You might think such extensive mash-ups could lead to art that overwhelms, but that’s hardly the case. April expertly balances colour and composition to create cohesive works that are surprisingly neat at first glance. Even upon close inspection, April’s layers of texture and pattern seamlessly merge and often surprise the eye.

In addition to offering us a look into her process and favourite things, April also shares how renowned UK textile artists helped her discover the power of simple stitches and inspired her to let go of her need for control. She explains how Constance Howard and others have taught her that self-expression doesn’t have to be complicated when it comes to stitchwork. And we think you’ll agree.

Apron strings

April Sproule: My earliest memory of making something with textiles is making an apron with my maternal grandmother, Grandma Ollie, when I was seven years old. She was a tiny woman who lived in a small house filled with things she had made. She loved to sew, knit and paint.

I remember carefully cutting out the apron on her kitchen table and sewing it on her portable Singer sewing machine. Her patience was infinite as she taught me those brand-new skills. I was amazed we had made something useful out of seemingly nothing with a scrap of fabric and some thread.

Around the same time my paternal grandmother, Grandma Petersen, began teaching me to do hand sewing and stitching. She taught me how to cut old clothing into squares using a cardboard template. Those hand-pieced squares would later become a quilt top. She also taught me hand embroidery and lace making.

I have very fond memories of being sequestered away in one of their homes on rainy winter days happily stitching away for hours. It’s no wonder sewing and stitching are now like breathing to me. They are something I have always done, and those basic skills would go through many transformations in years to follow. Back then, I had no idea how those early experiences would impact my life.

Textile artist inspiration

During high school, I participated in a work study programme that involved writing a business plan and starting my first little business. I set about making a variety of leather goods, clothing and bags to sell at local shops and galleries.

After learning the technical skills I badly needed, at the San Francisco School of Fashion Design, I worked for several different US and Canadian manufacturers. My area of expertise was new product development and production management for companies making leather goods, accessories and clothing. Since 2001, I’ve been a full-time studio artist working as both a designer and workshop facilitator.

In 2011, I developed a commercial collection of 25 stencil designs inspired by Japanese Katagami stencils for painting on fabric. I began using the stencils for all sorts of things while teaching my painting techniques to others. I started making upcycled clothing for myself and linen bags to sell with the stencils, and then I added hand stitching to them. The stencilling and hand stitching worked well together. Next came a collection of hand embroidery patterns and kits in 2015.

Shortly after that, I started seeing online images from UK textile artists who were doing amazing work using hand stitching. I was especially inspired by Mandy Pattullo, Claire Wellesley-Smith, Louise Baldwin, Cas Holmes and Aideen Canning. These incredible women not only eradicated the notion of creating perfect little stitches, but they used stitching in such an expressive and expansive manner. Theirs was a much freer and innovative style of hand stitch that appealed to me on many levels.

I admired those artists’ ability to move away from the expected and express their own unique, wild and wonderful styles.

It was as if a door had opened, and anything was possible on the other side of that threshold.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Freestyle stitching

My new norm became letting go of the need for control and embracing the idea of self-expression.

Upon further investigation, everything led back to the work and influence of Constance Howard. I pored over her books, and my entire perspective on hand stitching changed tremendously. I didn’t necessarily change the stitches I used, but I became mindful of how those stitches were used. One simple stitch could be used in 20 or more different variations.

When I developed my collection of hand embroidery patterns, I thought using lots of different complex or unusual stitches added more interest.

Constance Howard took a different approach. It was more about starting with one simple stitch and then tweaking it, contorting it, and reimagining all its possibilities.

Now as I go back and look through Constance’s books, I especially love seeing her illustrations. These days I see hand stitching as another form of mark making. And as I switch back and forth between pen and ink illustration and my hand stitching, each medium provides inspiration for the other.

I studied Constance Howard’s approach and realised the complexity of stitches wasn’t as important as I’d first thought.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Natural inspirations

I am inspired by many things, but my greatest inspiration comes from nature. Nature provides me with a never-ending treasure trove of ideas. It could be insects, botanical specimens or even diatoms and other microscopic images that pique my interest and beg me to take a closer look.

I live in an astonishingly diverse beautiful area in northern California. In just a few minutes, I can be exploring tide pools along our rugged coastline or trek deep into a Redwood forest where rays of sunlight pierce the thick canopy of branches and illuminate the areas below in a spectacular display.

Things that are in a state of erosion or decomposition are much more interesting than a perfect specimen. And surface design with textiles, pen and ink illustration, printmaking, collage, and watercolour are all mediums that supply me with lots of ideas and inspiration.

I’m interested in capturing the essence of my subject matter, rather than in replicating it in a photorealistic way.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Creative sketches

My work is developed in different ways, but it usually begins with a feeling or mood I want to convey. Early in the morning, I often work in a little handmade book where I experiment with different ways of combining paper, fabric and stitch in new and interesting ways that can lead to larger projects. 

Often my work begins with what I call a production sketch. It’s just a vague idea and a starting point, but it’s a very important step because it takes what only exists in my mind into the physical world where it becomes tangible.

Introducing colour

Next comes colour, which is one of the most valuable design elements. Colour is what first attracts or repels viewers to our work. I usually start with white fabric or pieces on which I’ve applied some sort of surface design techniques.

Scale, the overall finished size of the piece, comes next. Are the details going to be lost if a person sees it from a distance? Those choices inform all my decisions on which mediums to use.

I’ve learned to worked much more intuitively. All I need is one idea to get started. It could be the colour green and then everything develops from there.

Every piece I make takes me on a journey of learning and exploration.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Figuring things out

I feel incredibly fortunate because I rarely get really stuck on a piece and give up on it. I am good at problem solving and figuring things out. It seems like a waste of time, energy and materials to give up on a piece and not finish it.

When I start a new project that is very involved, I clean up my studio and put everything in its place. Initially clutter can be a distraction, but that’s only in the beginning. Once my ideas start to flow, it is total chaos. I don’t clean up until the project is completely done.

Mixing things up

I use a wide variety of mixed media on fabric and paper. I especially enjoy working with dyes, paints, stencilling, printing, pen and ink, cyanotypes, and hand or machine stitch. Learning to do all of these things has been so much fun!

I’ve done lots of shibori dyeing with Procion dyes and indigo over the years. It’s so exciting to unwrap the cloth and see what has happened. And now I have all those fabrics to choose from and add to my textile art.

Using paints and inks on fabric and paper has been a great addition to my work. I use textile paints that don’t alter the hand of the fabric, and I’m pretty picky about that. I also love using walnut ink, sumi ink and India inks. Sometimes I just sit and draw stripes or dots with a pen or brush. Then it’s fun finding new ways to incorporate those pieces into my work.

I am also experimenting a lot with different papers. I won’t use papers that are either too delicate or too hard to stitch through. I still have a lot to learn about different types of paper, but that’s part of the research and excitement of learning something new.

Favourite fabrics

My absolute favourite fabrics to work with are linen, cotton sateen and silk. I use both vintage and new fabrics, but many of the vintage fabrics are just wonderful to work with. The linen is like butter to stitch through, and I love the texture of it. 

My next favourite fabric is cotton sateen, as the weave gives it a subtle sheen. It has a very nice hand, dyes beautifully and it is really easy to stitch through. And silk has long been a favourite of mine. I don’t ever use fusibles on it, as that would ruin the hand of the fabric. I have lots of silk left over from having a custom sewing business for 10 years. Now, I’m glad I saved all those fabrics.

Threads & stitches

For threads, I mostly use DMC cotton along with some hand-dyed threads. I‘d like to try linen thread but haven’t yet. My favourite stitches are the running stitch, stem stitch, straight stitches, rice stitch, couching, and the versatile blanket stitch. I also like the cretan stitch a lot, because it can be used in lots of different ways.

I took Sue Stone’s Exploring Texture and Pattern course in 2018. After finishing all the exercises, my style of stitching changed from using more complex decorative stitches to using very basic stitches in different forms and combinations.

My needle has become like my pen, and my hand stitching is now another form of mark making.

April Sproule, Textile artist

A few basic tools

I enjoy using good quality tools that last a long time, so I don’t have to replace them.

Really sharp scissors are very important. I have embroidery scissors, appliqué scissors, regular scissors, paper scissors and huge shears for cutting heavy fabrics. But mostly I just need a sharp little pair of embroidery scissors for cutting threads.

Fabric markers are also important. I use Frixion markers and have never had a problem with them. I like that I get nice clean lines with them. And of course, good needles make everything so much easier. I use mostly size 10 embroidery needles with a nice sharp point.

One of the greatest things about hand embroidery is you only need a few basic tools.

I do almost all of my actual stitching at night. I use a large floor model OttLite, and I could not sew without it. I usually do hand stitching for three hours or so every night. It’s become a daily practice I really enjoy.

My iPad is my favourite design tool. I use an app called Adobe Fresco for my illustrations. I start a piece, photograph it, and then draw mock up stitches on the photo to help with design options and decisions. I can add 10 layers of stitching, eliminate what I don’t like, AirDrop the image to my phone, and use it for reference as I stitch. It’s just like magic!

I think one of the best things you can do as an artist is try things outside of your comfort zone.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Silver linings

The biggest challenges I’ve faced as a professional artist were Covid related. From 2001-20, I operated a longarm quilting business, sold my wares online and as a vendor at shows, and I taught workshops on techniques I’d developed over the years. 2019 was an especially busy year for me. Then Covid reared its ugly head, and every single upcoming event I had scheduled was cancelled.

I decided to make the most of this unexpected free time by focusing on my art and volunteering for different textile art groups who support artists and textile art instructors. That gift of time gave me a chance to re-evaluate what I was doing and make some positive changes.

I closed my longarm quilting business and decided to stop vending at shows and started applying for grants. In 2019, I received a grant from a local arts foundation, and in 2020, I received a business grant from the state. Collectively, those funds made it possible for me to gain the technical training and equipment I needed to start teaching online.

I aim to spend half my time working and the other half creating art. I’m not there yet, but I will be some day. It’s also much easier to share what I do with others and help others achieve their creative goals.

I’ve found that pushing myself helps to grow my skills and proficiency.

My biggest artistic challenge was making the portraits in Sue Stone’s Stitch Your Story online course. I knew what a fabulous teacher Sue was, and it was really hard, but I learned so much along the way. I was really inspired by the work of the others in the course.

Designing my creative space

After leasing a commercial building for five years for my business and studio, I finally had a studio built behind my house in 2006. I needed room for my 14ft longarm quilting machine, space to teach my surface design workshops and a workspace for me to create my textile art.

I had lots of experience designing textile art projects, but designing a building was an entirely different experience. Luckily, I found a great designer and very good contractors to work with me.

The 24ft x 40ft (7.3m x 21.1m) two-story structure has nice high ceilings. Downstairs is my wet studio where I do my messy stuff like dyeing and fabric painting. I included a 6ft-wide stainless steel sink from a place that carried used restaurant equipment, and it has been a useful addition. There’s also lots of storage for art supplies and other stuff.

Upstairs is one large room where I sectioned off a full bathroom and walk-in closet. The kitchen area has cabinets that hold art supplies, and it was designed to accommodate appliances, but I would rather have the space.

One of my requests was to have lots of natural light. But I also needed wall space for art display and a large design wall. The designer was able to plan accordingly, so I have windows on three sides and plenty of wall space in between.

I had a 4ft x 8ft cutting table built with storage cabinets and shelving below. I knew my needs for this space would change over the years, so one of the best things I did was to outfit all my heavy equipment, like the cutting table and longarm machine, with heavy duty casters so I can easily move things around by myself. That has been a tremendous help.

The building is quite tall due to the high ceilings on each level, so I had a manual dumb waiter added to transport heavy items, like sewing machines, up to the second floor. We’ve had lots of great workshops and retreats here, and that dumb waiter has gotten a lot of use over the years.

Every morning I wake up really early, grab a strong cup of coffee, and head over to the studio. When time permits, I sit and draw for an hour in front of my big window before I start my day. I’m grateful for every moment I spend here. My family has always been very supportive of what I do, and none of this would’ve been possible without them.

But Wendy Dolan pushes graphic dimension even further by adding print, paint and three-dimensional mediums to her layered fabrics. Stucco walls, mossy trees and crushed stones stand proud in fascinating fashion. Heavy stitching by hand and machine add further depth and movement. 

Wendy is offering a look into her techniques and favourite materials, including heat-activated ‘puffing’ media. You’ll also learn how tissue paper and packaging materials can create incredible textures.

Enjoy exploring Wendy’s world where surface treatment is literally taken to new heights.

A map of London

My earliest memories of creating with fabrics was making clothes for my dolls when I was eight or nine years old. My mother always knitted and made clothes for the family, so I started to also make garments for myself. 

I created my first embroidered work when I was 11. There was a small wool and haberdashery shop in the village that sold iron-on transfers. We purchased a design depicting a map of London and various UK emblems. That project started my lifetime love of stitch and textiles, and I still have the finished piece. A family friend noticed my interest in stitching and taught me many traditional hand embroidery techniques. 

