unless you are comparing between two authentic Herman Miller 670/671 sets of different vintages. And that’s exactly what we’re about to do.

Highly-figured series IV rosewood shells

But before we get into the details of these chairs, how about some background: the first lounge chairs of this type, designed by Charles and Ray Eames, hit the assembly line in 1956. The duck feather, aniline-died leather, molded rosewood shells, and cast aluminum bases became iconic almost over night. The first production run, called the series I, lasted into 1959, at which time Herman Miller made some minor changes, including introducing the “Domes of Steel” feet/glides and offering a combination of latex foam, grey duck feathers, and down cushion stuffing.  These are designated series II production. In 1971, a transition to series III occurred, and, beyond some manufacturing and material changes to the chair, Herman Miller dropped the round “H” medallion in favor of a simpler rectangular back “Herman Miller sticker. 1990 saw the introduction of the series IV, which continues today. You can read more about it in this very informative article from WorthPoint.

Sun-bleached series IV rosewood shells

Now we’re off to the races. The examples in question include a series II, which is tan on rosewood and was made around 1962, and a series IV, which is blue on rosewood and was made around 1991.

Series IV ottoman with rosewood shell

First, the shells of the series II are noticeably thicker than those of the series IV: 10mm (.393”) vs. 9.25mm (.365”). Both chairs feature 5-ply molded shells, and it appears that the source of the 0.75mm (.0228”) difference is in the rosewood veneers. This does make some sense, however, considering the increasing scarcity of rosewood into the 1990s when the series IV example was manufactured, and I expect Herman Miller would have opted for thinner veneers to make their ever-diminishing supply “last longer.” Of note, rosewood is no longer an available option in these chairs, the nearest equivalent now being Santos. Though Santos is often called “Santos rosewood” and is similar in appearance to true “Rio” rosewood, it is not an authentic rosewood of the Dalbergia genus. Also, the shells of the series II appear to be cut and prepared by hand. In particular, the seat bottom shell of the series II chair is not wholly symmetric from side to side, and without any indication of previous damage or repair, we’re assuming this is a consequence of its original manufacture. On the other hand, I am sure the series IV shells were cut on an NC machine and without much manual input.

Series II rosewood ottoman and tan aniline leather cushion

Moving on, the leather of the series II is aniline-dyed and feels slightly thicker than that of the series IV. To be honest, I have yet to call Herman Miller to request that they look up the details of the series IV, but I believe these used pigmented leather, which is more durable than aniline but doesn’t have quite the same feel as the aniline. Think I’ll also need to ask how the series IV was finished. I believe it was a satin lacquer finish, whereas the series II had several coats of buffed gunstock oil.

Inside the series IV ottoman rosewood shell (note the stamped ink numbers); note the steel clip (top-left corner) used to retain the cushion

Customers could order their series II Eames lounge chairs with 100% duck feathers or with a combination of latex foam (50%), grey duck feathers (30%) and down (20%), as in this example. This series IV, however, was supplied from Herman Miller with polyfill. The differences in filler materials renders the series IV more supportive and more comfortable than the series II, and it will likely remain this way far into the future, whereas the series II has taken on a wonderful “lived in” sort of patina due in part to this selection of materials.

Inside the series II ottoman with original 671 tag; note the steel clip (top-right corner) used to retain the cushion

Finally, the combination of thicker shells, thicker leather, latex foam, and natural feathers adds up to nearly 10lbs. of additional weight in the series II chair over the series IV chair. These 10lbs. really add up when it comes time to move the series II about  the house.

