The magic is found in her use of ‘sequins,’ which Jessica stresses aren’t limited to shiny little plastic circles. They can be created from anything and in any shape, including sweets wrappers, straws, wire, metal washers, junk mail, cereal boxes and, of course, fabric.

While Jessica’s whimsical bits and bobs are a joy to behold, they also have a serious purpose in raising awareness about zero waste and recycling. Jessica seeks to literally turn rubbish into works of art, and she delights in viewers’ astonishment upon closer viewing of her work. ‘Look! That’s a bottle cap!’

Jessica’s vibrant selection of unloved objects, combined with traditional embroidery work, is something we’re sure you haven’t seen before. And she is kindly offering us a look into both her process and artistic philosophy.

Tell us a bit about your art practice…

Jessica Grady: My work is entirely stitched by hand using embroidery techniques and intricate detailing. Each stitch provides an added element of texture and colour to the work as a whole.

With a lot of sculptural embroidery pieces, I often stitch into and embellish my embellishments before adding them to the fabric, to increase the level of small details.

I also like to work in layers to help build up my pattern. I begin with the largest shapes first, and then the detail gets smaller as I layer up, leaving my embroidery stitches as my final flourish.

I am a fan of basic stitches, such as straight stitch, couching, french knots and chain stitch. I think the most simple stitches have the most versatility in the way they can be manipulated and used within a piece of work.

When I stitch embellishments onto fabric, I try to use my securing stitch as an added pattern or design. It’s like doodling with a pen on paper, but I use my needle and thread.

I also cut and create the vast majority of my sequins and beads through many mixed media processes, including dyeing, painting, fusing and foiling.

Colour is another important aspect of my work. I use many strong and highly contrasting colours, creating a very vivid and saturated colour palette. My artworks are a textural and visual feast, saturating the senses with colour and pattern.

From trash to treasure

Tell us about your design process…

I am a firm ‘anti-planner’ and avoid planning out designs in advance. I instead create mini samplers that demonstrate a technique or motif idea that I have swirling around in my head. I can then see if the idea works and then develop it further.

I prepare my materials in batches, so one day I might be dyeing recycled plastics and on another I am painting metal washers. I want to have colourful and exciting things ready, that make me want to create something with them.

I work with recycled and unconventional materials, so actually creating my sequins, beads and embellishments is my favourite part of the process.

Every work is inspired by my materials – the colour, shape or texture of something is always the catalyst to what will be created.

Jessica Grady, Textile artist

For me, it’s all about transforming waste materials. For example, I’ll take something mundane like a ground coffee packet and then dye, paint, scrunch and overstitch the fabric to create something totally unique. And nobody would be able to guess it’s made from something many people would throw in the bin!

I’m passionate about utilising mixed media and recycled materials such as painted metal washers, hand-dyed plastic waste, dyed sponges and stripped electric cables. The juxtaposition of unusual media with traditional techniques invites the viewer in for a closer look.

My continued experimentation also means I don’t think I will ever run out of new ideas for unusual materials I can stitch onto my fabrics!

Collections transformed

What initially attracted you to textiles as a medium?

I was fascinated with textiles from a young age. My great aunt gave me pieces of fabric with printed flowers and showed me how to embroider with coloured threads. I attempted to finish them off with neat flowers, but my attraction was more to the colours and textures of the stitches.

I also vividly remember destroying my poor mum’s ironing board cover, after a first attempt at devoré printing (a burn technique largely used with velvet) as a teenager.

I love the tactility of textiles, and I enjoy the challenge of creating a highly-detailed, three dimensional surface using embroidery and embellishment.

What were your early influences?

I grew up in a small town on the Yorkshire coast. I have always loved being near the sea and hunting for treasure, be it fragments of sea tumbled glass or broken shells and pottery.

I became a collector of ‘stuff’ at an early age, and it’s only now that I am going back to those collections and finding ways to incorporate those small pieces into my embroideries.

I was very shy and anxious as a child and threw all my energy into my studies and art projects. In a way, I feel it gave me a voice when I didn’t feel confident enough at the time to express myself through talking.

My family has always encouraged my art practice, and my mum was always coming along with me to look at new exhibitions or to shop for craft supplies.

Ironically, my college career advisor told me a textiles degree would give me limited career options, and therefore, wasn’t a good choice. Safe to say, I didn’t listen to her!

What was your route to becoming an artist?

I studied art and design at Norwich University of the Arts. After looking through my sketchbook, one of my teachers encouraged me to look at textiles as a degree option. Every page of my sketchbook had influences of texture, and I would try any new textile practice I could get my hands on.

So I completed a textile design degree, learning to weave, knit, print and stitch. My course had a flexible approach that allowed me to dabble with practices that interested me, rather than having to cement myself to one single discipline.

University helped hugely with my confidence and development of my artistic voice. I also interned at several commercial textile companies, including Hand and Lock, and Zandra Rhodes.

After graduation, I worked for several London companies as a freelance embroidery and print designer in the fashion industry. But I still created my own work and was always applying for exhibitions and shows alongside my commercial practice.

After a while, I found working in fashion began to dilute my sense of who I was as an artist, so I decided to do more of my own work. I applied for a new artist award in 2017 called ‘RAW Talent’ offered by an organisation called art&, and to my surprise, I got into the programme. It was an amazing experience in which I received both one-on-one and group mentoring. It made me realise that yes, I could do this. I just needed to be stubborn and not give up!

I am a big believer that you must keep plugging away and shout about your practice, including using social media or writing to magazines and shows.

What currently inspires you?

Colour, shape and pattern are my biggest inspirations. I also like a good challenge in taking something particularly bizarre and adding it into a textile context. If something has a hole in it, I will stitch it onto fabric. And if it doesn’t have a hole, I’ll drill one in!

My work is deliberately ambiguous in its theme. I enjoy hearing what people think the pieces look like, and for me, the main goal is to encourage curiosity and evoke a sense of playfulness and joy. I always say I create happy work only, with the colour really shouting out to you when you look at a piece of work.

I am also inspired by my recycling ideas and trying to give materials a new purpose by turning them into something beautiful.

Zero-waste art

Tell us about an artwork that holds fond memories…

Fragments is a large-scale three dimensional framed artwork created entirely using recycled straws, wires and dyed medical tubing. This piece really pushed me out of my comfort zone and started my love of more sculptural embroidery work. It took several months to stitch.

At the time, I was at a pivot point in my artistic journey. I was making work because I wanted to sell the work and not because I wanted to make the work. I hadn’t yet realised that creating something I put my all into would be stronger than something made for commercial purposes.

I sent photographs of the piece to various magazines and shows, and it landed me a feature in several international textile magazines. And it is still a piece I enjoy taking to shows, including the International Quilt Festival in Tokyo, Japan (2020) and the Art Textiles Made in Britain exhibition (2021).

How has your work developed and evolved?

My work has evolved and grown up along with myself! I started my journey being quite hesitant and unsure. But my frustration at the lack of interesting sequins and beads led to me becoming more aware of zero waste practices. I now make a conscious effort to recycle and use up unloved materials in my embroidery work.

My sense of colour has also changed and grown stronger.

An exciting personal development has been the idea of creating highly sculptural 3-D embroidery pieces that break out of the format of framed artwork. I enjoy the challenge of stitching vertically, and that, combined with large-scale work, gives me lots of future installation ideas.

And in 2023, I achieved my goal of writing a book about my processes and ideas, when Stitched Mixed Media was published by Crowood Press.

As a young art student in the 90’s, Emma Cassi fell in love with fashion designer Dries Van Noten’s intricate and colourful embroidered scarves. Her student budget, however, offered no hope of ownership, so Emma tried to create her own scarf. That experiment would set Emma on a textile art journey for years to come.

Emma has a passion for working with what’s on hand, describing it as both an inventive and resourceful approach to making. She also loves the ‘alchemy’ of creating her own dyes from her natural surroundings. Who knew red mud could create such magical textures and colours?

We’re excited to share Emma’s diverse portfolio that’s aesthetically and spiritually connected. Emma literally lives and breathes her creative process, and it’s a wonderful reminder of how the process is as valuable as the end result.

It started with a scarf

Emma Cassi: My mum was a fine seamstress, and both of my grandmothers were incredible with needles and textiles. One of my grandmothers spent her time crocheting in her armchair, and the other repaired garments and socks to perfection.

I completed a year of Art History at university and then enrolled in the Beaux-Arts in Dijon, France. I didn’t work with textiles for my coursework, but I started embroidering in my spare time. It was like a hobby, and I was very bad at it in the beginning. 

While studying, I attended Ann Hamilton’s solo exhibition in Lyon (1997) where I had a big revelation. A peacock was running free in a room with floating red fabric hung across the ceiling, and big, white textile panels with embroidered poems hung from the ceiling to the floor. It was the first conceptual textile art I had seen. It touched me because it was poetic, beautiful, and so unusual. 

At the same time, Dries Van Noten was using embroidery from India in his designs. Art and fashion were mixing, and it was a very interesting time. Embroidery wasn’t as fashionable in 1996 – it was either in museums or in grannies’ wardrobes.  

Van Noten’s use of delicate beadwork, stunning mixes of colors and patterns were exquisite. His designs and collaboration with the best artisans in the world made him one of the best fashion designers.

Of course, I couldn’t afford any of Van Noten’s scarves, so I tried making them myself. That was the beginning of a 20-year training endeavour and my relationship with fabric, needles and threads.

Vegetal alchemy

My connection to alchemy began by chance at the Wellcome Collection Library where I assisted with the translation of an old alchemical book written in French. At the time, I was studying herbalism, and I was captivated by the art of ‘spagery’ – transforming plants into medicinal essences. 

Rudolf Steiner’s Alchemy of the Everyday further deepened my interest, and in 2018, my curiosity led me to begin dyeing fabrics using herbal infusions.

I work with natural materials such as plants, mud and powders, and I use rainwater or mountain water to allow the elements to influence the outcome. Fabrics are left outside to interact with the sun, wind and rain, creating unpredictable and organic patterns. 

The process is as important as the result, embracing imperfection and spontaneity. I never repeat the same mixture or method, which makes each piece unique. Alchemy and vegetal come to life as a dialogue between materials and elements. Transformation is at the heart of my creations, and the journey is as meaningful as the final work. 