Discovering textile techniques

While studying at school for my A level, the new art teacher encouraged me to take embroidery for one of the papers. She was so supportive, taking me to London to see embroidery exhibitions while helping me develop my design work in school. I shall always be grateful for her help and encouragement.

Having decided to pursue a career in teaching, I chose a BEd course which offered Art and Textiles as a core subject. That opened a whole new world of textile techniques, including freehand machine embroidery, fabric painting, printing, machine knitting and weaving. 

I soon realised I could achieve exciting textures and effects by combining a wide range of approaches, and I haven’t looked back since!

Places, maps & journeys

My inspiration comes from a variety of sources, including architecture, the landscape, still life, and maps and journeys.

I use my camera to capture images, and I record my ideas in a sketchbook. I combine pen and ink, watercolour and torn paper collage to develop my ideas and designs. I also create a torn paper collage for my colour scheme that I can use as a reference for printing and painting.

I begin a piece by exploring the design element, then experimenting with different materials. 

When I’ve finalised the proportions, I select and layer my fabrics to build up the design. I choose fabrics with contrasting textures and tones and tear them to add interest to the surface. If my design is architectural, I first transfer the image onto tracing paper, so I can see where I’m placing the fabrics.

I machine stitch the layers down using cotton thread, and then I add hand stitching and three-dimensional media if it’s appropriate. 

Once my surface design is prepared, I apply colour by painting and printing. Hand and machine stitch allow me to work further into the piece, making marks and textures with coloured thread. Sometimes I work intuitively and use the texture of a particular fabric to develop an idea. 

“Very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results.”

Wendy Dolan, Textile artist

Inked textures

The pigments I use are screen printing inks. I prefer the brand Sericol and have been using it for more than 45 years. I was introduced to Sericol pigments during my degree course, and I find them extremely versatile. They have a thick consistency that can be used for block printing, stenciling, mono printing, screen printing and applying with a palette knife.

The thickness of the inks gives me greater control when I apply them to my built-up designs. But because they are water-based, they can also be diluted with water and applied with a brush to create water colour effects. 

When working with the inks, I usually plan the process and have a good idea of the outcome. But I always keep an open mind and I’m happy to redirect my thoughts as I progress. It’s an exciting way to work, as very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results. 

Tools of the trade

I use a ceramic tile and a palette knife to mix my inks. For printing and mark making on fabric, I use a variety of wooden printing blocks, handmade printing blocks, sponges and stencils. I’ll also sometimes use household items such as packaging, bubble wrap and corrugated card. 

I apply colour using a sponge and lightly dab the block’s surface. Then I place the fabric on top of a padded surface to produce clear results when printing. A piece of thin foam or some newspaper is sufficient.

I make sure my fabrics are pre-washed to remove any dressing before creating any design. Some fabrics may soak up more colour than others, so I also always experiment with colour application before constructing a piece.

When I apply colour with a brush, I find it is easier to spray the surface lightly with water first. Printing is added after I’m done painting.

Adding dimension

I enjoy working with Xpandaprint (also sold as Expandit) to create texture and dimension. It’s a thick non-toxic medium that can be applied with a brush, roller or sponge. It expands when heated and then can be painted. I often use it to represent textured surfaces, such as crumbly walls, moss and lichen. 

Occasionally, I use modelling paste. I apply it thinly with a sponge or through a stencil. It creates interesting resist effects when painted. 

Incorporating tissue paper can also create interesting surface textures. I scrunch the paper in my hands and then tear it into small pieces. Then, I fuse the crumpled paper to fabric using Bondaweb or similar iron-on fusible. Finally, I paint the surface for further effect. 

I used this technique to create a crumbling wall texture in Kilpeck Church, adding cotton scrim for additional texture.

A variety of foam and Tyvek packaging can be useful; I distort them with heat to create exciting effects. For this, I always wear a mask and work outside or in a well-ventilated space, as some of those materials may give off fumes.

Fabric choices

I prefer using natural fabrics in my art. Calico is my preferred base fabric, and then I’ll select a wide variety of cottons, silks, linens, muslins, scrims, lace and trimmings. 

I source most of my fabrics from Whaleys Bradford Ltd., but I also try to use vintage and recycled fabrics whenever I can. Searching charity shops and markets often yields some interesting finds. 

I always use freehand machine stitching to attach my initial layers of fabric. I prefer to use a short stitch length which looks more like a sketchy line. When building up the design, I use my machine like a pencil to create line, form and areas of stitched texture. Madeira 40 rayon thread is my favourite. 

Mark making threads

Even though I print and paint on my fabrics, they remain surprisingly soft once I set the inks with an iron. Stitching is rarely a problem, but I’m always aware of how many layers of fabric will move freely beneath the darning foot. 

I use hand stitching to produce isolated marks. I like to use a variety of thread weights depending on the effect I want to create. I have a wide selection from which to choose, including cotton perlé, fine wools, stranded cotton and silk yarns. 

For hand stitching I prefer simple stitches, such as seeding, random cross stitch, running and couching. But I mostly stitch for the best effect rather than concentrating on specific stitches. 

London on the map

My series called A Sense of Place is inspired by places and my journeys. London on the Map incorporates iconic buildings and structures in London. The fabric map depicts central London with the River Thames running through. 

Working with my inkjet printer, I first treated the fabric with a BubbleJet 2000 solution. Once dry, I ironed it onto freezer paper and then passed it through the printer. 

I used a smooth cotton fabric and placed masking tape over the top edge of the fabric to help it feed smoothly. Keeping the fabrics neutral allowed the colour to come from the map and the applied stitching. The images are stitched with freehand machine embroidery. 

Across the Downs

Living in Sussex close to the South Downs, I find the rolling hills an ideal source of inspiration. Field poppies are often in abundance on the chalk downlands where they create stunning natural displays. I find the contrasting colours within the landscapes very alluring.

In Across the Downs, I layered and stitched natural fabrics before painting them with water-based inks. Normally, when I use my sketchbook to experiment with different colour combinations, the design can become quite abstract. But for this design, I chose to use a more representational colour palette.

The clouds were created by fusing pieces of horticultural fleece onto my white background. That created a resist effect when I painted on top. I sponged colour across the skyline to add a soft, atmospheric backdrop. Then I stitched into the piece to create the trees and introduce texture and depth. 

Royal Pavilion

Architecture has always interested me, and I’m constantly taking photos of doors, windows, carvings and crumbly textured surfaces. 

The Royal Pavilion in Brighton is especially fascinating because of its eclectic style. The juxtaposition of domes, scalloped arches and intricate stucco work makes it a wonderful resource for exploring patterns and form. 

In Royal Pavilion Brighton, I pieced, layered and stitched down calico, cotton silk noil and linen fabrics to create a balance of shapes, texture and tone. Additional surface texture was added using Xpandaprint. 

I applied paint and then stitched the outline of the pavilion with dark blue thread. For architectural designs, I tend to trace the image onto Stitch ‘n Tear stabiliser and then stitch from the reverse side with dark thread. 

Stitch club workshop

My Stitch Club workshop connects with my love of architecture. Members create a doorway scene that starts with layers of fabric. A paper collage is used to formulate the colour scheme, before they paint the background and stitch the design. Because they’ll be working with a variety of fabrics, interesting effects can be created.

They will also learn a unique reverse stitch transfer method that avoids the use of fabric markers. 

I’m eager for members to have fun, learn some new skills, and experiment with layering, painting and stitching techniques. I’m especially hopeful they’ll find the techniques useful in developing their own creative journeys. 

Cheryl is inspired by the natural world, colour, light and her emotional well-being. She spends hours crafting the collage materials for her art quilts and textile pieces. 

There’s no roadmap and no rules or fixed ideas about colour, subject or form. She works by instinct, letting go of expectations and following where the work leads. The best ideas arise from process, she says. 

For Cheryl, it’s the act of creating – the spontaneous dance of colour and line – that fuels her. Through this intuitive process, she channels love, loss and connection, transforming deeply personal moments into something universal.

Cheryl Rezendes: I am a fine artist; textiles just happen to be the canvas that I paint on. Machine and hand stitching are my pencil and pens. Thread is the ink and graphite.

I am inspired by the natural world. My large studio is situated in my garden. It’s filled with natural light giving me a view of the gardens and the woods. I’m surrounded by 40 acres of woodland.

I have lived here for almost 35 years and I’m still enthralled by all that I see and hear. It’s a place of refuge as well as a place of creativity. However, a trip to the city offers a vast array of visual inspiration as well. 

“There is always so much to see and absorb in whatever world I am walking through.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

Being inspired

I am always inspired by the work of any artist, be it textile, painting or even pottery. It is all fodder for my creative self and making new work. 

Recently, my partner and I have started painting together. He is a potter and graphic designer. We work on large pieces of paper that measure approximately 150cm x 100cm (60″ x 40″). We paint and make marks very differently from each other. Just watching what he does, how he does it and how we bring both our skills together is incredibly inspiring.

I might help inspiration along by giving myself a challenge, such as to photograph all the lines that I see. It is amazing what can become a line if you are looking for them: a railing, the side of a building, a stacked pile of sticks and the edge of my dog’s kibble, to name but a few.

Creating my materials

I create my own collage materials. Usually I start by painting large pieces of white fabric using direct painting methods. But I might also stamp and stencil my own designs on to the fabric. 

I’ll also draw on the cloth and create monoprints. This is done without any intention of what they will look like or be used for. 

Sometimes I’ll digitally print one of my photographs onto cloth using my wide format Epsom printer. 

The pieces of fabric that I create in these ways will often coordinate or speak to each other – a visual conversation, if you will. I get inspired to use them together. These images are fused and/or stitched into the larger piece. As I work, I will be constantly hanging these pieces up on my design wall.  

“By viewing my work on a design wall, I’m auditioning them together, as well as getting inspired by the cloth and the work process itself.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

“My process for creating art is intuitive and based on discovery.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Call & response

I don’t have a favourite colour palette that I return to again and again. Instead, I use colours that, for whatever reason, speak to me at any given time. 

I then follow the piece along: asking what is needed from a design standpoint and then responding. I teach these concepts in my Stitch Club workshop. 

Because of the way that I create my textiles, my work is visually very painterly. Sometimes the finished pieces are statements of beauty and elegance, and at other times they are filled with raw emotion.

“I often don’t know what the pieces are about until they are finished.” 

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Finding meaning

The collection I made on care-giving was created that way.  It featured fifteen art quilts that were inspired by the eight years I spent as care-giver for my mother who had Alzheimer’s Disease and for my late husband who had Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. 

During those years I seemed to be drawn to dark colours, particularly brown, black and grey. Even as abstract pieces, the work seemed very emotional. They weren’t pretty. They were dark. 

At some point in the process of making those pieces I started to ask myself, “Okay. What are all these about, anyway?” 

I showed them to fellow artists to get their take. The resounding answer was that this collection of work was particularly sad and spoke to the anguish and grief I was feeling. Then the titles were born.

Coincidently, or not, when the show was completed my grieving process for the loss of those two people whom I had loved was completed as well.

Teaching intuitively

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share my process for creating intuitively. I highlight creating monoprints on cloth then used hand stitching as both a design and drawing tool. I introduce some collage work as well.  

My hope is that students come away with the skills to create monoprints and hand stitching but also that they understand that they can have a personal and unique visual voice. 

The inherent combination of spontaneity and discovery in the creation of one-of-a-kind prints lends itself well to this concept.

Cultivating curiosity

I encourage you to be open to the creating process, particularly self-discovery and the spontaneous.

Try to see what is happening in front of you rather than always seeing what you haven’t done. Often our intention doesn’t come through, but what we have actually created can be, and usually is, better! 

Imagine you are seeing the world for the first time. Drive or walk down your road and imagine what it would look like to someone who has never travelled that route before. You’ll find things you never saw.

Experiment with new supplies and different processes rather than just staying with what you’re already comfortable with. 

I may be formally trained but as a consequence, I have to work really hard at putting that training aside so I can be in discovery mode. Sometimes I’ll paint and draw with my non-dominant hand or cut collage pieces randomly. 

“I’ll do anything that helps me embrace discovery again.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Nurturing creativity

I had the great fortune of growing up with parents who supported my creative spirit from an early age. 

They provided me with sketchbooks, paint and composition books. My mother had an interior design business, so I was exposed to beautiful fabrics, wallpaper and design books.

We lived just a two-hour train ride from New York City so we regularly visited the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim. That early exposure to the work of contemporary artists was a spring board for me becoming a professional artist. 

Learning to see

In my late teens, I went to The School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, MA where I studied painting and drawing for four years. As an artist, this was the most influential time in my life. 

At the time I attended, the school was a department of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. This enabled me to have free access to the museum whenever I wanted and I was able to spend as much time with any given painting that I happened to be inspired by. I was also part of a course that allowed students to choose a painting from the museum’s archives that we wanted to study. 

