Tamar Mogendorff by Sarah Vandervennet. photo by Sarah Wilmer.
W
alking into Tamar Mogendorff ’s Boerum Hill studio is like stepping into a storybook. There is no other way to describe being surrounded by treasure troves of button-eyed owls, corals spewing black tendrils, elegant swans with feathered tails. Bony fish skeletons adorn the walls and sequined seahorses in fishbowls hang from the ceiling.
But this is no ordinary storybook. Her creations are the Frankensteins of cute woodland creatures. They are the slapdash, hand-sewn stuffed animals and plants that cost upwards of $200. And there is no fairy dust or enchanting spell to speak of. Just Mogendorff ’s handiwork. Yet for some reason this is a storybook no one can put down. Scott Horne, a friend of Mogendorff ’s and a prop stylist who has used her work in photo shoots, explains why her work stands out from the growing handmade trend. “Sure, anybody can throw together a stuffed bird from leftover scraps of fabrics, but not everybody has the ability to tell a story at the same time. Tamar gets you wrapped up in a fantasy or fairytale with her cleverly appliquéd bits, stitches and finishing touches.” Talking to Mogendorff, you realize how much her work reflects herself. Her creations are basically the manifestation of her thinking aloud, scatterbrained yet insightful reflections that ring true in her work. “I have an idea, I want to make something,” she says. “I just find a way. My ways are not necessarily the correct ways sometimes, but I find it to be the right way for me.” Mogendorff ’s artistic process is a balance between precision and precariousness. Although she has been sewing since she was a child, she has no formal training. This gives her work its handmade charm.
She dyes wools and tweeds with vegetables from her own fridge, manipulating the fabrics until they satisfy her vision. At the same time, she leaves room for happy mistakes. Forgoing planning and measuring, she just does it. The results are unique works of tattered genius. “I like when something’s a little bit ripped. I like things that are not totally done,” says Mogendorff. I like to see the work. Like the swans. I like to see all the threads. I never hide any mistakes. It feels fragile, you don’t know when it starts and when it ends. It’s more than that.” And like her aesthetic, Mogendorff ’s work can’t be contained. After graduating art school in Israel, Mogendorff moved to New York City. She was 26. She supported herself working as a florist in Nolita, a job that suited her green thumb. However, as the demand for her creative talent grew, her art turned into a full-time job. Mogendorff attributes her success to hard work and gives a modest nod to luck. “I’m still surprised people are buying from me,” she says. But that is where the magic comes in. People love her work, whether that person is a representative from a high-end fashion label or a doting mother. Mogendorff collaborates with designers and artists on anything from window displays to art books. She also sells her creations wholesale through boutiques internationally and locally, including Brooklyn’s own Bird clothing boutique. Rose Lazar, a printmaker who collaborates with Mogendorff, first encountered her work on a buying trip to New York when she was working at a shop in Chicago. “I turned the corner and was instantly smitten with her work,” said Lazar. “We bought it to sell in the shop without any hesitations.”
“Her work is so popular because it spans ages,” Lazar continued. “A mother can buy it for their child's room, but a dude can buy it for his living room, too. There is a sense of romanticism, whimsy and nostalgia in every piece that people can relate to.” Lazar had one of Mogendorff ’s mounted deer heads on display in her home before she even worked with her. “When I worked in the shop in Chicago, I would totally understand why a grown woman was squealing about a family of white felt polar bears and needing to give them a good home,” she said. The stories Mogendorff ’s creations possess inspire relationships with her work. There is a personal quality to it that begins with Mogendorff ’s own relationship with each of her pieces. Each piece is part of her evolution as a designer, and part of her ambitions to develop her creativity. “Now when I look back it’s almost like I couldn’t do anything else,” she says. “It so makes sense that this is what I would do.” Mogendorff maintains a modest attitude about her success. She takes herself seriously, but only seriously enough. “I don’t see myself as an artist,” she says. “I see myself as a designer or…I don’t know. Some people call me a stitch artist whatever that is. So I would say – I don’t know the right word in English. There is a better word in Hebrew for me. It’s more like craftsmanship.” Each mushroom, birdhouse, and bunny family that Mogendorff creates lives happily ever after in the hearts of those who buy them. But the artist will always be tugging at the seams, breaking the boundaries and opening up new worlds. “There are a lot of other things I want to do and that I’m working on for the future,” she says. “It’s something that I can take in many directions. And I’ll play with that.”