Hail the Wicker Throne
there was much to celebrate in the power of that chair
2007-09-18
By VeTalle Fusilier
As black Americans re-discovered their self-esteem in the 60’s, they reflected a new cultural aesthetic outwardly. That courageous assertion which manifests itself in hair and shoes that lifted us closer to heaven, also endowed most every black home with a throne: the wicker chair. The seat of power, the chair itself became a political/cultural icon , embedded in the American mindset in the historic photograph of Black Panther, Huey Newton. Ensconced on the throne, black leather jacket, weapon and facial expression, he gave visual birth to the noun, adjective and invective “militant”.
In the mid 1800’s, Cyrus Wakefield, an American grocer, began collecting rattan from the docks of Boston, where it was used to secure cargo on ships (no wonder we could find the thrones at Pier One, that world view emporium of malls and shopping districts). The grocer built his wicker rattan furniture business to the point his town renamed itself Wakefield to honor the jobs and prosperity he brought to the area.
After the Civil War, Heywood brothers made this furniture affordable, as they perfected an automated weaver, reducing production time and costs substantially. Together the Wakefield-Heywood company mass produced wicker furniture, and wicker became an icon in modern American furniture and a staple in American homes.
It was so right for the rediscovered kings and queens to have a throne of natural material, made of reeds and grass. A material that could be traced to Egyptian Pharoahs and the pyramids, which by virtue of the defiled lips and noses, convinced us that these were black faces destroyed to keep the legacy and our righteous acknowledgement a secret from the world, and from us. Often surrounded by plants, this chair became the seat of power, for elegance and evolution.
So, this royal chair became the seat of power, used to set the tone visually as well as identify the kings who ruled from that perch. Viet Nam veterans, families, home owners and apartment dwellers outfitted their homes with wicker thrones, enlivened their living space with plants for better air, and celebrated their new freedom in stereo with Pedro Bell, the Funkadelics, Ramsey Lewis’ Sun Goddess and Osibisa flying elephant album covers on their walls.
Many of us have long ago discarded the pictures taken of us on that wicker throne, embarrassed by the outfits, paranoid about the misinterpretation of the clenched fists, or just sad that we are now bald literally or figuratively, and can’t grow an Afro anymore.
And we have seen much of our proud self-declaration reasserting itself in Afro and braided hairstyles, kente fabric and mud cloth flourishes and jewelry. In our rec rooms, basements, and patios, there is wicker framed padded furniture, often just a thing to sit on. Perhaps it is our own comfort with our divine regality that allows us to play and relax on the royal precedent of our past.
VeTalle Fusilier is a producer and writer based in Washington, DC. It's pronounced VEE-tal few-suh-LEER.