The artwork would be delivered to a special classroom located on the top floor of the museum where I could make copies either by painting or drawing. That experience taught me an array of important skills that I would later use to observe and truly see the work of other artists and the world around me.

Supporting textiles

My mother exposed me to beautiful textiles as a child. She also taught me how to sew. 

After art school I made my living as a stitcher while doing my artwork in the evenings. I quickly became very skilled. I worked for a designer making elegant evening wear. I made costumes for a shop that supplied musical and theatrical events and I also created costumes for live action 3D animations. 

Later, after moving to western Massachusetts and while raising my boys, I made custom wedding gowns using antique textiles and lace. I continued to paint, draw and do collage work and was represented by a few galleries. 

At some point I became familiar with digital printing on cloth. I became intrigued with printing images of my paintings and collages on cloth. I couldn’t help but use those to collage as well. 

My work continued to grow and, in 2013, my book Fabric Surface Design (Workman Publishing) was published. It features over 80 techniques for putting imagery on fabric using textile paints. 

“Life has presented many challenges to me, but I’ve painted and drawn my way through them, even if I could only work in my sketchbook.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

Her art is a visual journal of her life, capturing moments, processing memory and embracing imperfection. 

Ailish is influenced by the philosophy behind Kintsugi – the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold to highlight its history. And rather than aiming for a polished final piece, Ailish explores how the act of creation can enable transformation and ‘mending’ to take place.

Her multi-disciplinary work is deeply intimate. By using personal objects and memorabilia in her work, she ensures her portraits are not simply representations. They also offer a tangible connection to the people and stories they portray.

Ailish Henderson: I make sense of the world and my own experience through a juxtaposition of the written word and visual, artistic methods. 

I am finally coming to terms with what ‘artistic practice’ means for me. It’s not always a finished painting or an embroidery – it’s the story of me. Art is my life rather than about a place or a setting.

“I need to have a story or an experience in order to create.”

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Celebrating flaws

My work is heart driven. It’s made with the Japanese art of Kintsugi in mind. Kintsugi literally means ‘golden repair’. Instead of throwing away broken pottery, a precious metal like gold or silver is used to repair and enhance the broken pieces. 

Having been exposed to a pattern of traumatic events from childhood through to adulthood, I realised I needed to find a way of making sense of big questions and issues. This led to my study of the concept of ‘repair’ and investigating how we can potentially present our emotional repair in a textile conversation.

In Kintsugi, flaws are celebrated rather than trying to make a broken thing perfect. This idea has become an inspiration to me. I’m analysing what this practice can mean within the sphere of emotional repair. 

I also find that it’s soothing to see something come into existence via my hands. It’s not a final repair or cure but a ‘mending’ which keeps me going. 

Exploring these concepts either openly or discreetly through my teaching and writing practice is now my life’s work. This way, my audience can connect with this form of ‘mending’ too. 

“I’m inspired by a memory, a life experience or even a scar.”

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Inspired by life

My art is my visual diary. I am honest in my practice – what you see is what you get.  I’ve always had a reputation for wearing my heart on my sleeve. I tell my story with all of its emotion as well as the narrative line. 

Unhappy occasions provide as much artistic fuel as happy ones. In fact, sometimes more so. I’ve also used written pieces of prose to inspire imagery. I draw from these sources, creating a simple vignette, which gradually forms a retold narrative using textiles. 

I explore how those stories can become tactile.

The self-portrait Pistachio Smiles was inspired by a lone break in Paris. It’s stitched on a base of Irish linen (from my homeland) and created with many sentimental precious materials, such as my own clothing. The marriage of its inspiration and the hand embroidered fibres make it literally part of me. 

Alternatively, I might find an old photograph that triggers ideas. It intrigues me how the viewer simply sees the image for what it is, while I hold the unique knowledge or key behind the photograph. I love using that knowledge to extend the narrative into a stitched piece.

Drawing with a needle

Once I have my inspiration, my fabric becomes my canvas. The type of work I am doing influences my process, but for my self-portraits I sketch out the basics with pencil on the fabric.

I love working in a sketchbook. I like to make my own by stringing together odd leaves of paper or other memorabilia to work as paper. Each one is unique and my sketchbook might become the artwork itself. 

I might paint certain areas of the self-portrait. I’ll use watercolour or gouache paints as well as fabric dye. I am not precious about the type of paints I use as my self-portraits are not designed to be machine washed. 

I use a lot of drawing, collage, mixed media and paint. 

I appreciate the honesty hand stitching provides. My hand work doesn’t have to be intricate, and at times, it may be primitive. Yet I’m guiding its tension and I’m in control.

Although I adore my free machine embroidery foot, hand embroidery will always be my first love and I don’t do much machine stitch.

“My needle is my pen, whether I am stitching by hand or machine.” 

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Materials that matter

If I’m making a collage piece, I gather my inspiration and the materials I want to use. I have many large, lidded clear boxes filled with personal memorabilia that I treasure. By using these boxes, it’s easy to see what is inside.  

The memorabilia is usually directly connected with the imagery. For example, it may be a scan of a letter from a loved one, or some lace that they’ve given me. I use it all, even receipts from travel experiences or the odd chocolate packet. Thankfully, I have a large studio to house all of this ‘use one day’ fuel. 

I’ve always used materials which mattered. I find it hard to function creatively with synthetic fabrics. I love quality, so I’m naturally drawn to cotton, silk and wool. This is easily done in a sustainable way. I collect vintage items that no one else wants.

All the bits I want to use are collected, chopped and stitched on the fabric to form the portrait. However, as I work in a variety of mediums, this is just one way I develop my pieces.

Inspiring Stitch Club

Although I’ve long been known for my stitched collage portraits, creating my Stitch Club workshop, about capturing the essence of a person through stitch, was the start of a shift in direction. I’ve begun to investigate my own ancestry and think about where I fit in this life. 

These are big questions when we are talking about an artistic context. I’ve started to present my own background in greater depth and explore how it could be translated to others. 

I examine two lines of thought in my Stitch Club project. 

One is about looking at a family member whom we might not know well. For example, my dad’s family died before I was born. When I look at my dad’s family photographs, although I know them and feel connected with them, it’s not an emotional connection. This sparked my interest. How can we depict someone we do not know? 

Then, I looked at my mother’s mother – I used to stick to her like glue! She died recently, aged 99, so her loss feels very direct. Although in this instance I can create with knowledge, I wanted to challenge myself to think around this. How could I create art by looking at her qualities and the things she owned rather than simply representing her image?

Of course, in the workshop Stitch Club members will dive into their own personal adaptations. Their feedback will add to my own ongoing narrative projects. 

“We all can learn and be nourished by each other.”  

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Early inspiration

I was born in Northern Ireland at the height of the Northern Ireland Conflict (the Troubles). We moved back to the UK when I was quite young, so my family could offer full-time support to my mother’s parents. I was home-schooled until I reached sixteen and my focus shifted to the arts. 

Art has always been an integral part of my being. I didn’t aspire to become an artist. I just was. There was never that moment some have experienced when they feel they have gone from being an amateur crafter to being an artist.

I was always encouraged to be creative as a child. My Scottish grandmother on my father’s side was a painter, and on my mother’s side there were clear links to dressmaking and textiles.

My mother made her own clothes with Liberty print fabric which has since become the brainchild behind my digitally printed fabric collection called You Gave Me Liberty. 

She was forever trying to get a needle in my hand but I was a determined character and avidly rebelled. In fact, I didn’t pick up a needle until I went to college to study fine art.

In my early years, I was definitely inclined toward fine art. Every trip or holiday was filled with sketching time. Over the years, I accumulated a lot of sketchbooks and paintings, which I honestly thought would simply be stored away for sentimental value.

However, I always felt there was something missing. One day a textiles tutor happened to be covering my fine art class. From that moment I was hooked.

Discovering textiles

I had always thought of textiles as a patience-driven craft. Yet my tutor Julia Triston’s subtle vision sparked something inside of me. She showed me techniques that included fabric but were less taxing on the embroidery side. She revealed what textiles could be, and her patience and insight are something for which I will be ever thankful.

When I discovered textiles in college, I suddenly looked at fine art with new eyes. How could I translate my sketchbook and painting skills into a tactile form? So my textile methods reflect that ‘from-sketch-to-stitch’ concept.

My early practice revolved around utilising techniques with as little stitch precision as possible. I worked intuitively and creatively using my fine art brain. I have to confess I even used a glue gun at times when I didn’t know how to stitch a certain way. As I became more proficient, my work naturally changed.

Developing skills

When I left college after first studying fine art and then textiles, I felt lost. I remember panicking. Where would I go from here?

I ended up doing my City & Guilds Level 3 with Julia Triston and Tracy Franklin at their Stitchbusiness classes in Durham, which was a brilliant learning curve. I learned many textile and art-related skills, some of which I now teach.

After this training, I felt stronger and more focused. I knew deep within myself that textile art was something I had to pursue. I just had to make it work.

I began getting myself involved in teaching and lecturing to groups, such as branches of The Embroiderers’ Guild. The Knit and Stitch Show also took me on to provide classes, which opened up my work vision further.

I decided I wanted to continue learning and feeding myself with current and contemporary practices to open up my own practice, so I began studying for a BA in Textiles. 

Although I entered university level education later than most, my reputation earned through my own practice and teaching worked in tandem with my course. Teaching and other ways of working can potentially contribute to your creative vision.

“If you are an aspiring textile artist, I’d encourage you to think outside of the normal ‘job’ options.” 

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Follow your heart

During my degree studies, I was pushed to take more risks in my artistic practice. However, by the time I began my degree, I already knew who I was as an artist – so I found this mentally taxing. 

The work I loved most from my time studying is my stitched collage portrait narrative work. This work got the fewest marks, yet funnily enough it has been my most successful work outside of my degree.

“Be open to change and renewal, but always enjoy what you do – creating should never be a trial.”  

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Pass it on

I’d encourage you to always make with your heart. Art without heart lacks magic. Let the inspiration and the creation light you up. If it doesn’t, leave it.

Use materials you have a connection with. For example, memorabilia, letters, photos and passed down textile materials such as lace, old tablecloths or suchlike.

Don’t be afraid to use what’s precious. These treasured things will only die with you, so use it now and give it a new life. You never know, that cherished napkin you kept so carefully in a drawer may end up on a gallery wall someday.  

Coming home to myself

For many years, there was a period when I was teaching, writing and, I have to admit it, working off the back of my previous artworks, without feeling any need to make more. I hated this time and I felt as if I’d lost my way. 

I came to realise that my art is more than another stitched collage portrait, it is in everything I do. 

I am never without a pen or pencil in my hand. I write poems or I sketch odd little things just to make me happy. I write articles about art and I review other people’s art. In other words, I began to realise that I am an artist, I had just missed the point of what the term could be.

The last few years have been filled with exhibitions, losing my cherished grandmother, and all the noise that comes from writing and publishing a book. Currently I am working on some new teaching projects, as well as developing ideas for a second book. 

Importantly, I am taking time to contemplate on what my narrative future might be.

Largely self-taught, Pat masterfully reduces her subjects to their necessary elements in ways that still tell big stories. She isn’t focused on the details, and that’s a good thing. Her use of strong shapes, colour and pattern lead to incredible fabric mashups that communicate rich shadows and textures. 

Pat is generously sharing her appliqué and fusing techniques that serve as the foundation for her quilts. You’ll be surprised at the variety of fabrics and other materials she uses. As long as something doesn’t melt under her trusty iron, it’s a worthy candidate.

She explains about her method for using watercolour on fabric, as well as offering her refreshing takes on planning and imperfection.

Welcome to Pat’s world of simple abstracted beauty.

A path to self-discovery

Pat Baum Bishop: I remember drawing simple images on white fabric with a pencil and then stitching them with embroidery floss. Other embroidery projects included pillowcases and a tablecloth. I also did many crewel work pieces and counted cross stitch projects.

I begged my mother to teach me to use her sewing machine when I was 10 and started to make my own clothing.

When my children were young, I spent many years making traditional quilts. I eventually moved on to art quilting and experimenting with fabric manipulation.

Although I am mostly a self-taught artist, numerous teachers and many workshops have helped me along the way. 

Laura Cater-Woods was inspirational for two reasons. Somehow, she got me to vocalise my lifelong desire to be an artist at the age of 50. Once I said it out loud, it seemed to materialise. 

She also instilled in me the motto ‘do what you know, and the rest will follow’. When I was overwhelmed by too many choices, she’d say: ‘Do what you know how to do right now, and after that, you’ll figure out the next step’.

Yvonne Porcella was the first to teach me how to abstract an image. And Sue Benner also taught me different methods for creating abstract art. 

Simple abstraction

I work mostly with textiles, though I love to paint with acrylics and watercolours on paper and fabric. My love of abstraction steers my work, and my approach to abstraction is largely through simplification. 

Much of my work is about preserving memories. 

Lately I’ve been painting my backgrounds using watered down acrylic paint on white whole cloth fabric. I really like gradated fabric for my backgrounds, but they’re hard to find. Painting my own is even better. And it’s a very intuitive process.

