A refuge for art that is quietly optimistic about the future, from a designer who lost everything in a fire.

This carefully designed, stripped-back storefront on a sedate stretch of Stanton Street is minimal, even by gallery standards. Here, it’s all about respect for the details. You see more because there is less.
Imagine… Moody photographs that capture moments otherwise gone in a flash. Stained glass in glowing, organic shapes that, like lollipops, are sweet and shiny enough to lick. Pieces of metal, miniature paintings, and colored lights assembled into something barely related to the things they once were.
Artworks here don’t shout. Instead, they quietly invite you to notice the spaces in between that you might miss if you don’t clear away all the things that, ultimately, we never needed anyway.
Fairchild Fries, a visual designer known for minimal, quietly powerful branding, opened Abri Mars in 2024 after a fire destroyed his Little Italy apartment and everything in it. Abri means refuge in French. Mars means March. The founder's grandmother, mother, aunt, and uncle all share this birth month. The name is a quiet dedication to family and what remains when everything else is stripped (or taken) away.