October 26, 2026
Restoring Heirlooms, Preserving Stories
By Clementina Verge
Photographs by Rana Faure
In a studio tucked along a quiet Norfolk road, restoration unfolds one stitch at a time. For artist Susannah Anderson, seat weaving is more than craftwork—it is an act of preservation, honoring the memories woven into every chair she restores.
Known for her annual exhibitions at The Art Barn in Norfolk, Anderson began weaving when her inlaws passed along a pair of deteriorating Mid-Century Modern chairs. The frames had remained beautiful, but the seats had collapsed with age. Instead of discarding them, she decided to learn to save them.
“I thought, surely they deserve another life,” Anderson says. After watching online tutorials and long days of practice, she became skilled in traditional weaving methods and eventually founded Anderson Seat Works, “chair repair with care.” Better known as chair caning, the ancient craft—originating in Egypt—threads natural or synthetic fibers through drilled holes to form durable seats and backs. Today, only a handful of people in the region do this work. Danish cording, holeto-hole caning, daisy patterns, fiber rush, rattan vines from Southeast Asia—the process is meticulous. A single chair can require several days of weaving, binding, and finishing. Yet for Anderson, this labor is meditative and rewarding.
“There’s something very satisfying about working with my hands,” she says. “Watching the patterns emerge, seeing the materials transform. It’s solitary work, but really joyful.” Her appreciation for craftsmanship began early. Her father, an architect, trained her eye for structure and intricacy, shaping her decades-long career as a scenic painter for theater productions across the country, including Hartford Stage and Seattle Opera.
But scenic painting also prompted a professional turning point. Years working around industrial paints and solvents caused health challenges she linked to prolonged exposure to fumes. Leaving that environment healed her, but also prompted her to reconsider her creative process.
That’s when she remembered the chairs. Today, Anderson restores heirlooms that many owners thought were beyond saving. A Hitchcock chair with worn arms. A French bentwood chair with mother-of pearl details. A century-old piece bearing a handwritten note inside its frame: “Made in West Winsted, May 23, 1911.” “Chairs have secrets,” she laughs. “I didn’t even know there had been a West Winsted in Connecticut.”
Anderson believes furniture absorbs the emotional imprint of the people who used it. The worn armrests, the softened edges—signs that this was someone’s favorite seat.
“Buying new might be cheaper,” she acknowledges. “But this is about saving a story. Someone’s loved one sat in that chair. Maybe a grandfather built it. Restoring it honors that family’s history.”
One recent restoration held particular emotional weight: a widow brought Anderson her late husband’s chair. It became usable again, the repair an act of remembrance.
New seating, Anderson notes, can extend a chair’s life by decades, carrying it into another generation. In an era of mass production, this testifies to patience, handcraft, and human connection. Beyond chair restoration, Anderson continues to paint landscapes, portraits, and pets. Whether holding a paintbrush or threading cord, her work remains the same: creating beauty one detail at a time. —andersonseatworks.com