During the pandemic, I took an online abstract painting class with UK instructor Louise Fletcher, cohost of the podcast Art Juice. Her class gave me confidence to play with paint, and I love it.

While most of my work is abstract, I also enjoy creating more representational work through watercolour painting on white whole cloth fabric with added machine quilting. 

“Almost all my pieces have a very special meaning to me – I wouldn’t be able to do them successfully otherwise.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

Creative process

I usually start a work with a personal photo. I sometimes use an app that converts photos into watercolour style images, called Waterlogue, which helps me see my images in a simplified view. 

If I’m creating a bird or animal, some research is also involved to familiarise myself with the subject. 

Starting with the photo, I see how it looks in Waterlogue. I make a very small value study, usually a Post-It note size. That study helps me determine how to work with my light, medium and dark tones. 

I simplify my image, but I still don’t have everything laid out at this stage. The most planning I do is what my finished size will be, depending on if it will be bound or framed. 

“I’m not one who has everything worked out ahead of time – I enjoy finding happy accidents and problem solving.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist 

I work on my subject first, using a full-size cartoon that is fused to parchment paper. I always take into consideration the elements of design and composition. 

After the subject is complete, I audition backgrounds by laying the fused cartoon on top of my backgrounds to see what does and doesn’t work. Once I choose the right background, I quilt it before fusing the subject on top of it. 

After fusing the subject, I machine quilt it down and add any other thread painting it needs. 

“My work is not perfect, and I really don’t want it to be.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

The value of imperfection

All my work is machine quilted on a sit-down Capri Handi Quilter with an 18″ throat. I don’t use a stitch regulator or rulers.

My style is somewhat cubist, and all my cuts are choppy. If I’m making any rounded cuts with my scissors, that’s a clue to myself that I’m trying too hard and it’s just not me.

Despite my quilts not being perfectly quilted, people seem to think they’re well done. I can find the flaws, but they’re not noticeable to the casual observer.

I truly believe my work is more relatable because it’s not perfect. Perfection is overrated. My work is more from the heart, if that makes sense. 

A bit of advice I was given was you need to make a few ‘sacrificial’ quilts. It takes practice to get good at anything, so I made several practice quilts. You can always donate them or make them for animal shelters.

It’s also good to take breaks every 30 minutes when machine quilting.

Fabrics galore

My list of potential fabric choices is long. I’ve used many different, and sometimes surprising, materials, including recycled clothing, silk, linen, damask, velveteen, denim, paper bags, men’s ties, old silk kimonos, paper towels. 

As long as materials don’t melt under my iron or shred under my needle, they’re good possibilities.

I love using silk for added texture and interest, though it should mostly read as a solid colour. And my stock of hand-dyed fabrics is fairly bottomless. 

I’m also an avid thrifter, though I do buy some commercial fabrics.

My fabrics are organised by colour in bookcases with sliding glass doors. Bins hold a good supply of pre-fused fabrics that are also organised by colour. 

“When it comes to choosing fabrics, if it can be ironed and fused, it works.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

An old red barn

Red Barn looks very much like the one on my grandparents’ farm. I have so many wonderful memories of playing on the farm. Sadly, it’s no longer standing after being gobbled up by urban sprawl. 

The main fabric on the light side of the barn is monoprinted. I don’t have any real plan when dyeing or printing fabric other than having fun and using colours I like. I haven’t dyed fabric for several years now, because I have so much from when I was dyeing more regularly. I dye in the summer when it can be done outside in our garage. That way it can dry in the heat of the sun.

Environmental warning

Harbinger was inspired by my love of birds, but also by my worries about saving the planet. I wanted to send a message of ‘beware and be aware’ of how you live your life, as it all matters and has consequences for the earth. I felt the raven was an appropriate harbinger to send that message.

The background is hand painted in acrylics with an ominous tone. Although the raven looks mostly black, it’s actually made with many different textures of black, dark navy silk, velveteen, wovens and more.

“There’s a saying ‘colour gets all the credit, but value does all the work’ – I kind of live by that rule or at least try to.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

Contrast is more important than colour, and that is more my focus. I use colours I love and then contrast them by using light or bright against dark values. Everyone has their favorite colours. Mine are blue, especially turquoise, and there’s a lot of green in my work. 

Also, when working with textiles, it’s important to take advantage of their textures – that’s a bonus you don’t see so much in other art forms. Working with fabrics that all have the same texture, or the same line of fabric, can be very boring. I suggest using a variety of textures and a range of values in fabric choices. 

Watercolour on fabric

I painted watercolours on paper in the distant past, but within the last five years, I started up again using fabric. I had seen similar work by textile artist Donna Deaver and loved the watercolour effect.

Ford Abandoned was inspired by a photo of an old Ford truck that’s been sitting up north near our cabin. I had always wanted to do something with the image, and this was my first attempt. I’ve done many more since.

Andrew Wyeth is my favourite watercolour artist. I love the moodiness of his painting, and his settings are often farm-like. His paintings speak to me.

For my watercolour process, I draw the outline and details with pencil on tightly woven white fabric. Then I make a quilt sandwich with a backing, batting and the white fabric on top, drawn side up. I free-motion stitch the pencil drawing with black thread, not perfectly of course. 

I apply a combination of watercolour paints, water and clear aloe vera gel to paint selected areas. The aloe vera gel keeps the paint and water from creeping where it doesn’t belong. The piece is then finished with additional quilting in the open large expanses.

Watercolours often have a bit of white space from the white paper background that allows the viewer to fill in the blanks and finish the story. It’s what draws you in and makes you stay and ponder what is happening in the composition. And I believe that’s why I like simplified abstract art. It allows the viewer to fill in the unfinished parts. 

Maker’s space

My home studio is upstairs with lots of natural light and a great view of the lake we live on. It leads to a deck for reading, relaxing or just sitting.

I designed the space with a large walk-in closet to store many of my supplies. I also have a large drafting table where I work on my compositions, as opposed to a design wall. It can be tilted, and a doubled wool blanket covers at least half the table creating a large ironing surface.

It’s very adequate and I love my space. Although, since I’m doing more painting, I’d prefer having a wood floor instead of carpet. There is also a desk, TV, couch and lots of power outlets. I love my couch and my view.

I work with a Janome 6600 domestic sewing machine and a Capri 18″ throat HandiQuilter. My other must-have tools are my sharp shears and iron.

“Being away from the main living space allows for leaving a big mess, but mostly, it provides solitude.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist 

Anne’s favourite themes are folk art, the natural world, memories and travel. And all of her works feature magical mash-ups of unique and colourful ephemera locked together with stitch. 

‘Inspiration boards’ play a key role in Anne’s creative process, and she’s generously sharing a look into that process. She’s also giving us a peek into her signature overstitching technique using her trusty old Bernina sewing machine.

Mixed media is very exciting in Anne Kelly’s hands. Be sure to zoom in to see all her hidden gems.

Fine art background

Anne Kelly: I’ve always been a maker, even from an early age, when I was influenced by my Canadian grandmother who was a wonderful needleworker.  

I trained as a fine artist in Canada, but it was visiting my British grandmother in London that first drew me to the UK. I moved here in the early 80s to continue my training at Goldsmiths in London and to start a career in teaching that would work around family life. 

Mixed media work was part of my training, and I became interested in finding ways to combine stitch with photographic and printmaking processes. I turned to my garden for inspiration, and this is when the symbiotic relationship between image and stitch first began. 

Everyday ephemera

I’m interested in everyday things. We all have so much fabric and paper ephemera surrounding us. I also take lots of photographs and collect things like tickets and leaflets when I travel. It can be a lot to sort through when I’m looking for items to use in my collages, and I like to choose carefully. 

Some ephemera can be quite valuable and fragile, especially old photos. So, instead of directly stitching on these cherished items, I’ll make a fabric pocket from white or cream organza. I stitch the pocket to the background layer and slip the item inside the pocket. 

Other times, I’ll transfer the images of delicate ephemera onto T-shirt transfer paper or pretreated fabric that can go through a photocopier or printer. 

I use a very wide variety of ephemera, and I enjoy the challenge of figuring out how to put them all together. For example, I made a series of Park Walk books for a solo exhibition at the Ruthin Crafts Centre. I used old maps, legal documents and the type of scrim used in hat making. 

“I am a great believer in using everyday materials and techniques.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist 

Loving print

There’s always an element of printmaking in my work. I just love the way that print works on fabric. It’s very different from printing on paper, but the ink or paint takes so well on fabric. Sometimes my printing is quite subtle, but I think it really enhances my textile art. 

I use quite a few printing methods, including screen printing, block printing, transfer printing and digital printing. It just depends on what I’m doing.

The secret is to keep everything as open-ended as possible and I always work on more than one piece at a time. Using a baking analogy, if you’ve got all the ingredients out, you may as well make more than one cake. I think if you’re working on more than one creation at a time, you’re more likely to be happy and enjoy it when something comes through. 

“Working on several collages at a time frees me up, as I’m not investing everything into trying to create the one perfect piece.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

Inspiration boards

I’ll use sketchbooks and photography to research my themes. Drawing and keeping sketchbooks is an important part of my practice, and I refer to them frequently when working on a new project. 

I always tell my students to have a sketchbook to hand, but they shouldn’t have to feel they have to use it in any particular way. I use mine as scrapbooks and pinboards. But they should use them as they see fit.

I also use inspiration boards, similar to the mood boards used in interior design. Seemingly disparate elements are combined, going on to inspire a new series of work.

Inspiration boards are an invaluable resource. I have been using them for many years to reference themes when creating new work. Depending on the project, I’ll use pinboards, cards or sketchbook pages for my inspiration boards. The main thing is they must be accessible in my workspace. 

I often start with my photograph collection, adding motifs, found paper materials and drawings inspired by vintage natural history books. I bring them together using stitch and embellishment. 

“My inspiration boards influence the direction of my work – but I’m not wedded to them, as the work may change as it evolves and progresses.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

Isle of Skye reflections 

I remember creating an inspiration board after a teaching and travelling visit to the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It allowed me to spend time reflecting on my travels, and I was able to combine collected papers and ephemera together in one place. 

I had everything from maps to Tunnock’s chocolate bar wrappers. I also looked through my collections of paper and textile scraps for colours and fragments that would work well with the project. 

“Starting with the idea of landscape, I used the board to connect disparate elements and combine them, in order to make new work.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist 

I selected a variety of weights, textures and thicknesses of paper and textiles, from tissue paper and organza, to handmade paper and wool. 

That inspiration board led to a wide range of works, and it will continue to inspire further explorations referencing this theme. 

Layers of detail

When creating my textile collages, I like to start with a strong background fabric such as calico or canvas. I layer this panel with fabrics that match the subject matter. The panels vary according to the size and shape of the artwork I’m creating. 

I consider the elements that will make up the surface, using sketchbooks, drawings, templates and photographs to determine the final look of the artwork. 

I join everything together using a variety of stitches and appliquéd fabric. Generally, I finish with free motion embroidery and some hand stitching. I back my work using vintage fabric if it’s being hung without a frame. 

I have an outdoor garden shed that I renovated for my studio. It’s not very big, so I always say to people it’s not the size of your space that counts, it’s what you do. I love being able to go there to work and then just shut the door and leave my mess until next time.

Drawing with stitch

For me, stitching is a form of drawing. I use hand and machine stitching, collage and simple printmaking techniques to merge my selected materials. The stitching acts as a web to bind the components together.

I use a variety of stitch techniques, both hand and machine. I’m known for using a repetitive edging stitch on an old Bernina to join layers of fabric together and create a netting effect over the surface.

“I entrap elements of the world in my textiles, then draw over them, making a new piece of tapestry-like fabric.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

I also use free-motion embroidery, particularly in my recent portrait series. For the hand embroidery, I favour simple stitches like running stitch, back stitch, blanket stitch and french knots.

The work I make fits into both the traditional and contemporary genres. While appearing traditional, I use a variety of techniques in a contemporary way. The naïve references and influence of the natural world make it relevant and topical.

Telling stories 

There’s always a story to be found in my work. For example, my series Friends and Family series looks at family and friends’ environments and passions.

Paul in the Garden showcases how my husband likes to read in the garden. It was inspired by a photo of him surrounded by plants. I used vintage materials, machine embroidery and hand stitch. The work is backed with a piece of linen and mounted on canvas for display.

I’ll also stitch stories from my own life. Resting and Jenny’s Owl came to life after I had a bout of flu. I wanted to recreate the view from my bed. My friend, Jenny, made the owl as a present and it is displayed as a focal point on my shelves. The artwork also features vintage materials, machine embroidery and hand stitch.

A seaside Stitch Club workshop

The artwork Small World was inspired by my larger work called Undersea. I wanted to take a closer look at the details of the sea, creating a jewel-like focus. 

I used machine embroidery, hand stitch, and textile collage including buttons and metal charms. I then mounted the work onto a hoop and sewed it into the frame.

