Sitting Pretty In Canaan: Technicolor Chairs Beget A Work Of Art…And A Mystery
At the intersection of Routes 295 and 22 in Canaan, New York, an art installation lines the property of the Canaan General Store. It’s not an intentional one, not really, but the rows of technicolor Adirondack chairs, hues sorted in pleasing patterns, has that effect. The installation has been out there for years, the hundreds of chairs looking at once ghostly and cheerful, day and night, impervious to the elements and never chained up. And I know, I know what you’re thinking, because it’s what my friends and I think every time we pass by: don’t any of those chairs ever get stolen?
Being the investigative reporter I purport to be, I did some digging for those of you as curious as I am and got a sort-of definitive answer. But let me leave you hanging for a bit. (What’s another couple of minutes considering how long you’ve been wondering?)
The Store
I love writing about things that necessitate a field trip, and this one required me to make a visit to the Canaan General Store itself. Owned by a Mennonite family, it’s everything you’d want in a rural country store: hardware and paint, home and garden supplies, grocery items, baked goods, and a deli counter. You can order sandwiches on a slip of paper, checking off your choice of meats, cheeses, bread, toppings and dressing. Greeted by the aroma of nutmeg wafting through the air, I knew there would be pies and cookies, but what really magnetized me were rows upon rows of boxed-up candy and trail mixes. I mean, a lot of rows. Talk about a kid in a candy store.
I’m nothing but disciplined though: It’s always work before pleasure (shopping). The store’s owner, Crist Byler, was kind enough to answer my questions in between a steady stream of customers. He owns the store, he told me, but not the property, and the landlord is the manufacturer of not just the chairs but also the dining sets and sheds surrounding the store. The chairs are constructed of poly lumber made from recycled plastic jugs, so they’re eco friendly and weather resistant. Unlike many Adirondack chairs, these fold up for easy storage. They sell for $425.
Having determined that I’d gotten about as much information as I was going to get from Mr. Byler — including a contact name and phone number for the maker of the chairs — I ordered a cheese sandwich and picked out my goodies. Loading up with candy (chocolate Bit ‘O Honey!), sunflower seeds, and lemon bars, I marveled at the multicolored offerings of gelatin and the rainbow selection of gourmet sugars. I sat in a white Adirondack chair in front of the store to eat my sandwich, because it was a sunny day, and why not?
The Manufacturer
Countryside Woodcraft may sound familiar to you — one of its showrooms sits on Route 66 in Ghent. There, since 2006, and for 20-some years at its home base in Russell, Massachusetts, Countryside Woodcraft has been selling custom kitchens. It started as a workshop headed by two men whose mission was to provide job opportunities for young men and teach them the art of craftsmanship by building chairs. But nowhere in their quite elegant catalog is evidence of their origin as chair makers. For that, I spoke to a couple of people at the Russell showroom, finally to be referred to Jerald Reinford, one of the company’s owners. He tells me they learned their skills from Mennonite furniture makers in Pennsylvania. Their reputation grew and kitchen (and bedroom and living room) cabinetry became the focus of their business.
But how, I asked, do you handcraft so many of those Adirondack chairs?
“We have friends in Pennsylvania who make them for us,” Reinford says. “They make them in different shops.”
Who does the placement of the chairs outside of the general store, and do you purposely make set them out in such an artful manner?
“We do it, and we try to make it look nice.”
And finally, the million-dollar question. Have any of the chairs been stolen overnight?
The answer was almost word for word the response I got from Crist Byler: “Not that I know of.”
Then Reinford pauses. “I couldn’t say for sure if one doesn’t disappear now and then,” he says.
I should probably let it go and embrace the mystery, but— call me cynical — I know every time I hit that intersection, intrigued by that vast open display, I’m still going to be left wondering.
Editor Lisa Green with her haul from the Canaan General Store.
Please Support Rural Intelligence
We want to continue delivering the entertaining, informative and upbeat stories in the inimitable Rural Intelligence style, despite a pandemic. But we need your support to keep us going. Please consider making a donation; even a small amount helps secure our future. Support us now.
(If you prefer, mail a check to: 45 Pine Grove Ave., Suite 303, Kingston, NY 12401.)
Support Now