“For me, ‘vegetal’ represents the raw, untamed energy of nature. So, my approach to fabric dyeing is wild and intuitive.”

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist 

Avocado skins & berries

I love using avocado skins and pits, turmeric powder, and berries I find in nature, such as blackberries. Pomegranate skins and leaves also play a big role in my dyeing process. The plants I choose often reflect where I am. For example, when I lived in England, I worked with nettles. Now in Spain, rosemary has become a staple.

Bundle dyeing is one of my favourite techniques. It’s such a joyful process, where petals, flowers, leaves and anything found in nature comes together to create unique, unpredictable patterns. 

“The magic lies in the transformation – ordinary materials become vibrant colours, often in surprising ways.” 

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist 

Flea market treasures

I often visit the vibrant El Rastro Sunday morning flea market in Madrid, Spain. It’s a wonderful place to uncover unique treasures and fabrics. However, I still have a deep connection to the flea markets and brocantes in my hometown of Dijon, France, to source vintage materials.

I’ve been collecting a lot of linen lately to make curtains. I then repurpose leftover pieces for other projects. I also recently came across a beautiful collection of vintage handkerchiefs that I’m transforming with embroidery.

Upcycled cotton bed linens with holes or stains are also appealing. I enjoy their well-worn softness and am inspired by the fact they’ve been washed countless times. I’m giving them a second life, breathing new stories into materials that witnessed so many dreams. 

Vintage threads are also lovely, particularly cotton and silk. They have a unique texture and quality that often tells a story, enhancing the narrative aspect of my pieces.

Occasionally I’ve come across collections of old threads, which feel like little treasures waiting to be revived. They bring a timeless elegance to my stitching, making each piece feel deeply connected to the past. 

African beadwork

Shortly after designing some masks for Hand & Lock, I travelled to Kenya where I fell in love with the incredible artistry of African beadwork. I saw sacred works including Masai jewellery, Yoruba beaded chains from Nigeria, wire-beaded animals and stunning wall hangings. They were truly magical and left a deep impression on me. 

When I returned, I began creating 3D portraits as a way to continue my intimate connection with Kenya’s cultural richness and my passion for beading embroidery. 

I had already explored intricate beadwork and sequins in my jewellery-making practice. However, transitioning those techniques to textile art brought new challenges, particularly in creating the 3D effect. I experimented with adding stuffing to specific areas which required a balance between structure and flexibility to ensure it was still easy to embroider upon. 

Mastering that method was a huge win, as it opened new possibilities for depth and texture. Seeing how the beadwork transforms a flat surface into something alive and dimensional has been incredibly rewarding. 

Beading advice

My advice for readers wanting to add beadwork to their textile art is to start by exploring different types of beads to find what resonates with them, whether it’s their textures, colours or materials. It’s good to experiment with various sizes to see what looks best or feels most natural.

Beading is a tactile and intuitive process, so take time to play, experiment and let your creativity guide you. Don’t be afraid to mix materials or create your own techniques. There’s no right or wrong way to incorporate beads into your art. 

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share my tips and ideas so that members can create a captivating 3D portrait inspired by African beading traditions. By mixing trapunto and intricate beadwork they can form unusual and striking faces with 3D, contoured elements.

I hope students embrace the joy of intuitive creation and see the transformative power of blending materials. More importantly, I want them to experience the magic of creating something deeply personal and see how each step in the journey is as meaningful as the finished piece.  

Wearable embroidery

My garment named Seedling was inspired by a friend and our shared connection to the Cistus plant, which is sometimes called rockrose. We first met because of that plant: she had it in a vase in her studio, and I immediately recognized its amazing wild scent and told her it was my favourite. 

That conversation not only sparked a friendship, but also a jewellery collaboration, and later, a performance featuring this kimono and skirt. 

I wrote a poem for my friend, that blended the story of the rockrose with our own journey and I stitched the poem into the garment. The garment’s colors were inspired by a cave in the countryside where she wore it during our performance. 

I dyed recycled cotton bed linen with mud, indigo and henna. The embroidery was done outdoors during the summer to capture the essence of nature’s textures and spirit. The piece symbolizes a deep intertwining friendship, memory and the natural world. 

Mud dyeing

This body of work is deeply inspired by my life in the hills of the Valencia region, where I embrace a way of living that is closely connected to nature. Every day I walk through the wild landscapes, bathe in and drink fresh water from the mountains and live without electricity or the internet.

When we moved to Spain, we bought a house dating back to 1900. In the barn, I discovered an old, stained canvas which became the foundation for this series. I began experimenting with dyeing and printing using the red mud from the land surrounding the house.

I had been searching for a nude or pinkish tone for my dyework. When I noticed the stunning dark red and brownish mud in the Spanish landscape, I decided to dig a bit and experiment with dyeing fabric. To my delight, it worked beautifully. 

I hang the canvases in the attic and let buckets of fabric and red mud macerate for months. This slow natural process allows the materials to transform over time, creating unique textures and patterns that reflect the essence of the place and its rhythm. 

“Dyeing with mud allows me to connect deeply with the place, transforming a forgotten material into something meaningful and alive with the spirit of its origins.”

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist

Meditative silk landscapes

After injuring myself from years of intensive embroidery on lace for jewellery, I had to pause and step away. These silk panels became my way back to embroidery. Working with silk provided a healing framework by allowing me to use my needle on the soft, delicate fabric without straining my shoulder. I was able to reconnect with my craft gradually and gently.

The silk panels offer a beautiful canvas on which to explore embroidery and colour. I used vintage threads, combining silk, cotton and fine wool to create layers of texture and richness. The process is deeply meditative, and the softness and thinness of the fabric demand patience and care.

Over the past six years, this practice has evolved into an integral part of my creative journey, merging healing and artistry. 

The new gold

I love how I can transform everyday materials into jewellery that is both precious and meaningful. The collection I created for the Seedling project felt like an exciting and effervescent process – it came together over just a few months. 

I embroidered hundreds of seeds collected from making butternut and pumpkin soup every day. The variety of shades and shapes inspired me. I dyed the silk with henna, turmeric and indigo which created a rich, textured finish. 

I think the collection showcases a rare blend of Edwardian elegance and ethnic aesthetics. Each piece has been thoughtfully crafted to evoke the essence of ritualistic objects, embodying the spirit of talismans imbued with meaning and artistry.

People also resonated with the story behind the seeds as being ‘the new gold’. Wearing the embroidered seeds and regarding them as something precious became a beautiful metaphor for valuing the legend of the fertility deity named Kokopelli, as well as bringing attention to a seed saving project that inspired the collection.

These treasured journals, first published in the 1930s, became a catalyst for Darren’s creative journey, their images of so-called ‘women’s work’ sparking his imagination.

He turned to textiles and, working intuitively, began to embroider and embellish rich, jewel-like vignettes, incorporating found and repurposed fabrics, or vintage items such as old handkerchiefs.

Years later he’s still inspired by those magazines. The domestic scale of his work resonates with the traditional domestic pastimes they championed, and reflects his interest in the relationship between making and well-being.

Although Darren looks to bygone times for inspiration, his artworks couldn’t be more contemporary. Find out how he developed a unique approach to exploring narratives through textile art.

Darren Ball: I love exploring textile surface qualities and bringing them together – silk, satin, velvet, sequins, beads and other embellishments – to create a play of light on the materials. I think it is this, rather than a tactile response to textiles, that I particularly enjoy.

My work is domestic and intimate in scale. It encourages closer inspection and consideration. Created on a domestic sewing machine, I use vintage handkerchiefs or textiles as the canvas, and my narratives are fed by their textile qualities.

My collection of magazines and ephemera is central to my work and adds greatly to its individuality. My pieces reference the domestic making of the 1930s and 40s and the current recognition of the importance of well-being and making.

I am particularly interested in the knitting, hand embroidery and fashion found in magazines of that period.

“I exploit these images to create my own narratives from imagination or memory.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Vintage inspiration

My artwork is populated by figures taken from my collection of vintage Stitchcraft magazines given to me by a friend and fellow teacher. They were published from the 1930s onwards and cover all aspects of women’s domestic life.

I had never seen knitting magazines of that age before. I was amazed that they had survived and been treasured for so long. I discovered that they had been kept because there were so many memories tied up in them – hours spent sewing with mothers, sisters and grandmothers – and the intimacy of that shared time.

The draw of domestic life

As a knitter, I loved the beautiful, fitted garments of the period. The magazines provided a window into the everyday lives of women at home in that era.

The magazines and their content formed an intriguing link, bringing me back to the knit that I had studied previously and a new way of using that knowledge.

I found I was much more interested in domestic life and what was often known as ‘women’s work’, and the way it related to my life, rather than any more grandiose subject matter.

A full-time practice

After many years teaching fine art and textiles, having trained in fashion textiles, specialising in hand knit, I now work as a full-time artist. My practice is underpinned by meticulous craftsmanship.

I explore hand knit, appliqué and machine embroidery techniques to achieve my imagery – bringing together methods of making learned over many years. I don’t use any digital embroidery, rather I control the sewing machine with artistry to create completely bespoke pieces. I respond strongly to the materiality of textiles.

“Through my use of vintage magazines, I have found a new visual language – referencing the past in a contemporary way.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Stylistically, I am influenced by the fashion drawings of the 1930s and 40s and their economical use of line, their relationship to free embroidery and their relevance to the Stitchcraft magazines.

I am particularly inspired by the illustrations of Carl Erickson, Christian Bérard and René Gruau. I also love the domestic interior paintings of the artist Edouard Vuillard for his use of colour, pattern and the intimacy of his work.

Tools of my trade

I use a basic Janome domestic sewing machine. It’s the same one that I previously used in school with my textile students. The other must-have is my fabrics.

I source fabrics from my stash, often salvaged from fabric bins in school or from discontinued fabric sample books. I also use vintage materials as these often suggest a narrative for my work.

My use of handkerchiefs references past domestic life and imposes a scale at which to work. Handkerchiefs were still commonly used during my childhood. I transform them thereby adding relevance to the present and the future.

I’m really interested in exploring and contrasting textile surface qualities in my work.