I pursue a similar creative project in my Stitch Club workshop where members create sea-inspired textile collages using existing materials found in their stash. I think it’s an enduring and accessible theme for many, and I’m excited to show members new ways to combine materials.  

Fabric, thread and paper are Andrea’s materials of choice. But her computer is also a crucial design tool, enabling her to meticulously plan patterns and layers that interact with light to create shadows and volume.

How people interact with her work is of real importance too. Andrea encourages people to explore different perspectives and to appreciate the playful qualities in her work.

Her approach is the fruition of years of self-study. She draws on a wealth of influences and interests from her early years and adds to her ongoing research into colour, drawing, printmaking, digital design, weaving and textiles.

Andrea Barrios Aguilar: My work is delicate, intricate, meticulous and at the same time colourful and playful. It arises from the contemplation of textiles – their versatility and the way they can be moulded and shaped.

I’m fascinated by what you can do with chromatic and kinetic experimentation – working with colour and light and the sense of movement and energy that can be created. Geometry and the interaction of colours have always been the focus of my artistic exploration.

My intention is to create work which invites the viewer to play and discover. For example, realising that the appearance of the image changes depending on the viewpoint. When the viewer walks around the work they can appreciate the changing chromatic interaction.

Or perhaps discovering that all is not what it seems. When people see my work for the first time, they are often surprised that the medium is textiles. People think that artworks using textile slashing are made with paper or some kind of cardboard, rather than textiles.

The uncertainty about what they are looking at means the viewer is encouraged to take a closer look and thereby discover the different techniques and elements that make up the artwork.

“Every work presents a new opportunity to play with the possibilities of materials.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Inviting play

Around the time I started working as a textile artist, I discovered the work of Carlos Cruz Diez, a Venezuelan artist known for his exploration of the interaction of colours and light in different materials and at different scales – including large public installations.

His work introduced me to the concept of participatory work. This is where an artwork needs to be seen from different perspectives in order to be understood in its totality. Every artwork is an invitation to play, to move around the piece and discover a universe of colour and geometry.

By playing with paint over different layers and materials, Carlos creates pieces where the image changes as you look at it. He inspired me to explore bringing the same concept to the world of fabrics, and then to threads and other materials.

Intuitive colour

I have developed a particular way of working with colours. I’m often asked who taught me about colour but the truth is that I have never taken a class. I mostly work with colour intuitively.

Thanks to my art history studies, I’ve collected a lot of visual information over the years. This, combined with my personal sensibility and all the colour inspiration that life and nature offer us, shapes the way I approach colour.

I study and research a lot. I love to refer to sources of art, design, graphic design, architecture, photography and colour theory in books and online. It’s important for me to do this. It helps me refresh my ideas, decide on a particular colour combination, resolve a composition or simply as a way to continue learning.

“It’s not that I ignore the chromatic circle or colour theory, rather I integrate that knowledge with my feelings, observations and experiences.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

One of the hardest parts of the creative process is being confident about your chosen palette for a project. I’ve found that after years of practice, the approach becomes more fluid and intuitive.

It’s as if I’m having a silent conversation with the colours.

Nowadays, I trust my approach to colour and this means I feel so much freer with the colour design process.

Choosing colour

I don’t have a typical palette. I love colours that are fluorescent, like green, magenta or orange, but I don’t use them in every piece.

I pay particular attention to how colours combine. Sometimes despite spending a lot of time choosing the final colour for a project, I realise that the colour I need is nothing like the one I was looking for.

The materials also change. Some of the fabrics or threads go out of stock, or I might have a small piece of fabric with a particular colour that I can only use in a couple of pieces. Sometimes I never find the right colour or tone that I was planning to use so I have to modify the design a little bit – and sometimes a lot.

“My colour palette is connected with the subject or the mood that I’m in, and the materials I have available.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Discovering nature

I love to walk and as I’m wandering around the city I’m inspired by the colours of so many elements: architecture, graphic design, flowers and people. The landscape has also become an important source of inspiration.

I grew up in the countryside near the city but for many years I’ve been living in an apartment that, although very old and beautiful, has no balcony. During the pandemic lockdowns, I began to miss the countryside and the joy of travelling too.

I started walking to a nearby hill a couple of times a week. From the top, on days when the air and the sky are clean and clear, you can see a whole range of mountains surrounding the city – the Andes. I realised I wanted to have more landscapes and mountain views in my life. My work has become the perfect place to embrace that.

Light landscapes

First I made a series of drawings using parallel lines horizontally to recreate the view of a landscape from the window of a moving vehicle. Then I made another series in which I used recycled materials.

I am still exploring the representation of a landscape, while at the same time introducing light as a new element to the composition. My dioramas are made with waste textiles and then mounted over a lightbox. My idea is to bring an image of a landscape to life like at sunset or dawn.

I work over a light table creating the different layers of the diorama using pieces of silk, polyester, rayon, tulle and other recycled fabrics.

When the work is mounted with the light box behind, you see a bright, colourful and three-dimensional image of a landscape. The photograph of Diorama of a Landscape #8 shows how the piece looks depending on whether the light is on or off.

I have wanted to do something with light for a long time. These projects have been the perfect way to approach this – and it is just the beginning. My idea is also to incorporate light in the work with textile slashing.

I like to work on multiple projects at the same time so right now I’m dividing my days between my landscape series Dioramas of a Landscape and a new series of embroidery over paper in layers called Geometric Apparitions.

Creating digitally

Due to the delicacy of the materials I use and the precision required for the techniques I’ve developed, I like to plan as much as possible. Whether I’m working with fabric or embroidery on paper I create a detailed digital design.

This is essential for my process. In some cases – mostly with the embroideries – the time it takes me to work on the digital design is longer than the time it takes me to create the work itself.

Before I begin an artwork, I want to know the colours I will use and the exact place for every cut or perforation. I don’t want to end up with lots of holes in the wrong place.

I usually work alone in my studio and my phone is always on silent. This means I can focus on the process without distractions. Regardless of whether it’s fabric or paper and thread, my laptop is always on my desk displaying the image I’m working on.

Feeling colours

When I’m planning a piece, I’m considering the type of fabric, the colour, the light, the shadows of the folds and how all of these interact with each other.

I use digital design to help select the different colours for each project. I have a file that shows the colours of the fabrics that I have in my studio. This makes the design process more precise – even when there is a difference between the colours in the digital image and that of the actual fabric.

When working with fabric, I plan each piece as a chromatically fluid body, creating a structure of overlaid parts. When I’m working on the computer or with thread, every couple of minutes I do a little exercise where I squint my eyes a little. This helps me see the effect I’m looking for.

“I’m always thinking about the colour sensation I want from the final artwork.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Cutting & folding

After completing the graphic design, I have my computer on one side and mark the fabric using a thin chalk pen. Then I start cutting and folding (and ironing) areas until the whole project is finished.

Sometimes I piece elements together on the same layer, or I might create a kind of collage sewn and interspersed with cuts and folds illustrating concepts of colour, light, movement and time.

I use a wide range of fabrics. It’s crucial, however, that all the fabrics in a project have the same – or very similar – composition or percentage of cotton or acrylic. This is because they will be ironed together at the same temperature and I want to avoid scorching any layers.

The thickness of each fabric layer is also important. The more layers a work has, the thinner the fabrics used should be. I place the thickest fabric last to form the base of the project. This is because if all the layers in one ‘fold’ are too thick it will be difficult to iron and keep the shape.

Depending on the work, I might mount the piece on a board and frame it with a mat, taking into account the height of the composition. Alternatively, I mount the artwork on a wooden frame.

Stitching paper

Embroidery on paper has allowed me to expand the possibilities of representation as I use the thread as a line or vector in space. Thread has similar irregularities as a line drawn in ink.

The interplay of repeated patterns and overlapping layers interacts with light, shadow and volume highlighting the dynamic possibilities of textiles as a material and an artistic medium.

I design every embroidery on the computer. Once I have the final image, I put the computer aside and start drawing on the paper. After finishing the image, I make the perforations using a home-made tool. I’ve replaced the end of a typical gouge tool with a needle or pin so the holes will be as tiny as the needle I’m using for the project.

Once I’m finished with the perforations, I erase and clean the paper. Then I start the embroidery. The image displayed on the screen is my guide. I use an extensive range of threads, from silk to polyester, and also a variety of thicknesses. If I’m not sure about a colour, I will carefully do a little test in an area and then continue working.

“Every fibre has a particular brightness and interacts differently, not only with the light that surrounds the work but with other fibres.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Testing experiments

Developing my creative process has had its challenges. I grouped my first series of textile slashing works under the title Chromatic Textures. They are characterised by a free and organic line. The use of colour was more cautious with a limited palette.

My technique was also imprecise in the beginning. The parallel seams that I used to join the layers of fabrics were vertical and the cuts that were placed right in between the seam lines were rougher and less precise. I also used to sew many lines over the piece to hold the folds in place.

My process evolved and I started designing more abstract works with a cleaner image, specific geometric shapes and with the layers mounted in precise positions. By then I had begun using the computer to make all my designs.

I realised that I had to make some drastic changes to my process, from how I was holding and sewing all the layers together (to come up with a way to stop the fabrics moving when I’m machine stitching), to the places where I make the cuts.

“After much testing and experimenting, finally I achieved the right process to create the kind of work that I envisaged.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

I realised that in order to create the chromatic variation effect that I was looking for, it was better to make the seams and cuts diagonally rather than vertically. The way I keep the shape of the fold has also changed.

Every step of the process experienced some kind of modification, but I’m still following the same steps today. Although new obstacles have arisen as I’ve started working on bigger pieces, as I’ve worked out each process I’ve been able to resolve any problem – or so far at least.

Favourite tools

I used to work with typical small metal scissors but now my best friends are Fiskars scissors. I love them and recommend them to everybody. They are a different shape with a very long and sharp edge which is extremely helpful when you want a precise cut.

It takes time to use them without making mistakes. Because they are razor sharp they can catch on the fabrics behind when you are cutting through a layer. But it’s worth it. When I used regular scissors, my hands would be in quite a bit of pain after a couple of hours. Now I can work on a slashing piece the whole day without any problem.

Art business

Exhibiting, promoting and selling my work was hard at the beginning.

I didn’t have any background or formal study in visual arts. I had just taken a couple of basic elective courses when I was studying art theory. Therefore, when I was starting out I didn’t have the confidence in my artistic exploration that I have today.

Although there are many positives to being self-taught, you don’t have the connections that you might normally make at college. Establishing artistic ties and finding a place in those circles is more difficult. The art market in Chile is still small and, in some areas, precarious.

The appreciation and interest that people have in textile art has drastically changed in the last ten years. Textile art has broken into the sphere of contemporary art and is no longer seen as just another craft. The high quality of the work and the diversity of techniques have established it as another artistic discipline akin to drawing or painting. Contemporary textile art has much potential and a lot to say.

Creative stimulation

Everything is connected. I grew up surrounded by creative stimulation. My grandfather, who was a tailor, introduced me to working with textiles and the tools of the trade.

My father was an engineer. From him, I inherited a love of geometry, accuracy at work and its processes. I was always helping him, whether drawing, taking pictures or painting his structural plans of houses and offices.

My mother passed on her chromatic intuition and her skills in drawing, painting and using a sewing machine. My sister was also very creative and involved in different crafts making things. We used to sew together.

After I finished my major in Art History, I studied architecture for a year and the concept of cuts and folds came from work I did on that course.

All these elements influenced my early interest in art and design and have guided my exploration of contemporary textile art through self-study. Although I work mainly with fabrics and thread, my research and development of processes related to textiles have led me to explore other media like painting, drawing, photography and digital design.

I am inspired by many artists, designers and even architects. As well as Cruz Diez, I really connect with the work of Mark Rothko, Georgia O’Keeffe, Hilma af Klint, Agnes Martin, Carmen Herrera, Matilde Perez, Carmen Piemonte, Ellsworth Kelly and Lázló Moholy-Nagy.

I also really appreciate all the work and contributions that Gunta Stölzl, Sheila Hicks, Paulina Brugnoli, Anni and Joseph Albers have made in the areas of design, weaving and colour theory. My inspiration comes from all of them and so many more too.

Stitching therapy

When I started working with textiles, I was going through a difficult time personally. I was young and had recently lost both my parents, and my brothers were living abroad. It was a lonely and difficult time. I started connecting with fabrics, threads and paper as a way of expressing my emotions. Over time I established a daily practice.

In the end, that challenging time was the beginning. Even when I felt insecure because I didn’t have the ‘right’ background, I embraced what I had learned from my family and heritage and just jumped right in.

“I realised that I had found my passion for living, a way of connecting with myself and a form of meditation.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Paper embroidery

I discovered embroidery on paper quite unexpectedly – and it too arose from challenging times. I was in Madrid visiting my brother Nico who was getting married. I had received some upsetting news but I didn’t want my sadness to spoil the celebrations.

I had a small notebook with very thick white paper but nothing to draw with. I asked Nico if he had anything I could use. After some searching, he produced a bunch of Letraset transfers and a basic sewing kit with a few dull colours.

