Gabriel Cohen and Jolie Signorile bonded over the apocalypse

Jolie Mae Signorile, top, Gabriel Fredericks Cohen, bottom

Name: Gabriel Fredericks Cohen and Jolie Mae Signorile
Ages: 25
Hometown: New York and Long Island, NY
Current town: Brooklyn, NY
Job description: Designers
Bio: Founders of lifestyle brand, Fredericks & Mae (JMS: "All the silk-screening happens at Flux Factory, but our Fredericks & Mae studio is in my basement in Bed-Stuy.")
Select links: “Arrows, Wings and Beautiful Things” (Anthology Magazine); “Fredericks & Mae Arrows” (Trendland); listed at Partners & Spade

Describe your current state of mind.

Jolie Mae Signorile: That is not one of the ones I’ve been asked before. It’s post-holiday so we’re in a place where we think about what new things we want to keep and continue. There are some new projects and collaborations on the horizon potentially. I don’t want to say that they’re happening yet but they might happen…potentially having something that could be fabricated, which is a whole new part of my brain because usually the conversations are confined by: “Is it something that we have in our vocabulary?” So that was what we were talking about before you got here.

Gabriel Fredericks Cohen: I think, broadly, it’s a pretty expansive time. We went full-time a little over half a year ago.

JMS: It also feels like we’re finding community in a new way. It’s not just people who make things, it’s musicians and other visual artists as well; it’s a really exciting movement.

How did you start making things? And how did Fredericks and Mae come about?

GFC: We met in college. We had adjoining studios, and we did not know each other at all at the beginning of the year. I’d say we developed a materials crush on each other, where Jolie had piles of brightly colored bits and little toy soldiers, and I had little bits and some colorful things.

JMS: Like colored toy dinosaurs.

GFC: Yeah.

JMS: Also, the studio class that we were in was so small. You would have video majors with performance art majors. There was no separation for us; it was very clear. I was like: “Who is he?”

GFC: None of us did much two-dimensional work. We were just putting bits together.

JMS: And also screening.

GFC: We decided to do our Cinders show together; we did one collaborative piece. Jolie was focused on nostalgia and how that was functioning, and I was thinking about the apocalypse and 2012 four years ago.

JMS: Like fear of the future, a concern about people and where we are heading.

GFC: Then we moved from Ohio to New York. The work we were doing in Ohio was massive and it shrunk to the living room size, so we started making objects an hour south of Cleveland in Oberlin.

JMS: Oberlin is a small, one-mile radius of a town.

What year was that?

GFC: '04. No! ’08.

I was going to say, you age well.

JMS: Thank you!

How would you describe your aesthetic?

JMS: I think we bonded over these heavy topics of nobody being able to imagine the end of the world. Like mass extinction. We were both really interested in making these beautiful things in a way to get people’s attention, and inviting them to engage with something that is otherwise really difficult. I think also we were interested in finding the beautiful ways that we as artists can work in context and [how] other people might be living despite that. One of the things that he made that year were these really elaborate threaded dowel sculptures – like beautiful instruments that people would play during the end of the world.

I think beautiful is a really boring word…

GFC: I was about to say colorful, but there’s also a lot of black and white. Graphic. Bold. At times geometric. Sometimes elaborately patterned, but not really.

I don’t know if it’s obviously handmade, because I don’t particularly care if it’s handmade. The early conversations had to do with being really invested in feathers or the kind of things that were made by nature, and how wildly beautiful they were. We said: “What the hell can we do to this, to make it nicer? It’s the nicest it could possibly be.” Where there's a human intervention in the object in some capacity. I think often our work approaches functionality or are recognizably useful - even if you don’t use them.

JMS: I think that is about how people are living despite all of that other stuff there’s concern over. There’s something really great about the bow and arrow, because it’s such a simple thing that has this incredible history. There are a lot of questions about where it came from, and how everybody has it. It shares a form but the way it’s adorned in various cultures that it shows up in is very, very different.

Although we appreciate old things that are awesome, we are also interesting in making things look new, and making it look modern – not just ripping something from its ancient task, in its original context. Like imagining an arrow’s place today. Most people aren’t hunting their own food or practicing archery, but a lot of people are thinking about it.

I’m curious about how you choose the objects in your line. They’re playful and anthropological. What inspires some objects versus others?

