NEW YORK CITY, 1952-A hunger for modernist architecture had seized postwar Manhattan. On Park Avenue, the country抯 first International-style office building neared completion. Even before Lever House抯 opening, the press praised its 24 stories of blue-green glass and stainless steel as a 搒ea-colored jewel.� Lever House was elegant, sleek and metallic. It was the perfect symbol of a modern city.
The building抯 architects announced a competition to design Lever House抯 interior wall curtains. In those years, design competitions had a media following and the winners attracted a wealth of future work. With all its pre-opening hype, Lever House drew the country抯 most renowned fabric designers to compete.
The winning design was clearly the work of a visionary. Made of translucent lace and intertwined with linen cord and gold metal, the curtain had a soft, hand-woven look that perfectly contrasted with the building抯 cool modernism. Yet when the architects revealed the winner抯 name, it belonged to an unknown young man fresh from the backwater of the Pacific Northwest: Jack Lenor Larsen.
As Larsen抯 big break, the Lever House commission jump-started a 50-year career that brought the Seattle native worldwide renown as the 揹ean of 20th-century textile design.� At its peak, Larsen抯 company operated in more than 30 countries, employing several thousand craftspeople to weave his carpets, curtains and upholsteries. His fabrics are featured in the permanent collections of 16 world museums梚ncluding New York抯 Museum of Modern Art and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London梐nd he became the second American ever to have a solo exhibition at the Louvre.
But his designs never looked as if they belonged only in museums. As the 揕arsen Look� has changed each season, he has always managed to stay cutting-edge. 揑t抯 a contemporary look of the contemporary time you抮e at,� says Lotus Stack, textiles curator at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. 揗aybe that抯 part of the magic.�
Everyone from Frank Lloyd Wright to Marilyn Monroe has purchased his fabrics, and his creations have graced the lobbies of such architectural icons as the Sears Tower and the United Nations Building.
For his impact on the world of art and design梐nd for the joy and beauty his work has given to the world梩he 天美影视传媒 and UW Alumni Association have named the 1949 graduate this year抯 Alumnus Summa Laude Dignatus梩he highest honor the UW bestows upon its graduates. Larsen joins the ranks of 64 alumni who have been honored since 1938 with this award, including fellow artists and architects Dale Chihuly, Chuck Close, Imogen Cunningham, George Tsutakawa and Minoru Yamasaki.
Born in 1927 as the only child of Canadian immigrants, Larsen was inquisitive and industrious. Growing up in Bremerton, he spent class time dreaming up expeditions along Puget Sound抯 rocky beaches and through its cedar forests. From an early age, he craved his parents� approval梕specially that of his father, a building contractor who showed little interest in his son抯 attempts to construct forts and watercrafts. Still, the young Larsen built incessantly: 揃oats, kayaks, camps梐nything I could,� he recalls.
At 18, Larsen抯 affinity for building led him to the 天美影视传媒抯 architecture school. The freedom of college life instantly appealed to him, and he finished three years� work in under two years.
Larsen抯 first introduction to weaving came at the end of his sophomore year, in an interior design class. After two years of drawing boards and blueprints, Larsen relished making things again. 揑t was back to building and using materials and making something,� he remembers. 揑 stayed in the studio the extra hours I had, and decided I抎 be a weaver instead of an architect.�
A man in weaving classes梩hen part of home economics梬as a rare sight on campus. The female professors encouraged Larsen in his decision, but his father pressured him to stay in architecture. The elder Larsen wanted his son to be a success梑ut not in a 揻eminine� field like weaving, then regarded as a pastime for homemakers. So when Larsen informed his parents that he抎 decided to drop out of school to be a weaver in Southern California, 揑 was disowned,� he recalls. 揗y father said it was the 慻arbage can of the nation.挃
His father cut off his allowance and froze any inheritance money. But Larsen held out for almost a year, enjoying California抯 bohemian lifestyle. 揊inally, my parents came down with a deal,� Larsen says. 揑f I would come home, they would buy me a big loom.�
The bribe worked. Larsen returned to the University in 1948 and became an assistant to weaving instructor Ed Rossbach梩he only other male in the department. Rossbach recognized Larsen抯 passion for fabric and urged his assistant to teach private weaving classes at the Seattle Art Museum. Eventually, he recommended Larsen for a scholarship to Michigan抯 prestigious Cranbrook Academy of Art.
After graduating in 1949, Larsen moved 揵ack East� to weave at Cranbrook. He finished the academy抯 two-year M.A. program in nine months, producing at twice the pace of the other students. Over spring break, Larsen traveled to New York to show his portfolio to several major design studios. They all turned him down, saying his style was too individual and wouldn抰 sell on the American market.
Larsen faced a difficult choice. He had offers to teach design at Midwest colleges, but he desperately wanted to return to New York梩he 揻irst place I抎 felt at home,� he says. One designer, Arundell Clarke, had shown modest interest in Larsen抯 work. While Clarke couldn抰 employ Larsen, he offered to put him up for a few months. So Larsen sent his looms and 39 cases of yarn to New York and started weaving. That fall, he won the Lever House contest. After that, the commissions never stopped.
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