I stayed awake that night looking at these materials: the white paper, the needle and threads, and the Letraset transfers. The first embroideries I did on paper were figurative with a limited palette of just black, red, and light blue. They were deeply sad and raw, expressing all that I was feeling – and I felt like screaming.

I quickly discovered that embroidery on paper was a way I could express my emotions in a really personal way: it was paper yet textiles. The introduction to Letraset was a bonus and I continued working with them for several years.

Working methods

I live and work in one place. My apartment looks and feels more like a studio, with materials everywhere. The largest room is where I have the principal work area, but I tend to take over the dining table, the kitchen and even the small bathroom. And if I’m working for an exhibition or an art fair, you will probably find artwork and materials even on the piano.

I find it helpful to work on multiple projects at the same time. So, if something is not working I just move to another piece of work and do something different. It helps keep me connected with my creative process and moving forward. If I’m feeling all thumbs I switch my focus to working on the computer.

“I think working on different projects at the same time helps keep your practice going.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Working on multiple projects is also helpful when I make a mistake. Sometimes I might have to start all over again, so having something else on the go reduces my frustration and makes it easier to keep going.

There are occasionally days when my head is in another place and despite my best efforts, it is impossible to focus on any of the more complex projects. Then I like to experiment, for example, playing with different recycled materials that I’ve collected over the years. The Diorama of a Landscape series is the result of one of these ‘experimentation’ days.

Sometimes, however, I just have to give myself some distance from a piece, perhaps I need to find a solution for a problem or maybe change a colour that isn’t working. That can mean leaving it for days or going to do something different.

Other times I just stand in front of my desk and just look. I analyse the piece that I’m working on from a distance and the solution can come in a matter of minutes. I do this exercise also to help me decide when an artwork is actually finished.

Developing processes

My work has changed in so many ways over the years. Through the years I’ve been dancing with different themes: from geometry to landscapes, social movement, heritage and the city.

From a technical perspective, the cut I use in the slashing technique has become more precise and the length of the fold is a little longer. I now use more layers in a project and the designs are more intricate.

My embroidery on paper has also changed. From working and stitching on a single layer, today I design three-dimensional works. I have developed a system that allows me to create embroidery works made on different layers that I assemble to create a single final piece.

Working digitally allows me to create more detailed compositions, while at the same time making selecting a colour palette faster and more precise.

My approach to colour and design is going through continuous transformation. Now I feel more confident about my style and the palette I choose for each project. And with the incorporation of light into the process, I feel I’m entering a new and different stage. I have so many ideas.

“Using a computer as my main design tool has made my practice much more efficient.”

Andrea Barrios Aguilar, Textile artist

Robin’s artistic path has been full of meanders, from embroidered jeans to a designer clothes line sold in Malibu boutiques. Today, she creates meaningful messages and floral art on wire mesh.

Robin’s journey shows us that change is not only possible, it’s often necessary. 

When the challenges of running her fashion business became too much, Robin quit to pursue a different artistic direction. 

In her art, she consciously turns away from the turmoil of the world to focus on the beauty and poetry that can still be found. Today, her work incorporates a zen practice that’s a visual pathway to exploring her feelings. As Robin says, vulnerability takes courage but leads to joy. 

Her cross-stitched flowers on wire mesh celebrate the contrast between the industrial vibe of metal and the delicate aspects of embroidery and flowers. Using cotton macrame cord and cotton perlé embroidery threads, primarily in combination with cross-stitch, her process and stitch repertoire is ever evolving.

To Robin, it’s all play, experimentation and great fun. And the mathematical challenge of working with wire mesh is all par for the course. Her advice? Step out of your comfort zone and enjoy the ride.

Embroidered stories

Robin McCarthy: Bringing storytelling into an image has always been a driving factor for me. 

In 2009, I began to embroider photographs. As those images began to lean into cultural and political concepts, my embroidery became more complex. I worked with vintage photos, which led me down a path of creating pieces with digitally collaged backgrounds, adding embroidered illustrations that are reminiscent of old 1950s graphics. 

I like the juxtaposition of innocent-looking embroidered illustrations set within a deeper, more challenging situation happening in the background. It’s not uncommon for people looking at them to first react like they are cartoon-like, but upon closer examination, they often stay a while to look and ponder them further. 

‘My work aims to spark thoughts about how we humans have a tendency to accept circumstances by not paying close attention, often at our own cost.’ 

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Every embroidery I’ve ever done is a singular focus on that particular story, including my current work with wire mesh flowers. My Be Here Now woven chair says, ‘Stop, look and listen’. While venturing into embroidery on wire mesh to explore themes often of an organic nature, culture and politics still peek in, especially in my word embroideries. 

Innovative stitching

Robin McCarthy: I was born and raised in California, and, although I’ve left a few times, somehow I always come back. I practise my textile art from home there now.

Since becoming more seriously focused on embroidery I’ve been fortunate to make strides in a field blooming with amazing textile artists.

When I was in college, embroidering on your clothing was a common practice. I’d long been making my own clothes so my interest in textiles and sewing was well established. This embroidery trend immediately appealed to me. 

I recall taking a pair of my bell-bottom jeans and embroidering a detailed flowering vine up both legs. This may not seem so fresh now, but back then the concept was new and inventive. One thing led to another and soon I was embellishing my brother’s and boyfriend’s shirts with embroidery.

In 1974, a book came out called Native Funk and Flash: An Emerging Folk Art by Alexandra Jacopetti. I still have this book. It explored the work of artists doing all kinds of innovative crafts, many of which experimented with the art of embroidery. Those images planted seeds of inspiration in me.

Ball gown made of bras

We were given a class assignment to take an everyday object and utilise it in something new. Over the course of this class, for some reason, each assignment I completed was larger than the previous one – it became a source of fun and joking in the class. 

I began collecting old bras of varying sizes from friends and thrift stores. Row upon row, I constructed an elaborate ball gown made out of bras. Walking into class with this enormous garment bag, twice the size of the last assignment I had submitted, was a good laugh for us all. 

At first glance, people thought it was some kind of Cinderella gown – until they noticed it was made from bras. The whole process, from start to finish, was really fun.

Family influences

Without a doubt, my early influences were my mother and both of my grandmothers.

My mother is a woman with tremendous creative strength. Everything she does reflects a keen eye for colour, composition and care. That includes decorating the home, cooking a fine meal, gardening or quilt making. No matter the expertise, her results are inevitably beautiful and full of heart. 

She taught me to sew when I was 12 and I took to it straight away. With her help and great example of attention to detail, I began to make the most of my own clothes.

My maternal grandmother was also a gifted artist and was one of the early illustrators of the Walt Disney animations. I have a beautiful paper doll complete with a full wardrobe, that she illustrated and painted with watercolours as a young woman. 

Last but not least is my paternal grandmother. Indulging my devotion to dolls, she made complete wardrobes entirely by hand with exquisite detail. These influences seemed to be well suited to my natural inclinations and eventually led me to spending many years as a clothing designer.

Fashion design challenges

For a long time, my artistic side was put to more commercial practice. I was an art major in college without a clear goal of what to do with it. A casual comment to my boyfriend at the time led to designing clothes. His business nature when responding to my comment about people asking where I got my clothes was, ‘You should take orders’.

It seemed easy enough. Little did I know the path of a clothing designer would be so fraught with challenges.

I learned how to make patterns and began taking orders. Eventually, I had my own line. I  opened my shop in Malibu and also sold to boutiques and department stores throughout the USA.

But after doing this for many years, I recognized that my artist self was a shrunken self. I no longer had any passion for the fashion industry.

Quitting cold turkey, I followed with fulfilling stints working in theatre costume shops and making creatures with the Jim Henson Creature Shop. Still searching for a new direction, I decided to return to education and studied Graphic Design at the Otis College of Art and Design.

Just for fun, I enrolled in an embroidery class taught by the magnificent Susan Hill. She was one of the lead embroiderers on Judy Chicago’s famous Dinner Party exhibition. What a wonderful, quirky and inspirational woman.

This was the liberation I had been seeking. It led me to the fine art that I’m making today.

“I found a way to continue working with textiles and threads – my first love – but in a much more playful way.”

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist 

Wire mesh and maths

One day, as I was pondering a pivot, I remembered an evening, many years ago, when I asked a friend to join me. We were to embroider flowers on a chain link fence surrounding an empty lot next door. We had no technique, so the end result was crude and simple, but I always felt there were more possibilities to be explored. 

“I was intrigued by the industrial vibe of metal combined with the delicate quality of the embroidery.”

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Approaching the concept in my current art, all these years later, I’ve chosen to use 6mm-13mm (¼” to ½”) wire mesh grids. The grids are available in various widths, and lengths can be ordered in a similar way to buying fabric, which has allowed me to make considerably larger pieces. 

Unlike the diamond grid found in chainlink, wire mesh is in squares. This is much more embroidery friendly. I create the large flowers using cotton macrame cord. 

Maths is required when plotting out the design. That was an element I didn’t consider as I embarked on this new material, and it wasn’t my forte in school at all. 

Be here now

In Be Here Now Chair, the word imagery is stitched with cotton perlé embroidery thread. Cross-stitch lends itself well to the wire mesh. As my process evolves, I’m starting to play with long and straight stitch, fringe effects and leaving some threads dangling. 

I’m beginning to loosen up my strategy and just let instinct be my guide, a deviation from my usual literal and structured self. This makes me uncomfortable, but I’m loving the challenge, and that very characteristic tells me I’m on the right new track.

“A lot of the joy comes from experimentation. 

Some things work and others don’t – and that’s okay.”

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Organic flowers

The giant flowers painted by American artist Georgia O’Keefe have always resonated with me. I love the fact that they make you take a longer look. This seemed a good place to start as I turned towards the organic instead of the political. 

On a visit to the Huntington Gardens in California, a local treasure, a guide made an off-handed remark that weeds are situational, plants that conflict with your needs or goals. For example, although dandelions are often labelled as weeds, they can be beautiful. And they can bring the pleasure of making a wish while blowing the seed head puff. 

I often start with assorted photos of the flower and then create my own graphic design of it. I place the design on a grid that is laid out in the actual size. From there, I scale it down to a print size that I can use as a guide.

The zen approach

There are some layers to my hopes for my work. I initially seek a zen element in my art practice; a visual pathway to explore feelings. Previously my art was inspired by current events of the world and it had a storytelling and editorial quality to it by design. 

The darkness and challenges of today’s times have continued to escalate and overwhelm. So I chose to pivot for the sake of my mental health, and try to focus more on beauty and poetry, which can still be found amongst the turmoil. 

I don’t create art with others in mind, but it’s a nice reward when people are affected and moved in some way by my work. 

Another hope for my work is that I always continue to grow, learn and experiment. I don’t want to stay fixed in a particular style.

“There is power in beauty and humanity. This is what I want to focus on, in an effort to create a balance between the light and the dark.”

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Art for love

My future plans and goals are actually the same as the advice I would give to any aspiring textile artist. Do it for love. Don’t give up. Allow yourself to be vulnerable and show your work.

Vulnerability takes courage and joy is directly linked to vulnerability – they are inseparable companions. 

I’m a storyteller at heart and it’s likely I’ll revisit some of the materials of my previous work while taking a fresh approach as my embroidery experiments continue. 

I look forward to doing more organic imagery on wire mesh, as well as word graphics on walls and furniture. I’m definitely in the early, personal exploration of these new materials and I’m excited to see where it leads me.

Although materials change, threads of personal style remain throughout. 

Humour. Beauty. Hope, Despair. Inquiry. These are all things I contemplate. Embroidery is a big part of how I process being human.

“Be brave and never stop learning and excavating for inspiration.”

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist 

She uses embroidery on silk and maps to raise awareness about the impact of global warming, advocating for the natural world she loves.

By engaging with scientists and asking insightful questions, Bonnie strives to make the science of climate change more accessible. While understanding equations, graphs and statistics can be daunting for many, they’re second nature to Bonnie, thanks to her background in marketing and market research.

Now Bonnie uses her ability with numbers to translate complex scientific data about climate change into easy-to-understand visual narratives that are central to her work.

Her materials are silk, velvet, thread, maps, old journals and history. Her tools are words, numbers and graphs. Bonnie’s use of colour, collage, mark making and embroidery creates a magical blend of art and science that sparks conversation and inspires action.

Bonnie Peterson: I’m a visual artist investigating environmental and social issues using embroidery on silk and maps.

My work is primarily narrative and integrated with data and history. It examines geophysical climate issues with the goal of promoting a fresh opportunity to consider climate change and an urgency to take action.

I’ve always been fond of maths – I worked with data and graphs during jobs in marketing and marketing research. I think this, and my college statistics classes, fostered my interest in promoting graphs and related maths with climate issues.

I design simple explanations of the important principles and difficult modelling scenarios in environmental science. By incorporating these in my work, I hope to break down some of the maths-phobic barriers confronting climate maths and climate graphs.

