Fairy doors appear as if by magic in Ann Arbor
Smaller than a cat door -- it must be for fairies!
01:00 AM EDT on Sunday, July 2, 2006
BY ANDREA SACHS
The Washington Post
When walking around Ann Arbor, Mich., it's easy to miss the tiny
doors with the tiny knobs and tiny hinges. And if you don't believe
in fanciful creatures, you just might miss the point.
But what's certain is that someone -- real or magical -- is
building what locals are calling "fairy doors," and the town is
going all out for its new inhabitants.
Since last spring, the pint-size doors have been appearing on
structures around the University of Michigan college town: inside a
coffeehouse, beside a grocer's steps, beneath a toy store window.
The entryways are Thumbelina small and are so subtle and
incongruent that they're easy to overlook -- or dismiss. At first
glance, you might mistake one of the eight doors for an electric
socket or a mismatched brick. But look closely and you'll see
evidence that, yes indeed, something very little could live in
there.
Forty-five miles west of Detroit, Ann Arbor is the ideal canvas for
such a quirky display of art and imagination; its population skews
young, liberal and bohemian, and one of its biggest annual events
is the Hash Dash, which celebrates the liberation of pot.
When the fairy doors starting popping up, curiosity grew: People
wondered who built them -- and how they could get a fairy door in
their own home. Maps were printed so visitors could, in the spirit
of a scavenger hunt, track down the intricate, fragile doors.
Apparently, no one (at least those who are talking) will admit to
having seen man, woman or fairy hammering away at the teensy doors.
But Ann Arbor's resident fairy researcher, Jonathan Wright, has
some intriguing theories.
At Sweetwaters Cafe, just a table away from a white fairy door
built into a brick wall, the 46-year-old storyteller and
illustrator explained that the woodland, forest and flower fairies
had been living in nature but were being displaced by urban sprawl.
Searching for a new domicile, the winged ones -- who count among
their relations the Tooth Fairy and Tinkerbell -- ventured into Ann
Arbor. Wright surmised that, liking what they saw, they decided to
uproot to specific addresses amenable to fairies.
How does Wright know all this? Seems he has a direct line to the
fairies, or else he's been reading too much Tolkien. "They are
carefully selecting environments that are appealing to them," he
said. "They are taking up residence in unobtrusive places and
mimicking them."
The urban fairies have clear favorites. Judging by the locations of
the doors, and by the items sold in the related stores, they enjoy
toys, art, candy, fashion, deli meats, theater and caffeine. Wright
hinted that they may also have a yen for books and chocolate.
From the street, the fairy doors are hard to spot; crouching is
required. All but two are outside, and some have interior doors or
windows as well. A few models swing open, allowing civilians to
peek into the fairies' private life.
At Red Shoes, for example, you can see a mini vestibule with an
upholstered reading chair on a tile floor. The Peaceable Kingdom's
doors shield a fairy general store whose wares include baby teeth,
a plastic monkey, hand-knit socks and other gifts left by fairy
admirers. A few establishments also have guest books where people
can comment on the doors and ask pertinent questions like, "If
faeries could order drinks at Sweetwaters, what would they get?"
Answer: Dewdrops.
"Fairies are everywhere, you just have to look," reads one
musing.
If you go
LOCATIONS: Most of the fairy doors are in downtown Ann Arbor. Some
stores, such as Peaceable Kingdom (210 S. Main St.) and Selo/Sheval
Gallery (301 S. Main St.), carry free maps of the fairy
doors.
MORE DOOR LORE: For info on the fairy doors and a map, visit
http://urban-fairies.com. (It includes a "sorta bloggish spot"
titled Gnome News is Good News.) For general information: Ann Arbor
Area Convention and Visitors Bureau, (800) 888-9487,
www.annarbor.org.
