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A rising entrepreneur in San Francisco with deep Midwestern roots, Christina Bryant spent a year as an ASL lower school student and has never forgotten it. She earned her B.A. from the University of Virginia, her M.A. and M.B.A. from Stanford, and worked in both arts fundraising and international development before starting St. Frank, a company that sells framed handmade textiles created by artisans from around the world. Here’s a look into her time in London, her passion for art and developing countries, and the remarkable way she combined them into her new venture.
You grew up and graduated from high school in St. Louis but spent Grade 5 at ASL. What brought you to London that year? My dad took a sabbatical to study art history and French. He is also an entrepreneur, so had that flexibility, and he wanted to focus on things he neglected early on. So my parents, my younger brother and I moved to London so my dad could take time to study. At that point, my parents became more serious about collecting art, which had a huge influence on my life as well.
How did ASL compare to your school back home? There were a few things that were particularly different from my sheltered community in the Midwest that I appreciate and still remember. For starters, the student body was incredibly diverse. It was the first time I made friends who were from around the world, from cultures very different from mine, and this was eye-opening. Another thing that stands out about my ASL experience was the School’s broad focus on the arts. We spent a lot of time in music, band and language classes, and these hadn’t previously played a large of a role in my schooling.
What is your favorite ASL memory? It’s funny, but I loved riding the school bus. I lived on Phillimore Gardens in Kensington, and the bus was an experience that I hadn’t had before. It was fun to meet kids from different grades. Overall, I made really good friends who I kept in touch with for a while, and I came back to London to visit them. Some became penpals before email! One of my dear friends from college was an ASL alum, and I forged another ASL friendship in business school. The ASL world is big and small, and it’s amazing to have that connection with people even if you didn’t overlap in school. It’s funny how connected I‘ve been even though I was only there for a year.
From majoring in art history to working at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, it’s obvious you have a real artistic passion. Where did this originate? I think it originated at home. Both of my parents have a real love for the arts. My mom was an art history major and paints today, my dad became an avid collector and deeply engaged in the art world later in life, and they were both involved in the art community internationally. It somewhat started when we lived in London—they became involved in Tate Modern. My parents exposed us to a wide range of art, and I fell in love with it through that process.
How did your experience in the art world lead you to your work in international development? It did not, is the short answer! I worked in development at MoMA, and although I am extremely glad that people give money to the arts, while I was fundraising I realized that what I was really passionate about, from a philanthropic perspective, was supporting people in under-resourced settings. So I did a 180 and moved to rural Rwanda and worked for a wonderful organization, Partners in Health, which provides a preferential option in healthcare for the poor. Working for PIH, I focused on prevention of mother to child transmission of HIV—pretty unrelated to arts fundraising. I still have a love for the arts and pursue that as a hobby, and at the same time, I have a burning passion to help people in developing countries. Once health care and education are available in these settings, what people really need are jobs. I want to help people gain access to quality jobs. This led me to working with artisans—what I do now.
Your new textile art venture, St. Frank, launched this month. What was the spark that first inspired this idea? I wanted to work with artisans in developing countries and provide a meaningful, luxury product for folks in the US. There’s a real gap between fine art and a poster in terms of price and quality. We want to play in the middle in terms of price but still provide something that is authentic and handmade and has a really rich story. When I was in Rwanda, I had this great weekend when a few things I had been working toward in my life came together, and I wanted to treat myself to something special. I bought a tapestry from India and had it framed, and it’s still in my home today: a beautiful, interesting piece that people always ask me about. It’s really expensive to custom frame textiles and no one is producing them at scale right now, so that led us to this particular place in the market.
You said you wanted to provide a product that has a “really rich story.” What sort of stories does St. Frank art tell? I think a great example is our piece by Malian artist Aboubakar Fofana. He studied abroad in France and Japan and has a broad artist background beyond textile design. He is passionate about indigo dyeing. Indigo has a lot of symbolic meaning and represents the passage from the world of the living to the dead. When you look back to ancient Egypt and across North Africa, dyeing was an integral part of their community; it’s a really beautiful way people have adorned fabric throughout time, but it’s a technique that is fading out because of industrialization. People aren’t growing indigo or dyeing anymore. Fofana sought out all the remaining masters of indigo dyeing, studied with them, worked with local farmers and craftsmen to increase organic cotton and indigo growing and production, and he tells the story of indigo through his work while preserving the way it’s made. This is something that really resonates with me: preserving these cultural crafts.
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Fofana's "Organic Indigo" piece from the St. Frank collection
How did you choose the name St. Frank? St. Frank is named after San Francisco. While we are so committed to working with people in developing countries, something we want to celebrate and acknowledge is the special atmosphere in which a company like St. Frank came about. San Francisco, where St. Frank was founded, is an amazing breeding ground for social entrepreneurship. St. Francis of Assisi, San Francisco’s namesake, was the son of a wealthy textile merchant who dedicated his life to helping the poor. His message is consistent with our brand and what we are trying to do. A lot of the socially responsibly sourced products like ours are focusing on a charitable component, and even though working with people in developing countries is core to St. Frank, what we want to focus on with our customers is the cultural context. We want these to be purchases customers make because they love the story and they love the product, rather than just a charity purchase, which may not be as sustainable for us from a business perspective.
Tell me more about St. Frank’s social responsibility. In terms of who we partner with, supporting economic empowerment for artisans is a very strong internal value and a way we think about our operations. The other part is preserving the cultural history of these communities that are often dying out because of industrialization. When I was living in East Africa, I learned that most traditional East African textiles are produced in China or Belgium because it’s cheaper—very few are made locally anymore. A lot of these traditional crafts are getting lost.
To date, what has most surprised you about starting your own business? The support I have gotten from friends and strangers has been overwhelming. People have been so enthusiastic and generous with their time, advice and resources. As someone who hasn’t done this before, this help has made all the difference in getting St. Frank off the ground.
What has been most challenging? The challenges change every day, which is what makes it exciting. The highs are really high, but the lows are really low. Small things can go wrong and it feels personal. Even though you know you will overcome them and you have to, all of your chips are on the table, so the challenges can feel bigger than in another job setting.
The current St. Frank collection features textiles from Mexico, Laos and West Africa. Can you give the ASL community a hint about what artwork comes next and from where? We are going to release textile prints on paper that are also framed. They will be available in smaller sizes and at a lower price point. Next month we are introducing the work of a weaver from Senegal and later some one-of-a-kind pieces from Uzbekistan and Turkey.
What advice would you give to budding ASL entrepreneurs who share your enthusiasm both for art and for making a difference? If people are seriously considering taking the entrepreneurial plunge and feel they have some source of emotional support—I think it’s important to have a few advocates—I would just tell them that you never feel ready to start a company. That’s something I realized that allowed me to dive in. The other thing that I would say is that success can take many forms. Some feel that starting a company is really risky, but I don’t see it that way. In San Francisco and elsewhere, people value and respect the experience you’ve had starting a company. You’ll be able to get another job if need be. It is an incredible learning experience whether you meet all of your goals or not. I believe the risk is smaller than some might think.
To learn more about Christina and her team at St. Frank, visit the St. Frank website.
