Chair

Chair (pronounced cherr)

(1) A seat, especially if designed for one person, usually with four legs (though other designs are not uncommon) for support and a rest for the back, sometimes with rests for the arms (as distinct from a sofa, stool, bench etc).

(2) Something which serves as a chair or provides chair-like support (often used in of specialized medical devices) and coined as required (chairlift, sedan chair, wheelchair etc).

(3) A seat of office or authority; a position of authority such as a judge.

(4) In academic use, a descriptor of a professorship.

(5) The person occupying a seat of office, especially the chairperson (the nominally gendered term “chairman” sometimes still used, even of female or non-defined chairs).

(6) In an orchestra, the position of a player, assigned by rank (1^st chair, 2^nd chair etc).

(7) In informal use, an ellipsis of electric chair (often in the phrase “Got the chair” (ie received a death sentence)).

(8) In structural engineering, the device used in reinforced-concrete construction to maintain the position of reinforcing rods or strands during the pouring operation.

(9) In glass-blowing, a glassmaker's bench having extended arms on which a blowpipe is rolled in shaping glass.

(10) In railroad construction, a metal block for supporting a rail and securing it to a crosstie or the like (mostly UK).

(11) To place or seat in a chair.

(12) To install in office.

(13) To preside over a committee, board, tribunal etc or some ad hoc gathering; to act as a chairperson.

(14) To carry someone aloft in a sitting position after a triumph or great achievement (mostly UK and performed after victories in sport).

(15) In chemistry, one of two possible conformers of cyclohexane rings (the other being boat), shaped roughly like a chair.

(16) A vehicle for one person; either a sedan chair borne upon poles, or a two-wheeled carriage drawn by one horse (also called a gig) (now rare).

(17) To award a chair to the winning poet at an eisteddfod (exclusive to Wales).

1250-1300: From the Middle English chayer, chaire, chaiere, chaere, chayre & chayere, from the Old French chaiere & chaere (chair, seat, throne), from the Latin cathedra (seat), from the Ancient Greek καθέδρα (kathédra), the construct being κατά (katá) (down) + ἕδρα (hédra) (seat).  It displaced the native stool and settle, which shifted to specific meanings.  The twelfth century modern French chaire (pulpit, throne) in the sixteenth century separated in meaning when the more furniture came to be known as a chaise (chair).  Chair is a noun & verb and chaired & chairing are verbs; the noun plural is chairs.

The figurative sense of "seat of office or authority" emerged at the turn of the fourteenth century and originally was used of professors & bishops (there once being rather more overlap between universities and the Church).  That use persisted despite the structural changes in both institutions but it wasn’t until 1816 the meaning “office of a professor” was extended from the mid-fifteenth century sense of the literal seat from which a professor conducted his lectures.  Borrowing from academic practice, the general sense of “seat of a person presiding at meeting” emerged during the 1640s and from this developed the idea of a chairman, although earliest use of the verb form “to chair a meeting” appears as late as 1921.  Although sometimes cited as indicative of the “top-down” approach taken by second-wave feminism, although it was in the 1980s that the term chairwoman (woman who leads a formal meeting) first attained general currency, it had actually been in use since 1699, a coining apparently thought needed for mere descriptive accuracy rather than an early shot in the culture wars, chairman (occupier of a chair of authority) having been in use since the 1650s and by circa 1730 it had gained the familiar meaning “member of a corporate body appointed to preside at meetings of boards or other supervisor bodies”.  By the 1970s however, the culture wars had started and the once innocuous “chairwoman” was to some controversial, as was the gender-neutral alternative “chairperson” which seems first to have appeared in 1971.  Now, most seem to have settled on “chair" which seems unobjectionable although presumably, linguistic structuralists could claim it’s a clipping of (and therefore implies) “chairman”.

Chairbox offers a range of “last shift” coffin-themed chairs, said to be ideal for those "stuck in a dead-end job, sitting on a chair in a cubicle".  The available finishes include walnut (left) and for those who enjoy being reminded of cremation, charcoal wood can be used for the seating area (right).  An indicative list price is Stg£8300 (US$10,400) for a Last Shift trimmed in velvet.

The slang use as a short form of electric chair dates from 1900 and was used to refer both to the physical device and the capital sentence.  In interior decorating, the chair-rail was a timber molding fastened to a wall at such a height as would prevent the wall being damaged by the backs of chairs.  First documented in 1822, chair rails are now made also from synthetic materials.  The noun wheelchair (also wheel-chair) dates from circa 1700, and one so confined is said sometimes to be “chair bound”.  The high-chair (an infant’s seat designed to make feeding easier) had probably been improvised for centuries but was first advertised in 1848.  The term easy chair (a chair designed especially for comfort) dates from 1707.  The armchair (also arm-chair), a "chair with rests for the elbows", although a design of long-standing, was first so-described in the 1630s and the name outlasted the contemporary alternative (elbow-chair).  The adjectival sense, in reference to “criticism of matters in which the critic takes no active part” (armchair critic, armchair general etc) dates from 1879.  In academic use, although in the English-speaking world the use of “professor” seems gradually to be changing to align with US practice, the term “chair” continues in its traditional forms: There are chairs (established professorships), named chairs (which can be ancient or more recent creations which acknowledge the individual, family or institution providing the endowment which funds the position), personal chairs (whereby the title professor (in some form) is conferred on an individual although no established position exists), honorary chairs (unpaid appointments) and even temporary chairs (which means whatever the institution from time-to-time says it means).