I don’t use any paints or dyes but exploit a collected palette of fabrics and threads that I’ve gathered over the years. These provide rich contrasts of surface as well as a uniquely personal colour palette.

“I try to buy as little new material as possible, to be as sustainable as I can.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Stitch Club embroidery tips

In my Stitch Club workshop, I demonstrate my approach to appliqué and machine embroidery. With the free machine embroidery, I encourage Stitch Club members to consider how detail can be edited and to explore the use of different weights of line for emphasis. If you work by hand, lines can be created using back stitch or something similar.

I have made the workshop as inclusive as possible, keeping the domestic starting points broad, including suggestions of family photos, gardening, food, outings and so on.

I hope that it will give those members new to the processes the confidence to have a go. For those who have some experience of appliqué and machine embroidery, I’m hoping it will encourage them to explore my crisp, graphic approach.

How I work

Everything starts with an idea. I keep a note of these on my phone so I don’t forget them – and they can be saved for a long time before I start on them. I may make work for a particular show or to make use of a handkerchief or fabric that I’ve found.

I’ll look through my collection of Stitchcraft magazines, my vintage French seed pack labels from the 1920s, or whatever subject matter may be appropriate. I choose a selection of images and then narrow them down.

I’ll consider scale and the fabrics I want to use. Then, I simplify the images and bring them together. I hand cut, layer and appliqué the fabrics and add embroidery.

Then I’ll think about how to complete the piece. Usually, I’ll include areas of machine satin stitch to add emphasis and heavier weights of line. Sometimes if a fabric has frayed on the edge, I may use satin stitch to crisp it up.

I don’t do any preliminary drawing but work intuitively into the piece until I feel that it’s complete. I may use beads or sequins for embellishment, enriching the surface further.

Presentation & framing

How I present my work has developed over the years. I view it as art so I frame and mount it in a contemporary way.

Framing also protects the work and emphasises its precious quality, and it also enhances it aesthetically. Mounting a piece behind glass also draws attention to the textiles.

I emphasise the textile quality by leaving the work unstretched with ripples.

I go to an excellent framer who has a really good eye. She makes sensitive suggestions and is more aware of contemporary approaches than me.

Driven by curiosity

I was initially attracted to textiles through a desire to experiment. I remember being inspired by something I’d seen in a magazine, and experimenting with batik and very simple stitch when I was doing A Level art. We didn’t have lots of textiles at home but we did have those craft magazines in the 1980s that you could collect to make a set.

My mum and dad were interested in crafts and making but not in the usual way. I never saw my mum sew anything but she would French polish or paint models. My dad knitted, did macramé and made pin art in the 1980s and later cross-stitched. Like my parents, I enjoyed making.

“I began to see that working with textiles was a way of achieving results that couldn’t be produced in paint.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Pictorial potential

I loved exploring ceramics, jewellery, textiles and painting during my art foundation course. I was always interested in colour, pattern and texture but for me, textiles had the greatest possibilities. I experimented with weave, simple dyeing and embellishment.

I began looking at degree courses and particularly Middlesex Polytechnic (now Middlesex University). It offered a BA Hons Fashion Textiles focusing on knit, weave and woven tapestry but, unlike most textile degrees it didn’t include printed textiles.

When I visited Middlesex, I was stunned by the tapestry work being woven on scaffolding poles. It was bold, ambitious and impressive.

“I discovered the pictorial potential of textiles and using imagery rather than repeated patterns. This was a pivotal point that influenced the art that I make.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Making for myself

After a number of years teaching full time, I wanted to make my own work again. I completed an MA in Textile Culture at Norwich School of Art and Design (now Norwich University of the Arts). It was an art-based course as I wanted to exhibit with galleries rather than design for knit. It was there that I began to make textile art.

“I could see the potential of textiles as an expressive medium and how it could be used conceptually.”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Another important turning point was the decision to start showing and selling my embroidered work. This came about through the same friend, Janis, who had given me the Stitchcraft magazines.

We both taught art full time but decided that if we shared a stand at an art fair we’d have enough work for it. She made hand-built ceramics and I had framed textiles. We both sold pieces and it was the starting point for all my embroidery to date.

I have much to thank Janis for and it was an alliance very much in the spirit of Stitchcraft.

“Judge your artwork’s success by your intentions. Are you pleased with the final result? How can it be developed in the next piece?”

Darren Ball, Textile artist

Giving yourself time

Make work which is individual to you. Everyone is informed by the work that they see around them. Think about how you absorb those influences whilst making your work your own.

Be passionate about your subject matter. It may be completely individual to you or it may be a subject matter that lots of people explore, but tackle it in your own way. You are making work for yourself. It can look any way you want.

I recommend working on several pieces at the same time. They don’t all need to be large scale. This creates a little distance between yourself and the work to allow you to consider the next steps.

Giving yourself time to consider possible developments in a piece is really important. It can also reduce the feeling that you’ve made a wrong decision or spoiled something.

Have pieces of work out or pinned up where you do your making so that you can come across them afresh. This lessens the pressure of feeling that you must finish something before starting a new piece.

It’s also worth keeping work if you think it has gone wrong. You can look back at it to make sure you recognize the problem areas and avoid them next time.

Consider how you want to present your work and explore different options.

After inheriting her great grandfather’s metalwork tools and samples, Emma discovered the beauty and versatility of recycled aluminium. She found that, after cutting, rolling out, engraving and burnishing the metal cans, she could punch holes that enabled her to stitch.

Emma is inspired by plants, insects, human anatomy and even Shakespeare. Her varied subject matter also has links with battle armour and Aztec designs. It includes scarab beetles, breasts with milk ducts and a bejewelled skeletal hand.

Each shimmering work of art is enhanced by the gleam of embroidery threads. Emma loves to embellish her designs with glittering goldwork, glass, metal or ceramic beads, and the occasional Swarovski jewel.

The results are ornate and luminous artworks, deserving of a place in a pharaoh’s tomb.

If you think it would be hard to stitch into metal, you’d be surprised. Emma tells us it’s easy. It just goes to show, you don’t know until you try.

Intrigue, impact & illusion

Tell us about your work exploring intrigue, impact and illusion…

Emma Pannell: I think the intrigue comes from the time when I worked in theatre. When presenting a play or a song, it must entertain and engage an audience.

I started with insects in 2018. They are of constant fascination to me and have symbolic meaning across time and cultures.

While working in the south of France on a creative project in 2022, the opera Die Zauberflöte, an adaptation of The Magic Flute, there were lots of insects around.

I was inspired to design a new collection of insect artworks. I really like French design, and there was something about the opulence of the Renaissance era that I felt would be really interesting to combine with the insects.

“I try to make pieces that are multi-faceted, bold and colourful, and spark curiosity.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

In terms of illusion, using recycled drinks cans in the way I do disguises what they are. The speckled gold colour gives the impression of a very old material and can pass for something ancient. It’s just like how stage costumes and jewellery can look luxurious under theatre lights, when in fact a tiara could be made from painted tinfoil and bits of coloured tissue.

I’m very interested in the concept of transformation: reforging rubbish into something new. In my work, a piece of old metal or material can become something fantastical like a scarab beetle or a bejewelled body part.

Burnishing & manipulating

What made you decide to work with discarded tin cans?

Before leaving home to study an art foundation course in Lincoln, I was given a box that was my great grandfather’s. It contained tools for metal embossing as well as pieces that he’d made. I was immediately taken with the practice. He’d died before I was born and my family are all very practical people, so it was wonderful to discover I had a creative family member.

The metal material that he used was a combination metal and is no longer in production. I found drinks cans to be a good substitute, although I had to figure out a few things for myself and it wasn’t easy finding the right people to consult.

Initially, I struggled with heating the metal and how to apply the heat to achieve a consistent gold colour across the sheet. It was taking me hours to burnish just a few sheets.

It was my dad who helped me: he had a weed burner in his garage and, as the temperature is easier to control, it enabled me to burnish the cans more evenly and quickly.

Perfecting the process of burnishing and manipulating the metal took over ten years.

“I’m fascinated by just how malleable this material is – it’s surprisingly strong and is easy to sew, while being light as a feather.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

Actor, puppeteer, artist

How did you develop your artistic skills?

My great aunt taught me how to sew, and I did an arts foundation year at the University of Lincoln, but I’m mostly self taught.

I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do and had always felt torn between acting and art. When I was studying at Lincoln, my application to progress to a fine art degree course got lost. By the time this was discovered, it was too late and the courses were full.

This left me at a crossroads, so I took a year out. I did some creative work but also applied for drama schools and was accepted onto a course at the University of Salford. While my degree focused on acting, I still ended up doing a lot of making.

I was a pretty hands-on student and ended up painting sets and making puppets. I also did some work in the costume department after taking sewing and garment construction lessons with a fabulous lady, Maureen, who worked there.

I worked as an actor and puppeteer for seven years, doing a lot of theatrical and site-specific work as well. Although I enjoyed the theatre work, I felt like something was missing and took some time out to go travelling. Sporadically, I made art during this time and, despite it feeling like a scary step, I decided to focus more on my art around 2018.

“All of a sudden, I had two solo exhibitions and people were calling me an artist.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

Out of the blue, I received news about an exhibition proposal I had made months earlier, confirming they would give me the space to show my work.

At the same time, I was in the south of France working as an intern at a theatre company, the Centre Artistique International Roy Hart. With encouragement from a friend there, I put together a proposal for a site-specific art exhibition Metal Shakespeare: Alive.

It was an immersive exhibition and theatrical piece based around Shakespeare’s characters, which would be displayed across the old château at the centre. My proposal was quickly accepted. After returning to the UK, I took several months off to create work for the exhibitions and then worked ad-hoc office jobs to support myself.

Much later on, I became interested in hand embroidery and goldwork. It took a while, but eventually, I developed a method to imprint designs and sew them onto the metal.

Although I took the long way round, I think the whole process informed my work for the better.

Symmetry & the golden ratio

Tell us more about your process and techniques…

I’ll start with research, gathering a mood board of ideas and what it is I’m trying to realise. Then I create the paper pattern. Sketching is the first stage of preparing work and is integral to making sure the design is right. For my larger pieces, I make a pattern and sew each part together as if it were a garment.