Series IV ottoman cushion with polyfill stuffing; note the slots in the cushion backing that accept the steel clips on the shells

So, which one is better? I know this is a cop-out, but it’s really hard to say. When it comes to a decision between a series II and a series IV Herman Miller Eames 670/671, we see it as a draw (though this is certainly not the case the series I and series III examples). Basically, we appreciate the plush cushions, satin finish, and highly-figured grain of the series IV. However, we also die for patina and things that exude “I was made with human hands,” characteristics that the series II holds in spades. Looks and comfort aside, the series II might be a better long-term investment, but it will also require more maintenance over time, from conditioning the leather to oiling the shells. Boiled down, we’re just not sure you can go wrong with either a series II or a series IV.

Series II cushion stuffed with foam, duck feather, and down; note brass rings in the cushion backing that accept the steel clips on the shells

Despite this predicament of having too many Eames loungers, we’re just ecstatic to have had the opportunity to appreciate and experience each of these pieces for both their uniqueness and idiosyncrasies. We simply cannot imagine a future without at least one of these in our home.

At home in its place of honor

My Ultimate Feminine Indulgence

This evening I did a bit of organizing and tidying up around the house. As I dusted my way around I was reminded that I am extremely fortunate for so many things in my life, not the least of which is The Hound.

Before we moved in together he was mostly responsible for setting up shop in our new house as I packed all of my earthly belongings for the cross-country move. The Hound came across this great vanity and immediately purchased it for me. I absolutely love it!

Did I mention he’s pretty awesome for indulging my girlish fantasy of sitting in a negligee, putting on makeup and jewels in a Marilyn-esque fashion? Nearly every time I sit in that chair I feel pampered.

Anyway, I have never owned a vanity prior to this piece as it was always more a daydream than reality. I could not have predicted how convenient it is to have a place for all of my hair accessories, jewelry, and make up.

I also think The Hound appreciates that these items are neatly tucked away in my corner of the bedroom. Who knew we would both find such an appreciation for my daydream turned ultimate feminine indulgence?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I just might treat myself to a martini and a bath ;)

Authenticity

A few weeks ago I stumbled upon an item on Craigslist that just seemed too good to be true. The price was amazing and so was the condition, at least as far as I could tell from the images provided. Oh and I found it 28 minutes after the seller posted it. I immediately emailed the seller and left a voicemail. I cc’d the Hound for confirmation that my find really was as excellent as I believed it to be. We agreed that it was worth bugging the heck out of the seller until she caved in and handed the prize over to us … ASAP. I checked my bank account to be sure I had the funds and rushed to the nearest ATM. She called me back and I was at her doorstep in 30 minutes.

So are you curious what I found?

That’s right, five Hans Wegner by Carl Hansen CH24 Wishbone chairs. The picture is of four as the fifth has a seat that is a little worse for the wear and needs to be re-corded.  See below for the amazing profile view.

I flipped each chair over dutifully as the Hound has taught me. I quickly located a black and white Carl Hansen sticker on each chair.  Woohoo!  I handed over the cash, loaded them into my SUV and headed home. Super psyched. I unloaded them, sent pics to the Hound, and then began to research the chairs.  We do this with everything that we purchase, not only because we need to verify authenticity, but also because we just want to learn as much as we can about each and every piece we add to our collection.  My first search was for this particular sticker.

After 15 minutes of searching, I found nothing. I started to get nervous. I called the Hound and interrupted him at work, which is a major no-no. I updated him on my lack of progress authenticating the chairs.  He started to get nervous.  Within a few minutes he was able to provide a website that listed the specific measurements of the chair. I measured and everything seemed to be off by about 1/8 inch. I proceeded to become even more nervous, but then I realized I was measuring them on carpet. Stupid. So the measurements were correct, but I couldn’t find that darn sticker anywhere.  I felt like I had hit a dead end.  I could not be satisfied that these were legit CH24s without solid evidence.