JMS: The first thing that we made when got here were these reconstructed wings from naturally molted exotic bird feathers. We don’t make them so much anymore. If somebody asks for them, we will but it’s less often…

Gabe had done a lot of work with thread and hundreds of spools in beautiful colored thread and it sort of just clicked. It’s like: “I don’t have a job right now and I want to make something, but I don’t have the money to afford X, Y, or Z, or the space to silk screen or whatever. What can you do with what you’ve got?” Gabe brought home a vintage arrow and he was like: “Isn’t this nice?” I was like: “Oh, my God, I made a bow and arrow once. That’s something we can make at home and we actually have all the things. We don’t need to go shopping for them.” Then we started trying to figure out why that particular thing was so exciting to both of us, and where it fit in with the work that we were doing in Ohio.

The slow food movement is kind of about being able to take care of that kind of thing for yourself and the arrows. We used to say: “Maybe we should send this to kitchen stores for local foods enthusiasts.”

GFC: Then I remember writing this [press release]. We need the arrows for when the revolution comes; we need to arm ourselves, and then we developed this whole list of things - some of which we made some of which we didn’t. But we need like flags to communicate with each other, and when that gets hard we need signal beacons when we’re in danger. It got really tied on to the nostalgia apocalypse bit. And then it clicked for me when we went to the archery range deep in Queens. It’s in someone’s garage, kind of.

JMS: It’s a residential neighborhood, and it opens at like 6 o’clock at night.

GFC: When we were there, there was a Hassidic couple having their first date.

JMS: It’s called the Queens Archery Shop, and it’s pretty easy to find. It’s the only place in New York City that advertises itself selling archery equipment.

GFC: It’s run by a husband and wife; they're like champion archers. We walked in and they were like: "Who the hell are you?" And we were like: “Ooh, look at these arrows!"

JMS: He's like: "These aren't straight. Why would you do this to the shaft? This takes forever. What are these feathers? These must be expensive. Why are you doing it? This doesn't make any sense to me."

GFC: “Go over there. Here’s a catalogue. Go away.”

JMS: “I’m going to teach the couple a lesson.”   

GFC: That was the first time we'd seen what contemporary arrows look like.

JMS: But there's also a whole section on stuff that you would use to build your own arrows. It was like: “Oh my God! That's how you do that! All these things people use to make it that much easier!" I had been holding the feather with my hand for 20 minutes while slow drying adhesives set - and it wouldn't even be straight.

GFC: We learned how to make feathers, from Renaissance Fair communities and primitive skills people, who are the ones still making arrows in America.

JMC: The wife comes over and she's like: "Oh, they're still here. I guess I'm gonna go chat with them.”

GFC: She had four-inch fingernails.

JMC: She was a fabulous lady. They were painted elaborately. She was like: “Back in the day, I used to do all my all the cresting on the arrows we sold.” All arrows have a distinct pattern, and it's usually a way to identify the archer. That was the first time we learned that that was all hand done; people used to do that and took pride in it.

She talked to us about that and we went back and forth for long enough when eventually the guy came over and he had, like, overheard us saying something about the arrow that he felt proved that we were genuinely interested in its history and many uses. 

GFC: So we got to talking and I forget how the story comes up exactly, but he leans in and he was like: "What are you interested in?" We were like: “Arrows are amazing. They turn up in every culture on every continent in all periods of history. Isn't that weird?" And he's like: "Do you know why? We were visited.”

An extraterrestrial intelligence gifted us the technology of the bow and arrow. It’s the perfect tool. It's not wasteful. It’s make-able.

JMS: They didn’t give us guns.

GFC: He was not joking.

JMS: He hesitated: "Should I tell these people? They might think I'm crazy. I think they get it. I think they're into it: aliens."

GFC: We were into it enough that we just rolled with it: “Absolutely.” Maybe that's true, but it sent me on this trip where I was like: “It is really fantastic or bizarre that this particular object appears in so many different contexts, in native cultures, the Crusades…

JMS: India, Africa, Alaska…

GFC: In all different time periods. For a while we tried to make objects that did the same thing. There aren't a lot, but that's how we found kites.

JMS: I was really into the fact that it was a taboo thing, that arrows brought you to aliens, and that people who are really into arrows ran businesses that opened at six o'clock at night, and were in residential neighborhoods, in places you had never been to, and that it was an underground secret community that had its own rules.

