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The Journal News
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The Journal News
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Although she works alone, Libby Denenberg always has company. They're the fairies perched throughout her studio. The artist's mosaic creatures are fanciful figures, dotted with shimmering glass wings, striped stockings and cheerful smiles. "I try to give all of them their own personality," Denenberg says. Together, they form an unexpectedly whimsical oasis off an industrial street in Mamaroneck. This weekend, Denenberg will gather up those fairies, along with her mirrors, frames and plaques, as she makes her debut at Fall Crafts at Lyndhurst. The show and sale will feature more than 300 craft artists from around the country offering their creations in glass, jewelry, wood, leather, ceramics and fiber. The event opens tomorrow and continues through Sunday on the grounds of the Gothic Revival mansion in Tarrytown. Visitors to Denenberg's space will find pieces ranging from heart-shaped plaques to skillets filled with mosaic bacon and eggs. There will also be frames that sport portions of tea cups and mirrors encased in intricately patterned tiles. Works like the fairies — which take 15 hours to create — will sell for between $15 and $500. Denenberg's designs are drawn from a wealth of raw materials. She'll scour tag sales and thrift shops looking for dishes and ceramic pieces, while also checking out eBay. One full room in her studio is devoted to shelves and boxes overflowing with vases and mugs, plates and platters. "People now anonymously just drop me dishes, and I say 'Wow, that's great.' " Denenberg also has hundreds of figurines, buttons filling bowls to the brim and seashells for the mermaids destined to one day join the family. Despite the studio's vibrancy, it's a place where Denenberg finds peace. She might start her morning, she says, only to realize it's time to pick up her sons from school. "I love that, where you just go into that 'mosaic zone,' " she says. That's where the work is done. Denenberg begins with a sketch that's cut into a paper pattern. That's translated to plywood or medium-density fiber board, both chosen for their resistance to warping. (This step, Denenberg says, is aided by her husband, Peter, who runs a jigsaw in addition to a recording studio). Denenberg glues her objects — from pieces of plates, cups or figurines to iridescent glass tiles to mirrored glass — onto the forms. Then she begins the grouting, often custom-colored, to fill in the spaces. The piece is then cleaned before its edges are sanded, painted and sealed. "You smash sand and cement all over this, then you dig it out," she says. "It's like a treasure." Hunting for that treasure is part of the fun of a Denenberg piece. A bow on a fairy shoe is actually a miniature porcelain rose. That sparkling eye on a fish-shaped plaque? A vintage rhinestone button. "I'm at the point now where I want to have a look," she says. She's developed two main collections. "Vintage Garden" is floral and delicate, "Patterns" more bold and geometric. But neither is predictable. "Some of the stuff reminds me of rug-weaving, primitive rug-weaving," she says. "I try to stay away from straight lines." Denenberg has the authority of someone entrenched in the arts. The Lyndhurst show is the latest phase of a year that saw her move her work from home to a studio and join the craft-show circuit. "It's a big learning year," she says. Denenberg, who grew up in Larchmont and has lived in Mamaroneck for 12 years, studied weaving, fiber, soft sculpture and tapestry at Syracuse University. "That sort of gave me an idea of how to put colors together," she says. She explored this further when she began to teach herself mosaics four years ago. "I just experimented for, like, three years. As I went along, things evolved. I got more comfortable with different techniques and the looks I wanted to have." Her vision has only grown. "You go by what people say, what they want, the color trends, but it's got to feel right," she says. "Otherwise, it's not me." The name of her company, Wishflower
Studio, is also personal — a tribute to the dandelion, or what she
calls the "wish flower." |
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"It just reminded me of when my kids were little," she says. She says she thought of how the family, including her two sons, now 10 and 12, used to pick a dandelion that had passed from brilliant yellow to willowy white, blow and make a wish as it fluttered away. Her latest venture echoes that spirit. "This felt like that," she says. "I abandoned all the 'what ifs, what ifs, what ifs.' " Instead, she pulled all the pieces together, making some fairy friends along the way.
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| Professional
member of: The Society of American Mosaic Artists |
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