The Hound came up with the brilliant idea to go contact the manufacturer, Carl Hansen & Son. As the Hound informed me, legitimate and respectable companies like Carl Hansen, Knoll, and Herman Miller are typically willing to help buyers determine authenticity. They have a vested interest in identifying fakes. A kind woman named MJ responded within minutes to our inquiry and forwarded the images directly to the President of Carl Hansen in the US headquarters). This was of course late on Friday afternoon. MJ informed us that her boss would not be able to verify them until Monday. I’m sure you can imagine what a stressful weekend that was, especially Friday evening with the uncertainty setting in. I’ll admit I sat down with a glass of wine and shed a tear or two. I had paid a pretty penny for these chairs and the idea that they might be knockoffs was not one I wanted to entertain. The Hound told me to buck up. No matter how it turned out, we would learn a lesson.

So, before I reveal the results, let’s review the lessons learned.

1) Do your research. I should have asked about the presence of markings, where they were originally purchased by the seller, price paid by the seller, etc. Each of her answers to these questions could have provided quite a bit of insight into the origin of the chairs.

2) When in doubt, go straight to the source. It never even occurred to me that a corporation would take the time to authenticate these chairs for us, and for free. Reputable companies are more than happy to do so. Carl Hansen’s customer service was nothing short of spectacular.

Without further ado, we are so very pleased to say that these babies are AUTHENTIC!  They are not vintage but Carl Hansen informed us that the sticker we were having so much trouble locating was used between 2002-2006.

It’s funny because I pouted and worried away my Friday evening with a glass of wine and guess what? I sure as heck celebrated with a glass of wine too!

To the Moon and Back

Wow. Been out of the game for too long. A lot has happened in the last two weeks, and it’s about time for me to share a little of it.

Maple jug with lid, Philip Campbell, 1979

Let’s start with last Saturday, garage sale day. Total bust. Seriously lousy. After a few weeks in a row of some sweet scores, I was pretty bummed that, after three hours spewing fumes from my tailpipe in search of a decent sale, the best I could muster was this wood… Bucket? Pot? Jar? Vase? Vessel? Yes, I’ll go with vessel. Standing about 12″ tall and 7″ at its widest, it appears to be hand-hewn from maple – or maybe it’s spruce? Signed ‘Philip Campbell FEB-1979,’ which hasn’t turned up any relevant Google hits. Does that name mean anything to anyone? Would love to know more about it’s history. In any case, it could use a cleaning, but I’m holding out for the time being since I’m such a sucker for patina.

Set of three teak nesting tables between our DCMs

In the meantime, I had made plans to head up to the Santa Rosa area to pick up a set of teak nesting tables, but the seller (I’ll call her J.) had some second thoughts about parting with them. Some pieces just have sentimental value and are hard to let go of, so believe you me when I say I had no hard feelings about it. I guess something changed though, because come Saturday afternoon I found out that we were back in business. Honestly, I wasn’t ecstatic over my upcoming lonely (Cam was out of town) two-hour drive North.

So up early on Sunday, fed the dogs, and scooted out the door. A few hours later I was driving home the proud new owner of a freaking sweet set of nesting tables, likely mid-’50s with solid teak legs and old-growth teak veneer tops. They truly nest, with the smaller tables sliding into grooves in their larger counterparts so they can all be moved as a unit. Pretty handy, really. They need a little work but are really stunning. I also picked up two yellow Herman Miller shell chairs in need of some serious scrubbing and new shock mounts. This more than made up for that lousy Saturday.

Early – and very dirty- Eames shells

But despite the fact that I had picked up a few cool pieces, the whole experience was really made by my interactions with J. She was just awesome. Super enthusiastic about her pieces, both what she had collected herself and what had been passed down to her, and her taste was impeccable. I wrote about what makes an awesome seller a while back, and she definitely has attributes of an awesome seller, and in spades. I’d kill for her sense of style and her eye for vintage pieces (and maybe a little of her luck, too). I walked into her house and didn’t know what to drool over first. Her collection of Kilim rugs was breathtaking – every size, color, pattern, etc. you could imagine, but somehow blending into the space like they were woven decades ago with the sole intention of covering her floors. Then there were her chairs…. Oh, her teak, iron, and cane lounge chairs… They left me desperate, searching for words! And the adorable (yes, I am a grown man using the word ‘adorable’) teak Danish high chair that she used at her grandmother’s when she was young. And the teak sofa with original rubber Dunlop straps… It was all just icing on the cake… And she didn’t at all upset over me shuffling through her house ogling over everything.