Each new pattern is drafted numerous times to perfect it. Sometimes I will make up to six drafts before it’s ready to be imprinted, or embossed, onto the metal.

If it’s not quite right and is embossed on the metal, there’s no amending it.

“A lot of my pieces reference symmetry and the golden ratio, which I achieve with graph and tracing paper.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

I cut the cans, roll them to flatten them and then burnish. Burnishing, or smoking the metal as I like to think of it, changes its colour. This is a tentative process. If the aluminium overheats, it turns a dark silver colour and becomes brittle and unusable.

I then re-cut the sheet, apply the design to the back, hammer and sew it. I hammer the holes using a pottery knife and hammer.

If it’s a three dimensional work, I’ll build the base with felt and outline with purl pearl goldwork wire.

If I’m making a large piece and need to join pieces of metal together, I sew them. Sometimes the sewing joins are on show like Remondé – the Red Beetle or the Ulysses Butterfly. Others have a seam allowance, and are sewn together and pressed down on the inside, like Ophelia: both headpiece and necklace are four cans joined on each side.

For my first sculpture, I made a headpiece (part of Metal Shakespeare) for Tamora, Queen of the Goths, which I superglued, which resulted in a lot of stuck-together fingers.

When I begin to sew the details, even if I’ve made a plan beforehand I’ll quite often improvise as I go. For me, it’s really important to make pieces that are visually interesting, so I include small details that become apparent when looking closer.

I like to use different textured thread, such as matte next to metallic, as they catch the light in different ways. I use varied beading to add contrast and to create intricate designs that are best seen close up.

Goldwork & beading

What are your must-have tools or supplies?

I still use my great grandfather’s tools, as well as ones I’ve picked up over the years. These range from pottery, metal embossing, sewing and embroidery tools. I also have some nail art tools which have proven useful. A lot of these I found through craft shops and specialist embroidery sellers.

Because I’m drawn to using texture, I use a lot of goldwork materials such as a finely coiled copper wire which I source from India. This has several different names and can be coiled in a variety of ways to make smooth, matte and twisted effects.

There’s one called nakshi (also called bright check purl). It’s crinkled and creates a glittering element. This one bends like crazy so it can be hard to use in longer lengths, but is really beautiful when cut into small pieces, almost like beads. I like to use a variation of goldwork wires to add depth and texture.

In the last few years, beading has become more prevalent in my work. It’s been an interesting challenge to source beads responsibly. I try to use as little plastic as possible, so the beads I use are brass, ceramic, glass and semi-precious stones, such as freshwater pearl, turquoise and coral. I get a lot from India.

“Where I can, I buy second hand and I’m always on the lookout for jewellery I can repurpose.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

These days I use a lot more glass crystals, just through preference and availability. Swarovski jewels appear in my work for special occasions. I might use them for beetles and other animals such as in my work Last Nightingale. The reflection and twinkle of the beads is perfect for creating eyes.

In terms of embroidery silks, I use DMC branded stranded embroidery cotton threads. These are a bit glossier than other brands and better to work with when using the metal.

As our fingertips have a natural oil, this can mark the metal, so when working with copper wires, I wear cotton gloves. I tried using copper sheet metal, but only for a short time, as it was quite fiddly and marked easily.

Stitch Club challenges

Tell us about the workshop you created for Stitch Club…

The artworks I made for my workshop are 2D, based on some original pieces inspired by the kingdom of living things.

In the workshop, I share my process for working with recycled aluminium drink cans. Only this type of can has the right level of thickness and flexibility. Admittedly, it’s an unusual material to sew onto, but one that I’ve built my practice around and can’t imagine working without.

“My aim is for Stitch Club members to gain a new skill in working with this alternative material.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

The Last Nightingale

Which piece of your textile art is your most favourite?

Oh, that’s a tricky one! I’ve been lucky to take some of my work overseas. My piece Remondé – Red Pod Beetle was displayed with the work of 67 international artists at the Society for Embroidered Work Surface and Depth Show at Palazzo Velli Expo, for Rome Art Week in 2021. It was part of a dedicated embroidery exhibition celebrating texture.

Although I was not able to be there in person, it was inspiring to discover textile artists who used embroidery in so many diverse ways.

But I think my most favourite artwork would have to be The Last Nightingale which I made for the open exhibition at HOME Manchester in 2022. This referenced The Nightingale by Hans Christian Andersen, a story about a Chinese emperor who falls in love with the nightingale’s song and is gifted a mechanical bird.

I was struck by the fact that, in real life, nightingale birds are experiencing difficulty, as their numbers are currently threatened.

“I wanted to make a piece that reflected the ornate nature of the mechanical bird in the story, but would hopefully make people think.“

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

While making the nightingale piece, I had to sew the two halves of the body separately. It was integral to the piece that these matched up when sewn together. This took careful planning in the pattern making process, as well as double and triple checks while sewing.

The embroidery on the body resembles the bird’s musical nature. I wanted to create a melodic feel to it as if its notes were travelling on the wind, and I was inspired by Art Nouveau and impressionist design for this element.

The wings are made out of metal, and embellished with glass beads and stones. Balancing the weight of these was important as they had to support themselves and not crush the main body.

It was a pleasant surprise to find that when someone walked past the vibrations would make the wings move, as if fluttering.

Although it’s a smaller piece, I’m very fond of it – just as I am of the real bird.

Puzzle pieces

How has your work developed and what direction do you think it will take in the future?

I think my work has become more playful. I learned to embroider on metal, and not fabric, so my early work focused more on shapes and bringing the subjects to life.

As I continue, designs have become more complex and tend to be multi-layered, using metal and material interchangeably to create a completely new surface. Pieces have also grown bigger.

I enjoy setting myself challenges, especially when I’m not quite sure how a piece will fit together. It’s like a puzzle that I have to find the answer to.

My project Art of Anatomy, presented as a work in progress at the Didsbury Parsonage in Manchester in 2024, is inspired by the original illustrations from Gray’s Anatomy medical text. I’m very interested in the jobs that the body does and the many layers that make us.

I’ve examined the idea of belief. Inspired by design and symbology from cultures across the globe (including Egyptian, Ottoman, Amazigh, Indian and Aztec), I purposefully juxtaposed them together. This collection of work aims to re-frame parts of the body as sacred objects.

Mistakes & experiments

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

My advice would be to enjoy playing with the materials and then relish the mistakes.

It’s all a learning curve. I would encourage them to follow their impulses and develop work that inspires them. I watched a lot of YouTube tutorials, read sewing and embroidery books, and made a point of going to specialist exhibitions and museums to see work up close.

“Experimental samples very often don’t look impressive but they are always useful learning points.”

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

Before starting a piece of work, I experiment with sewing techniques and materials.

I have yet to find anyone who works with metal and embroidery in the way I do. In the beginning, this was hard as I had to figure things out for myself, but I also think it got me to where I am today.

Stitched work is such a useful, varied and versatile skill, and can be applied to a myriad of textures and materials. It never ceases to amaze me. To me, embroidery is one of the oldest expressions of art.

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 

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

But what really excites Beatrice about these sparks of inspiration is abstracting them to create rich, multi-faceted, hand embellished surfaces. Whether it’s working on an embroidery commission for our TV screens or a jewel-like piece of wearable art, sampling, collaboration and exploring processes are key.

And in her personal work, she aims to flip expectations of what embroidery can be, creating minimal textile works using maximalist techniques, as well as upcycling as many materials as she can.

Nothing, she says, is ever a waste of time. Nor can you waste materials. It’s simply a case of repurposing and re-imagining everything and discovering real creative freedom in doing so.

Beatrice has followed her heart and perfected her craft – as well as learning how to say yes to almost everything, even when she’s not sure she can do it – something we can all learn from.

Abstract marks

Beatrice Mayfield: I’m a textile artist specialising in hand constructed, embellished and embroidered textiles. I produce one-off artworks and wearable art pieces. My work combines contemporary design with a range of traditional embroidery techniques, stitches and processes. All incorporate a high level of craftsmanship.

My work is abstract and heavily inspired by the landscape of London, where I live. I’m particularly influenced by the concrete buildings of Brutalist architecture, such as the Brunswick Centre and the National Theatre, as well as urban green spaces, like Hampstead Heath and Regent’s Park.

I love the juxtaposition of architecture and nature thriving side by side. When I look at the colours and textures that can be found on raw concrete as it ages and then those in the natural landscape – on a piece of bark or lichen for example – the two are often very similar.

My work isn’t precise, but it does use contrast, texture and the idea of the hand. 

I love making work that is abstract and minimal – often the opposite of how hand embroidery and embellishment are meant to be. I also like to explore scale – how to scale up stitches or create surfaces that form entire surfaces rather simply than as decoration. And I love flowers – their structure and texture and how they are constructed.

Seeing clearly

I abstract everything. I tend to think of my work as creating surfaces, adding layers to existing surfaces and building up texture. It’s never about recording a landscape or a flower.

Looking properly is key. Seeing how a flower is constructed: how does it open, bloom, wither, and break down? The changes in colour, scale and texture really fascinate me. 

The same goes for landscapes – both the natural landscape and the built environment of London. How do they change year on year? How does that skyline change? What does that do to the sky? How do shadows change because of it? This is the type of thing I notice. 

Then I’m looking at the opposite – the micro – the surface of the pavement that I walk on every day, the changes to a wall or fence over time.

I take a lot of photos and keep them on my phone as a record. From these I create collages. I might blow something up, cut it up, overlay it, paint on it, then scan it and start all over again. 

The details come by working in stitch. My embroidery frame or hoop is my sketchbook and fabric is my paper. I work very intuitively. My work is abstract and textured.

It’s so difficult to articulate why I love what I do. It blocks out everything else, even when I’m working on a commission piece to a tight deadline.

‘When I’m stitching, I can lose hours.’

Beatrice Mayfield, Textile artist

Towards sustainability

I collect fabrics, beads, papers, threads – anything I can sew with and that will create texture or contrast. 

For the last few years, I’ve been trying to use as much deadstock or donated threads, beads and fabrics as I can. I’m probably about 60 per cent there. I tend to get deadstock fabric from the New Craft House, a store in Hackney, London, selling designer deadstock fabrics and haberdashery. 

