A Window onto the World

Gillian JakabI know you’ve worked with window motifs in the past, and now, looking at your Hermès installation, I’m seeing many windows—of different scales, colors, fabrics—inside the large one. What a fitting frame! I’m curious how you first approached this collaboration, and how it evolved.

Lisha BaiActually, the collaboration felt very fortuitous. I had just finished preparing for a show and was looking around my studio, playing with the scraps of fabric that had accumulated around me. That’s not typically how I approach my work. Normally, I start with a sketch, or at least a more clearly defined idea. But in this instance, I began assembling pieces more intuitively, letting color and form lead the way. It gradually evolved into what I started to perceive as a village of shapes framed by a window.

When Jesse Davis [head of Artist Windows at Hermès] got in touch and asked if I’d be interested in putting forward a proposal, I was deeply honored. Hermès is such an incredible brand that deeply values craft and it’s not often that somebody calls me up and says, “You do you in this amazing space and we’ll give you a team of people to help you realize your idea.” That invitation really shifted my perspective. I began to see the two-dimensional collage as something spatial, as an environment. I started thinking about how the scraps and shapes might translate into three-dimensional structures, specifically buildings and trees.

I also became very interested in the idea of a window within a window. That relationship felt central to the project, linking the work to the architecture of the storefront and heightening the viewer’s awareness of the act of looking itself. The Hermès theme for the season, “Venture Beyond,” also resonated with what I had already been exploring in the studio, particularly this sense of moving outward, from interior space toward an imagined landscape. It felt a bit as though the stars had aligned.

GJIt does feel like a portal into the beyond—like a magical fairytale village. Who do you imagine inhabiting the world you created?

LBI’ve spent so much time in the world of this space that I started to picture myself within it. I find myself wondering, Where am I in this? And having the horse appear as a character was really fun. It’s the first figure I’ve ever introduced into my work. I enjoy the shadow it casts and the way it speaks to the history of the brand.

GJI’d love to hear more about your relationship to material.

LBIt’s always been central to my work. The window, as a form, comes out of my interest in the tension between illusion and materiality, and from the historical idea of painting as a window onto the world. I’m drawn to that paradox of something suggesting space or depth while still asserting itself as a physical object. Fabric is especially compelling to me because it carries both visual and tactile presence. It can evoke a sense of depth or dimension while still revealing its own physicality through texture, seams, and loose threads. Light became another way to explore that same tension. By combining actual illumination with shifts of color that imply light and shadow, the work lingers in that space between reality and representation.

GJYou’ve spoken about drawing inspiration from your background as a Korean American growing up in Alabama and the textile traditions you were exposed to.

LBI’ve always been drawn to bojagi, traditional Korean wrapping cloths, and to that piecework technique. I’ve also been really inspired by the quilts of Gee’s Bend. Both have this dynamic, mesmerizing use of pattern and color. In the Gee’s Bend quilts especially, there’s such a strong sense of movement. The colors and shapes feel almost animated, as if they’re pushing against the material itself. That energy has stayed with me. Even though my work is more representational, I think a lot about the rhythms of those traditions, particularly the way textiles, shapes, and colors come together. They’re a reminder of what textiles can do.

GJPeople who know your work and know Hermès will visit the installation intentionally, but you’re also getting other New Yorkers just walking by on Madison Avenue. What do you hope passersby will take away from looking through the window?

LBI began to think of the installation almost as a kind of public artwork, which was exciting to me. Madison Avenue is such a highly trafficked area, and I like the idea of the work potentially making people pause, even briefly, to look at the light and the shadows. I hope it offers a quiet counterpoint to the pace and intensity of the city, something that might catch them slightly off guard. I’ve always been mesmerized by the way shadows from buildings or street signs overlap and fragment the surface of the sidewalk. In those moments, when I’m fully absorbed in looking, I feel very present. That sense of attention and stillness is something I hope the work might open up for others.

GJParticularly when everyone’s on their phones or intent on their destination, to have an unexpected encounter with the city, to have your attention captured, is very special.

LBAnd also at this time of year, in the dark days of winter, I wanted the installation to carry a sense of luminosity and warmth.