Big Hjem

Hjem Restaurant Roman Shade • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay • photo ©2010 Hank Turner

Regular readers of this blog will remember that a few months ago I was commissioned by Chef Matthew Holland to make make fabric panels and yardage for a roman blind to decorate his new restaurant, Hjem. I wrote about the process in previous blog posts, Think Big and Working Big.

Matthew started with dusty old offices and a vision of what he wanted. Since my studio is downstairs from the restaurant I have seen the progress first hand. Some days it seemed nothing was happening and then other days there would be a flurry of activity as men and equipment passed by my studio door or made loud and mysterious banging noises upstairs. Until last week the dining area didn't look like much more than a storage area. There was furniture piled up and boxes of dinnerware in the corners. There was really no evidence of what was coming.

And then one day it was all set up. My fabric panels were hung, the Swarovski crystal chandeliers sparkled with light. Matthew, his wife Camilla, and Morton, an investment partner, came down to the Underground one evening and chose some artwork to hang on the walls. The silverware was wrapped in napkins, candles were lit—

Hjem Restaurant Fabric Panel and Roman Shade • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay • photo ©2010 Hank Turner

When I first saw the final results, I felt one of those Wow moments when, even though you know it's your work hanging up there, the combined beauty of it all makes it not yours—it is now part of the restaurant Hjem…Home.

Hjem Restaurant Fabric Panels • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay • photo ©2010 Hank Turner

I have not forgotten the most important part…Chef Matthew has devoted his considerable talents to the menu as well. Every ingredient has been chosen with care. The result is a seasonal menu of fantastic food which I plan to eat my way through many times over.


Hjem Restaurant Fabric Panel • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay • photo ©2010 Hank Turner

I am so grateful that Matthew asked me to participate in the realization of his dream for Hjem Restaurant. I enjoyed the process from beginning to end. The best part is that Matthew and Camilla are pleased with the results—for me that makes the crystal chandeliers sparkle even brighter.

Thank you, Chef—I'll be up later for lunch.

Brief Interlude

Did you know that a gallon of water weighs 8.35 pounds?

I did not.

Even though I had help carrying the 6 gallons (50 lbs.) of water from the kitchen area to my studio, it seems I have sprained my wrist and rest is required.

Maybe it would be a good time for us all to pause and say thank you to our bodies for their marvelous service. (Feel free to apologize to certain overused parts if you need to.)

Secret Chord

Secret Chord • dye on fabric • 13" x 13" • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay

Dear photoboy,

Remember in March when you and Flanagan and I had our solo shows at the Underground? For a whole month it was all about us—we were on the radio, in the newspaper and magazines, there was a party every week—and remember when we invited all my fans on facebook to lunch at my studio and no one came? So the three of us ate the delicious cheese and bread and olives and drank the wine while we discussed important philosophical questions like, What are the ethical and artistic differences between taking a photograph of someone who is aware they are being photographed,

Luca • ©2009 Don House

and someone who is not?

Barcelona Street • ©2009 Jennifer Libby Fay

Good times, man, good times.

The best part was we believed our work mattered, and we knew if we just got ourselves out there more—maybe to a different audience or a new gallery, all would be well. Our discussions were encouraging and motivating and I seem to recall we agreed to meet every month to review our sales and marketing strategies with the hope that we could maintain our momentum…

By the way, we should, um, schedule that meeting, yes?

So you know that weird feeling you get when you receive a letter addressed to yourself by yourself? There's those couple of surreal heartbeats when it doesn't make sense before you think, oh yeah, whew, self-address stamped envelope. Well, I got one of those the other day which reminded me of another agreement we'd made back in March. We were each going to enter our work in something—a show, a magazine, whatever. Seems I entered the Artists of Northwest Arkansas Sixteenth Annual Regional Art Exhibition—and then completely forgot all about it. (I've been a little busy)

Guess what? I got in! My piece, Secret Chord, was accepted! And, can I tell you a secret about Secret Chord? You won't believe this, but it started with an episode of the Oprah show. I know, I know, but it was last winter and we were having a bad snow storm so I decided not to go into the studio. I stayed home and did some hand stitching on a few new pieces.

I had the TV on to keep me company—okay, who am I kidding? I love Oprah, I think she's smart and beautiful and amazing. I have learned many things from her shows and her magazine, so I can't really pretend like this was all an accident. I usually tape her show, but this day, I was home, she was on TV, and Celine Dion was the guest. So here I have to tell the truth again—while I am aware of the extraordinary talent that is Celine Dion, I don't actually own any of her records, nor do I listen to radio stations that would play her music—but she undeniably has one of the most purely beautiful voices on the planet, and whenever I see her interviewed, I just like her.