For commissions, however, this isn’t always possible, so then I try to source natural fibres, such as linen or wool yarns. I often use yarns from the Handweavers Studio in London, as they do interesting blends and it’s close to where I live.  I love pure silk embroidery thread, especially Au Ver à Soie threads: the feel of them is beautiful and they have a great range of colours. 

I’ll use any bead, and have a huge collection. If I have to buy new then I tend to use online sources such as Creative Beadcraft, Peppy Beads or Spoilt Rotten Beads. I also like using natural materials, such as real or dried flowers or horsehair. My favourite haberdasheries are Ultramod Mercerie and the Mokuba ribbon store, both located in Paris.

Learning by making

While on my foundation course, we had a lecturer who made us tear up our work at the end of the day or draw onto a surface that would be wiped clean at the end. I learnt so much from this.

I learnt to appreciate the process of making and that the final piece isn’t necessarily the most important part. This is why sampling and trying things out is key for me – and enjoyable. 

Sometimes samples don’t work. The final pieces might not work. Cutting pieces up and then re-using them is all part of the making process. Everything comes back to looking closely.

As a maker, you have to find your voice, which can take time. Notice what grabs you: detail, texture, colour? Is your style illustrative? Do you like to tell stories? Keep exploring this. Then you work out which techniques or materials you can really exploit to help you develop this voice.

‘Don’t be precious about your work and don’t think you’ve failed if something doesn’t work the first time.’

Beatrice Mayfield, Textile artist

Playing to strengths

As an embroidered, it’s natural to collaborate and I undertake a lot of bespoke commissioned work for clients. The embroidery is normally just one element – it has to go on something, so you are often working collaboratively as part of a team. I’m often working alongside other experts, so it’s not just about doing what I want. 

As I like working to a large scale, I need help to complete projects. So, as well as working with a team of embroiderers on other projects, I’m used to people working for me. I think it really helps that I have experience doing bespoke work as well as commissioning and curating.

My major collaborator is the digital embroiderer Jacky Puzey. We met about ten years ago. I thought what she was doing with digital embroidery was amazing. It’s unique. I respect her skill level although it’s not something I’d ever want to do. She was looking to add depth to some pieces, so she spoke to me about introducing beading into her work. 

We have quite a similar approach and a huge amount of respect for each other’s work, so it’s about each playing to their skills. We’ve worked on numerous interiors, art, fashion and film projects together. 

The piece for the HBO fantasy drama ‘House of the Dragon’ came via Jacky but was very much a collaboration. Jacky is based in Bristol and I’m in London so a lot of our collaboration is done via video calls and many, many photographs.

Stitcher of dragons

The brief for the House of the Dragon piece was to create a banner that depicts the sigil – a three-headed dragon – of the ruling family. We were given the outline of the motif and told it needed to relate to and have a connection with, similar themes to the television show ‘Game of Thrones’. 

It had to measure two square metres (21½ sq. ft). At that point, they didn’t know how it would be lit and they wanted it to appear antique, as if it had been part of the family for years. Filming was taking place as we were making it and we only had three months for design, sampling and making. 

Jacky started with the illustration, sourcing dragon-like surfaces, colours, patterns and textures from past pieces. I was given the image of a key embroidery surface used in ‘Game of Thrones’ by the artist costume embroiderer Michele Carragher – this was quite intimidating as her work throughout the whole series was amazing. 

I was sent an image of a sample for one of the costumes for Daenerys – Mother of Dragons. I had to be careful not to copy it, but to use it as a reference and interpret it.

I created samples on small areas of digital embroidery – trying out colours, different types of beads, cording and edging for the wings while oxidising beads and breaking down surfaces. We had lots of conversations throughout the whole process. Jacky was digitising designs and sharing her progress every day. Then I was sampling and working on the final pieces.

I had ten days for beading the finished piece. I used a mix of beads – Tila beads, which were a reference to the sample by Michele Carragher, demi toho beads (like rings) and a variety of different sized seed beads.

I used a mix of colours. In the beginning, these were very matt, but two days from the end, the commissioners decided it would be lit by candlelight so I had to add in more reflective and shiny beads. It was very twinkly by the end – and there were even beads on the dragon’s teeth and tongues.

The wings were corded. I used a range of thicknesses to get height – from rat tails to upholstery cord, which were couched or slip stitched. The ends had to be bound as I couldn’t plunge the cord ends through Jacky’s embroidery.

Although it was just on screen for a matter of seconds, it was a lovely project and one which I think played to both our strengths and skill sets.

Finding my place

When I was small my grandmother used to make dolls’ clothes for me. I was fascinated by the French seams – as well as the handmade buttonholes. It was all about the finish and precision.

Making things was always encouraged. I learnt to sew, embroider and knit at primary school and at home. I really started to get into textiles through making my own clothes when I was in my teens. 

I’ve always been interested in the importance of place. My foundation course led to a degree in Public Art at Chelsea College of Art. There I was creating large scale constructed textile pieces, using hand printing, painting with fabric dye, free machine embroidery and hand stitch.

Although I didn’t particularly enjoy my degree, I did learn a lot about working as a team, working with clients and to commission. We undertook a lot of live projects, which meant working to deadlines and seeing work being made for existing places and sites. I also made lifelong friends there.

After graduating, I went on to work for Common Ground, a grassroots organisation connecting people with nature, on projects that celebrated the local distinctiveness of places through art. I was working on the commission side of public art, which led to curating and then working with makers to develop their careers. 

Although I was very much in the craft sector and I was always making, my own personal art practice wasn’t my main focus.

Following my heart

About 12 years ago, I realised how much I wanted my own practice back. I did a few short courses in hand embroidery to bring my skills up to scratch. I then spent a year focussing on upskilling – learning traditional stitches through courses at the Royal School of Needlework and Central Saint Martins. I also studied couture work such as tambour, beading and other techniques with Elisabeth Rouleau, a French couture embroiderer.

I loved these short courses and developing my hand embroidery skills. Coming back to learning after such a long time and being able to do something for myself was liberating. I was the one deciding what courses to do as well as learning the skills I wanted. In a way, it was a bit like designing my own MA.

By then, I knew much more about the industry and sector I wanted to work in, plus how to run a creative practice. So in some ways, I felt confident, however, I also suffer from the worst impostor syndrome!

‘Returning to my own art practice means I push myself harder and say yes to nearly everything I’m offered – even if I’m not sure I can do it.’

Beatrice Mayfield, Textile artist

Andy Warhol’s famous quote could be straight out of the mouth of Lauren Austin. Perhaps all true artists simply love making art for art’s sake.

Lauren began making quilts with her family at the age of seven and continued throughout her adult life whenever she could, in her spare time. After working as a computer consultant and then attending law school, she became a human rights lawyer and lecturer.

But one day, when she found herself thinking about fabric colour-matching while teaching her law students, she realised she couldn’t lead two lives.

A timely invitation to submit a quilt for a big show was the catalyst she needed to switch careers.

Today, Lauren is known for her quilts honouring her ancestors, family and friends. Along the way, she’s broken boundaries, fostering an unconventional array of techniques not usually associated with quilting, including stone lithography and beading.

All of which results in unique, effervescent works that speak to her life as an African American female artist. We delve into how Lauren manages a full-time career working on her art quilts – all from her apartment in Florida, USA.

Making quilting a priority

Lauren Austin: I call myself a ‘quiltist’, by which I mean a quilt artist, but I’m also a storyteller and instructor.

I use family photos and my hand-dyed, printed and painted fabric to make quilts and prints about my life as an African American woman artist, and about my obsessions with birds and leaves.

“Quilts are how I honour my ancestors, my family and friends. Making quilts keeps me alert, active and interacting with the world.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

A variety of different art methods add design and interest to my work, including raku-fired ceramic masks, retro photochemical processes like cyanoprint, and etching and burning fabric to create complex surface design.

Until 2004, I worked in other jobs, as a US foreign service officer, computer consultant and later as a human rights lawyer. While working in those jobs I made quilts at night and on the weekends.

That year I had an epiphany. I was explaining a law term to a group of students, while at the same time, my mind was on my art. I was thinking ‘Yellow next to magenta is so sparkly, how is that possible?’. It was like I was two people in one – I found myself thinking this can’t go on.

Soon after that, the curator, artist and founder of the Women of Color Quilters Network (WCQN), Dr Carolyn Mazloomi, called me. She was putting together a big show called Threads of Faith and invited me to contribute a quilt.

I hadn’t made a quilt in two or three years. I put my head on my desk and cried. An opportunity appeared, but I had nothing made.

I went home and told my husband. He said (or rather I heard): ‘You have to give it up, it’s too hard’. That’s the only time I considered divorce.

GIVE UP QUILTING??!! My husband stopped me and said no, it was time to stop that other stuff and just do the quilting. He is the best husband.

“I took my husband’s advice, quit my job and went to quilting full-time. It was hard – I had to hunt down teaching art gigs and commissions, but it was the best thing I ever did.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

Right now, I live and work with my husband in an apartment that is three-parts studio and one-part living space in Maitland, Florida, outside of Orlando. I work nine to five and treat my art quilt practice as a career.

I like working at home. It saves money, and it’s great to have all my tools and supplies available 24/7. One bedroom is a work area for linoleum and woodblock carving, and the other is a bedroom and living room. I have a longarm machine, two other sewing machines and several large design walls.

I’m lucky to have a life partner who is happy with this arrangement. By living within the workspace, I’m able to sit with my experiments and tweak them constantly. It’s a good setup for me. We have a nice, screened porch with plants and a lake at the back with birds, frogs and the occasional alligator.

My learning legacy

My mother, Elizabeth R Turner, was a lifelong learner and reader. My mother’s people were teachers. My maternal grandmother was one of the first black librarians in Chicago. My legacy from all of them is to learn new things all the time, forever.

My mother’s response to any idea or question I had was: ‘There’s a book in the library to help you do what you want to do’, and we would go to the library to find it. Searching for information and experimenting became second nature in life and in art. It brought me deep into quilting at a young age, leading to the creation of my first quilt.

