They go unnoticed, or almost. However, they are essential players in the cultural environment. The duty offers a series of portraits of behind-the-scenes professions, through the confidences of professionals who practice them or who have already practiced them. Today: framers.
In his Mile End studio, Martin Schop is working on framing a new work by Caroline Monnet. “Because she generally uses the same construction materials, we know how we’re going to put it in our case intended for a museum frame, by mechanically securing it with fabric hinges,” the framer explains. Today, the task is rather simple, or at least unsurprising, but sometimes new materials bring their own set of challenges. “We have to do tests to make sure it holds up well, because Caroline Monnet’s works are heavy and travel a lot,” he adds.
Caroline Monnet, but also Marion Wagschal, Darby Milbrath, Élise Lafontaine, Berirouche Feddal, Clovis-Alexandre Desvarieux, galleries, museums, collectors, and even ordinary people: all of Montreal flock to Martin Schop to have their works custom-framed. It must be said that the self-taught Dutch-born artist, with a background in petrochemical engineering and photography, no longer has to prove his know-how.
“I started making frames on a small scale at Concordia, for friends and family, during and after my studies as a technician in the Photo Department,” he recalls. A business that then grew in the early 2000s, when he moved to de Gaspé Avenue in a studio that he shared with cabinetmakers who would allow him to perfect his practice. “Now, I have three employees on the wood workshop side, then two for assembly,” he says.
“When you put it like that, framing seems simple, but it’s actually very complex,” confides Martin Schop. Looking at the organization of his workshop, equipped with cutting-edge machinery, you can see that everything is thought out down to the millimeter to achieve a refined, discreet and high-quality result, designed from the finest materials and bordering on perfection, contributing to his reputation. To get there, the framer never hesitates to talk with his peers, like François Simard, based in Quebec City, whose specialization in hinge assembly he praises. “We share a lot of ideas. If one or the other is stuck with something, we talk about it to try to find a solution,” says the Montrealer.
Always reuse
For her part, Michèle F. Bérard, a visual artist behind the company Cool Cadre, considers herself more of a “disassembler and reassembler” of frames, which she finds in thrift stores or through donations. Her motto? Second-hand. “Through exhibitions, I told myself that I could frame my works myself using frames that already exist,” she says. To do this, she doesn’t limit herself to a few cleanings and repairs. On the contrary, she gives existing structures a real makeover. “I quickly realized that I could also transform them by the color of the moldings and mats,” she explains.
By transforming frames, for herself and for her loved ones, Michèle F. Bérard has also gradually acquired second-hand equipment to expand her clientele. “I wanted to democratize framing and make it a little more accessible thanks to this idea that was close to my heart, to reuse existing materials by giving them a new life,” she says. With Cool Cadre, there are as few interventions as possible, and it is the work that adapts to the frame. A philosophy that works even with damaged frames. “Very often, a job of paint is enough to make them look new,” she says.
The combination of colours is therefore her favourite playground. And since she depends on reused raw materials, the main challenge for Cool Cadre is to have enough stock to satisfy the needs of her customers. “Of course I have limits with this method, but I probably have a format in reserve that can still suit what the person is looking for,” emphasizes Michèle F. Bérard.
At Martin Schop, too, we try to be as environmentally friendly as possible. In a different way. “When a customer wants MDF [medium-density fiberboard, ou panneau de fibres de bois à densité moyenne] for its frames, we choose ones without formalin, because we don’t want employees to be too exposed to chemicals,” says Anne-Renée Hotte, artist and partner in the city and in business of the framer. Together, they try, as much as possible, to favor natural materials and to reuse the scraps, to give them back to members of the artistic community who would need them.
“We use the cardboard packaging of the plexiglass and glass to make the corners that will serve to protect the frames during transport. The same goes for the bubble wrap, which we never throw away,” explains Martin Schop. According to him, nothing is lost, everything is recycled.
“Yes, there is IKEA, which exists for a good reason, with its ready-to-use frames, and it’s great. But it should also be noted that the work of our cabinetmakers is appealing,” notes Anne-Renée Hotte. And it builds loyalty among an eclectic clientele. Whether Laurent Duvernay-Tardif calls on Martin Schop to frame his football jerseys for his mother before retiring from the sport or parents want to preserve their children’s drawings, there are all good reasons to visit Martin Schop and his team again.
Clients know that they will always receive a personalized welcome and advice for the work, whatever it may be. “We have conversations with clients to better understand what they want, and we often provide them with a sample. Then we launch production based on my plans,” explains Martin Schop, before getting back to work for Caroline Monnet.