GFC: It's the same thing with Renaissance Fairs. It's like this alternative reality [with] primitive skills. People have holidays and go into the woods to do their own thing. What are the material conditions that produce these, turning away from today?

JMS: The communities that we rub up against are endlessly inspiring. Like duck buoy hunters. You can't find a wide range of colored enamel paints when you go to the hardware store. They're only going to give you the ones that are natural wood colors, like the color you might paint your garage door. But duck buoy painters, while for the purpose of painting ducks, have cadmium yellow waterproof paint.

GFC: I think your first question was how do we choose what we make? The simplest answer is whatever we want to and the longer answer is that.

How do you decide what to price the things you make? Who is your target audience?

JMS: The short answer is it's really hard. The way we started pricing the arrows is not the way that we go now. We were just really lucky to walk into that store, Maryam, on Norfolk Street and ask a question about how they source their stuff. The store told [their superiors] we were interested in making stuff and showing it to them. They looked at it and we developed a relationship really quick.

We brought the arrows in and asked them what they thought they could sell it for. We didn't think people would pay $100 for them at the time. They were really different then they are now; they had two inches of thread on them, the feathers were small and badly put on, but they saw something in it and would work with us through the improvements.

Now we try to log how long doing something takes us.

How much would someone pay? I feel like even though our things are in sort of luxury status - because they're not functional, like not something that you need - they're priced high, but we probably aren't making enough.

But we're really excited for people to have them, so we are trying to make things a range of prices.

We also would like to make some things that we can imagine making up for [artisanal] products. We would like to launch an art practice that doesn't make its decisions based on what could be sellable.

GFC: I think the part that makes it hard is that what we do doesn't make sense in modern capitalism. Everything that we make is also made somewhere in the global South for way cheaper, and in much bigger [quantity].

Everything we price is a little bit arbitrary because the market is a harsh mistress to not make enough money.

JMC: With the errors, there was a point that we felt overwhelmed like. We're not afraid of pricing it something that is worth our time. If a store could purchase 100 or 200 of them every month, we would be in the position of: "We can't do that."  So we have to be able to do it.

How much time do you spend on one piece?

GFC: Totally depends.

JMS: Often a lot of this stuff happens in batches. I might spend three days making enough pieces to assemble ten backgammon boxes. Then there are the silk screening, assembly and things always go wrong.

GFC: Always.

JMS: That's a really hard thing to account for when I think of pricing. Its the human error; that's your fault. I think an arrow used to take hours.

GFC: It's way down now.

JMS: Like an hour to an hour and a half. Split.

GFC: We just started having interns, which has been a huge boon. A lot of the work we had to do we had to teach ourselves how to do over the three years that we weren't doing full-time. I mean, Jolie is better at attaching a feather to an arrow more then anyone I know. So the interns can't help with that, but there's a lot of work that just needs hands and a brain. We've been really lucky to have help with that stuff.

What's it like managing interns?

JMS: Not something to be overlooked. That's work in itself, right? At first, we did not realize that. We had interns one summer. We were like: "We can't do this anymore!" because I wasn't there all the time and the feathers were getting damaged. That costs money and we were losing on it. We weren't ready to teach someone what to do. But it takes time. We had someone come in. You have to dedicate a few days to be available, and you have to check in with them.

We like to have them in two's now because I think they get to have a supportive relationship. We work really well together, but we have very different skill sets. That has happened pretty naturally so far for the people we have worked with. I think its also very comforting that although it might not be their thing, something else is. Gabe is really good with them though. You are.

GFC: [Laughs]

JMS: Being able to back up and not be a control freak about something. While I'm like: "Okay, you're going to do it like this. Are you watching me? Are you watching me? Are you watching me? I'm just gonna do it. Just watch me."

GFC: I think we've been super lucky. Most of the interns we have are close to our age.

JMS: And interested in making things on there own time. Something that feels really important is when they come in we are like: "Why do you want to be here? What do you imagine getting out of it? Because we can't afford to pay you right now. If we could, we'd love to but really we want to make sure that you are happy here and that you want to be here. So what can we give you?" They've been really amazing relationships. 

It’s also fun to have someone, who also makes products, to be like: "Have you worked in concrete? I'm thinking about concrete. Tell me about what you know about concrete." Or: "Do you know about this specific wood species?" It has accelerated our process and that's the exciting thing as we've been expanding our community. As we get better as a group, we individually get better.

Are you ever concerned about your trade secrets getting out?

GFC: Yes, we do. We live in terror of that. And we've done a really funny thing. We haven't invented any of the things that we make. Didn't invent arrows. Anyone can make an arrow. The thread stuff that we do - we didn't know this when we started, but it's called winding – [has] been happening in India for 5,000 years. It's winding thread around sticks. So relatively little of what we do is our own.

JMS: We have a machine that helps us with it, and I’m not going to tell you how that machine is made.

GFC: It’s not so much the knowledge that exists, so much as the hand feel of how you attach the thread or feather. It’s like body memory. Anyone can make anything that we do in a way that's not true for a glassblower or carpenter, for sure.

JMS: But I also think in order for people to have our things, we undervalue [them] to where we tried sending the arrow to a manufacturing firm that puts you in touch with makers all over the world. They give you quotes for what it costs to have that thing produced, and people that told us that it costs more than what we sell it for – wholesale - to produce it outside of America. I'm scared but at the same time, it wouldn't make sense to rip us off. Who else would do this for this much money?

The other thing, we try to keep as much unique as possible. Every arrow and tassel is unique.

GFC: And all the marbles are unique.

What other jobs did you have before you decided to commit to your brand full-time?

GFC: I did a lot of art handling and I'm an artist assistant.

JMS: I was teaching after school art at a middle school in Bushwick for two years.

When did you decide to go full-time? What was the turning point?

JMS: It finally got to a point that neither of us would be able to do it. We were losing money for orders that we couldn't fill in time because and we just couldn't keep up with it. I finished up the school year because it felt like the responsible thing to do. We saw it coming. It gave us the opportunity to prepare ourselves for it. It was a matter of: "If we cannot commit more time, this thing will never become big enough for us to live on." But it was still a leap because we didn't have enough work to generate enough money to do it. It's kind of like jumping from one train to another while moving.

GFC: I remember talking to a bunch of people when we were making a decision and everyone - store owners and peers - were like: "There's no moment where it's not terrifying, and you just have to trust."

Tell me about your childhood.

JMS: As a kid, I was a pretty big tomboy. I liked playing sports and playing with my bow and arrow in the basement. I had a lot of animals. Kind of a loner. I got along well with people. It wasn't an anti-social thing. I could have a lot of fun by myself.

GFC: I went to the same fancy prep school for 15 years. I was the head of the environment committee. My parents are shrinks. I was kind of a loner. I had a lot of fun alone, too, making up games.

Do you have siblings?

GFC: I have a sister.

JMS: No, but my mom's two basset hounds were likened to my sisters.

What do your parents think about what you do?

GFC: I think they are completely astounded that we're supporting ourselves and are thrilled.

JMS: My mom's family is artists and are just really interested in how we do it, and are impressed by the handwork. And that's what their passion has been, too. My Dad and his father were carpenters. My dad has played a  huge role in teaching me a lot of the wood stuff. He just couldn't be more thrilled in passing the knowledge, that he got from his father, to me, and also the tools and stuff. When I left my job with health insurance, they were also like: "Are you sure?" I was like: "I don't know but I have to try."

If you didn't live in New York, where would you live?

JMS: If I didn't live in New York City, I would live in Upstate New York. For both of us, all of our family - and 90 percent of our friends - are in the New York area.

I think that as much as people in New York are a little bit like: "I need privacy. I need space," everybody here does love people. They wouldn't be here otherwise. I don't know. I recently got an iPhone, but I still never wear my headphones when I get on the train because I'm looking for someone to interact with. I love people. It's why New York is so thrilling.

GFC: I used to say that if I didn't live in New York, I would live in New Orleans. I don't know if that's true anymore. I don't know if I couldn't live in New York, or in a barn Upstate. Or both.

What's your idea of happiness?

JMS: Happiness looks a lot like what I'm doing right now. I mean, I wouldn't mind a little more money because stressing about how I'm going to pay my bills isn't fun.

I really do wake up every morning earlier than I used to, so excited to go downstairs into the studio and start working on whatever I left behind the night before. Sometimes I will just belt out: "Yes!"

