For an object that has, for the best part of a millennium, fulfilled the mundane task of sitting, the chair remains capable of inciting some rather strong reactions. The architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe bemoaned that “it is almost easier to build a skyscraper than a chair”, whilst Hans Wegner, the Danish master behind the AP19 ‘Papa Bear’, felt it was a category of furniture that existed beyond the grasp of perfection. “The good chair is a task one is never completely done with,” he famously opined. In the 1920s, members of the public were so incensed by Marcel Breuer’s B3 ‘Wassily’ – nicknamed for Bauhaus contemporary and abstract painter, Wassily Kandinsky – that their initial impulse was often to destroy it. According to Breur himself, “people jumped on [the Wassily] in exhibitions. They thought the world was going to end with this furniture”. Such anecdotes don’t even begin to convey the professional jealousy that, for a time, seemed endemic in chairmaking. Throughout the 20th century, it was common for European and American designers to decamp between competing producers: a somewhat inevitable outcome when one considers how often they were forced to sign the rights to their work away or worse still, imitated without credit.

Such historical morsels reveal an obvious truth: that the ubiquitous chair means so much more than an assembly of seat, back support and leg-like structures. Lucy Ryder Richardson, the former Vogue writer and co-founder of Modern Shows, spoke of humanity’s “intimate connection” to chairs; and of how their capacity to imprint the memories of multiple lifetimes burnishes an already fanatic community of collectors:

Rather than compiling a shortlist of important chairs made in the 20th century – a somewhat vague method of categorisation that fails to connect the dots between the various cultures, schools of thought, and manufacturing processes that underlie them – we spoke with five individuals about those designs they personally consider most influential. From a watchmaker whose own aesthetic is reflected in the pure lines of a modernist masterpiece to fashion insiders for whom chairs are the key to cultivating a more thoughtful, well-rounded taste, here are five designs that go well beyond the simple task of providing somewhere to sit. Though of course, in that respect they’re not too shabby either.

A fresh presence in the world of artisanal men’s fashion Buzz Tang is the co-founder and de facto creative director of The Anthology – a network of classic menswear ateliers, operating out of Taipei and Hong Kong. As the youngest collector to feature in our discussion, Tang tempers his growing broad-based knowledge of different design chair typologies with what many will recognise as an interdisciplinary curiosity. Constantly searching for the essence of good design in a trove of disparate places – food produce and paintings are two recurring examples – it’s only natural that Tang would find his brand’s own philosophy mirrored in the creations of Pierre Jeanneret.

By reputation pragmatic and given to a hands-on approach when designing, Jeanneret is popularly associated with the Chandigarh chair (1955): an A-frame lounge seat destined for those government buildings he’d also been charged with designing, in the city of the same name. Made from raw materials that were ideally suited to the hot, humid climes of Punjab, Tang contends these chairs are equally suited to his showrooms in East Asia – where they lend The Anthology’s “contemporary old school” apparel an element of simple, dignified beauty:

“Much like Vladimir Kagan’s ‘Serpentine’ sofa, the ‘Chandigarh’ (along with subsequent spin-offs such as the ‘Kangaroo’ and ‘Writing’ chair) were icons of their time. In many ways, its creator, the Swiss architect Pierre Jeanneret, authored the textbook on modern furniture design.

“Following the Partition of India in 1947, it was determined that Punjab’s historic capital of Lahore fell within the boundaries of Pakistan. Eager to showcase the progress it had made following independence from British rule, the Indian government decided on the construction of a new state capital – the planned city of Chandigarh. A team of Western experts was assembled, including Jeanneret’s cousin, renowned Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier. The project reunited the two estranged relatives, who hadn’t seen one another since the outbreak of WWII: Jeanneret had joined the French Resistance, while Le Corbusier resolved to remain in Vichy-governed France. When Jeanneret was assigned to the production of furniture for Chandigarh, he wanted designs that could feasibly be manufactured in India, at an affordable cost. The application of Burmese teak and rattan came as a result of his desire to utilise materials capable of withstanding the region’s subtropical climate and dense insect population.

