Niels Vodder

The first iteration of the Chieftain chair was executed by master cabinetmaker, Niels Vodder’s workshop in 1949. It has been said that Vodder made approximately 78 Chieftain chairs, but other experts suggest that it is probably over 100. Vodder’s workshop employed 5 cabinetmakers in 1958, a number which is sure to raise some eyebrows considering the high volume of furniture with Vodder’s stamp on it. Firsthand accounts from Vodder’s contemporaries describe him as the best cabinetmaker in Denmark.

Photo: Niel Vodder’s workshop in the 1950s. The Chieftain chair can be seen in the background.

An excerpt from Phillip’s Auction house is a wonderfully written overview of the early partnership between Juhl and Vodder;

Each year during the autumn Juhl presented designs at the Cabinetmakers’ Guild that were executed by Vodder. The synergy and symbiosis of these two artistic characters created masterpieces of 20th century design. In 1949, Juhl designed the ‘FJ 49 A’ armchair, which became primarily known as the ‘Chieftain’, a title rarely used by Juhl as he referred to it as the ‘Big Chair’. The Chieftain Chair when exhibited at the Cabinetmakers’ Guild was well received and described in Politiken as being ‘so full of life that it seems to be almost quivering with vitality. It is expensive and as delicate as a thoroughbred must be.’

Although the collaboration between Juhl, then aged twenty-five, and Vodder began in 1937, it was not until the breakthrough period of 1944-1949 at the Cabinetmakers’ Guild in which Juhl began to incorporate his burgeoning organic and percipient approach towards furniture design. The Chieftain Chair features handcrafted, accentuated and organic stiles. The stiles support the shield-formed backrest whilst elegantly revealing the interstice between the seat and the load-bearing legs. The following statement by Juhl is manifested within the construction of the ‘Chieftain’; ‘I have always been interested in analyzing a piece of furniture’s different parts, surely a consequence of my early excitement for Corbusier’s cubist architecture.’ Juhl continues to credit Le Corbusier further for the use of materials to, ‘accentuate different planes and load-bearing parts. Thus, the apparent separation of the upholstered parts and the visual frame’ (Per H. Hansen, Finn Juhl and His House, Ostfildern, 2014, p. 34). These distinctive, yet brief comments by Juhl amplify his pragmatic approach and reveal architectural principles, which he then applied to the design of the present lot.

In discussing Niels Vodder, the Danish architectural journalist Henrik Sten Møller refers to the cabinetmaker as an, ‘original craftsman with a distinct sense of humour.’ He then goes further to explain possibly why Vodder had ever agreed to collaborate with Juhl; ‘The reason why Niels Vodder became Finn Juhl’s cabinetmaker was that nobody else wanted to produce his furniture. They thought the furniture too strange and furthermore often technically complicated’ (Patricia Yamada, ed., Finn Juhl Memorial Exhibition, exh. cat., Osaka, 1990, p. 18).

Finn Juhl was always eager to assert that he functioned as an autodidact when designing furniture and that he was never formally trained. Finn Juhl does not imitate profundity; he does not leave us masterpieces of modern furniture but masterpieces of modern design. Edgar Kaufmann, Jr., whom Finn Juhl worked with extensively, reflects upon the architect in his essay, ‘Product and Process’: ‘His forms are masterful, now as when they were new. They are capable of a plenitude of embodiments still unexplored. Juhl is no performer, he is a creator. We need more of him.’ (Ibid, Finn Juhl Memorial Exhibition, p. 13).

Today, one of the earliest known Chieftain Chair resides in Finn Juhl’s house which is part of the Ordrupgaard Museum in Charlottenlund, Denmark. Another equally early chair can be seen at the Art Institute in Chicago.

Photo: Finn Juhl’s home in Charlottenlund, Denmark.

Most of the chairs Niels Vodder made were executed in teak, although he did make a few in walnut, mahogany, rosewood and even imbuia. The most common upholstery colours were black or natural undyed oxhide, and in the 1960s a rusty red colour was also introduced.