For example, Turning Green illuminates data about the melting of Greenland’s glaciers using text, temperature and other recent climate data from NASA and the Jet Propulsion Lab research studies. I find it fascinating that this data is collected by twin satellites measuring gravity.

A basic understanding of the measurements and methods aids critical thinking, leading to more interest and acceptance of the consequences of warming.

Inspiring data

I am interested in the technical aspects of environmental data collection – I want to understand the mechanism behind the numbers, and the context and relevance of the data.

For example, Argo floats, which feature in Ocean Heat, collect data on ocean characteristics such as temperature and salinity. Ocean Heat shows heat content in the top 700 metres (2,300ft) of the ocean, plus data collection tools and the relevance of heat content to climate science. This artwork promotes an understanding of the physical science behind warming.

Drought explains how snow water equivalent data and tree ring science were used in 2015 to record the worst drought in California in 500 years. The goal of Drought is to engage viewers in the scientific process and lead to a greater understanding of the changing background conditions brought on by global temperature increase.

‘The science and maths behind climate equations, graphs and models are fascinating and seldom brought to the fore.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Text & texture

Text is an important feature of my work. It has evolved from applying text using transfers to using free motion embroidery.

Mixing a variety of source materials such as scientific data and early explorer’s journals, I stitch words and graphs on velvet and silk fabrics to make large narrative wall hangings and a series of topographic maps.

I annotate topographic maps with a labyrinth of climate variables at various future temperature and emission scenarios.

‘Stitching is a key element and I use a mix of hand and free motion embroidery.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

The surface of my work is a blend of appliqué and piecing, although not necessarily done in the traditional way. For example, sometimes I attach transfers with big suture-type stitches.

I enjoy adding hand stitches, crewel and crazy quilt stitches to random sections of my work. In Anthropocene CO₂, I’ve used traditional Kantha stitches in the velvet borders.

Science inspiration

I subscribe to a wide variety of web sources and journal articles for new climate research and to get a fresh look at climate science. The journal Nature is an excellent starting point.

There are an increasing number of reports about the negative aspects of climate change on the human body as the prevalence of heat waves increases dramatically.

I organise information on a variety of environmental and social topics in real and virtual folders. I then sift through the research related to a topic of interest that I want to spend more time developing into a piece of artwork.

I research the history of a topic and the data collection instruments such as satellites and ocean floats. Sometimes I will email a researcher to ask a question, to ask for more recent data, or for a different graph.

This process can take months, so I usually work on several projects at one time to allow sufficient time to work out kinks and make decisions.

‘I find that if there is a stopping point in a project, it turns out to be a good thing because it helps clarify an issue or thought.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Making sense

I assemble the background fabrics on a pin-up wall. Sometimes I photograph different fabric and thread colours to see what works.

Multiple layers of fabric usually require pin or thread basting. The centre layer is usually cotton flannel, which can withstand a hot iron.

Free motion embroidery is not computerised machine stitching. It’s where the ‘feed dogs’ are lowered and the hand moves the fabric in the style of writing. I like the happenstance of penmanship and the irregular sizes and spacing of words and numbers.

‘When I’m using free motion embroidery for text or a graph, I prefer to wing it rather than start with a marked line.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Free motion embroidery needs a stabiliser or a thick surface, so I use various methods to keep the thread from becoming twisted beneath the embroidered surface.

Solvy water soluble film, paper, tear-away or dissolving stabilisers or even just using a thick fabric surface helps with this problem.

I am interested in value, colour and contrast. I use a wide variety of threads from small diameter (such as size 40) cotton and polyester threads to thicker (size 12) wool, acrylic and rayon.

Silk thread is more difficult to find. I use all of these, whether doing hand stitching or free motion embroidery. Madeira is a source for the thicker rayon and wool threads and sparkly threads. I like the neon colours.

Exploring light

I love the shine and the directional nap of silk dupioni – it’s nubby and irregular. I like it as a base for embroidery. Different colours and reflectivity come out with various orientations of the fabric.

There are colour differences in the warp and weft. Velvet has some of these same properties in its differential shine and nap patterns.

In Days of Lead, you can see how I’ve used silk dupioni mixed with velvets. The artwork chronicles significant events during the first 1,000 days of toxic lead (Pb) in Flint, Michigan’s water supply, as well as environmental details about lead (Pb).

Both of these fabrics are difficult to find so I am always on the lookout. Mood Fabrics in New York City has unusual devoré or burnout velvets, and Silk Baron in Los Angeles has all kinds of silk and velvet.

Cool collaborations

I love partnering with scientists. Artist-scientist projects are a lot of fun because of the camaraderie, and the science is fascinating. Collaborations on concepts in fire ecology, atmospheric science, permafrost and other geosciences have driven my work.

I’ve participated in some exciting and rewarding projects including the University of Wisconsin, around issues of limnology – lake science and climate change; glaciology at Yosemite National Park; fire ecology at Northern Arizona University, exploring the intersection of extreme fires and societal change; dendrochronology, the science of dating tree rings, at the University of Arizona, as well as the declining mass of Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets, and permafrost melting.

Changing minds

The first project ‘Paradise Lost’ started in 2006. The University of Wisconsin-Madison brought artists and scientists together in Northern Wisconsin to learn about climate change.

Our goal was to make art for a travelling exhibition. The topic was not at the forefront of people’s minds as it is today.

That was the year former United States Vice President Al Gore’s movie, An Inconvenient Truth, came out. The terminology was transitioning from ‘global warming’ to the less confrontational ‘climate change’.

I was able to indulge my curiosity by asking many questions of the atmospheric scientists. I became interested in the CO₂ graphs made from ice cores and I used one of those graphs in my work.

Anthropocene (CO₂) depicts 400,000 years of CO₂ in the earth’s atmosphere. The Anthropocene Epoch is a unit of geologic time, used to describe the most recent period in Earth’s history when human activity started to have a significant impact on the planet’s climate and ecosystems.

On fire

Fires of Change: The Art of Fire Science was an artist/scientist project that explored how fire as an ecosystem process is impacted by climate change and societal development. Eleven artists attended educational field trips to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and other locations with fire managers and scientists.

During the boot camp, I saw that my notes contained a mess of arrows amongst a complex network of fire ecology variables. After I returned home and wondered what type of work I would make, my notes gave me the answer.

These arrows and the entanglement of fire attributes and consequences were the basis of On the Nature of Fire. I refined the notes by emailing the scientists until my diagram accurately reflected our workshop.

I embroidered the drawing onto a large deep purple piece of silk. I made the arrows and text more prominent against the deeply coloured background fabric by outlining the text and arrows with further embroidery. It turned out to be quite large with a velvet border.

As part of the project, I also made collages on two Grand Canyon topographic maps using text about the labour issues for wildland firefighters, the technical science issues of wildfire and the exploration history of the Grand Canyon.

In Phantom Ranch Quadrangle, I used collage, transfers, pen and stitching on a topographic map. I included text which contains fire terminology, the firefighter’s job description, information about their fire shelters and fire history from tree ring research. There is also text from John Wesley Powell’s Exploration of the Colorado River, 1895.

We had less than a year to complete our work so this large textile, plus two paper maps, had a tight deadline. On my website, I share more detail about my artistic process in engineering this complex artwork.

In nature

I have backpacked in the Sierras since the early 1980s and have a deep interest in the Muir Trail and in Yosemite National Park.

I have a large number of works which integrate the history and scientific measurements of the Lyell Glacier, Hetch Hetchy Reservoir and the John Muir Trail. These works were in the Fresno Art Museum a few years ago and the museum produced a YouTube studio tour video about them.

One project was inspired by a backpacking trip to measure the Lyell Glacier with Yosemite geologists. I wanted to make a piece about permafrost for a Chicago show, Geosciences Embroideries. It started out with a graph of the boreholes where permafrost temperatures are measured, using data from the Permafrost Laboratory at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks.

Transect illustrates the Lyell Glacier transect measurements from the 1930s through to 2012; John Boise Tilton’s journal from his 1871 first ascent of Mt Lyell; and John Muir’s description of the Lyell Glacier from 1800.

Permafrost investigations

Permafrost Boreholes includes a graph showing permafrost temperatures at a depth of 20 metres (65ft) in boreholes on Alaska’s North Slope for the past 40 years.

However, I soon discovered that permafrost is more complex than just borehole measurements. There is also the active layer and the issue of permafrost distribution.

This resulted in further artworks, Permafrost Active Layer and Permafrost Distribution. The latter shows a bird’s eye view of arctic permafrost and some of its characteristics. Permafrost thawing also releases carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere, causing even greater atmospheric warming.

World view

Although most of my work is two-dimensional, Climate Anomaly Globe gave me an opportunity to work in the round – literally.

In this artwork, more than 100 climate anomalies or deviations for 2017-20 are posted at each respective location around the globe. The 2020 anomalies are on red needles, 2019 are on green needles, 2018 are blue, and 2017 are yellow.

The anomaly data points are from NASA and the World Meteorological Organization. They are printed on over 100 flags and pinned onto a traditional school globe.

For example, one of the red needles that’s planted in the Arctic region states ‘2020 Arctic: 11th smallest maximum sea ice extent on record & 2nd smallest minimum extent on record.’

Finding time

When my kids were small I had National Park residencies. I would go on short backpacking trips with the kids while percolating ideas for artwork to make when I returned home.

The residencies were a great opportunity to balance seeing new parks and working on new issues, at the same time as looking after my family.

Back in the 1980s, I used standard USGS 7.5-minute topographic maps for orienteering in the backcountry (today, backpackers bring cell phones for navigation). I started to use these maps as the base for a collage of images and text about my wilderness trips.

Some images were transferred to silk and sewn by hand onto the maps and some were ironed directly onto the maps. In Glacier Survey Quadrangle I joined multiple maps together to look as if it were a single map.

When sewing a piece of silk onto a paper map I usually put a small piece of interfacing on the back of the map so that the needle holes do not tear the paper.

Lakeside adventures

I participated in Crater Lake’s Centennial Artist in Residence programme, whose goal was to generate artwork for a centennial exhibition. I requested dates in late March that year because I love to ski.

Crater Lake traditionally receives 12 metres (40ft) of snowfall, which boils down to six metres (20ft) on the ground. They received about a third reduced load that year but there was still enough snow to ski around the lake, a distance of 53km (33 miles).

I had quite an adventure during my backpacking ski trip around the lake, including a broken tent and stove. I made a wall hanging and embroidered the story of my ski trip in the borders with maps and also a large collaged map merging the Crater Lake East and West topographic maps.

One residency will sometimes inform another. At the Lucid Foundation near Point Reyes, California, I started a project where I integrated current and future global temperatures with the consequences of warming.

I used topographic maps as the background and marked them up with global temperature changes and climate consequences. I made a series of enlarged human-sized canvas maps with labyrinths of temperature consequences.

At another residency, I was able to refine these drawings and also a series of embroidered climate graphs. There are about 10 of these graphs and they emerge from oil cans.

‘An artist residency offers a unique source of inspiration – time alone and distance away.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Early influences

My mother taught me to sew. When I was in my early teens, she let me choose the fabric so I could sew my own clothes. I still remember my favourite yellow dress.

Back then, sewing clothes wasn’t unusual and a home economics sewing class was part of the girls’ middle school curriculum.

In the 1950s my parents were briefly medical missionaries before settling in Chicago. However, the urge to help people in Africa never left my Dad. I was a junior in high school when our family moved to Kinshasa (now in the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

Dad established an anaesthesia programme at the Lovanium University. Poverty and power imbalances were everywhere, and Zaire (as it was then) was part of the Cold War power balance.

‘The legacy of colonialism contributed to my interest in human rights issues, treaties and war casualties, which has come out in my work throughout the years.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

I didn’t sew again until I was pregnant and wanted to make maternity clothes and baby clothes. We were living in Tallahassee. I was working part time and also at a traditional quilt shop. There I fell under the spell of the beautiful cotton fabrics.

I joined a quilt guild, and they really encouraged my first wall hanging of the Chicago skyline. My kids were little and I used to furiously work for several hours after they went to bed.

Early works

About 30 years ago a close friend died of breast cancer. This prompted me to make what I call my ‘bra’ quilt. I used de-wired bras, my friend’s poetry and news articles about breast cancer, which I transferred to fabric and integrated with the bras.

My friend’s poems about her experiences with isolation due to the ‘c’ word caused me to call this piece Talk to Me.

I used a dye printing technique with dye paper. Talk to Me didn’t get juried into quilt shows initially so I entered it in the Evanston Art Center’s Vicinity show where they hung it as a sculpture in the middle of the room.

I was surprised that the back was showing with the bobbin threads exposed – it looked a little raw, but no one else cared.

This led me to be unconcerned about the backs of my work being covered or having knots and threads.

Artist’s mindset

My first solo show was at ARC Gallery in Chicago (one of the two women-run ‘co-op’ galleries in Chicago) and I called it Political Art Quilts.

The opening was during a huge Chicago snowstorm, but a few people braved it. I learned how to install, make text signage, and publicise my show.