“This philosophy of lifelong learning led me to see how different art-making ways could be used on fabric and incorporated in quilts.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I was also greatly influenced by the group of textile artists that were my mother’s friends. These women came to our house every Tuesday evening to sew or make crafts together. Each one worked on her own projects, and sometimes they worked on a project together.

They told stories, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company while making things. The feeling of touching fabric and sharing friendship are intertwined for me.

Kindness of teachers

Artistic development happens in many ways. No one approach has ever been enough for me. I was lucky to find people who were generous in giving their time, willing to share their skills if I wanted to learn, yet be open to applying their techniques to fabric.

I always found teachers who were strong and comfortable in their own art, so they didn’t want to change my aesthetic or force me to make exactly what they made.

For example, I learned the stone lithography printing technique from Charles Criner, who had only ever made prints on paper. This was during a hard time in my life. My husband was sick, and the printmaking was a respite from caregiving. Charles made sure that I didn’t have to worry about paper or tools and often bought me lunch at a time when I didn’t have money to spare.

“Charles never told me what to make. I am ever grateful for his kindness and for giving me the opportunity to learn. This is what art experiments can do.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I made many drawings and prints in his studio, amassing a pile of paper prints that I liked, but with no idea how to use them. I asked Charles if I could print on fabric. Even though he’d never done so, he was open to the experiment and pleased with my results.

He had a more traditional view of quilts but came around to my way of making because of our work together. Even though his drawings and paintings had a similar background – black life and black history – they were very different from mine.

I’m also proud of the five years I spent living in Ningbo and Shanghai, China, working with other artists, learning about Chinese textile work, and experimenting with screen printing and dye painting on fabric.

I learned to make traditional Chinese baby shoes from a friend’s mother – she spoke no English and I spoke no Chinese. With patience, gestures, laughter and good strong tea, I spent several months of Saturdays sewing shoes for my first granddaughter.

Stitching black history

When I started out, I made a lot of quilts with images of African American history.

I’ve been a longtime member of the WCQN. Dr Mazloomi puts out a call for work on a certain topic and the artists respond to the topic. Her show and book And Still We Rise was a timeline of African American history from 1619 to the present, and for this exhibition, I made two pieces about Florida’s Black history.

His Instruments of Justice was about Harry T Moore, of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), who was murdered because of his work advocating for black people.

We Hid in the Woods and the Swamp was about the Rosewood massacre in 1923. I suggested Rosewood and Harry T Moore as subjects because Florida’s Black history is so complicated and mostly unknown. His Instruments of Justice is now in the collection of the Smithsonian Museum of American Art/Renwick Gallery.

I made these pieces while living in Shanghai and feeling homesick for Florida Black life. Making the pieces was a great way to stay close to my people, and to show my friends in my new home what my culture and history were about.

Sharing my work prompted my studio mate, Nini Sun, to ask me what I would make if I just made the art in my head, without a purpose in mind. It was an amazing ‘aha’ moment and unleashed a flurry of art-making that has been with me ever since.

I still make themed work – there are too many historic and important stories about black people all over the world that call to me to make something – but I now listen to my inner voice much more than ever.

“I want people to see the diversity of my experience as a black woman: that I have many facets that make up ‘me’.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I think of my work as very personal self-expression. It isn’t theory or experimentation for the sake of saying ‘I can do this’. The processes serve to explore and show who I am now and how I got to this place.

Family stories

Idea development is both planned and intuitive. I work with issues I’m obsessed with – maybe a current event, maybe a deep dive into my feelings about something or someone.

For many years I’ve made pieces using my family photos going back seven generations but, as I age, it becomes more urgent that I make more, to be sure my descendants will understand who I was when I’m not here anymore.

I love making work about my family because they can give me a true response to my choices and how the work fits with their recollections. I sent photos of Beth’s Indoor Garden to my cousin while I was working on it. I didn’t say what it was about, or anything other than look what I’m working on!

I made the original sketches with a particular photo of my mom in mind where she is sitting at her dining room table with her cat, surrounded by her favourite potted plants. I thought I was done with the piece – that’s the point I usually show work to someone else.

My cousin looked at it and said: ‘That’s Aunt Beth! Excellent! Where’s the crossword puzzle?’. I just laughed! It’s such a joy when people recognise what you’re aiming for. Most of the time they will add something I hadn’t thought of, and that’s what happened here.

My mom always did the New York Times’ crossword puzzle at that table. I was able to go back and add a folded crossword puzzle page, and the work was complete.

My People: All Who Wander are not Lost was made as a memorial to my sister’s friend Susanne Davis, for her son Steven. Steven found the quilt top in her effects after she passed away. Susanne had dyed the fabric, Steven gave it to me and I quilted it for him.

Nature inspirations

In Mr Turner’s Dragons, I made a woodcut carving of my maternal grandfather, Alexander Laurent Turner. I’ve been looking at this photo and frame since I was small.

It sits on my ancestor altar in my home. I made a woodcut of the photo, with plans to print it on paper and fabric.

I also focus on nature and combine this with my family work. I spend time photographing plants for reference material and drawing objects and people that might go into a piece someday.

I like using printmaking and dyeing fabric in support of this. Experimenting with the process gives me natural looking palettes and imagery, which then becomes a piece about my mother and her potted plants, such as in Beth’s Indoor Garden, or my father’s sister in her prom dress in an abstract forest that became Queen of the Forest.

I’m always researching black history for new material – stories about black people in nature are particularly important these days. For example, I once spent the day in a gun shop drawing an antique gun of the make used by the Buffalo Soldiers, the black soldiers who made up the 9th and 10th Cavalry Regiments.

This drawing became a pattern for the pistol in View from a Camp Table, a still life about the Buffalo Soldiers. This work is now in the collection of The James Museum of Western & Wildlife Art in St Petersburg, Florida.

Sketch to stitch

I draw in a sketchbook all the time. Some sketches turn into quilts, either by scanning the drawing and printing it on fabric; by making a woodblock carving of the image that is printed on fabric; or fashioning a large scale figurative piece that starts from the sketch.

I started out hand piecing and quilting. I hand stitched many quilts, including king size quilts for my family. Now, I mostly use the machine for quilting because I do so many layers, and need the speed and efficiency to get through all the fabric I’m sewing.

I still use hand quilting and hand embroidery in my work. I love the textures created by handwork. Hand beading is really where I put in hundreds of hours. All the beading you see in my work is hand sewn by me. Beading is soothing and magical.

I use glow in the dark beads a lot. I can take it anywhere – doctors’ offices, gatherings – wherever I am I have a little bag with hand sewing, embroidery and beading supplies.

In my figurative work, I will start out drawing a large-scale image on a wall sized piece of paper. I like the images created this way – I must use my whole body to draw, not just my wrist and hand. My back, shoulders and whole arm are involved, and the lines are big, sweeping gestures.

When I have an image I like, I cut the paper into the shapes I’ve created and use these as patterns for the fabric. I sew the parts as mini quilts, the arms and legs, the faces, and then appliqué them to my background.

I may quilt the background first and then appliqué the figures on top, or I may save the quilting for last. Embellishments are usually added at the end – beading, couching and small 3D pieces that can stick out from the picture plane.

Artmaking for me is more than ‘sketch it out and reproduce the sketch’.

“I deliberately give myself time to respond to what I’ve made so far, and things then change within the piece. The result will be better than the original sketch or thought.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I trust my process. I also understand that the work will never look like it does inside my head, and I’ve learned to accept that fact and be happy with the outcome.

Favourite materials

I love mixing dyes and experiencing the surprise of colour when the final work is removed from the washer or dryer and the tie dye is unbundled. It probably won’t be what I envisioned, but that’s a good thing.

I have to work with what I have. Everything can be overdyed or overprinted to add more texture, more interest and to be useful – if not in this piece, then in future work.

I have a huge stash of fabric, mostly West African prints and my own hand dyed yardage. I also like vintage dress fabrics, especially silk and handmade lace. I know I can make more yardage in any shade I need, though I first try to use what I have. Okay, it’s an aspiration!

I buy white PFD (prepared for dyeing) yardage and fibre reactive dyes from Dharma Trading. Most of my threads come from Superior Threads and I use Warm Company’s Warm & White Batting that I buy by the bolt.

These suppliers have come through with quality goods for me for over 20 years, so I stray very little from what they make. I’ll try something new, but these are the ones I count on for my day-to-day work.

Make time for your art

I would say to any would-be artists, believe in yourself. Trust yourself. Listen to your heart. Critique yourself but be kind to yourself.

“Make work that comes out of your head. Don’t worry about the message – just make it!”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I have worked for a long time in the arts, and I still get ‘suggestions’ from others – what to make, how to market, all sorts of unsolicited ideas from people who make art and from those who do not.

I listen and then mostly ignore what people tell me. I know what I need to do: I just must make time to do it.

When I trusted myself to know what I needed to do, say sketching in public while on the subway, I became braver than I had been before. It ceased being important how people reacted to the work or to me, and became more about concentrating on what I was learning from teaching myself.

This is how I develop, change what I do and still stay true to my vision and to who I am. Aspiring artists, this approach will work for you!

“Caring less about what people think means I can experiment more, learn more, and come up with new ideas and work.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

Much of that early stitchwork was practical in nature, particularly to create clothing. As materials and techniques changed over time, distinctive cultural approaches to design, colour, and embellishment came to life

Textile art played an increasingly important role in expressing cultural histories, folklore, religious narratives, community organisation and family values. Thankfully, many of those textile traditions are alive and well.

Below is a list of books that literally takes you across time and geography. And you won’t have to buy a plane ticket! We start in North America with African American and Native American traditions. Then we head to the African continent, followed by a trek through Asian and Middle Eastern textile techniques. We even have a stop in Mexico.

All of these books feature gorgeous imagery and stories that are both breathtaking and inspirational. So, join us in celebrating the diversity of stitching across the globe.

The quilts of Gee’s Bend

The women of Gee’s Bend in southern Alabama (USA) have been creating vibrant quilts since the early 19^th century. Award-winning author Susan Goldman Rubin explores the history and culture of this fascinating group of women and their unique quilting traditions.

They are especially known for repurposing fabrics in remarkable ways, including old overalls, aprons, and bleached cornmeal sacks. Much to the women’s surprise, a selection of their quilts were featured in a travelling exhibition in 2002.

