PROFILE-August 2010

by Rebecca Falzano
Photography Sean Alonzo Harris

Creating exhibits for the windows of the world

The creative chaos of Mark White’s waterfront workshop on Commercial Street in Portland couldn’t contrast more with the string of polished storefronts that line Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.

But despite their differences in atmosphere and even echelon, the two have a before-and-after relationship that makes them inextricably linked; the “before” happens in Portland by the working hands of White’s team, and the “after” is the eye candy that fills retail windows and stores all over the world.

While White has earned an international reputation for imaginative window displays, his craft could be more accurately described as bringing other people’s visions to life. Visions that include a parachute concept using silk scarves and hundreds of leather-covered rocks for Hermès of Paris. Giant copper balls commemorating the eightieth anniversary of the penny loafer for Cole Haan. Or his latest project designed by fellow Portland-based firm Wary Meyers: a five-foot-diameter illuminated crumpled ball of lined paper with sketches for VIA’s new headquarters. The list of White’s capabilities on his website seems endless—fixtures, furniture, architectural millwork, cabinetry, installation, retail signage, 3D rendering—maybe because it’s always growing. “We will find a way to make anything,” he says. That anything then becomes another capability to add to the repertoire.

A native of Maine, White took the road less traveled in life, delaying his college career until his late 20s to start his own apprenticeship program and work with his hands. “I didn’t feel super creative then,” he says. “I’ll be the first to admit I was not the kid who was going to finish the model airplane. I’m like those other kids who just end up sniffing the glue and leaving the thing in the box.” As time went on, White noticed his wrists were beginning to bother him, and the possibility of not being able to rely on his hands motivated him to change direction. “I thought that if I lost my hands, I’d have absolutely no earning potential and I’d need many hands,” he recalls. White then enrolled in an industrial design program at Rhode Island School of Design. After graduating, he worked as a craftsperson for the now defunct Woodward Thomsen Co. in Portland, fabricating a wide range of historical and contemporary residential and architectural projects. But after twelve years there, White found himself at a crossroads. “I just didn’t know what to do with myself,” he says. “For the first time in my life I’d lost my muse, and it was an alien feeling.”

So, White did something he knew he liked doing: he threw a big party at his house.

Some people roll out the red carpet for parties; Mark White rolls out sheets of paper. And he rolls them out everywhere—on the walls and floors and on every available surface. And then he doles out pencils and crayons to his guests and instructs them to let their imaginations run wild. This party was the beginning of a sea change for White. He was introduced by a friend to an executive at Cole Haan. Impressed with his portfolio, the drawing idea, and the furniture White had made for his home, she asked him to build a shelf for her bedroom closet. “The shelf ended up being a 20-foot wardrobe with sliding pieces of Dacron sail material and stainless-steel rods. It was really slick,” White says, smiling. One thing led to another (traditional woodworking, then some fixtures) and before long, White had secured Cole Haan as a client. Calls from other high-end retailers began to pour in. “What would happen is that a contact at one place would leave and go somewhere else, and because I had a relationship with them, they wanted to keep working with me. So first it’s Cole Haan, then Coldwater Creek, which then turns into Louis Vuitton, Dolce and Gabbana, Saks Fifth Avenue, BCBG Maxazria, Neiman Marcus, Tiffany & Co., etc. Word spread very quickly.”

The beginnings of White’s operation, he admits, were a little rough around the edges. “I rented a small shop with several carpenters. It was pretty unprofessional at first—beer drinking, dogs running around.” In search of a more professional space for his business, White found his current location on Commercial Street and expanded from there. He hired brand consultant Chris Kast to help establish an identity and build a website. He became Mark White Inc.

Today, Mark White Inc. comprises three shops, each with its own separate function. The workshop on the waterfront is for prototyping—everything from Indian Kerala boats to paper airplanes. The nearby 13,000-square-foot Bell Street shop is where the hands-on fabrication and final assembly is done by White’s “imagineers” (a la Disney). The third is an industrial sewing operation in Scarborough that packages, distributes, and makes blouses for Portland fashion designer Jill McGowan.

Trusting his shop managers (Marcus Goforth, Jeff Law, and Doug Murray) to run the fabrication side of the business, White is able to concentrate on responding to daily calls from the creative departments of current and prospective clients. White calls it rapid thinking. Warp-speed rapid thinking. The process goes a little something like this: “I’ll get a call from Hermès wanting to do a window display for a store in Beirut using the concept of thousands of paper and velum butterflies attached to helical powder-coated aluminum coils. So I’ll go to the nearest diner or pub, take my tools with me (Sharpie, paper, and Blackberry), and sketch some ideas. Then I photograph that idea and send it to my renderer, who then produces it photographically perfect. And within 45 minutes of the call, Hermès has an email from me.” White believes that this kind of responsiveness generates momentum and secures work for his company. “The more momentum we get behind a project early on, the more likely we’ll get the job.” It’s a process that has worked for White, who reported revenue of nearly $5 million last year. Despite his success, White does not consider himself a businessman and has a modest view of himself. He instead subscribes to the philosophy that it’s not what you know, but who you know, that matters. And White knows a lot of people—2,000 contacts are stored in his cell phone.

White’s base may be Maine, but he loves his frequent trips to New York for installations, which he also uses as an opportunity to size up his competition. “The bar is so high down there; I find it very inspirational,” he says. “If someone can do a vacuum-metalized piece, I can do it. It creates this memory bank of ideas for when I talk to people.” And with his art school background, White is just as comfortable talking the art talk as he is shop talk.

Back inside his workshop, White points to an elaborate display adjacent to a wooden boat hanging on the wall that looks like a work of art. “This is just a temporary piece that Cole Haan will have up for a few weeks. It’ll hang on a grid wall to display their new shoe collection.”

“What do they do with it when the display comes down?” I dare to ask.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t want to know.”

The displays might be temporary, but their impression is lasting.