At first glance, visitors to London's Lyndsey Ingram gallery might mistake The Bourdon Street Chippy for an ordinary British fish and chip shop. Celebrity portraits hang on the walls, and the packed counter displays what appears to be battered cod, sausages, and mushy peas. However, all 65,000 items in this extraordinary establishment have been meticulously hand-crafted from felt by artist Lucy Sparrow, creating a tactile reimagining of one of Britain's most beloved culinary institutions.
The immersive installation, which runs through September 14th across two rooms of the gallery, features Sparrow herself working behind the counter daily until the exhibition closes. Customers can purchase and take home her felt creations, from beaded pickles to smiley-faced pieces of cod. "What I do is endurance art," Sparrow explained during an interview at the gallery. "I lock myself away for 11 months to make, and then go through a grueling period of being behind the counter every day, as you would in a real fish and chip shop. That is the performance."
Sparrow's felt creations are anthropomorphized with black, beady eyes and painted smiles, transforming everyday food items into charming characters. "I can still appreciate a big museum or a white cube space," she said, "but it has always been my intention for people to feel my art as much as look at it. And I soon realized that the interactions had when people visit are as much a part of the art as the pieces themselves."
This latest project represents the culmination of over a decade of work creating immersive felt installations around the world. Sparrow's journey began in 2014 with Cornershop, her first immersive installation in Bethnal Green, East London, which featured 4,000 felt versions of chocolate, soft drinks, and newspapers found in a typical British convenience store. Since then, her hand-crafted shops have appeared globally, from a New York bagel store to a Bangkok street food cart, with each installation becoming increasingly intricate.
The Bourdon Street Chippy required extensive research and preparation, with Sparrow spending over five years conceptualizing the project and three months conducting dedicated field research. "I went to thirty or forty chippies and took ideas from all of them," the artist revealed. She then applied her own artistic vision to create what she describes as an "amped-up, maximalist, multicolored version" of the British staple, complete with playful felt posters warning "Do Not Feed the Seagulls" and "No Smoking," alongside fake hygiene certificates and food safety instructions.
The exhibition taps into powerful feelings of nostalgia that many British people associate with their local chip shops. "Everybody in the U.K. grew up with a local chip shop, and the exhibition plays on the idea that people tend to recall the past as being far more idyllic than it was in reality," Sparrow explained. "Everything seemed more technicolor, more fun, but also more simple back in the day." The artist deliberately incorporated basic, vintage graphics with bright colors and solid patterns to emphasize this nostalgic quality.
Sparrow's attention to authenticity extends to the brand partnerships featured in the installation. Shelves near the windows display instantly recognizable felt versions of bottles including Heinz Tomato Ketchup and Hellmann's Mayonnaise. The artist also partnered with the Cornish Sea Salt Company to support smaller, British-owned businesses. "I aim to make the show as authentic as possible, and to do that I'll include all of the big brands. However, it's important to also platform smaller, British-owned companies," she stated.
The meticulous, labor-intensive nature of Sparrow's craft reflects deeper personal experiences and behaviors. In June, the artist publicly revealed her ongoing battle with anorexia since her teenage years, sharing how this struggle has influenced her artistic process. "I know that I obsessively made art as a kid," she told the interviewer. "I obsessively did everything as a kid, which is unfortunately one of the horrible traits of anorexia. And I think that is so evident in the art that I make. When I was very ill as a teenager, I was so obsessed with food and thought about it night and day because I wasn't eating it."
In her recovery journey, Sparrow's relationship with her art has evolved significantly. She now views her work through the lens of self-care and responsibility to her creations. "I know that I need to stay well to have the energy to make these things," she reflected. "It's almost like I owe the felt [creations]: They've looked after me, and I now need to look after them." This perspective has transformed her intensive artistic practice from a potentially destructive obsession into a healing and nurturing process, while maintaining the extraordinary attention to detail that makes her installations so compelling to visitors worldwide.