And while this show was up, I received an Illinois Arts Council Individual Artist Grant. This was a pivotal moment for me.

‘I had no formal education in art.

For the first time, I began to think of myself as an artist and enter my work in juried art shows.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Working environment

About 10 years ago, I moved about 400 miles (640 km) north of Chicago, to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Houghton is on the south shore of Lake Superior. I work in a home studio.

One side overlooks the woods where I cross-country ski on winter mornings, the other looks out over the street where I ride my bike. I ski from December through March or half of April since we normally get over five metres (200″) of snowfall. However, recent winters have been very short so I have to ride on an indoor bike most of the winter.

Living in a rural area has been a big adjustment after living in the city, and having the easy friendships, nearby art communities, monthly openings and the variety of art venues on your doorstep. I miss all of that.

‘I use every opportunity to see art exhibitions when I’m travelling, and I try to connect with other communities of artists.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Guiding principles

The twists and turns in my work have always eluded my ability to predict a direction, and that’s what makes life interesting.

I look at as much art as possible, whether or not it has textile content. I use travel as a way to expand my geographic reach and exposure to more art. I recently visited Japan and that’s given me lots of inspiration.

It’s good to seek out an artist community. Look for studio tours and speak with the artists. When I was starting out exhibiting my work I belonged to a critique group of fibre artists. I was inspired to make work for the monthly meeting deadline. The structure of critical sharing was also helpful.

I encourage you to follow your intellectual curiosity. I have always been fond of maths, data and graphs and so I combine that with my interest in climate issues. My first subjects were prompted by my interest in the Gulf War and family issues – marriage, children and divorce. I am deeply committed to environmental data, policy and justice issues and I expect to continue with this theme.

Shervone is a first generation Afro-Caribbean American interdisciplinary artist based in New York. Her family is originally from the island of Grenada, and her practice draws inspiration from her Afro-Caribbean American identity and traditions.

Through textiles, assemblage, printmaking, sculpture, installation and public art, Shervone honours her ancestors and highlights their traditions. She retells and reconfigures stories of history, mythology and personal experience.

Shervone enjoys tracing the origin stories and afterlives of objects, using repurposed items, antiquities and family photos to reflect childhood memories and associations with Grenada.

It’s clear that Shervone’s work is borne from a deep respect and admiration for her colleagues, teachers, and ancestors, particularly the creativity, resourcefulness, and intuition of her female influences.

Reconnecting with history

Shervone Neckles: My multi-sensory experimentations with materials allow me to examine the process of restoring, remembering and reclaiming my family’s Grenadian history. I envision the art objects I create as contributions to expanding my family’s legacy and imagining its endless possibilities for its future.

The contributions of my ancestors are often lost and forgotten: they’re either intentionally omitted from the historical record or overshadowed by the need to survive, migrate, settle and integrate into a new society. My family did this in the 60s and 70s when they migrated from Grenada to the United States.

“Through my interdisciplinary approach to art making, I visually explore what it means to reconnect with ancestral wisdom and history.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Grenadian tastes & smells

My series Sense Memory Works, which includes Pepper Pot, gives an example of my interdisciplinary process, honouring my ancestors, celebrating our traditions and making visible their labour, ingenuity and contributions.

This handmade paper and textile series incorporates ingredients from family recipes. Similar to preparing a meal, I meticulously chop, measure and combine spices such as curry, ginger, hibiscus, nutmeg, pimento, saffron and root vegetables like breadfruit, cassava, potatoes and yams. These ingredients are then mixed or puréed and incorporated into the paper pulp.

For example, in Pepper Pot, I used scotch bonnet peppers, black eye peas, puréed coconut milk, callaloo, dasheen leaves, green plantain, breadfruit, channa peas, pumpkin, red and green peppers, onions, turmeric, saffron, yams and oil down seasoning.

These recipes passed down orally through generations of my maternal line, are akin to cherished heirlooms. Since my generation is not actively preparing and eating these foods like those previously, my concern is how to preserve recipes if they’re neither written down, prepared, nor verbally shared.

“The tastes and smells of these dishes are captured in the fibres of the paper, creating a tangible archive of my family’s history and culinary traditions.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

I use mixed media elements of repurposed objects, family photos and textiles, along with assemblage, embroidery and printmaking techniques to reflect childhood memories and associations with Grenada.

Each piece has its own narrative, forming textural works that recall the multisensory experience of watching my mother, aunts and grandmothers preparing meals during my girlhood.

Female flare

The women in my family have profoundly shaped my life. From them, I inherited ways of knowing and being in the world that are deeply intuitive and expressive.

I come from a long lineage of self-taught, self-made entrepreneurs ranging from seamstresses, mechanics, healers, musicians, orators, culinarians and beauticians to educators. This ‘make do’ resourceful spirit found in my work is a tribute to their boldness, ingenuity and wit.

For years, I’ve watched their creative and intellectual knowledge nourish our home, run family businesses, and cultivate the communities they are part of. They each possess an innate aesthetic sense for embellishment – everything they do is done with a little extra style, shimmer, shine and flare.

I’ve always admired their foresight, resourcefulness and ability to prepare, improvise, experiment and take risks. I realise now what they modelled and passed on to me guides and informs who I am, and this is expressed through the artwork I create.

Overcoming uncertainty

I have so many interests and work in such a vast range of mediums, that I often feel like I’m walking my own path while I chart it. Charting the unknown makes me feel extremely vulnerable at times.

This uncertainty can lead me to question if the research I’m doing is worth the time and whether the work will ever be appreciated. However, my insatiable curiosity and passion for learning always overpower the voices of doubt and allow me to move forward with my research and realise my ideas, regardless of how they might be received.

There’s an urgency I feel to seek out these stories and share them through the range of mediums that I work in. This feels like part of my role and purpose as an artist, which simply can’t be denied.

To overcome this challenge, I introduce my work by starting with the inspirations, intentions and motivations behind it, followed by my thinking and making processes. This helps provide context and clarity for all those engaging with my work.

Research & intuition

An idea begins with a spark, ignited by something I’m reading, watching, learning about or something I’ve attended. This curiosity leads me to different phases of research into the subject.

The first phase involves online research, combing through visuals, and reviewing different types of scholarship such as written articles, lectures, panel discussions and podcasts.

The second phase includes visits to libraries, historical societies, special collections and research centres to collect more information.

When possible, I conduct site visits to spaces or places connected to the subject, photo-documenting, taking notes, connecting with individuals affiliated with the locations or subject, and asking questions and gathering their recommendations for additional resources.

Throughout this research process, I organise the imagery and text into a vocabulary that will inform the materials and mediums I will use. This helps me translate the narrative I want to tell and determine the type of presentation I want to make.

This stage involves experimenting with materials and techniques and creating drafts and sketches of the different components that will go into the individual works in the series or overall installation.

I may consult with trusted colleagues and other experts to get advice, especially if the project includes new or unfamiliar elements.

“Developing an idea this way takes time, sometimes even years, which is why I often have multiple projects at different stages happening simultaneously.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Always inquisitive

Having something always in development fulfils my need to continuously learn new things. When I’m researching one project, I often come across information relevant to another project, creating a symbiotic process.

When I reach the production stage in the studio, I surround myself with the images, notes and quotes from my research for continuous inspiration.

I work off initial hand-drawn sketches, computer generated drafts, or collages that combine the two. This helps me establish the composition. Then I let the materials and my intuition guide the rest of the process until the work is complete.

Velvet, embroidery & herbs

I like sourcing my inspirations and materials from the places that are part of daily life, such as my local Korean and West Indian vegetable, fruit and herb vendors in Jamaica, Queens, New York City.

These sources are most evident in my Terciopelo series, where I use collage, appliqué, embroidery, and beading techniques to create textile works and wearable sculptures that pay homage to the Grenadian masquerade ritual of Jab Jab.

Terciopelo is the Spanish word for velvet, it also refers to the venomous snake found in Caribbean sugar cane plantations.

The series draws its symbols and imagery from the J’ouvert (daybreak or early morning) carnival procession known as Jab Jab.

Masqueraders display their racial pride by covering their skin in the rich blacks of molasses, burnt cane and black grease. They carry chains, ropes and serpents to honour the survival of enslaved and oppressed ancestors. The ritual takes place at daybreak, a time when the living and ancestors exchange energy.

This public ritual conjures the energy needed to bring order and balance to society. This imagery is combined with plush, luxurious upholstery velvet materials and metallic embroidery threads to, as author Zora Neale Hurston once said, ‘decorate a decoration’.

Recalling the velvet tapestries and prints that once hung in my family’s homes, I used embellished sensorial materials to evoke childhood and ancestral memories.

“The colour palette of black, gold, red and blue symbolises Black pride, spirituality, royalty, power and freedom.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Sacred & scientific

My motivation for connecting the sacred and scientific can be seen in the You Are Your Best Thing textile work from my Provenance series.

Inspired by Caribbean mythology, You Are Your Best Thing uses mixed media techniques of appliqué, embroidery and beading to tell the story of three female figures whose heads blossom into neurons.

Beaded veins run through their bodies, connecting their consciousness to one another and to the earth, mimicking the complex root networks trees use to communicate and transfer nutrients and information for survival.

The neurons emerging from above and the roots from below the figures illustrate the ineffability of Black womanhood and the methods of resistance necessary for survival.

The electronic resistors symbolise the lineage of ancestral wisdom carried and passed on through root networks or generations of ancestors.

This work also draws from the Central American plant known as the Give and Take Palm (Chrysophila Argentea), which produces both a toxin and its own antidote.

“By reflecting the interconnectedness of life, wisdom and resilience, I am able to bridge the sacred and scientific.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Layers of meaning

My piece Domiciliation: Bless This House Repository #1 is an example of how I repurpose images, material, space and text in an artwork. It’s a mixed media sculpture that incorporates photo documentation and records from my family archive.

Repository #1 is part of the larger Domiciliation: Bless This House installation focused on reconstructing and safeguarding my family’s history using clear polyvinyl chloride (PVC).

“The concept of repurposing is essential to my work and practice.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

I screen printed family records such as my grandmother’s journal entries, the land survey of my ancestral home in Grenada and photo documentation from my grandfather’s passport photo and imagery of my mother’s childhood home onto PVC material, a material originally designed for furniture and garment protection.

By encasing these memories and records with the same plastic materials our family used to cover and protect their furniture and cherished items, I draw a parallel to my grandmother’s upholstery work as a seamstress. Through these layers of repurposing, I function as a custodian of this history.

The elements are housed together in a gold-adorned vessel, compressing and capturing memory and history. The transparency of the PVC material allows the imagery and text to appear and recede from view, depending on the viewer’s proximity to the work.

By altering the intention or purpose of an image, text, object, material or space I can introduce layers of meaning that welcome various interpretations, and form a connection and dialogue with the viewer.

Life and learning

In addition to my formal training in both undergraduate and graduate studio art and art history, with a focus on sculpture and art education, I’ve always fuelled my artistic practice and curiosity by intentionally pursuing opportunities like apprenticeships and workspace residencies. These experiences have exposed me to new mediums, materials and artmaking techniques.

At the Fabric Workshop and Museum in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania I learned large scale silkscreen printmaking. At the Center for Book Arts, New York I honed my skills in bookmaking.

I explored the vastness of the printmaking medium through the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop and the Manhattan Graphics Center workspace programmes in New York City. And I’ve experimented with handmade papermaking from Dieu Donné Paper Mill, Brooklyn.

Many lessons about life and the art industry have guided my artistic journey, lessons my formal art training didn’t prepare me for.

I learned lessons like charting a career path that aligns with who I am and maintaining the integrity of my voice, managing an active studio practice alongside family and employment commitments, building an inner circle of support, handling fluctuating relationships with money, and navigating the gallery, museum and art industry.

Enduring friendships, lasting relationships with trusted colleagues and mentors, and closely following the careers of respected art professionals have provided me with invaluable guidance over the years.

These artist peers have encouraged me to define my role, assert my voice and get clear on my purpose as an artist. Their unwavering conviction and sense of purpose have propelled them beyond their own fears and apprehensions, and their example has been instrumental in shaping my artistic journey.

Efficient workspaces

I currently operate my studio practice out of my home in Queens, New York. I can manage the daily demands and time constraints of being a parent with remote employment and a rigorous, full-time artistic practice.

I’ve become extremely efficient at optimising my time: early mornings, nights, weekends and vacations, and have come to really appreciate my current studio setup, which was initially born out of necessity.

My home studio is designated for all the dry processes such as 2D works on paper, textiles, embroidery and assemblages, while the wet and large-scale works are done off-site at workspace studios or in collaboration with fabricators.

The delineation between my office and administrative work from my studio space allows me to conduct research and prepare materials months in advance.

My time spent in the studio is dedicated to deep experimentation, materials investigations and collaborations that fulfil my curiosity and execute my artistic vision.

“My art is my raison d’etre and helps me to truly fulfil my function here.

It’s my way of paying respects to my ancestors.”

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist