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Tacklebox: Finding the tools to create enticing environs for the art and design world, and then some |
Growing up in Roanoke, Virginia, Jeremy Barbour says architecture was never on his radar. Now the principal of three-year-old New York City—based firm Tacklebox, as well as a teacher at Columbia’s School of Architecture (where he received his master’s) and Parsons The New School For Design, he lives and breathes it. He credits one professor in particular for taking him from experimenting with architecture to obsessed. “I took a class at Virginia Tech with Pia Sarpaneva,” says Barbour, “and she really inspired me to understand that the possibilities with architecture, despite the parameters, were endless.”
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If one professor put him on the path to design, it was the whole educational experience that kept him going. “The reality is that I never wanted to leave school,” says Barbour. “But I couldn’t afford to stay there.” Barbour did stay in New York City, and ended up working for two small firms in succession. “I knew I wanted to eventually work for myself, though. I wanted to be in the position to set up my own constraints.”
As luck would have it, a fashion designer friend needed a small apartment renovation. Barbour jumped off the diving board, as he says, and took on the project under the name Tacklebox. “For me,” he says, “your tacklebox is the place you keep your tools. It seemed fitting.”
His next project, the flagship boutique for clothing designer Phillip Lim in New York City’s SoHo, really launched Tacklebox into the design realm. “If I had known who he was, I would have been too nervous,” says Barbour, who admits that Lim didn’t really know who Barbour was, either, but trusted him. “He’s opened a few stores around the world now,” Barbour notes, “and he always hires untested architects to design them. I think he appreciates that spark of creativity that comes with just starting out. For me, he said, ‘This is your project, don’t mess it up.’ “ The shop, with its wall of stacked flooring, machined and precisely placed, juxtaposed with old SoHo elements, such as a cast-iron railing and white plaster walls, is just the right venue to feature Lim’s Modern yet Classic design aesthetic.
“I’ve been so lucky to have clients in the design world,” says Barbour, noting that such clients often believe in the vision of another creative person, and trust it. He mentions a current project, a small shop in Red Hook, Brooklyn, for a couple of soap manufacturers who call their business Saipua. “They do everything by hand, and inspired by that, I’ve created a box within a box for them where they can play.” Knowing people in the New York design world has given Barbour another edge. Despite the fact that Tacklebox, which has had as many as five people but is currently down to two, is working on a couple of commercial projects, it hasn’t been enough work to keep Barbour busy during the economic downturn of the past year. “I found myself with some time on my hands, so I took a look at what I had around me, and who I could collaborate with,” he says about rummaging in his proverbial tacklebox. Barbour found that he had an in with the design press, and a talented artist friend who, like Barbour, was interested in “finding the surprising in the commonplace.” With Andrew Woodrum, Barbour started an accessories business called Box and Flea. “We make silk-screened bags and accessories that are both useful and beautiful.” Will Box and Flea bring Barbour away from architecture? “Not a chance,” he insists, saying that the accessories line is a “meditative thing to work on on the weekends. First and foremost, it’s architecture that gets me up in the morning.” In fact, he says that by making the rounds with his Box and Flea products, he’s met potential clients in other designers and store owners. A useful box of tackle, indeed.