First order of business: order new shockmounts

Forgive me, I am just reminiscing about all of the cool pieces I got to see in the hour I spent chatting with her… And not a single picture to share! (Sorry!) But the whole experience was awesome because, there we were, two strangers, swapping stories and tidbits of knowledge for god knows how long about the pieces we have, had, miss, dream about, and grew up with. In the end, it’s stuff like that that keeps me coming back to this hobby/passion/obsession for old stuff. Frankly, you can only sit in a chair for so long before your ass gets sore. But you can keep revisiting those stories, even if your friends have heard them dozens of times. So I guess now seems like a good time to say, “J. – thank you, I really appreciate you and your grandmother, and it was a pleasure meeting you. Hope to run into you again down the road.”

Telescoping aluminum tripod made in Skokie, Il in the 1960s by Quickset Inc.

And that brings me to this past weekend, specifically another garage-sale-Saturday. I drove right past this tiny little garage sale, but had to turn around when I was lured by this wicked Craftsman table saw. There really is nothing like American iron from the ’40s and ’50s. We made some quality stuff back in the day. I guess we still do, but you’ll find it in satellites in the form of TWTs, oil rigging equipment in the form of drilling heads, and expensive furniture in the form of Hans Wegner Papa Bear chairs, but probably not in most tools you pick up at Home Depot. So it was pretty neat to see this old saw that was lovingly used and carefully modified to accommodate that clever belt-driven scroll saw. Wish I could have taken it home, but I only have so much room in my very dusty shop / shed. So I passed.

Though bigger in size, the American Quicket tripod is far more robust and stable that the Japanese Kalimar tripod of very similar weight.

But I did explain my regret to the seller (I’ll call him D.) over not being able to take it home, and I instead gravitated to this vintage camera tripod by Quickset Inc. (U.S. Patent No. 2,919,093, issued 29 DEC 1959.) And I’m glad I did. He proceeded to tell a captivating story about this little piece made in Skokie, IL some fifty years ago. It turns out his father (who bought that table saw soon after returning from WWII) had designed and managed construction of the first human centrifuges for NASA prior to and during the first manned space missions. Apparently D. spent some time in Houston while his father and other scientists troubleshot the machine and ran some extensive testing on the Mercury Seven. And – here’s the punch line – his dad specifically bought this camera tripod to use while documenting that testing. Yep, Alan Shephard, second man and first American in space, touched this camera tripod. As an hilarious aside, D. didn’t think much of Niel Armstrong the first time they shook hands. John Glenn was kinda a bigger deal at the time, having become the first man to orbit space and all. And then Armstrong became the first man to step foot on the moon. D. had to change his story after that. Wow. Made me laugh out loud.

Alan Shephard stepping out of the centrifuge at Johnsonville (from nadcmuseum.org).

The shit D. saw and the people he met… Must have been one incredible time. So now I’ll take a second to say, “D., it was a pleasure meeting you, and I am sorry I couldn’t make you an offer on your table saw, but I cannot thank you enough for taking twenty minutes out of your day to tell me those stories. I really hope you write a book about it. I’ll see you at the book signing.”

The Project Mercury Astronauts: front row, left to right, Walter H. Schirra, Jr., Donald K. Slayton, John H. Glenn, Jr., and Scott Carpenter; back row, Alan B. Shepard, Jr., Virgil I. Gus Grissom, and L. Gordon Cooper. (Image from Wikipedia.)

And that’s why I garage sale and drive all over Northern California every weekend: it’s for the people and their stories at least as much as it is for the pieces.

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