“My appreciation for Jeanneret’s work has changed over time. At first, it was the woven cane seats that piqued my curiosity. I also enjoyed the juxtaposition between structured, geometrical forms and the imperfect nature of a plant material like rattan. The chair’s highly recognisable ‘A/V’ shaped silhouette gradually then called my attention to the legs, and the manner in which these are joined.

“Unlike numerous furniture designs conceived during the mid-20th century that emulate sculptural forms or an aesthetic of fluidity, there is a raw, static quality (very nearly stoic) that runs through the Chandigarh chair. Even though it’s considered highly collectible today, Jeanneret never intended for his work to be commercially lucrative, much less displayed in museums. Simply put, it existed to serve a function. The almost retrofitted beauty of the Chandigarh encapsulates what I most admire about Jeanneret’s work – its modesty. Here, a cardinal rule of good design is apparent in that Jeanneret did not make the ‘look’ of his chair too affected.

“I’m fortunate enough to have one of these sitting in The Anthology’s showroom in Hong Kong. My team and I find that the principles underpinning its design intertwine with our own classic-yet-contemporary sensibility. In much the same way which we perceive tailored clothing, the Chandigarh is that magical halfway between timelessness and being à la mode. The chair’s emphasis on natural materials also heightens our own connection, as woven fibres are so central to the work of our brand, be it a pair of linen trousers or a simple camp-collar shirt.”

No shortlist concerning important mid-century chairs could be complete without a mention of the Eames lounge (1956); and we can think of few individuals better qualified to extol its virtues than Todd Levin. The veteran art advisor brings a scholarly rigour to the oftentimes hyperbolic conversation that surrounds the Eameses most’ well-known lounger: trading grandiose proclamations about the design’s “voluptuous luxury that few mortals since Nero have known” for a structured analysis of its development and technical idiosyncrasies.

Of the four series comprising the Eames chair’s production, Levin favours the Series 1: distinguished from successive generations by the inclusion of three hidden screws in the chair’s armrests, and boot-style glides for the ottoman feet. Beyond these details, the first series spawned a handful of productions that possessed features now considered atypical amongst discerning collectors. Thus, as Levin observes below, these prototypical examples are worthy of grail status:

“The Eameses are two of the most prolific figures in 20th century design and architecture. Ray and Charles were partners in life through marriage; and in work, through the Eames Office. As was the case for women during the mid-20th century, Ray’s contributions were often overlooked and she was not given proper credit for her impact within the Eames office. The designs of Charles and Ray Eames are ubiquitous: a certain well-loved ‘Lounge Chair and Ottoman’ particularly so.

“When somebody says “Eames Chair”, they usually mean this one. However, only the initial few Eames lounge chairs were accompanied by the noteworthy swivelling/spinning ottoman. The story goes that the Eameses worried a spinning ottoman might prove dangerous to young children and that it risked constantly bumping into the larger chair. So they decided to go with a fixed-base ottoman soon after the design entered production in 1956. The swivelling/spinning ottoman was quickly discontinued, within the first 50 or so chairs that were sold off the line. Basically, all of these were put together by hand, before the Lounge and Ottoman became popular and an assembly line was created for mass-produced manufacture.

“Within the community of knowledgeable collectors, an all-original matching 670/671 with spinning ottoman is the most coveted, sought-after variant – the stuff of Eames lounge chair legend. They rarely come along and surely denote the earliest productions: I’ve personally only seen about eight examples in my lifetime, including at The Museum of Modern Art and in photographs from the personal collection of Charles and Ray Eames. For those who are ever able to source one such as this, cherish it. This is, after all, the rarest of all lounge chairs and the ultimate collector’s grail.”

A noted designer, creative director and enthusiast of watches, Jaś Rewkiewicz’s résumé is nothing if not a testament to the transcendental nature of ‘good design’. Equally at home putting together campaigns for global sportswear brands as he is consulting for the French microbrand, Baltic, Rewkiewicz’s interest in furniture design stems from a longstanding fascination with dynamic tension: a quality that is equally sought after (and highly elusive) in the worlds of watchmaking and photography.