A New York Times critic reviewing that exhibition described their work as ‘eye-poppingly gorgeous and some of the most miraculous works of modern art America has ever produced’.

The quilts of Gee’s Bend by Susan Goldman Rubin (2017)
^{ISBN 9781419721311} 

Sewing and survival

This book offers a researched narrative based on original sources, diaries, personal letters and other notes highlighting Native American voices. Indigenous Americans have been sewing, weaving, making pottery and other crafts for thousands of years. But ongoing attacks on Native American cultures in the late 1800’s promoted a fascinating shift toward quilt making.

While quilting skills were forced on some women, others willingly took on the craft. It’s compelling to learn that quilting within the Native American culture continued to gain popularity to the point where quilts now serve as cornerstones of many Indigenous give-away traditions.

Author Teresa Wong expertly walks readers through this historical and artistic quilting evolution. Powerful narratives complement images of over 60 quilts, as well as images of significant historical events and portraits of artists and collectors.

The book is available from the author’s website and can be shipped to addresses in Canada, USA, Japan, EU, UK and Australia. The author donates $4 for every book sold to the American Indian College Fund.

Sewing and survival: Native American Quilts from 1880–2022 by Teresa Duryea Wong (2023)
^{Published by Third Floor Quilts}

Colour and creativity across a continent

Traditional handcrafted African textiles are sumptuous, intricate, and steeped in cultural significance. Readers will be introduced to an incredible range of handmade textile techniques found across the African continent.

These include the gorgeous strip weaves of the Ashanti and Ewe, lace weaves of the Yoruba, and mud cloths from Mali and West Africa. The book also explores Berber weaves from Morocco, beadwork from the Zulu, Xhosa, and Ndebele people, and the crocheted, embroidered, and feathered hats from Cameroon.

The book features over 570 colour photographs that complement in-depth information about the influences of religion, culture, trade, tradition, fashion and the changing role of women artists on African textile art. It ends with a guide to public African textile collections, as well as a glossary and suggestions for further reading.

African textiles: Colour and creativity across a continent by John Gillow (2016)
^{ISBN 9780500292211}

Sustainable textiles and mindful making

‘Kantha’ is believed to have originated from the Sanskrit word kontha, which means rags. It refers to both the style of running stitch, as well as the finished quilted cloth made from layers of cast-off fabric embroidered with threads pulled from old saris and dhotis.

Author Ekta Kaul explores this rich tradition through objects of extraordinary beauty that were created to be given as gifts or for use in life event rituals, such as marriage and childbirth. 

Steeped in the ethos of sustainability, emotional repair and mindful making, this book showcases inspiring interpretations of the kantha spirit and discusses creative techniques for readers to develop their own kantha. A dictionary of fundamental kantha stitches with supporting images and instructions is included.

Ekta Kaul grew up in India and trained at India’s National Institute of Design. She received a Masters in Textiles in the UK, and has lived in Edinburgh, Bath, Ahmedabad, Delhi and London. Ekta says living in so many vibrant cities provided a wonderful education in celebrating plurality of perspectives, helping to develop her unique creative style.

Kantha: Sustainable Textiles and Mindful Making by Ekta Kaul (2024)
^{ISBN 9781789940435}

Threads of awakening

When Leslie Rinchen-Wongmo set out to travel the world, little did she know she’d get sidetracked in a Himalayan sewing workshop. Ironically, that sidetrack proved to be her necessary life path.

Equal parts art book, memoir and spiritual travelogue, Leslie shares her experience as a Californian woman travelling to the seat of the Tibetan government-in-exile in India to manage an economic development fund, only to wind up sewing pictures of Buddha instead. 

Tibetans have been creating sacred images from pieces of silk for more than 500 years. Much rarer than paintings and sculptures, these stitched fabric thangkas are among Tibet’s finest artworks. Leslie reveals the unique stitches of an ancient needlework tradition, introduces the Buddhist deities, and shares insights into the compassion, interdependence and possibility they embody.

Leslie Rinchen-Wongmo is a textile artist, teacher and author. She offers an online hands-on apprentice program called Stitching Buddhas that bridges East and West, traditional and contemporary.

Threads of awakening: An American woman’s journey into Tibet’s sacred textile art by Leslie Rinchen-Wongmo (2022)
^{ISBN 9781647420932}

Hmong story cloths

The Hmong people from the country of Laos have a rich tradition of creating story cloths to document their history and cultural legacy. Subjects for the cloths include traditional life in Laos, the Hmong New Year, folk tales and neighbouring peoples.

The Hmong first began making story cloths during their time in refugee camps. Story cloths begin with selecting fabrics and outlining images onto a backing cloth. Fabrics are then cut into the various shapes and appliquéd using intricate satin stitches. Borders are then pieced together and hand stitched. 

This beautiful book features 48 vibrant story cloths that provide a comprehensive look into the makers’ lives and culture. Readers will also find personal stories and artefacts that make this a great book for both history buffs and textile artists.

Hmong story cloths: Preserving historical & cultural treasures by Linda Gerdner (2015)
^{ISBN 9780764348594}

The art of Korean textiles

Bojagi, sometimes called pojagi, is the traditional Korean art of making textile wrapping cloths from exquisitely patchworked fabrics. The careful arrangement of pieces of cloth allows the maker to build unique abstract compositions, which is why this technique often appeals to textile artists and quilters.

In this book, artist and author Youngmin Lee shares the history of this art form and its place in Korean culture. You’ll discover bojagi hand stitch techniques, seam finishes and decorative motifs through a variety of contemporary and beautifully-illustrated projects.

Youngmin Lee is a Korean-born textile artist and educator based in California, USA. In 2017, she founded the Korean Textile Tour, an educational trip for textile enthusiasts. Youngmin has exhibited in the USA and internationally, including at the De Young Open Exhibition, San Francisco, in 2023-2024.

Bojagi: The art of Korean textiles by Youngmin Lee (2024)
^{ISBN 9781789941838}

Shibori for textile artists

Shibori is one of the world’s richest textile traditions. While commonly associated with Japan, the technique has been long used in Africa, India and South America. In this practical guide, textile artist Janice Gunner shows how to combine all geographic shibori methods with contemporary techniques to create stunning textiles bursting with rich intricate patterns and bold colour.

Various creative approaches are clearly explained and illustrated, including tied and stitched designs, folding, clamping, pleating and binding. Simple and safe instructions for a range of dyeing techniques are also provided.

Janice Gunner is an award-winning stitched textile artist, quilter and author. She is a renowned expert on Japanese textile art and was recently awarded The Quilters’ Guild of the British Isles Education and Travel Bursary.

Shibori for textile artists by Janice Gunner (2018)
^{ISBN 9781849945301}

The fabric of life

From the intricate embroidery on a Palestinian wedding dress to the complex iconography on an Afghan war rug, textiles from the Middle East and Central Asia reflect their makers’ diverse beliefs, practices and experiences. This book explores the significance and beauty of textiles from across the vast area and is arranged thematically to enable cross-regional comparisons of the function and symbolic meaning of textiles.

Each chapter focuses on key life events, such as childhood, marriage, ceremony, religion and belief, and homestead. Featured textiles include garments, hats and headdresses, mosque curtains and prayer mats, floor coverings, tent hangings, hand towels, cushions, storage sacks, amulets and much more.

Contemporary works that grapple with modern political issues are also included. The author’s focus on the British Museum’s remarkable collection is sure to provide both education and creative inspiration.

Textiles of the Middle East and Central Asia: The fabric of life by Fahmida Suleman (2017)
^{ISBN 9780500519912}

Last but not least…

Serving a global community of over 60,000 stitchers can sometimes make it difficult to select books that are accessible to all. This is especially true for books that are out of print or self-published. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth mentioning, though, so we’re sharing a few interesting titles that may be more tricky to locate, but still worth a read.

Phulkari from Punjab: Embroidery in transition

This meticulously researched book traces the history of Phulkari through the ages. Over 350 photographs help bring to life the nearly lost craft, including instances of revival and innovation amongst artists and designers.

Every stitch in Phulkari placed on the fabric tells a story in the form of motifs. Author Shalina Mehta spent seven years searching out those stories across the villages and byways of Punjab, which is considered home for this ancient craft.

Shalina traces the history of Phulkari from its decline to its revival and includes stories collected from practitioners along her journey.

Phulkari from Punjab: Embroidery in transition by Shalina Mehta and Anu H Gupta (2020)
^{ISBN 9781911630180}

Beadwork techniques of the Native Americans

This book focuses on beadwork techniques among the western Plains’ Indians, both past and present. Readers will discover the basics, advanced techniques, supplies and actual examples of beadwork through rich illustrations and easy-to-follow instruction.

Styles include loom work, appliqué, lazy/lane stitch and the gourd (peyote) stitch. Instructions for making and beading moccasins are also included. This book is both instructional and artistic, as it features dozens of images of beaded works housed in museums and private collections.

Beadwork Techniques of the Native Americans by Scott Sutton (2008)
ISBN 9781929572113

Mexican textiles

Mexican textiles are known for their passionate appreciation of colour, pattern and design. Author and photographer Masako Takahashi shares her love of the form by taking readers on a journey to artisan workshops, weaving centres, lace makers and family-owned rug manufacturers.

Readers are given an inside view of how traditional fabrics are designed, dyed, woven and finished. The photos are gorgeous, and the author shares insightful notes on regional differences, history, and technique.

Mexican textiles by Masako Takahashi (2003)
^{ISBN 9780811833783}

“The sense of smell is the hair trigger of memory.”

Research has proven that the nose knows and remembers. The slightest hint of a familiar fragrance can take us back in time and space, and, according to Pallavi Padukone, that phenomenon is good for both wellness and wellbeing. After successfully using aromatherapy to help manage the stress of the pandemic, Pallavi decided to turn the fragrance industry on its head by creating ‘olfactory art’.

Pallavi’s tapestries and embroideries are literally fragrant. She weaves and stitches with yarns and threads soaked in naturally derived scents like jasmine, rose, and sandalwood. She also dyes her materials with Indian herbs and spices including safflower, chilli and turmeric. Pattern, colour, texture and scent combine to recreate memories of Pallavi’s childhood in southern India.