In universities, the term “named chair” refers usually to a professorship endowed with funds from a donor, typically bearing the name of the donor or whatever title they nominate and the institution agrees is appropriate.  On rare occasions, named chairs have been created to honor an academic figure of great distinction (usually someone with a strong connection with the institution) but more often the system exists to encourage endowments which provide financial support for the chair holder's salary, research, and other academic activities.  For a donor, it’s a matter both of legacy & philanthropy in that a named chair is one of the more subtle and potentially respectable forms of public relations and a way to contribute to teaching & research in a field of some interest or with a previous association.

Professor Michael Simons (official photograph issued by Yale University's School of Medicine).

So it can be a win-win situation but institutions do need to practice due diligence in the process of naming or making appointments to named chairs as a long running matter at Yale University demonstrates.  In 2013, an enquiry convened by Yale found Professor Michael Simons (b 1957) guilty of sexual harassment and suspended him as Chief of Cardiology at the School of Medicine.  Five years on, the professor accused Yale of “punishing him again” for the same conduct in a gender-discriminatory effort to appease campus supporters of the #MeToo movement which had achieved national prominence.  That complaint was prompted when Professor Simons was in 2018 appointed to, and then asked to resign from a named chair, the Robert W Berliner Professor of Medicine, endowed by an annual grant of US$500,000 from the family of renal physiologist, Robert Berliner (1915-2002).  Professor Simons took his case to court and early in 2024 at a sitting of federal court ruled, he obtained a ruling in his favour, permitting him to move to trial, Yale’s motion seeing a summary judgment in all matters denied, the judge fining it appropriate that two of his complaints (one on the basis of gender discrimination in violation of Title VII of the Civil Rights Act (1964) and one under Title IX of the Education Amendments Act (1972)) should be heard before a jury.  The trial judge noted in his judgment that there appeared to be a denial of due process in 1918 and that happened at a time when (as was not disputed), Yale was “the subject of news reports criticizing its decision to reward a sexual harasser with an endowed chair.”

What the documents presented in Federal court revealed was that Yale’s handling of the matter had even within the institution not without criticism.  In 2013 the University-Wide Committee on Sexual Misconduct found the professor guilty of sexual harassment and he was suspended (but not removed) as chief of cardiology at the School of Medicine.  Internal documents subsequently leaked to the New York Times (NYT) revealed there were 18 faculty members dissatisfied with that outcome and a week after the NYT sought comment from Yale, it was announced Simons would be removed from the position entirely and in November 2014, the paper reported that Yale had also removed him from his position as director of its Cardiovascular Research Center.  Simons alleges that these two additional actions were taken in response to public reaction to the stories published by the NYT but the university disputed that, arguing the subsequent moves were pursuant to the findings of an internal “360 review” of his job performance.  In 2018, Simons was asked to relinquish the Berliner chair on the basis he would be appointed instead to another endowed chair.  In the documents Simons filed in Federal Court, this request came after “one or more persons … sympathetic to the #MeToo movement” contacted the Berliner family encouraging them to demand that the University remove Simons from the professorship, prompting Yale, “fearing a backlash from the #MeToo activists and hoping to placate them,” to “began exploring” his removal from the chair.

School of Medicine, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut, USA.

Later in 2018, Simons was duly appointed to another named chair, prompting faculty members, students and alumni to send an open letter to Yale’s president expressing “disgust and disappointment” at the appointment.  The president responded with a formal notice to Simmons informing him he had 24 hours to resign from the chair, and Simmons also alleges he was told by the president of “concerns” the institution had about the public criticism.  In October 2019, Simons filed suit against Yale (and a number of individuals) on seven counts: breach of contract, breach of the implied warranty of fair dealing, wrongful discharge, negligent infliction of emotional distress, breach of privacy, and discrimination on the basis of gender under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972.   Three of these (wrongful discharge, negligent infliction of emotional distress and breach of privacy) were in 2020 struck-out in Federal Court and this was the point at which Yale sought summary judgment for the remainder.  This was partially granted but the judge held that the matter of gender discrimination in violation of Title VII and Title IX needed to be decided by a jury.  A trial date has not yet been set but it will be followed with some interest.  While all cases are decided on the facts presented, it’s expected the matter may be an indication of the current state of the relative strength of “black letter law” versus “prevailing community expectations”.

Personal chair: Lindsay Lohan adorning a chair.

The Roman Catholic Church’s dogma of papal infallibility holds that a pope’s rulings on matters of faith and doctrine are infallibility correct and cannot be questioned.  When making such statements, a pope is said to be speaking ex cathedra (literally “from the chair” (of the Apostle St Peter, the first pope)).  Although ex cathedra pronouncements had been issued since medieval times, as a point of canon law, the doctrine was codified first at the First Ecumenical Council of the Vatican (Vatican I; 1869–1870) in the document Pastor aeternus (shepherd forever).  Since Vatican I, the only ex cathedra decree has been Munificentissimus Deus (The most bountiful God), issued by Pius XII (1876–1958; pope 1939-1958) in 1950, in which was declared the dogma of the Assumption; that the Virgin Mary "having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory".  Pius XII never made explicit whether the assumption preceded or followed earthly death, a point no pope has since discussed although it would seem of some theological significance.  Prior to the solemn definition of 1870, there had been decrees issued ex cathedra.  In Ineffabilis Deus (Ineffable God (1854)), Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, an important point because of the theological necessity of Christ being born free of sin, a notion built upon by later theologians as the perpetual virginity of Mary.  It asserts that Mary "always a virgin, before, during and after the birth of Jesus Christ", explaining the biblical references to brothers of Jesus either as children of Joseph from a previous marriage, cousins of Jesus, or just folk closely associated with the Holy Family.

Technically, papal infallibility may have been invoked only the once since codification but since the early post-war years, pontiffs have found ways to achieve the same effect, John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) & Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) both adept at using what was in effect a personal decree a power available to one who sits at the apex of what is in constitutional terms an absolute theocracy.  Critics have called this phenomenon "creeping infallibility" and its intellectual underpinnings own much to the tireless efforts of Benedict XVI while he was head of the Inquisition (by then called the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) and now renamed the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF)) during the late twentieth century.  The Holy See probably doesn't care but DDF is also the acronym, inter-alia, for "drug & disease free" and (in gaming) "Doom definition file".  There's also the DDF Network which is an aggregator of pornography content.

The “chair” photo (1963) of Christine Keeler (1942-2017) by Hong Kong Chinese photographer Lewis Morley (1925-2013) (left) and Joanne Whalley-Kilmer (b 1961) in Scandal (1989, a Harvey Weinstein (b 1952) production) (centre).  The motif was reprised by Taiwanese-American photographer Yu Tsai (b 1975) in his sessions for the Lindsay Lohan Playboy photo-shoot; it was used for the cover of the magazine’s January/February 2012 issue (right).  Ms Lohan wore shoes for some of the shoot but these were still "nudes" because "shoes don't count"; everybody knows that. 

The Profumo affair was one of those fits of morality which from time-to-time would afflict English society in the twentieth century and was a marvellous mix of class, sex, spying & money, all things which make an already good scandal especially juicy.  The famous image of model Christine Keeler, nude and artfully positioned sitting backwards on an unexceptional (actually a knock-off) plywood chair, was taken in May 1963 when the moral panic over the disclosure Ms Keeler simultaneously was enjoying the affection of both a member of the British cabinet and a Soviet spy.  John Profumo (1915-2006) was the UK’s Minister for War (the UK cabinet retained the position until 1964 although it was disestablished in the US in 1947) who, then 46, was found to be conducting an adulterous affair with the then 19 year old topless model at the same time she (presumably as her obviously crowded schedule permitted) fitted in trysts with a KGB agent, attached to the Soviet embassy with the cover of naval attaché.  Although there are to this day differing interpretations of the scandal, there have never been any doubts this potential Cold-War conduit between Moscow and Her Majesty’s Secretary of State for War represented at least a potential conflict of interest.  The fallout from the scandal ended Profumo’s political career, contributed to the fall of Harold Macmillan’s (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963) government and was one of a number of the factors in the social changes which marked English society in the 1960s.  Woken from his sleep to be told the scandal was about to break, Macmillan remarked: "Well, at least it was with a woman".

Commercially & technically, photography then was a different business and the “chair” image was the last shot on a 12-exposure film, all taken in less than five minutes at the end of a session which hurriedly had been arranged because Ms Keeler had signed a contract which included a “nudity” clause for photos to be used as “publicity stills” for a proposed film about the scandal.  As things turned out, the film was never released (not until Scandal (1989) one would appear) but the photograph was leaked to the tabloid press, becoming one of the more famous of the era although later feminist critiques would deconstruct the issues of exploitation they claimed were inherent.  Playboy’s editors would not be unaware of the criticism but the use of a chair to render a nude image SFW (suitable for work) remains in the SOP (standard operating procedures) manual.

Contact sheet from photoshoot, Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum: exhibit E.2830-2016.

Before the “nude” part which concluded the session, two rolls of film had already been shot with the subject sitting in various positions (on the chair and the floor) while “wearing” a small leather jerkin.  At that point the film’s producers mentioned the “nude” clause.  Ms Keeler wasn’t enthusiastic but the producers insisted so all except subject and photographer left the room and the last roll was shot, some of the earlier poses reprised while others were staged, the last, taken with the camera a little further away with the subject in what Mr Morley described as “a perfect positioning”, was the “chair” shot.

The “Keeler Chair” (left) and an Arne Jacobsen Model 3107 (right).

Both chair & the gelatin-silver print of the photograph are now in the collections of London’s Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum (the photograph exhibit E.2-2002; the chair W.10-2013).  Although often wrongly identified a Model 3107 (1955) by Danish modernist architect & furniture designer Arne Jacobsen (1902-1971), it’s actually an example of one of a number of inexpensive knock-offs produced in the era.  Mr Morley in 1962 bought six (at five shillings (50c) apiece) for his studio and it’s believed his were made in Denmark although the identity of the designer or manufacturer are unknown.  Unlike a genuine 3107, the knock-off has a handle cut-out (in a shape close to a regular trapezoid) high on the back, an addition both functional and ploy typical of those used by knock-off producers seeking to evade accusations of violations of copyright.  Structurally, a 3017 uses a thinner grade of plywood and a more subtle molding.  The half-dozen chairs in Mr Morley’s studio were mostly unnoticed office furniture until Ms Keeler lent one its infamy although they did appear in others of his shoots including those from his session with television personality & interviewer Sir David Frost (1939–2013) and it’s claimed the same chair was used for both.  In London’s second-hand shops it’s still common to see the knock-offs (there were many) described as “Keeler” chairs and Ms Lohan’s playboy shoot was one of many in which the motif has been used.  The obvious choice of pose for Joanne Whalley-Kilmer’s promotional shots for the 1989 film in which she played Ms Keeler, it appeared also on the the covers of the DVD & Blu-ray releases 

Old Smoky, the electric chair once used in the Tennessee prison system, Alcatraz East Crime Museum.  "Old Sparky" was once the preferred but in modern use "the chair" seems to have prevailed.

"Then we'd get the chair": The Simpsons, season six.

Crooked Hillary Clinton in pantsuit.

Although the numbers did bounce around a little, polling by politico.com found that typically about half of Republican voters believe crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) should be locked up while fewer than 2% think she should “get the chair”, apparently on the basis of her being guilty of something although some might just find her “really annoying” and take the pragmatic view a death sentence would remove at least that problem from their life.  The term “electric chair” is most associated with the device used for executions but is also common slang to describe other machinery including electric wheelchairs and powered (heat, cooling or movement) seats or chairs of many types.  First used in the US during the 1890s, like the guillotine, the electric chair was designed as a more humane (ie faster) method of execution compared with the then common hanging where death could take minutes.  Now rarely used (and in some cases declared unconstitutional as a “cruel & unusual punishment”), in some US states, technically it remains available including as an option the condemned may choose in preference to lethal injection or the firing squad.

Electric Chair Suite (1971) screen print decology by Andy Warhol.

Based on a newspaper photograph (published in 1953) of the death chamber at Sing Sing Prison in New York, where US citizens Julius (1918-1953) & Ethel Rosenberg (1915-1953) were that year executed as spies, Andy Warhol (1928–1987) produced a number of versions of Electric Chair, part of the artist’s Death and Disaster series which, beginning in 1963, depicted imagery such as car crashes, suicides and urban unrest.  The series was among the many which exploited his technique of transferring a photograph in glue onto silk, a method which meant each varied in some slight way.  His interest was two-fold: (1) what is the effect on the audience of render the same image with variations and (2) if truly gruesome pictures repeatedly are displayed, is the effect one of reinforcement or desensitization?  His second question was later revisited as the gratuitous repetition of disturbing images became more common as the substantially unmediated internet achieved critical mass.  The first of the Electric Chair works was created in 1964.

Holy

Holy (pronounced hoh-lee)

(1) Specially recognized as or declared sacred by religious use or authority; consecrated.

(2) Dedicated or devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion; godly, or virtuous; of, relating to, or associated with God or a deity; sacred.

(3) Saintly; godly; pious; devout; having a spiritually pure quality; endowed or invested with extreme purity or sublimity.

(4) Entitled to worship or veneration as or as if sacred.

(5) A place of worship; sacred place; sanctuary.

(6) Inspiring fear, awe, or grave distress (archaic).

Pre 900: From the Middle English holi & hali, from the Old English hālig, hāleġ & hǣlig, (holy, consecrated, sacred, venerated, godly, saintly, ecclesiastical, pacific, tame), a variant of the Old English hālig, hǣlig & hāleg, the construct being hāl (whole) + -eg (-y), from the Proto-West Germanic hailag, from Proto-Germanic hailaga & hailagaz (holy, bringing health).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon hēlag, the Gothic hailags the Dutch & German heilig, the Old Frisian helich and the Old Norse heilagr.  Ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European kóhzilus (healthy, whole).  It was adopted at conversion for the Latin sanctus although the Middle English form emerged as holi which remained a common spelling until the sixteenth century.  Holy is a nown & adjective. holiness (the spellings holinesse, holyness & holynesse all obsolete) is a noun and holier & holiest are adjectives; the noun plural is holies.  The noun holiosity is non-standard and is used in humor when referring to those for who religion has become an obsession and often one they think should be imposed on others.

Lindsay Lohan bringing holiness, Machete (2010).  The weapon is a Smith & Wesson .50 Magnum revolver with 8" barrel (S&W500: SKU 163501).

The primary (pre-Christian) meaning is not possible to determine; documentary evidence simply doesn’t exist but most think it probably meant something like “that must be preserved whole or intact, that cannot be transgressed or violated” and was connected with the Old English hal (health) and the Old High German heil (health, happiness, good luck (source of the German salutation Heil which became so well-known in the 1930s)).  Holy water was in Old English and holy has been used as an intensifying word from 1837 and used in expletives since the 1880s; a “holy terror” generally meaning “a difficult or frightening person” but which in Irish informal use means a man thought a habitual gambler, womanizer etc.  The adjectival forms are holier (comparative) & holiest (superlative) while the noun plural is holies but “the holy” functions as a plural when referring to persons or things (eh holy relics) invested with holiness.  When used in a religious context, it’s common to use an initial capital and probably obligatory when referencing the Christian God, or Christ.  The old alternative spellings holi, hali, holie & hooly are all obsolete.  Words that depending on context may be synonymous or merely related include divine, hallowed, humble, pure, revered, righteous, spiritual, sublime, believing, clean, devotional, faithful, good, innocent, moral, perfect, upright, angelic, blessed & chaste.

The Old Testament's Book of Leviticus is regarded by many as a long list of proscriptions, noted especially for the things declared an abomination to the Lord and within the text (Leviticus 17-26) that surprisingly succinct list is known as the “Holiness code” (often referred to in biblical scholarship as the “H texts”), "Holy" in this context understood as “set apart”.  The Holiness code exists explicitly as the set of fundamental rules which the ancient Israelites were required to follow believed they had to follow in order to be close to God and in that sense are the foundational basis for all the moral imperatives in scripture.  What makes them especially interesting historically is the suggestion by a number of scholars that additional laws, written in a style discordant with the rest of the Holiness Code yet in accord with the remainder of Leviticus, were interpolated into the code by a later priest or priests, notably some concerning matters of ritual and procedure hardly in keeping with high moral tone of the apparently original entries.  The contested passages include:

The prohibition against an anointed high priest uncovering his head or rending his clothes (21:10).

The prohibition against offerings by Aaronic priests who are blemished (21:21–22).

The order to keep the sabbath, passover, and feast of unleavened bread (23:1–10a).

The order to keep Yom Kippur, and Sukkot (23:23–44).

The order for continual bread and oil (24:1–9).

Case law concerning a blasphemer (24:10–15a and 24:23).

The order for a trumpet sounding on Yom Kippur (25:9b).

Rules concerning redeeming property (25:23 and 25:26–34).

Order to release Israelite slaves at the year of jubilee (25:40, 25:42, 25:44–46).

Rules concerning redeeming people (25:48–52, and 25:54).

The Holy Alliance

The Holy Alliance (styled in some contemporary documents as “The Grand Alliance”) was something not quite a treaty yet more than a modus vivendi (memorandum of agreement).  Executed soon after the conclusion of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815), it linked three of the monarchist great states of Europe (Austria, Prussia, and Russia) and existed very much at the behest of Tsar Alexander I (1777–1825; Emperor of Russia from 1801-1825) who had observed the French Revolution (1789) and the convulsions which spread across the continent in its wake and, having little taste for the idea of the mob leading kings to their execution by the guillotine, sought an alliance which would hold in check the forces of secular liberalism.  It was a moment something like that noted by George VI (1895–1952; King of the United Kingdom 1936-1952) who, traveling through the Surrey countryside, pointed at Runnymede (where in 1215 the Magna Carta was forced on a reluctant King John (1166–1216; King of England 1199-1216), saying to his companion: "That's where the trouble started."  

The origin of the Holy Alliance, 1815.

The Tsar envisaged the UK being part of the Holy Alliance but Lord Castlereagh (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) belonged to the long tradition of trying not become involved in European affairs unless necessary and called it “sublime mysticism and nonsense.”  The troubled Castlereagh committed suicide and in his papers there's no indication of the sense in which he used the word "sublime" but in late fourteenth century it was used as a verb meaning "alchemy".

So inconsequential did Castle think the treaty that he anyway recommended it be joined by the UK, a course of action the Cabinet declined to pursue and the supportive gesture of George IV (1762–1830; prince regent of the UK 1911-1820, king 1820-1830) adding his signature as King of Hanover had the most negligible political or military significance.  Despite London’s reserve, Austria, Prussia, Russia, & the UK did later in 1815 formalize the Quadruple Alliance which had for some time existed in effect to counter the military and revolutionary threat presented by the expansion of the First French Empire under Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte, 1769–1821; First Consul of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815).  Although Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo wrote finis to that venture, the four powers thought the Quadruple Alliance a means by which the framework created by the Congress of Vienna might best be maintained as a stabilizing device so the state of European affairs might indefinitely be maintained, it’s last resort being the military apparatus which could be deployed to ensure something like the French Revolution couldn’t again happen.  Events seemed to move in the direction of the Holy Alliance when, in 1818, the Bourbon monarchy was restored to France under Louis XVIII (1755–1824; king of France 1814-1824 (but for the unfortunate hundred days in 1815 when he fled the advance of Napoleon)) and the Quadruple Alliance became the Quintuple.  However, the British, even then among the most constitutional of monarchies, never had much enthusiasm for the alliance's more illiberal actions but the four continental powers did impose their will, the Austrians in Italy in 1821 and the French two years later in Spain.  Despite those encouraging successes however, although not fully appreciated at the time, both the arrangement and the Holy Alliance became effectively defunct with the death of Alexander in 1825, the events in France in 1830 the final nail in the coffin.

Nevertheless, the Holy Alliance remains an interesting cul-de-sac in European history and one noted for (by diplomatic standards) the brevity of its three articles: (1) That all members are brethren, beholden when necessary to assist one another to protect religion, peace, and justice, (2) That the members are Christian nations who owe the treasure of their existence to God, and recommend to their subjects to enjoy God’s gifts, and exercise his principles and (3) That members agree this alliance shall utilize the principles of God and Christianity to shape the destinies of mankind over which they have influence.  One suspects Metternich (Prince Klemens von Metternich, 1773–1859, Austrian foreign minister 1809-1848, chancellor 1821-1848) and others might have shared Castlereagh’s opinion of the spiritual flavor of the Tsar’s wording but it was recognized by even the most cynical of pragmatists as at least potentially useful and was eventually signed by all European rulers except (1) the Prince Regent of the UK because of the cabinet’s opposition, (2) the Ottoman sultan who could hardly countenance such a Christian document and (3), the Pope in Rome, the papal councilors and bishops approving not at all of something which, for the sake of unanimity, embraced schism, heresy, and orthodoxy alike.  To the Holy See, these were the papers of politicians and thus the work of the Devil.

Whatever it wasn’t, the Holy Alliance was a symbol of the old social order and liberals viewed it with disdain, revolutionaries with hatred.  Although effectively it was in 1825 buried in the tomb of the dead Tsar, its spirit endured until the revolutions of 1848 and in a sense it continued to influence the actions of statesmen until the Crimean War (1853-1856).  That crafter of alliances, Prince Otto von Bismarck (1815–1898; Chancellor of the German Empire, 1871-1890), attracted to something so over-arching yet meaning so little, sort of resurrected it after the unification of Germany in 1871 but the withered idea of a unifying Christendom proved by the 1880s not strong enough to prevail over Austrian and Russian self-interest in the squabbles in the Balkans as the edges of the Ottoman Empire began to fray.

Of unholy alliances

As a footnote, the Holy Alliance left a linguistic legacy: the phrase “unholy alliance”.  Unholy alliance is used to describe a coalition formed between improbable and usually antagonistic parties, such arrangements often ad hoc and the product of circumstance rather than choice.  There need not be any religious or anti-religious element for it to be applied and it’s a companion term to “strange bedfellows” or “uneasy bedfellows”. 

There have been many instances of use and it appeared in the platform of the Progressive Party, formed by Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) to contest the 1912 US presidential election: “To destroy this invisible government, to dissolve the unholy alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politics is the first task of the statesmanship of the day.”  A classic statement of the rationale came from Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1941 when, after Germany invaded the Soviet Union (a unilateral repudiation of an earlier unholy alliance (the Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939) which was one of history’s more cynical arrangements between adversaries, both parties knowing it was being pursued for mutual advantage as a prelude to an eventual conflict between them), the UK suddenly had gained a wartime ally albeit one with which relations had been hardly friendly and often strained since the revolutions of 1917.  In a radio broadcast that evening Churchill announced: “No one has been a more consistent opponent of communism for the last twenty-five years. I will unsay no word I have spoken about it. But all this fades away before the spectacle which is now unfolding. The past, with its crimes, its follies, its tragedies, flashes away.… The Russian danger is therefore our danger, and the danger of the United States, just as the cause of any Russian fighting for hearth and house is the cause of free men and free peoples in every quarter of the globe.”  When one of his colleagues noted the queerness of him being the one to announce such an alliance, he remarked: “If Hitler invaded hell I would make at least a favorable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.”

Portrait of Clare Sheridan (then Ms Frewen) (1907), oil on canvas by Emil Fuchs (1866-1929) (left) and a sepia print of the younger Leon Trotsky (circa 1908) (right).  

Churchill didn’t approve of communism, his attitude hardened by the new regime in Moscow having murdered the last Tsar and his family.  Very much a monarchist (his wife once described him as “the last man in Europe who believes in the divine right of kings”), Churchill thus took a dim view of the Bolsheviks and while serving as Secretary of State for War and Air (1919–1921) was involved in the allied intervention supporting anti-Communist White forces in the Russian Civil War (1917-1922), his mood not improved when he learned his favorite cousin, the sculptor Clare Sheridan (1885–1970), had enjoyed a brief affair with comrade Leon Trotsky (1879-1940; founder of the Fourth International).  Whether he ever called Trotsky “the hairiest Bolshevik baboon of all” remains uncertain but it’s at least plausible and he would later tell his cousin “we shall never speak of this unpleasantness again”.  Her memories of the tryst remained fonder, recalling the time her lover had whispered: “a woman like you should be the whole world to a man.”  At least one “Bolshevik baboon” could be poetic.

By 1941, however bad he thought were the communists in Moscow, the Nazis in Berlin were worse so an alliance with the Soviet Union, unholy though it would have felt, Churchill welcomed with barely a qualm.  He was also more perceptive in his assessment of Russian resistance to the invasion than most military & political figures in London, Washington DC or Berlin, the consensus in those circles being the Red Army would be defeated within a few months.  Given the bloody purges comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) had committed against his military leadership and the poor performance of the Russian army against the Finns in 1940, the grim expectations weren’t unreasonable but Churchill offered good odds to anyone willing to take his bet: “I will bet you a Monkey to a Mousetrap that the Russians are still fighting, and fighting victoriously, two years from now.”  That was slang from the turf, a “Monkey” being a £500 wager and a “Mousetrap” a gold sovereign with a nominal value of £1 (ie odds of 500-1).  Unholy the alliance may have been and there were tensions throughout between Moscow, Washington & London but the need to defeat Nazism meant it survived long enough to fulfil its purpose before the Cold War became the world’s new primary political dynamic.

Croissant

Croissant (pronounced krwah-sahn (French) or kruh-sahnt (barbarians))

A rich, buttery, often crescent-shaped, roll of leavened dough or puff paste.

1899:  From the French croissant (crescent), present participle of the verb croître (to increase, to grow), from the Middle French croistre, from the Old French creistre derived from the Classical Latin crēscēns & crēscentem, present active infinitive of crēscō (I augment), drawn from the Proto-Italic krēskō. The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European ḱreh (to grow, become bigger).  Correct pronunciation here.  