So there I am stitching away, half paying attention and they get to this:



I realize I could damage my rocker girl reputation by admitting this, but I love this song, and I love this version of this song: the surprise factor, the powerful beauty of her voice combined with the voices of the tenors, the fact that they step it up a notch when she shows up, and then the finish. I love it. Okay, here's my redemption—the song, Hallelujah, was written by Leonard Cohen and you can't get much cooler than that. Right?

The next day I went to the studio with a fantastical goal in mind: to make art as moving as the song Hallelujah. It is a good goal to have. I think I can spend my life pursuing it.

So if you are around on Saturday, July 10th from 1-3pm will you come by the Arts Center of the Ozarks for the reception? It would be lovely to see you.

Warm regards,
clothgirl

Standing in Awe

Standing in Awe • Hand dyed fabric • 13" x 13" • ©2010 Jennifer Libby Fay

When I first moved to San Francisco, I roomed with my friend Noël who had also just arrived in the big city. The apartment had two bedrooms and two baths, one each on either side of a large living room area. The best thing about the place was the picture window. It had a view of the City, the Bay, the Bay Bridge, Alameda, Oakland, Berkeley, Alcatraz—and if you stood close to the window and looked to the left, the Golden Gate Bridge. I don't remember looking to the right very often but I am sure it was beautiful too.

In my mind the place seems huge but that might have been because we didn't have much in it. Just a stereo and two armless, skirted, green velvet chairs that swiveled. Ashtrays, drinks, food, books all went on the floor. I don't think we even had a lamp. We sat in those chairs night after night and looked out that window. It was like having our own personal movie theater. The fog came in, the fog went out. Lights sparkled. The traffic made ribbons of color on the bridges. It was mesmerizing. Every once in a while there were fireworks. Noël and I would marvel that people in this magical place could have fireworks when it wasn't even the fourth of July. We vowed that someday be rich enough to throw parties with fireworks anytime we pleased.

One night we were treated to a fantastic thunderstorm. It rained hard, and when the lightning bolts flashed in the sky over Oakland the whole tableaux lit up for a few seconds, the Transamerica Pyramid gleaming white in the distance. Wow, we thought, it's great—just like home.

The next morning, as usual, Noël went to get the newspaper but she came back with a funny look on her face. She couldn't even speak—there on the front page, above the fold, was a big photograph of a lightning bolt from the night before.

Lightening? News? We laughed and laughed. This San Francisco really is a crazy place after all.

Many years have gone by since then but I have only seen lightening in the Bay Area on one other occasion—it didn't make the paper though, I checked.

Re-igniting the Creative Spark

Repair • Hand dyed fabric • 10" x 8" • ©2009 Jennifer Libby Fay

A few years ago, hmm, maybe more than a few, it's difficult to keep track, I decided I wanted to do some more handweaving. I took a break from weaving for about 5 years when my work as a product designer gave me lots of chances for travel and adventure. Things were settling down though, so I thought I would get back into it. A workshop at the Mendocino Art Center was just the ticket, I thought, and wouldn't it be fun if I enlisted my friends in this endeavor? I asked fellow textile artists and good friends Dotti and Joanne if they had any interest. Sure enough there was a fabric dyeing class scheduled for the same week as the weaving class. We signed up, booked the bed and breakfast, got the supplies together, and a couple of weeks before we were scheduled to leave—the weaving class was cancelled. Since I had marked out the time and paid for the room I decided, what the heck?, I'll just take the same class as Dotti and Joanne. I'll never use it, I said to myself. I hate dyeing. All those heavy pots of boiling water. No siree, not for me.

From left to right: Me, Dotti and Joanne in Dotti's studio

Well this type of fabric dyeing wasn't like any other I had tried and after a couple of days I knew something BIG was happening. The technique of dyeing on synthetic fabrics with disperse dyes was, for me, a perfect combination of my love of fabric and my training in graphics and fine art. It involved painting, composition, marbling, and drawing. I could sew or not sew. AND the dyes must be set with heat, but you use a heat press—no boiling water!…I loved it. Dotti and Joanne and I went in together on a heat press and dyes. Dotti graciously offered to keep the press in her studio and let me use it. She ended up sharing her studio with me and I know that that act of kindness is as important to my journey an artist as all the workshops in the world. Having a place to work and an encouraging and knowledgeable person to talk to is priceless to an emerging artist. I am forever grateful to her.

Dotti Day's studio • San Rafael, California

So the years went by and life brought me to Northwest Arkansas where I have my own studio at the Fayetteville Underground. My room looks very similar to the one I shared with Dotti and I often wish she was at the other end of the table to talk to…this week I am in California and I get to visit Dotti in her studio tomorrow. I am very excited to see what she has been working on—and I'm pretty sure we will make some art together.

My teachers, Jason Pollen and Lisa Grey are giving a workshop this summer on marbling on synthetic fabrics with disperse dyes. If you are interested the info is here (scroll down to Re-igniting the Creative Spark) and Lisa has written about it on her blog here.