To achieve waffer–thin looking arms, Niels Vodder used plate steel with leather glued on to the surface. The arms were originally made out of planished plate steel, although in 1951 Finn Juhl refined the arms to be more shapely, at which point Niels Vodder experimented with cast steel before reverting back to planished plate steel in 1952.

Photo: Nordenfjeldske Kunstindustrimuseum, Interior 52. Trondheim, Norway

For a very insightful look into the way Niels Vodder had conducted his business, we can look to a very detailed excerpt from Ejnar Pedersen’s book, Handvaerk og Livsvaerk by Samuel Rachlinby;

(Translated from Danish)

Finn Juhl’s closest partner was of course Niels Vodder, who had worked for him right from the start, I think. I would go as far as to say that if we had no Niels Vodder, we would not have had the Finn Juhl we know today. When it came to his work, Vodder was never afraid to go out where the ice was thin. If you look at some of the furniture that Vodder made for Finn Juhl today, most people will say, "It can not be done. It can not be that way. "Some have suspected him to put some metal wire inside the furniture where you can not see it. Of course, I do not know about that, but I have often wondered how the hell he could keep things together. He was the cabinetmaker who took the worst part. But I have always had great respect for him - he was simply one of the best in the business.

Over time, Vodder and I developed a close cooperation, and I became a subcontractor to him. It started seriously with the Kaminstolen (NV45). We received orders of 50 pieces at a time. The strange thing was that Vodder did not even have a workshop, or rather a large one. His workshop in Nørrebro when I first visited him, I was very surprised when I discovered that the workshop was empty and there were no workers anywhere, but there was lots of finished furniture in the shop. Vodder had fabricated his things with other workshops. There was of course no such thing as outsourcing at the time, but it was actually what Vodder did already in the early 50's. He had subcontractors at Falster and every other place. When I saw the workshop for the first time, I met only one man who stood most back in the room and worked, but I could not talk to him because he was deaf (Berner Mogensen). I later hired that cabinetmaker at P.P. when Vodder closed down his business and he is still working on P.P.

Finn Juhl's No. 45 Chair, was produced by P.P. Furniture as a subcontractor to Niels Vodder. But we produced the Kaminstolen, and as soon as the frame arrived at Vodder’s workshop they were stamped with his name, and they immediately shipped off to Den Permanente. They sold like hotcakes. We made the frame, and I think it was Ivan Schlecher who stood for the padding. It was therefore part of Vodder's business model, which meant that many of the Kaminstole and probably other furniture, stamped with Niels Vodder, were actually made at P.P. or another workshop. But I think now that for example. Finn Juhl's Chief Chair, Vodder has made at his own workshop, and he has had different journeymen other than the deaf man (Berner Mogensen), but I have just not seen them. Vodder himself was a divine wizard, no doubt about it. But he was also a good businessman. He was making a lot of money, and at one point he decided to move to Allerød, where he built a fabulous beautiful workshop in the industrial area with machine workshop, drying room, collector's shop and showroom. There was all that had to be, and he also built a private residence next to the workshop.

Vodder was very pleased with PP, and when he got the first Kaminstole from us, he said that they had never been so beautiful. So we got the green light which meant something to us with the security that lay in it. So I invested in large amounts of wood and templates and what else was required to keep such a production running. Everyone was happy. But when he had gotten his own workshop in Allerød, one day he went cycling to Toftevej to tell me that now they wanted to make the Kaminstolen themselves. He had already snatched one of my machine shutters and thought that they could equally stand for the manufacture of those frames. It was okay for me, because I had learned to accept that kind of situation, there was aways another job to take its place. Before he left, Vodder said that now I would not need my templates for the chair anymore, so he would like to have them. I also had no problem with that and said that he could have them.

Next time he came, I had set out the templates, and forms for him. He looked at it and said that everything looked fine, and he would like it. So I mentioned my price and he was surprised.