The Austrian Pastry

Like some other cultural artefacts thought quintessentially French (French fries invented in Belgium; Nicolas Sarkozy (b 1955; French president 2007-2012) from here and there; the Citroën DS (1955-1975) styled by an Italian) the croissant came from elsewhere, its origins Austrian, the Viennese kipferl a crescent-shaped sweet made plain, with nuts or other fillings.  It varies from the French classic in being denser and less flaky, made with softer dough.  First noted in the thirteenth century at which time, it was thought a “sweet” it was another three-hundred years before it came to be regarded as a morning pastry.  Tastes changed as new techniques of baking evolved and around the turn of the seventeenth century, recipes began to appear in Le Pâtissier François using Pâte feuilletée (puff pastry), these being the first recognisably modern croissants.

Culinary histories include a number of (likely apocryphal) tales of why the croissant adopted a crescent shape.  One suggests it was baked first in Buda to celebrate the defeat of the Ummayyad (the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750) was the second of the four major caliphates created after the death of the prophet Muhammad (circa 570-632)) forces by the Franks in the Battle of Tours (732), the shape representing the Islamic crescent moon although more famous is the notion it was designed after the battle of 1683 when the Ottomans were turned back from the gates of Vienna.  A baker, said to have heard the Turks tunneling under the walls of the city as he lit his ovens to bake the morning bread, sounded an alarm, and the defending forces collapsed the tunnel, saving the city.   To celebrate, bread was baked in the shape of the crescent moon of the Turkish flag.

Portrait of Marie Antoinette (1769) oil on canvas by Joseph Ducreux (1735-1802).

The official title of the portrait was Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria and it was created as the era’s equivalent of a Tinder profile picture, the artist summoned in 1769 to Vienna to paint a pleasing rendering of the young lady the Hapsburg royal court planned to marry off to Louis, Dauphin of France (1754-1973) who would reign as Louis XVI (King of France 1774-1792)).  Tinder profile pictures can be misleading (some pounds and even more years sometimes vanishing) so the work must be considered in that context although she was barely fourteen when she sat so it may be true to the subject.  Ducreux’s portrait was the first glimpse the prince had of his intended bride and it must have been pleasing enough for him metaphorically to "swipe right" and the marriage lasted until the pair were executed with the blade of the guillotine.  As a reward, Ducreux was raised to the nobility as a seigneur de la baronnie (lord of the barony, the grade of of baron granted to roturiers (commoners)) and appointed premier peintre de la reine (First Painter to the Queen), outliving the royal couple.

A more romantic tale attributes the pastry to Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen of France 1774-1792), who, as an Austrian, preferred the food of her homeland to that of the French court and, at state dinners, would sneak away to enjoy pastries and coffee.  There is no documentary evidence for her having re-christened the kipferl as the croissant but the story is she so missed what she knew as kipfel (German for crescent) that she commanded the royal baker to clone the treat.  More prosaic, but actually verified by historical evidence, is that August Zang (1807-1888), a retired Austrian artillery officer founded a Viennese Bakery in Paris in 1839 and most food historians agree he is the one most likely to have introduced the kipfel to France, a pastry that later inspired French bakers to create crescents of their own.  The first mention of the croissant in French is in French chemist Anselme Payen’s (1795-1871) Des Substances alimentaires (1853), published long after Marie-Antoinette’s time in court, the first known printed recipe, using the name, appearing in Swiss chef Joseph Favre’s (1849-1903) Dictionnaire universel de cuisine (1905) although even that was a more dense creation than the puffy thing known today.

Breakfast in Paris.

Although the famous shape is much admired, for purists, the choice is always the un-curved croissant au beurre, (butter croissant), the more eye-catching crescents being usually the ordinaires, made with margarine.  The taste in the English-speaking world for things like ham-and-cheese croissants is regarded by the French as proof of Anglo-Saxon barbarism although they will tolerate a sparse drizzle of chocolate if it’s for children and food critics reluctantly concede the almond croissant (with a frangipane filling, topped with slivered almonds and a dusting of powdered sugar) is “…enjoyed by younger women”.  Generally though, the French stick to the classics, eschewing even butter, a croissant being best enjoyed unadorned and taken with a strong black coffee and while some will insist this should be accompanied with a Gitanes, that is optional.

The cube croissant, an Instagram favorite.

Although much focused upon, the shape of a croissant of course becomes less relevant when eaten when the experience becomes one of taste and texture.  For that reason the pastry used has long attracted those chefs for whom food offers architectural possibilities and while for more than a century one-offs have been created for competition and special event, in recent years the phenomenon of social media has been a design stimulant, Instagram, TikTok et al fuelling a culinary arms race and patisseries have built (sometimes short-lived) product lines in response to viral videos.  Fillings have of course been a feature but it’s the shapes which have been most eye-catching (and by extension click-catching which is the point for the content providers). There have been “croissants” in the shape of spheres, discs, pyramids, spirals, wedges and cubes, the last among the more amusing with chefs referencing objects and concepts such as dice, cubist art and, of course, the Rubik’s Cube.  Many have been just a moment while some have for a while trended.

Dominique Ansel's Cronut, stacked and sliced.

Some have endured for longer such as the Cronut (the portmanteau’s construct being cro(issant) + (dough)nut) and so serious was New York based French pastry chef Dominique Ansel (b 1978) that in 2013 he trademarked his creation.  In the familiar shape of a doughnut, the composition was described as “a croissant-like pastry with a filling of flavored cream and fried in grapeseed oil.”  Interviewed by Murdoch tabloid the New York Post, the chef revealed it took “two months of R&D (research & development)” before the Cronut was perfected and the effort was clearly worthwhile because after being released in his eponymous bakery in Manhattan’s SoHo neighbourhood, the city’s food bloggers (a numerous and competitive population) responded and within days photographs circulated of dozens waiting for opening time, a reaction which prompted the application to the US Patent and Trademark Office.  In the way of such things, around the planet “clones”, “tributes”, “knock-offs”, “imitations”, “rip-offs” (the descriptions as varied as the slight changes in the recipes introduced presumably to fend off a C&D (cease and desist letter)) soon appeared.  Predictably, some were called “Doughssants” (the Germanic eszett a nice touch) although others were less derivative.