Pallavi continues to finetune her techniques and expand her library of scents, but she has generously taken a moment to offer us an insight into her current process and techniques. 

We wish we could offer you a scratch-and-sniff option while reading about her work, but we promise you’ll still be delighted to learn about her inventive art that tantalises both the nose and the eye.

Pallavi Padukone: I was exposed to different forms of art from an early age. My mother is a graphic designer and used to work at a gallery in Bangalore, India. Growing up, I’d often visit her at work. I was also enrolled in a weekend art class led by one of the artists.

One of my first experiences involving textiles was at a school tie-dye workshop. It was the first time I’d played around with dyeing fabrics.

I also have fond memories of my grandmother teaching me how to embroider. I sat with her in the evenings, and she would patiently show me different embroidery stitches and knots. She also made me a little guide to help me practise.

I studied textile design during my undergraduate education in India. I decided to specialise in textiles because working with my hands came naturally to me. An exchange semester for a fibre art course in Gothenburg, Sweden, really opened my eyes to how complex textiles can be.

I learnt how to view fibres and fabrics with a conceptual lens. I fell in love with using textiles as an art medium after experimenting with different techniques and meeting many interesting people in the field.

I later studied at the Parsons School of Design, New York, where I focused on integrating scent and textiles, using fragrance as a form of embellishment.

Connecting to culture & place

All the materials I use in my work are chosen for their sensorial qualities. There’s a connection to landscape, place and time that is woven into each work’s backstory.

I integrate hand-spun recycled sari silk mixed with scent-coated cotton for my weaves and embroider on silk organza. I retain the existing jewelled colours the silks are sourced in. I am drawn to the way the sheer fabrics interact with light to visually evoke the ephemeral experience of fragrance.

My work is guided by culture and craft, and I believe in the philosophy of respecting the artisanal, the sustainable and the slow.

“I often use nature as my muse for colour, patterns, and materials.”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

My Indian heritage also constantly informs my textile art. Textiles are so deeply rooted in India’s history – their richness and craft inform both my approach and design sensibilities for patterns, motifs, techniques and colour.

My use of colour comes intuitively from sights, my surrounding landscape and imagined memories. I can be inspired by something as simple as certain shades of flowers at a market or an interesting colour-blocked sari I spy someone wearing.

Olfactory art

The idea of using fragrance for its therapeutic qualities and its connection to nostalgia and memory resonates with me.

My initial source of inspiration was the calming effect a small pouch of lavender provided while cooped up in my apartment during the 2020 lockdown.That prompted me to explore scents for wellness and how they could be visually expressed through colour, pattern and texture.

As part of my research, I conducted surveys to record the relationship people have with fragrance and their link to memory, emotion, visual imagery, colour and texture.

I then considered how fragrant yarn itself could open doors to possibilities through textile techniques. Through trial and error, I developed a natural coating for yarn that captured scents.

The Reminiscent collection is inspired by the scents and colours of memories and nostalgia connected to my home in Bangalore. There are a total of 14 wall hangings, tapestries and room dividers that stimulate the senses beyond sight with a feeling of familiarity.

The collection keeps evolving as I keep adding to my library of scents. It’s been a fascinating learning process. Reminiscent seeks to reinterpret the fragrance industry by tapping into scent’s ability to serve as powerful catalysts for triggering memories, especially feelings of calm and comfort.

“It’s a way to use textiles as aromatherapy to condense time and distance, as well as create an immersive experience to reconnect with nature, nostalgia, home and identity.”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

Creating scented yarns

The six scents that I started my collection with were jasmine, citronella, vetiver, rose, sandalwood and clove. I’ve added hibiscus and ‘spice rack’, which is a combination of cardamom, clove and turmeric. All these fragrances bring me a sense of comfort, and I associate them with the smell of home and my childhood.

“My memories include the scent of sandalwood talcum powder on my grandmother’s dressing table”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

Jasmine buds in our terrace garden, rose garlands in the flower market, citronella mosquito repellent during summer months, and the petrichor-like fragrance of the vetiver root that’s reminiscent of the monsoons.

The scented yarn coating I developed is wax based. It’s combined with tree resin and pure essential oils, and then coloured with natural dyes and earth pigments. The mixture is warmed, and the yarns are individually dipped, coated and dried.

The resin helps to harden the mixture. Yarns are then put into sealed bags for them to dry and lock in the scent ready for use in my tapestries. It takes about 48 hours for them to dry and harden slightly before I use them.

When yarns are heated at the right temperature, the combination of wax and resin make them quite malleable and versatile for weaving and embroidery. But they do have limitations.

Since yarns are individually dipped, they’re created in small quantities and not as a single continuous long length of yarn. That equates to a more time-consuming process, but small batches prevent waste because I can estimate how much coated yarn will be needed for each colour and scent.

I also make my own scented beads using the same pigmented and scented mixture used for my yarn, by casting the mixture into customised 3D printed moulds that I designed. I use the beads to embellish my work. Vetiver III is an example where I integrated the beads into the warp of the tapestry.

Fading fragrance

A collection tends to remain fragrant anywhere up to three months, depending on exposure to heat and light. But that impermanence is a reminder of its completely natural state and that it absorbs new smells, just as dyes tend to alter over time.

“It’s a fact that scent is temporary, and because I work with completely natural materials, it will fade over time.”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

I keep a record of swatches as a test of the material’s durability and how long both scent and colour last when exposed to heat and light. The yarn and beads can be reactivated by adding another coating of scented oils, but the fragrance still tends to fade. So, part of my ongoing exploration is innovating new ways to replenish fragrances.

I also plan to continue to expand my library of scents to capture other places and memories dear to me.

A natural dye palette

I experiment with different combinations of dye matter to build my palettes. I mix various natural dyes in different proportions with a base of wax and natural resin.

The shades of brown come from walnut, natural earth clays and cutch extract from acacia catechu wood. Ocher pigments, reds and pinks are from madder root, hibiscus and beetroot. The orange colours come from safflower and chilli, yellows from turmeric, and blues and greens from a combination of indigo and turmeric.

“Each work’s dye palette features colours I associate with the memories I hold for each of my fragrances.”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

With jasmine, I associate its sweet scent with delicate soft hues of pinks, creams and pastel green. But sandalwood is more a musky, powdery and creamy wood scent, so for this I use more earthy browns and deep wine reds.

Experimental weaving

My first interaction with weaving and using a handloom was during my undergraduate education. I find the repetitive motion of weaving so meditative. I think I truly fell in love with the process of weaving after travelling to Patan, a city in Gujarat, India.

There, I met master weavers who specialised in the complex double ikat weaving technique called ‘patola’ where the warp and weft are resist tie-dyed. I was absolutely mesmerised by its complexity and seeing each step in the process come together to weave the patterns.

I use a handloom, and I’ve more recently begun using tapestry looms or making my own frame looms. 

I call myself an ‘experimental weaver’, as I love weaving with different materials and moving beyond using only yarn. Vetiver roots are a favourite, but they definitely pose challenges that lead to a great learning process.

The roots themselves can be quite brittle, but I enjoy leaning into its limitations. I’m exploring ways to combine machine embroidery with wet felting to help tame the material in ways that keep its natural wildness.

I still have so much to learn and discover, and I primarily teach myself by reading and watching online tutorials for embroidery and weaving. I’m also grateful to live in a city that has access to great libraries, museums, art galleries, talks and seminars that provide great opportunities for inspiration and meeting others in the field.

Vetiver embroidery

In addition to weaving, I also wet felt and embroider on top of the fragrant vetiver (khus) grass root. It releases the most divine petrichor-like scent (like the earthy smell after rain) when activated with water.

I have tried to use vetiver in my woven pieces as well as using it as a dye, but it produces a very light colour that fades quickly.

For my embroidered works, I carefully choose yarns and threads for each piece. I like the simplicity of the running stitch. I also use quite a bit of free-motion machine embroidery, as well as hand smocking techniques on silk organza.

I tend to use cotton threads for embroidery, and polyester or nylon threads for my vetiver root artworks that involve interaction with water.

Tree of life

For my undergraduate final thesis project, I worked on a sculptural hand-woven installation called The Kalpavriksha. I’d say that project was a key turning point in my textile art trajectory.

The work was inspired by South India’s ‘Tree of Life’, which is a coconut palm eulogised as the mythological tree that grants all life’s necessities. Every part of the tree, from its leaves to its roots, can be used for food, drink, shelter, medicinal purposes and more. In Indian tradition, a tree is not just an object of nature. It’s treated as a shrine and source of bounty. 

I collaborated with handloom sari weavers and cane-work artisans from Bangalore. The sculpture symbolises the dissected coconut and represents how every layer of the tree and fruit is valued. The spreading roots made from braided coir (coconut fibre) represent its ever-evolving nature.

The coconut fibre was donated by the coir cluster of Gandhi Smaraka Grama Seva Kendram (Alleppey, Kerala), a non-profit organisation that promotes sustainable agricultural development.

Six fabric information panels accompany the exhibit, with details about why the coconut palm is revered and how it travelled to the Malabar region. The last panel features a folktale from Kerala about its origin. The installation was part of a travelling exhibit funded by the Dutch Consul General and Embassy in New Delhi.

“I find it challenging to put my work out there. Many times, I don’t feel that an artwork is ready, or I overthink some of my pieces.”

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

Navigating social media

There are times I have ideas in mind, but I need access to more resources or collaboration with an expert to bring them to life. Networking and self-education can provide good advice and guidance, but sometimes I can’t find the information I need to move forward with a project. It’s all a slow learning process.

At other times, just mustering inspiration to make something can be a challenge. When that happens, I’ll visit museums and art shows or travel. Trips back to India to visit my family and source materials always fuels my creativity.

I have mixed feelings when it comes to using social media. I do realise it’s become the standard way to showcase and promote your work as an artist. More people ask for an Instagram handle versus a website or email.

But I do struggle to maintain consistency when posting. Quite often I don’t post because I feel intimidated sharing my work, or I question if a work is ready to be posted.

It’s a challenge I need to overcome. I do use Instagram to follow other artists and designers, and being a textile designer working in the area of home interiors, I use it to stay informed about new developments and interesting projects in the industry.