Vintage view: Chairs and sofas

Kya deLongchamps says that despite the artistic merit of chairs, their first function is comfort.

WITH the January sales in full swing, chairs and sofas are top of the discount charts. We take these pieces of everyday furniture for granted, but the evolution of the domestic seat remains a fascinating piece of social and design history.

Where you sat, and what you sat on, said who you were in the household, and possibly the kingdom. Just getting off the floor was a sign of your rocketing status, and most people clambered up off straw or rushes spread before the fire onto a modest creaking chest or rustically fashioned stool.

With a back, the stool became a back-stool. Even the Chinese, relative sophisticates of the medieval period, were more likely to sit cross-legged on the floor in egalitarian harmony, no-one’s head raised above their companions’, or use a folding stool, a tradition that endures to this day.

In the West, right up to the 19th century, chairs had to accommodate often outrageous fashion in an accepted sitting style, politely confined in stiffly hooped acres of skirts and petticoats.

Men’s tail coats could be rudely crushed by a standard backed chair. An armless variety of ‘conversation chair’ was devised, on which the vain dandy sat back to front, resting his arms on a low rail, dangling the expensive velvet and lace out of harm’s way and out on view.

Chairs with an oddly low popliteal height (from the flat of the foot to the bottom of the sitter) were often used as prayer seats for kneeling or as nursing chairs where a woman could arrange herself, her expansive dress and her precious cargo more easily.

Arm chairs at one time might even have a canopy for grandeur and cutting down on draughts, leading to the expression to sit ‘in’ an armchair, rather than ‘on’ it. High sides and backs close to the fire increased comfort and privacy, enclosing the sitter near the primal heart of the home. Armrests designed to cradle the forearms allowed the sitter an easy rise to their feet.

Upholstery and cane seats with a bit of give were a luxurious addition to the early panelled chairs of Tudor times.

Even kings and queens sat on plank- style chairs rendered comfy with cushions for royal and aristocratic backsides. Over time, the decoration on chairs migrated to the rails, stretches and legs, leaving the contact points on the body more comfortable.

The frame opened up, making the chair lighter and easier to more around the room. French Rococo salon fauteuil without arms allowed the sitter in the early 1700s a relaxing sprawl over a wide seat without the height demanded of a lower stretcher, relaxing onto a deeply padded back. ]

Where seductive French fashions for behaviour, fabrics and set dressing went, other countries followed and upholstered chairs became standard for any well-to-do household and its status-hungry followers.

If you look at the traditional dining chairs or sofa suites on sale in any high street shop today, the mark of these iconic lightly-formed 18th century chairs is still there. A dainty Chippendale dining chair, a witty little ball and claw foot on a fat armchair, regal Windsors, over-blown wing-backs and French provincial rockers; 19th and 20th century designers reached back as far as Roman and Egyptian forms from the tombs for inspirational shapes. Art deco chair makers (or menuisiers) raided the tombs of Tutankhamen for fabulous jazzy thrones to wow the rich and famous. Architecture, modern art movements, car design, nature, the curves of a woman’s body and even space travel left their mark on chairs.

In 2011, Irish-born designer Eileen Gray’s exotic Fauteuil aux Dragons became the most expensive chair (and single piece of 20th century design) ever sold at auction, achieving a hammer price of €21.9m at Christie’s in Paris.

There’s one thing you should demand of any chair, old or new — the same desire that raised the sights of our muddy floor-dwelling ancestors — uncompromised comfort.