As Jason began the cutting for the Tuam, I began work on a very ancient style of travelling throne used by the Roman magistrates. I’ve not researched it closely, but I have read in a few places that this style of folding chair, in the shape of an X, was allowed only for high Roman officials. Even after the Roman empire collapsed, those territories that were affected by the romans still considered the X chair as a sign of power. There were many many variants over the centuries, and the X chair evolved farther and farther from its roots. If you’re bored, look up a savonarolla, or a dantesca or the throne of the franc king, Dagobert.

I am told that even today, X-shaped chairs are reserved for Catholic bishops, and that they actually use Faldistoriums in ritual, though I do not know if this is true. My idea, however, was an interpretation. Say, not long after Rome retreated from the British Isles and Hadrian’s wall was overrun. What kind of throne might a Celtic warlord have made? How would he have re-imaged a Roman Faldistorium? So, I made this -

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I’d never made such a thing before, and it involved a *lot* of carving. So I thought I’d figure out the mechanics before I got in too deep. So I began by making a crudddy little pine mockup with a looped duct tape seat. Interestingly enough, even the cruddy mockup was strong enough to sit on, and became a spare seat in the woodshop for a while.

I took a few saws and sanders, and rough shaped legs from poplar wood. I wanted it to have a nice *thick* feel, since it was such a simple chair… and oak and maples are superexpensive in that width.

Next came the carvings. I draw the designs on paper and make xerox copies I can ruin. I then transfer the art by simply tracing the design from the xerox to the wood using plain old fashioned carbon typewriter paper. and then I sat down, and using hand gouges, I began to carve the designs.

A little side detail - have you ever seen those “ball and claw” bathtubs and dining room tables? With the taloned feet holding a sphere? They started like this. I noticed that the toes would be likely to chip if I made the foot wholly flat, so I left a little “pad” under the foot to keep the toes off the ground, and safer. And then I began to look. Apparently the old makers had the same thought. They also used pads under clawed feet, and over the centuries, the “pad” became larger and larger, curving until eventually, it evolved into the ball and claw designs. It utterly fascinated me to see. Doing this stuff really is like walking back in time sometimes. The faces of the dogs are adapted from some serifs and finals of a style seen in the ancient Irish Book of Kells bible, and the knotwork is a very traditional pattern seen all over the place in Celtic tradition.

After repeating the art 4 (ugh) times, I made a few simple rectangular stretchers to connect the legs, and did a test assembly.

It was level!

I decided to go with a metal link pin for simple reasons of strength. I wanted this chair, and in fact, all we make, to be heirlooms, and I tend to try to imagine 100 year scenarios. These days, we’ve actually altered how we finish the wood to make it easier for future furniture restorers. Silly hopes, huh? But it’s what keeps me going.

I suppose we didn’t take any shots of the staining. It’s a two part oil-based stain so we could customize the color to balance some of poplar’s bad color tendencies. A friend of my beloved made the seat from 2 layers of heavy canvas, and I grommet-ed it. It is held on by screws in the stretchers, and the seat wraps around to hide them. It has a clearcoat of tung oil and polyurethane, and well, it looks like this -

And, in June of 2006, the first faldistorium sold at a science fiction convention called Marcon.

I sincerely hope that chair lasts the woman who bought it for generations, and it sparks the imagination, and brings her family joy. Not long after that first dark poplar faldistorium sold, I made another that was clearcoated rock-maple. But that’s another (hellish) chapter.