Family can teach you a lot of things. For sisters Cheryl and Sarah Hinman, family has taught them the joy in creating together, the insight gained from having someone there to bounce ideas off, and the value of sharing creative skills and resources. The artistic duo are the minds behind the design studio Gingergold, originally a product-based studio started in 2020. Through Gingergold, they were able to use their creative skills in collaboration and offer services such as packaging, branding, and web designing.
Lot’sa
Open Thu-Sat noon-6 PM, Sun 2-6 PM, 4150 N. Elston, ilovelotsa.com
Both sisters learned these skills in college but through very different paths. While Sarah studied graphic design at the University of Kansas, Cheryl focused on art and design at Columbia College Chicago, carving out a slightly more nontraditional path by taking classes like bookbinding and letterpress. These skills—along with woodworking, type design, and illustration—allowed Gingergold to thrive. Through their design studio, they’ve done murals and signage and menu fabrication and design for such places as an ice cream shop and a brewery.
Courtesy Gingergold
But the Hinman sisters couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. They loved creating together but were also deeply embedded in the Chicago craft and makers community. For them, this community has been integral in their journey as artists, as other makers provide the encouragement and support to keep going, and are always there to lend you supplies or offer tips on how to create something specific. There’s no knowledge hoarding here! The Hinman sisters desired to take this sentiment of resource sharing and create a permanent space where folks can do just that. Three years after they opened Gingergold, their friend and creative collaborator Hannah Sellers found a perfect spot in the Avondale neighborhood right next to fellow art spaces like Color Club. In 2023, the three opened Lot’sa.
Lot’sa is hybrid and fluid in nature. Walking in, you are greeted with cards, magnets, totes, notepads, socks, prints, and original art hanging on the walls—all made by local artists (including the three Lot’sa founders). At first blush, it reads as a local shop with an open floor plan. This openness leads you around the till, which looks like a kitchen counter, inviting you into the makers’ area. This is a workshop space, complete with a Riso printer, a wall of tools, a large communal table, and so much more. Here is where the magic happens. In order to truly make this a usable, community space, Lot’sa hosts monthly workshops on things like botanical cyanotype prints, risograph notebooks, and concrete castings.
“During workshops,” Cheryl explains, “We ask, ‘What brought you here today?’ And more often than not it’s because people are sitting at a computer all day for work and they want to make something with their hands. I think people are craving that.” They also host gatherings for folks to intentionally play and meet others, like group drawing nights and queer speed-dating nights hosted by Hot Potato Hearts. The workshops are hosted by various artists and offered on a sliding scale, making them more accessible and mutually beneficial.
Courtesy Lot’sa
Courtesy Lot’sa
Both artists in their own right, Cheryl and Sarah have slightly different skill sets—perfectly matched to complement and strengthen each other’s practices. Both have a strong interest in physical processes like screen printing, letterpress, bookbinding, and quilting. When it comes to collaborating, Cheryl prefers to look at the big picture and is skilled at building a prototype to figure out the right method forward. For Sarah, it’s all in the details; during the creation process, she often focuses on elements that need precision, like spatial design and printing and cutting. In Lot’sa you can see examples of the sister’s works, such as gorgeous quilted wall hangings of flowers.
Originally from Kansas City, Kansas, the sisters grew up near their grandmother Gladys who was a big sewer and quilter. Once a week, she would leave her farm and go into town to make quilts with her sewing circle. Her creativity and sense of design rubbed off on Cheryl and Sarah, and although they didn’t quilt growing up, every time they would visit Gladys’s farm, she would say, “Okay, what do you want to do? Here’s how you can do it.”
That creative problem-solving mindset, the sentiment of putting your knowledge and skills together to figure out how to make your ideas a reality, was officially instilled. Making became something that wasn’t just meant for the solo artist alone in their studio, but instead, something to gather, learn, and forge friendships around. For the sisters, there are so many more possibilities that emerge within the process of making together—there is power in the collective. As Cheryl explains, “Things that are unknown feel a little less scary when you have a partner to explore with.”
How do you take an idea in your head and transform it into a physical object? What will the process be for bringing a concept to life? These are the questions that excite Cheryl and Sarah. Although the final result is of course important, for them it’s less about producing for productivity’s sake and more about solving a problem. They want to figure out a process and share what they’ve learned with others, knowing they’ll learn more in return. For them, sharing and making together is its own learning tool; it’s a tool to build community, share ideas, and see something from a different perspective—one they would never have seen if they were creating alone.
Sarah explains that, no matter the skill level of a person, they always have insight to offer. During a zinemaking workshop, everyone was showing each other what they made, and Sarah couldn’t believe how different everyone’s zine was! Each person approached it so differently in ways she couldn’t have predicted, which just further inspired her to try new things in her own practice.
For both Cheryl and Sarah, there is no fear of competition or comparison; working closely with your sister—a space that for many can be full of sibling rivalry—is a testament to that. Instead, they invite people, artists and novices alike, in to approach making with a sense of curiosity and playfulness—the same approach they have when working on their own projects. They want someone to walk into Lot’sa, learn a new skill, and walk out with something they made with their hands, something they are proud of. Because, like your grandmother teaching you how to quilt, these skills are meant to be shared.