Especially after teaching in a middle school, which I also felt really passionate about. [But] that age group takes so much; it was just heartbreaking to have to put down whatever I was investing in at the moment, and going into a place to try to convince kids that it's worth studying.

GFC: [Working] all day and then making things at night. Which is what I do right now. I imagine waking up in a barn and having coffee on the lawn with Jolie and the dogs that Jolie is in charge of. Every once in a while a friend, who is also a maker of some kind, would come by and be like: "Do you want a cracker?" or "I just make a song." And then we would all cook dinner together, have a bonfire, and sing songs on a guitar.

JMC: We do talk a lot about having a place near Upstate New York that might be our primary living situation that would allow us to have more space and allow us to be closer to communities of makers that are able to survive that are fewer and farther between here, but still having like one foot in the city.

The answer is more of the same thing that we have now, but more space and more time to do the things we're already doing.

What's difficult?

GFC: I think being 25 is difficult. I feel all the time that I'm a giant baby. I don't know enough about the world to do. You kind of muddle through and it's a big muddle.

JMS: The pace of New York and capitalism is such that you're so driven by making money that sometimes the things that you really enjoy can get mixed up with the harshness of: "This has to be sellable. Or, if you make this by hand you're not going to be able to compete [companies that can produce 10,000]. What we're doing is difficult because we're humans and not machines, and people expect things to look the same or to look completely flawless like a human has never touched it. Like fingerprints are not acceptable. That's a crazy place to be as a maker. And that's hard.

What would you be doing if you weren't doing what you're doing?

GFC: My emergency Plan B is being a community mental health worker in a tiny town.

JMS: I might teach surfing somewhere. I think I would probably be happy anywhere I could be physical and outdoors.

Do you know how to surf?

JMS: A little bit.

Fair enough. What’s something that you couldn’t live without?

JMS: My friends.

GFC: I was going to say friendship!

JMS: Really.

GFC: Yeah.

JMS: I really feel that way though.

GFC: It'd be too rough.

What are you nostalgic for?

GFC: Oh, God. The first thing I thought of was hats. Not a beanie, but a hat like you mean it. Like an Easter hat.

JMS: And Sunday in Bed-Stuy is a good place for hats. Church ladies really hold it down.

GFC: They do incredible work.

JMS: I guess I’m a bit nostalgic for a time that I was never a part of. That’s really melancholy, when you're nostalgic for something you were never a part of. I'm nostalgic for a time when New York was small enough that you could really know the people that you wanted to know, fairly easily, and that it was centralized in a way. Like Downtown Manhattan: you could go somewhere and see what was to be seen. Now, we have this artistic community in Bed-Stuy and I really love and appreciate that and that's kind of a unique thing, but I mean it's happening in so many neighborhoods it's hard to really get it all.

What’s a moment you would change if you could?

JMS: For me, I wouldn't change anything.

GFC: When I was in high school, I remember having a really long conversation about changing the decision to have - way back in the agrarian societies - the ladies be gatherers and men be hunters, and that was where everything went wrong. But I don't know if I'd be prepared to take on that kind of change.

JMS: I just want to imagine that there might have been wrong decisions made. I'd rather that we come around to acknowledging them and making changes for the best in the future rather than regretting mistakes, rather than looking back or looking forward to righting our wrongs. Not because I'm satisfied with everything.

GFC: It feels more hopeful to not pine for alternative endings.

What’s overrated and underrated?

JMS: Apathy is overrated.

GFC: We're so on the same page! It's really satisfying.

JMS: Is that what you're thinking?

GFC: Everyone needs to be more sincere.

JMS: It's underrated. Being engaged and present and caring is underrated.

GFC: There’s no mentality of risk. We graduated right when the recession was starting and everyone was clenching manically at things.

JMS: I think that everybody was like: “This is the hardest time ever.” It’s like we've never tried to be adults before so it’s never been easier.

What's your greatest fear?

JMS: Getting yelled at. Gabe is helping me work through it. I don’t know where that comes from.

GFC: It used to be zombies in a real way.

JMS: I made him cry once. I didn't realize how real it was [for him], but it was very real.

GFC: She pretended to be a zombie; it was really scary.

JMS: I didn’t realize how real it was.

GFC: I think it clicked from zombies to something closer to public terror. Like crazy mobs.