New York Post, August 16 2022.

Monsieur Ansel in 2015 released Dominique Ansel: The Secret Recipes, a cookbook which included the Cronut recipe and the thing in its authentic form was clearly for the obsessives, the instructions noting making one or a batch was a three-day process.  In its review of the year, Time magazine nominated the Cronut as one of the “best inventions of 2013”, prompting one cultural commentator (another species which proliferates in New York City) to observe the decadence of the West had reached the point the breakdown of society was close.  There may have been something in the idea the new “Visigoths at the Gates of Rome” were actually pastry chefs because in the wake of the Cronut the city was soon flooded with all sorts of novel sugary treats, mostly elaborations of croissants, doughnuts and, it being NYC, bagels.  By 2022 the New York Post was prepared to proclaim: “Move over cronuts! NYC's hot new baked good is the Suprême”, the defenestrator from Noho’s Lafayette Grand Café and revealed to be a “unique circular croissant filled with pastry crème and topped with ganache and crushed up cookies.”  Again of the Instagram & TikTok age, queues were reported even though at a unit cost of US$8.50 it was two dollars more expensive than a Cronut, the price of which had increased fairly modestly since 2013 when it debuted at US$5.00.

All the recent variations on the croissant are built on the theme chefs have for centuries understood is the easy path to popularity: FSS; add fat, salt & sugar, the substances mankind has for millennia sought.  Once it took much effort (and often some risk) to find these things but now they’re conveniently packaged and widely available at prices which, although subject to political and economic forces, remain by historic standards very cheap.  Often, we don’t even need to seek out the packages because so much of the preparation and distribution of food has been outsourced to specialists, mostly industrial concerns but the artisans persist in niches.  That’s certainly true of the croissant, few making their own whether basic or embellished and one of the latest of the croissant crazes is FSS writ large: the crookie.

Miss Sina's crookie (without added topping or powered sugar).

A crookie is a croissant stuffed with chocolate chip cookie dough and its very existence will be thought particularly shameful by some Parisian purists because it was first sold in December 2023 by the Boulangerie Louvard, located on Rue de Châteaudun in Paris’s 9^th arrondissement which, in an Instragram post announced the arrival: “Our pure butter croissant, awarded the seventh best croissant in the Île-de-France region in 2022, is made every morning with a 24-hour fermented milk sourdough and layered with Charente butter.  For our cookie dough, we use one of the best and purest chocolates in the world, from @xoco.gourmet.”  Offered originally in a test batch to test the market, the boulangerie soon announced “The concept was well received, so we're keeping it.  Available every day in-store!”

Unlike a Cronut which (at least in its pure form) demands three days to make, the charm of the crookie is its elegant simplicity and Instagrammers quickly deconstructed and posted the instructions:

(1) With a serrated knife, cut open a croissant lengthwise, leaving a “hinge” at the back.

(2) Add 2-3 tablespoons of your chocolate chip cookie dough (from a packet or home-made).

(3) Close the two sections of croissant wholly encasing the dough.

(4) When the dough is almost cooked (time will vary according to oven and the volume of dough but it takes only a few minutes), remove from oven.

(5) Add more cookie dough to the top of croissant and return to the oven for final bake.

(6) When the outside is crispy and the centre gooey, remove from oven and top with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Some crookie critics don't recommend either adding the second lashing of dough or the powered sugar because they tend to "overwhelm" the croissant and limit the surface area, thereby denying the dish some of the essential crispiness.  

The croissant in fashion

Louis Vuitton Loop (part number M81098).  Created by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971) for the Cruise 2022 Collection, the Loop is described as a "half-moon baguette" and was inspired by the earlier Croissant bag, the original a less fussy design.

Lindsay Lohan in T-shirt with croissant theme.

While a handbag lends itself well to the shape of a crescent, it does inherently limit the efficiency of space utilization but this aspect is often not a primary goal in the upper reaches of the market.  With garments however, although actually a common component because the shape makes all sorts of engineering possible such as the underwire of the bra or other constructions where any sort of cantilever effect is demanded, it’s usually just an element rather than a design motif.  As a playful touch, a distinctive crescent moon or croissant might appear on a T-shirt or scarf but it’s rare to see a whole garment pursue the theme although they have appeared on the catwalks where they attract the usual mix of admiration and derision.   

Sarah Jessica Parker in "croissant dress".

Sometimes though, such things escape the catwalk.  In 2022 the actor Sarah Jessica Parker (b 1965) appeared in HBO's And Just Like That, a spin-off (2021-2022) of the Sex and the City TV series (1998-2024), wearing an orange Valentino couture gown from the house’s spring/summer 2019 collection.  It recalled a large croissant, the piece chosen presumably because the scene was set in Paris although it must have been thought the viewers needed the verisimilitude laid on with a trowel because also prominent was a handbag in the shape of the Eifel Tower.  A gift to the meme-makers, admiration for the dress was restrained.