"Do you want money for that?”, Vodder said.

"Yes, because I've invested in it.”, Pedersen said.

"Well, it’s of no use to you now because you can not make that chair any more."

"No, that's right," I said, "but then I just have to take the loss."

Vodder would not pay for it, and then I ended up taking the loss. Vodder never came to make that chair again, because his business was under pressure, and of course this was unfortunate for him. It took a lot of years, but Vodder came over to our shop at Toftevej and offered to sell his business to me. But I was already looking to expand my shop because I could buy the neighbouring property. But as it went for us, I needed more space, and the shop Vodder built was beautiful. So I was interested, and after talking about it for some time, we agreed to make a deal. He would sell and I would like to buy. We got the papers under, and I put my own workshop on Toftevej for sale. I sold that quickly to someone who was interested in starting a metal production.

But two days before we were to write the last papers below, I was called by Vodder's son, Peter.

"I hear you bought my father's business," he said.

"Yes, that's true."

"Can I ask that you do one thing for me? That you stick to the agreement and complete your purchase. Because I can promise you that tomorrow my father calls and says he has regretted! I know him."

"Well, he can not, because we have signed, and I've sold my own workshop. So he can not regret it anymore."

"Well, that's good. I'm glad to hear that."

The next day, Vodder called.

"You have to apologize, but I can not sell my workshop. We must drop that deal. "

"We can not. You will have to sell, because now I have sold my own workshop. And we have an agreement that you have signed. So we must stick to that. "

The day we had to sign at twelve, I visited Toftevej by the buyer who would take over my workshop. He told me how much he was looking forward to getting started and getting started, but he just wanted to go to the town hall and say goodbye to the local people. He would never have done that, because when he came back to me at half past twelve, I could see immediately something wrong.

"Now it's all gone in the sink!" He exclaimed. "There was one of the engineers I spoke to saying that I'm not allowed to run such a production here. The municipality will never let me go. "

The problem was something with pollution and noise in a residential area, and I realized there was nothing to shut up, so I called Vodder and told him he could keep his workshop, because my trade had just gone into the sink. That made it happen. But when I had wondered about it for a couple of days, I thought, "The local people should not run around corners with me." Because I knew that the production the buyer wanted to have would not produce any noise, odors or environmental problems. The engineer in the town hall did not have an understanding of it. I contacted a lawyer, whom I knew was good at dealing with problems with the municipality, and presented the case to him. But before that happened, I was called by my bank, whose director told me that the municipality would like to meet with me and talk about the situation. The director's wife was employed by the municipality. A meeting was held and it turned out they were embarrassed at the town hall when they found out that they had made a mistake. I came to the meeting and there sat the mayor, the municipal director, the engineer, a lawyer and a few others, and so little me, the snedker from Toftevej.

"I can understand that we have made a problem for you," said the mayor. "We are really sorry because it turns out that it was a misunderstanding and that the sale was dropped on an incorrect basis. So that's our fault here. What can we do now for you? "

"I do not know," I replied. "It was a good deal, and I missed it. It would have solved my workshop size problems."

"Can we make this right by paying for a replacement?"

"Money will not make any difference in that situation. What I need is more space. "

"Well, let's look at it," said the mayor. "You have to submit an application and then we have to look at it."

The case ended with the fact that we were allowed to expand the workshop once more, and we can say that the failed trade is the reason that PP Furniture is still there where we started 60 years ago. We have never had problems with the authorities or neighbors who come with their wheelbarrows to pick up sawdust, planks or burn wood in their wood burning stoves. After all years, I can only say that I am very pleased that we are sitting where we are. Niels Vodder stayed for some years in his workshop, but then business went down and he had to close. I think that was the end of Niels Vodder's chapter in the Danish furniture chapter. It affected us because we all thought of how the smaller, self-made carpenters would manage when the best in the industry were forced to sell and close. It turned out that our concerns were not groundless.

Photo: Ejnar Pedersen, owner of P.P. Møbler