Working Big

2-13' x 2' fabric panels drying

Remember the old mind teaser, Which is heavier, a ton of feathers or a ton of bricks? Well, I can tell you, a ton of wet fabric is the heaviest.

Phase two of my commission to create 11-13' x 2' fabric panels for the restaurant, Hjem (pronounced yem), that is opening in early June upstairs from the Fayetteville Underground is complete. A person can learn a few things from working big, so I offer you these observations on the process.

When I first got my studio at the Underground, I thought it was huge. After all, it is twice as big as the one I shared in California. For this project space was a consideration because I only have room for three panels to dry at a time. That meant after three panels were marbled or painted I had to wait. Waiting for fabric to dry ranks right up there with watching grass grow. Do something else while you wait, you say? I looked around the studio and every available surface, including parts of the floor and all of the chairs, were covered with fabric, supplies and tools. After pacing around the table a few times it occurred to me that glaring expectantly at the fabric wouldn't make it dry any faster so I went and had a cup of coffee. The next time had to wait I called a friend and we had coffee together. Bonus.

Proportion must be considered…and considered again.
Of course proportion must always be considered but when working big the distance from which something will be viewed enters the equation. Small details can't be seen when far away and may even muddy the design. Exaggeration is often necessary because what looks huge two feet away can look great 13' feet away. Michelangelo's David is one of the most famous examples of this. I am sure there are more detailed explanations but this one came from Wikipedia:

"The proportions are not quite true to the human form; the head and upper body are somewhat larger than the proportions of the lower body. The hands are also larger than would be in regular proportions. While some have suggested that this is of the mannerist style, another explanation is that the statue was originally intended to be placed on a church façade or high pedestal, and that the proportions would appear correct when the statue was viewed from some distance below."

However, I must say that when you are standing there looking at him the last thing you notice is that his hands are too big…but that's a story for another day.

Working big is physically challenging—yards of fabric to hold in one hand, gallons of water to carry, standing for hours days at a time, it adds up. Of course the work is lovely to do, exciting and challenging and fun. It is wonderful to be engaged in the process and thinking about the each step as it comes—but in the evening it means sore muscles and sometimes anxious sleep. Will it all work? Will I make the deadline? Thank goodness I had help along the way. In addition to Camilla who helped with the marbling, many of my studio-mates and a few building maintenance people were called upon to hold this or that.

Sore muscles aside, there is a freedom that comes with working big that I really enjoyed. Movement comes from the shoulders instead of the wrist. You can step into the action; your whole body gets involved. It feels good. It makes me think I would like to work on a series of large pieces. I am impatient to explore all of these new considerations. If any of you have experiences or thoughts on the subject of working big I would enjoy hearing them. Please feel welcome to leave a comment.

As soon as the Hjem fabric panels are up and the restaurant ready to open, I will post photos so you can see the results. Maybe you'll even come for dinner sometime!

Think Big

Fayetteville Underground • Studio 11 • 5/6/10

This was my studio on Thursday night. I was prepared for the 800 to 1000 people who attend First Thursday Fayetteville. Every month new work goes up in each of the Fayetteville Underground’s four art galleries and a craftperson is featured in the craft gallery. We host a reception and have open studios. It is an exciting evening—lots of talking and smiling.

(Readers of this blog will be pleased to know that Megan sold three paintings on Thursday night and she was not alone, other artists, including yours truly, sold some too!)

Fayetteville Underground • Studio 11 • 5/7/10

This is what the studio looked like early Friday morning. The usually casual atmosphere has been interrupted by a flurry of activity. I received a commission from the new restaurant that is going in upstairs. Hjem (pronounced yem) means home in Norwegian and will feature Scandinavian influenced food and a casual yet elegant style. We can talk about the food scene in Fayetteville, Arkansas another time, but just know that this will be a welcome addition…

The restaurant walls are brick, the floors wood and there are lots of windows. That’s where I come in. I have been asked to make fabric panels to frame the windows and some yardage that will be made into a roman blind. The panels are about 13 feet by 2 feet and there are lots of them.

11-13' x 2' Fabric Panels
The studio is overflowing with fabric and tools and activity.


7' x 2' marbling frame

I built a frame to hold the marbling fluid. When I say I, I mean Michael, the building manager who happened to walk by as I was taping the two by fours together (don’t laugh, it would have worked) and offered to hammer in some nails for me. His payment, a six-pack, has been delivered.

To marble the panels I need help as well, so Camilla, beautiful wife of above mentioned restaurant owner, agreed to assist. We can do three panels at a time—there are 11 in all—because that is how much hanging space I have.



Setting the dye with a heat press

After the panels dry the dye is set with the heat press.
Only part of each panel is marbled, I’ll show you what happens next when we meet again.

Until then, think BIG.