BEAUTY AND FUNCTIONALITY
Furniture designer strives for balance
Nadine Hajjar grew up in Beirut, where she studied architecture at university. After working in her field for a while, she realized her true interest lay in the shape, texture and function of an object, rather than buildings.
She travelled to Milan, Italy’s centre of fashion, where at Domus Academy she earned a master’s degree in furniture and industrial design.
Following her stint in Italy, Hajjar worked for three years as the head designer for a furniture company in Beirut. Before too long, however, she felt her ideas were starting to stagnate and she needed a change. In 2011, she decided to “throw herself into the wild” — in this instance being Montreal.
Hajjar spoke fluent French (as do many educated Lebanese) and she had the legal right to live in Montreal because years before her move, her father had worked in Canada when he had secured residency permits for his family. She was not, however, familiar with Montreal.
Hajjar got in touch with a Quebecer with whom she’d studied in Milan and she was happy to take her in as a roommate. Before long, her friend moved out and Hajjar was able to take over the apartment, a modest 3½ in Centre-Sud. It has a double bedroom (at one time two separate rooms judging by the marks on the hardwood floor where a wall once stood) and a balcony she shares with her neighbour.
Last year, Hajjar started a business specializing in handcrafted wood furniture and lighting (www.nadinehajjarstudio.com). Her marketing slogan is “Imagine. Design. Create” and her workshop (“it’s three times the size of my apartment”) is in Rosemont, a 10-minute bike ride away.
Q So I guess you can’t work from home? A Oh no. Working in wood creates a lot of dust and I haven’t got the space here anyway.
Q But is the furniture in your apartment all your own work? A Some. I have a couple of things from Ikea, like my desk and the storage shelves in the bedroom. The sofa in the living room came from Structube, but I made the tables and the lights.
Q Can you show me?
(Hajjar indicates her wood breakfast bar that serves as a division between the kitchen and the open living room. The top is a couple inches thick and there’s a shelf at the bottom.)
Q Is the countertop butcher block? A No. This is what we call “end grain” wood.
(She points at the grain to show me what she means. Beyond the breakfast bar is the seating area, which is composed of the aforementioned sofa — it pulls into a spare bed — a love seat, two coffee tables and a side table with metal legs. One coffee table is shaped like a triangle with rounded edges. The other table is rectangular, also with rounded edges. Both have tapered legs.
(The love seat is a handsome piece that could almost pass as a piece of sculpture. The arms soar into mid-air and curve toward the back, which looks like an oversized lozenge, tapered at one end.)
Q Your furniture is beautiful to look at, as well as functional.
A Thank you. Yes, I strive for that. People like to touch it as well. (She runs her hand across the wood frame.) I used ash for the love seat, but my three lamps are made from walnut. That’s a very “generous” wood.
Q Meaning? A Easy to work.
(The lamps are unusual. Fashioned vaguely like giant tongs, they dangle from a cord in the ceiling. The insides of the shade
end of the lamps are coated with gold leaf to “warm up” the colour of the cold LED bulbs. Each lamp has a name — Frida, Jacky and Mathilde.)
Q Why do the lamps have names? A (Laughs.) They’re characters from songs composed by Jacques Brel.
(Hajjar clearly has a quirky sense of humour, which is evident in some of the things she has hung on her walls — a turntable that no longer works, a cluster of black and white framed postcards in the hallway and a heap of old, metal movie reels above the sofa.)
Q What’s the story behind the film reels and the postcards? A I found the film reels in the street. It’s eight-millimetre film, so I really don’t know what they are because the images are tiny. I’ve been able to make out a few things like animals and scenery. Maybe they’re travel films?
The postcards I found on the floor of a cinema in Beirut. They’re scenes from films sent to the Lebanese censors and they’re stamped on the back.
(At the kitchen end of the hallway, on the wall above her desk, are preliminary sketches for her walnut lamps and a collage composed of little pieces of felt, metal and wood.)
Q Tell me about the collage. A These are the materials I use in my work. I call it my “inspiration board.”
Shelter is a weekly series featuring a conversation with tenants or condo owners. Occupant: Nadine Hajjar, 33 Location: Centre-Sud Size: 3½ (plus a balcony) Rental: $750 Been there: Since 2011