During his tenure at Aesōp, Rewkiewicz was exposed to the life and work of Charlotte Perriand: the modernist architect whose groundbreaking designs – frequently made in collaboration with Pierre Jeanneret and Le Corbusier – expressed a resolute commitment to “living in harmony with man’s environment”. Unfairly overshadowed by male contemporaries of her era, Perriand’s works have since become instrumental for those designers operating in a modern context. According to Rewkiewicz, the Chaise empilable Ombre, or Ombra Tokyo Chair (1954), is one of Perriand’s most affecting case studies: the culmination of her unique experiences as a European living and working in the Far East that, in many ways, is still revolutionary today:

“A few years ago, I was working on a project celebrating Charlotte Perriand for Aesōp, and had the pleasure to meet her daughter Pernette and her husband Jacques, who are the custodians of Charlotte’s legacy. This encounter broadened my impression of her work and design in general. The Chaise empilable Ombre really caught my attention back then as it is the perfect example of Perriand’s unique mix of influences and pure expression of her artistic vision.

“At just 24, Perriand began collaborating with Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret – adding a distinct dimension of humaneness to their often cold rationalism. Perriand travelled extensively, absorbing every experience and translating these into her own design language. During her long stay in Japan and Vietnam (1940-1946), she revealed her artistic talent through a reinterpreted reality where East meets West, echoing both tradition and modernity. Her designs are ‘perfectly imbalanced’ in a way, with a strong female sensibility that juxtaposes elements of yin (female) with yang (male).

“Interesting design, in my opinion, has always been about tension. Complex simplicity, bold refinement, and even beautiful flaws. The English designer and art director Peter Saville once said that if you like something straight away, it isn’t new, as taste is a habit. In order to innovate, you need to feel uncomfortable with your creation at first: leave it aside for a while, let it simmer, and see if it ends up growing on you.

“Deceptively simple, the Ombra Tokyo Chair is made from a single piece of cut, bent and curved oak plywood. Its sinuous lines evoke the Japanese traditions of origami and the Bunraku (theatre in which puppets are moved by black-clad puppeteers hiding in the shadows behind them). Perriand’s genius truly reveals itself when playing with angles and light, hence the name ‘Ombre’ (which translates as ‘shadow’). As I’ve mentioned previously, I like to experience design through photography and the way objects transform with the addition of light is something I’m always seeking in my own work.

“Another fascinating aspect about Perriand’s designs is her organic approach. While resolutely of the Machine Age, Perriand championed ‘nature as modernism’: a concept that clearly comes alive in the fluidity of the Ombra Tokyo. Fast forward to today and as Neri Oxman, designer and professor at the MIT Media Lab, has pointed out, for most of our history humanity has been attempting to tame nature – the future of design will be to co-create with it.

“In short, the Ombra was instrumental in paving the way for multiple principles which remain influential in the world of contemporary design today. I for one can’t wait to see how Perriand’s vision continues to evolve in future.”

Known to collectors for thoughtful, highly original timepieces like the detent-equipped RP1, we were delighted to tap the insights of Raúl Pagès – an independent watchmaker living and working in Les Brenets – for this discussion on influential chair designs. With an aesthetic that winks at the heritage of marine chronometers, the RP1’s ‘cerulean’ blue dial is itself another tantalising easter egg. It signifies the profound, life-long influence Le Corbusier has exerted over Pagès’s own creativity. The prodigious Swiss architect’s breakthroughs in industrial design and urban living are, for Pagès, just as inspiring as traditional watchmaking. Hence the decision to decorate the RP1 with a blue akin to those found in the Polychromie Architecturale (1959).

Pagès’s high regard for the works of Le Corbusier isn’t solely professional. At home, he and his wife favour a number of furniture designs envisioned by the ‘Crowlike One’ – the most characteristic of which is the LC1 (1928). As Pagès explains, the tubular structure encapsulates a number of focal themes that were present throughout Le Corbusier’s career: innovation, subtlety and an intensive preoccupation with building things fit for purpose.

“The LC1 is one of the most famous, emblematic pieces of furniture created by the renowned architect Charles-Edouard Jeanneret – better known as ‘Le Corbusier’. It was first presented in 1929 at the Salon d’Automne in Paris: its inspiration being the colonial chairs favoured by officers of the British Empire during the 19th century. Le Corbusier produced and signed the LC1 with companies including Thonet Frères from 1930 and then Cassina from 1965 onwards. It’s also important to note that the chair was a collaborative effort, designed in tandem with Pierre Jeanneret (Le Corbusier’s cousin) and Charlotte Perriand.