JMS: Or, irrational bad people who would do something. Bad people are really scary.

GFC: It feels like media, mental health professionals, and everyone are like: “Sometimes everyone needs to know there is a bad seed. Someone is just a bad egg, and they need to be put in prison, killed, deported or just removed in some capacity.” And it feels really important to be like: “Everyone is good and struggling. Sometimes struggling looks like killing people." And that’s really unacceptable, [but] the impulse to write someone off in any context I think is scary. There's a tension between it being necessary and being unacceptable.

How would you describe your eating habits? Getting personal, here.

GFC: If I'm eating alone, they're ridiculous.

How ridiculous?

GFC: Like a spoonful of peanut butter and a chick patty out of the pan. Or, a lot of crackers

JMS: Pretzels.

GFC: A lot of pretzels.

If I’m not throwing a dinner party, it gets a lot simpler.

Do you cook?

GFC: Sometimes. Jolie’s a better cook than me.

JMS: Also, I am not motivated to cook for myself. I'm in a relationship now, so I cook a lot. But if I was single, I would probably eat less well, like a lot of take-out.

I skip breakfast and have a latte. Then I’ll skip lunch and it'll be a leftover or something really fast. Specifically with lunch, it's about it being fast because it’s in the middle of our work day.

GFC: We sometimes have dinner together, and then we stop and we're just eating and chatting and it's great. But during lunch it's very much like, how can you shovel food into your face without interrupting what you're doing? Eating is great, but less important.

JMS: It also means leaving Bed-Stuy, which is a little bit of a food desert. There are a few things coming, but some things are dinner only. Some things you can only eat twice a week.

GFC: We have a lot of bodega sandwiches.

JMS: We really do. They're good but in their time and place. They're definitely not something that you can do two days in a row though.

What do you enjoy cooking? Is there something you’re good at making?

JMS: I recently discovered that I'm really good at making penne a la vodka. My stuff is all over the place. There are some things that I make over and over again, but I also like trying to make new things depending on what groceries I have. I will say I'm motivated by meat, and that if I don't have like some meat component I find myself less motivated to cook. It doesn't have to be the main dish, just the pancetta for flavoring the sauce.

GFC: Me, too.

JMS: But I don't really like sweet things other than fruit.

GFC: I love sweet things.

What’s tragic?

JMS: Amy Winehouse's death. It's not a joke.

GFC: Public confusion.

What’s romantic?

GFC: Tuna fish sandwiches and a milkshake.

JMS: Personal!

Our friend group has a tradition. For the last three years, we've left the city and found a house to be together for New Year's. I think it’s being coined as Friendsgiving - even though it's right after Christmas. It’s more like Christmas for friends. We did it this year and it was wonderful. There’s something really romantic about taking your friends as seriously as you take your family; they mean a lot to us and that relationship is kind of romantic.

What's something you want to do before you die?

JMS: I'd like to go scuba diving.

GFC: Meet the Queen of England or the Pope.

How would you like to be remembered?

GFC: A kite festival.

JMS: I really like telling stories, so I think a lot of stories being told.

What's the greatest lesson you've learned?

GFC: I wish Nike didn't steal it, but it really is: "Just do it." But Nike didn't come up with that; it was pre-Nike.

JMS: A little bit all the time. For a long time, I fantasized that "making it" would look like kicking back, relaxing, and not doing a thing. But I realized that "making it" looks like working really hard and just loving the work that you do. It’s never going to be perfect or this moment that kicks into: "Woo!" You're working on it all the time, but as much as you can all the time in a very sustainable, long-term way.

What are some misconceptions about what you do and who you are? 

GFC: It’s only fun.

JMS: Maybe that it’s only about the way that something looks or how expensive it is, and that it's not political, or that it's surface deep - that it's design and not art, that it's just about aesthetics and material quality.

How would you describe your political views?

GFC: Queer feminism.

JMC: Pretty radical. Pretty queer. Definitely feminist.

And your religious beliefs?

GFC: I’m gonna be the first Jewish Pope.

JMS: He's come out to me as aesthetically Catholic.

I believe in spirits, ghosts, and energies, but don't at all feel close to any religious organizations. I like to lift some of the practices that people in different religions practice in a very personal way. I think it's really powerful and there’s a lot out there.