“Le Corbusier is an architectural genius and one of the main representatives of the ‘modern’ movement. He was the first architect to utilise reinforced concrete pillars inside buildings rather than the traditionally external, load-bearing wall. His work promoted elegance and simplicity of lines, which is an ethos that resonates particularly strongly with me. Born in the Swiss city of La Chaux-de-Fonds, it’s in this town (high in the canton of Neuchâtel) that Le Corbusier’s first and most influential creations were realised: the Villa Fallet, La Maison Blanche and the ‘Turkish Villa’. Having grown up in La Chaux-de-Fonds myself, Le Corbusier’s avant-garde structures have been a constant source of inspiration and fascination.

“Despite having chosen the path of the independent watchmaker over that of architect, I can say that my artistic approach likewise tends to sublimate purity of line and of design. I like when an object’s overarching design goes directly to its function, albeit the kind that possesses lots of detail when you look at it more closely. This is why I chose to talk about the LC1: it perfectly echoes the quintessence of my own work. This chair isn’t merely a work of art: it’s also a declaration of love to innovative design and beauty that is functional. It went against many norms of the early 20th century, but due to the clarity of its design, has stood the test of time. It consists of a chromium-plated tubular frame, creating a resolutely open structure. The only closed elements, the armrests, take the form of leather strips wrapped around the steel tubes – a marriage of forms and materials.

“Beyond all that the LC1 represents, it’s a design that is legendarily comfortable, especially if (like myself) you’re a guitarist. The leather straps that serve as the chair’s armrests are easily removable – a versatile feature that leaves room for one to rest their musical instrument across their leg.

“My wife and I are fortunate enough to own two original LC1s, produced by Cassina in 1968 – previously in the office of the design director of Knoll International. We acquired these at auction in 2017, originally as a wedding present, and have treasured them ever since.”

A UK-based commercial illustrator whose portfolio runs the list from Hodder & Stoughton to Xiaomi, Malcolm Fisher, is also the artist behind Iconic Chairs, a new artbook consisting of 28 culturally significant creations, rendered in irreverent comic-inspired detail. Very much at home in the age of digital content creation – he’s thus far minted four NFTs – Fisher has nevertheless nurtured a decidedly analogue interest in mid-century chairs – particularly those espousing the same optimistic, boldly coloured disposition apparent in his own work.

Outside the remit of professional illustration, Fisher evinces a deep attachment to the work of American design duo, Charles and Ray Eames. While it’s probably salient that the Eameses’ forays into low-cost furniture are now considered (in the 21st century) universally desirable, Fisher explains, his love for the DSR (1950) stems from simpler, more humanistic reasons. Conceived as an affordable, quasi-modular solution to the challenges of America’s post-war housing shortage, the ‘Dining height Side chair Rod base’ (as it’s more formally designated) surpassed its original brief to become a prized heirloom passed down through generations – as Fisher explains.

“My fascination with chairs is one that was passed down to me by my late mother-in-law. Before her death, she’d embarked upon a personal challenge to acquire eight entirely different classic designs to have around her dining table – each one being a talking point at dinner parties. Unfortunately, due to her passing, that challenge began and ended with an Eames DSR in bright orange that now sits around my dining table. It is, in my view, an absolute icon.

“Designed by Ray and Charles Eames in 1951, the DSR is more commonly referred to as the ‘Eiffel’, owing to its intricate metal legs resembling the tower of the same name. It’s fair to say that this particular chair epitomises everything I love about mid-century design: at once functional and aesthetically beautiful.

“In winter, the bright orange warms the room, but during summer the chair really comes alive: beaming beautiful shadows cast from its intricate legs. My friends and family often remark upon how beautiful it looks, so I suppose my mother-in-law’s idea to have it as a conversation starter worked. That inherited slice of design history sparked a deeper connection to chairs. But unlike my mother-in-law, affording all of them has proven a little more challenging: for now, drawing them will have to do. That is until my new book on the subject tops a bestseller list somewhere – fingers crossed.”