Fiber art – TextileArtist https://www.textileartist.org Make beautiful art with fabric & thread Mon, 01 Sep 2025 11:54:40 +0000 en-GB hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.8.3 https://www.textileartist.org/wp-content/uploads/textileart_favicon2023_CORAL.gif Fiber art – TextileArtist https://www.textileartist.org 32 32 Creative solutions for displaying textile art https://www.textileartist.org/displaying-and-hanging-textile-art/ https://www.textileartist.org/displaying-and-hanging-textile-art/#comments Sun, 31 Aug 2025 20:00:00 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/displaying-and-hanging-textile-art/ Choosing the right display method can turn your textile art into a statement piece. But it can also be a huge challenge. The weight, drape, and delicate nature of fabric and thread demands techniques that protect your work while also showcasing its beauty.

Good news! We’ve lined up nine textile artists who are sharing their go-to display methods. You’ll be surprised by each technique’s simplicity, as well as the fact they don’t require expensive equipment or professional support. Each artist generously provides step-by-step instructions and tips that will help ensure your success. 

No matter what type of textile art you create, we’re confident at least one of these strategies will help you display your work in all its glory.

Hand embroidery painting of a window scene
Mary Beth Schwartzenberger, Giverny Window Scene, 2024. 14cm x 15cm (5½” x 6″). Painting, hand embroidery. Kyoseishi paper, acrylic paint, Pellon interfacing, foamcore, fishing line, DMC cotton embroidery thread.

Shadow box & floating mount

Mary Beth Schwartzenberger: Because my art is a combination of paper and fibre, I find an enclosed shadow box frame to be the most archival and effective way to display my work. I never glue my art to any surface. Instead, I float my work using foam core and fishing line which allows the paper’s uneven edges to become a design element. 

First, choose a shadow box frame with an appropriate depth to allow your art to float without touching the frame’s back, sides or the glazing. The box’s sides can be made of mat board, foam core or plastic strips. 

Next, cut a piece of foam core that’s at least 3cm (1″) smaller than the artwork’s perimeter. Then stitch the artwork to the foam core using fishing line. Because the art is stitched rather than glued, you can safely remove it by simply cutting the fishing line stitches. 

The foam core is then glued to the float board that fits inside the frame. The proper fitting sequence is glazing, shadow box sides, float board with media and then close.

Foam core and fishing line supplies
Artwork attached to a foam core board using long stitches using fishing line, with the arrows showing the direction of stitching

I always encourage artists to work with a professional framer. While it may cost more, it will pay dividends in quality and longevity. I also suggest letting a framer know you’re a willing partner in the process. Most will respect your interest and offer suggestions for various techniques. 

For smaller works, many frames with built-in shadow box sides or matting are sold online. But again, if your project is particularly important, I think using a framer is your best route. You’ll have a high-quality frame and a wider choice of matting and glazing. A beautiful work of art deserves a beautiful presentation. 

Mary Beth Schwartzenberger is based in Los Angeles, California (US). Her work has been featured in galleries and museums throughout the US. She has also been featured in a variety of publications, including Fiber Arts Design Books 6 and 7 and Cloth Paper Scissors magazine.

Handstitched paper & cloth
Gwen Hedley, Restoring, 2015. 7cm x 135cm (3″ x 53″). Hand stitch. Disintegrated paper, cloth.

Bobbin & scroll

Gwen Hedley: I enjoy the flexibility of scrolls, which can be used with a spool, bobbin or other tubular item. They can be displayed as a freeform relief work or hung on the wall by passing a small rod through the spool holes, protruding just enough to carry a short hanging thread. 

The height of your spool determines the width of your scroll. Your spool should be a bit longer than your stitched scroll. This makes it easy to wrap the scroll around the spool. In my example, my spool is 9cm tall, and my scroll is 6cm tall.

You’ll also need a short length of 2cm (1″) Velcro to attach the scroll to the spool. Cut the Velcro to fit across the end of your stitched scroll and then sew the hooked side at the very end of your scroll on the right side. If you don’t want to stitch it onto your scroll, sew a small fabric extension at the end of the scroll (as shown in the first image below) and stitch the Velcro onto this instead. 

Place the fuzzy piece of Velcro onto your sewn-on Velcro strip. Next, wrap the scroll just once around the spool and mark a line on the reverse side where the Velcro now sits invisibly on the back of your work (marked by a pin in the image below). 

Peel off the fuzzy half of the Velcro and stitch it firmly into place on the reverse of the scroll, just inside your marked line. Stitch around all sides of the Velcro. 

You’re now ready to wrap the end of the work tightly around the spool, pressing the Velcro strips firmly together to hold the end securely in place. Then you can wind the rest of your scroll onto the bobbin.  

Velcro attached at the end of the scroll.
Marking the position of the Velcro by wrapping the scroll tightly around the spool

 To display your scroll on the wall, fix the spool to the wall at a jaunty angle using a picture hook and thread. Then arrange your unwinding scroll in any way you wish, remembering to keep the dimensional quality. Sticky fixers or the like can be added to the back parts that touch the wall.

Alternatively, you could sew a thin wire at each side of the scroll and manipulate it into interesting undulations. 

My favourite method is to stand the spool on a small plinth, allowing it to unwind and tumble across the table. The longer the scroll, the better. I have a small box to contain each spool for storage and transportation, and this, in turn, can become a plinth for the piece. 

Gwen Hedley is based on the Kent coast in the UK. She teaches and exhibits across the globe and is a long-standing member of the Textile Study Group. She has also written Drawn to Stitch (2010) and Surfaces for Stitch (2000). Photo of Restoring by Melanie Chalk.

A thread painting of a waterfall
Cassandra Dias, Almon Waterfall, 2022. 9cm x 9cm (3½” x 3½”). Thread painting. Cotton embroidery thread on canvas, bamboo hoop.

Hoop in a shadow box 

Cassandra Dias: This shadow box technique allows me to display and protect an entire embroidered hoop without having to mount, glue or sew anything into place. All that’s needed is a completed and hooped artwork, backing felt and a shadow box. 

Choose a shadow box with a width that allows at least a 1.5cm (½”) space around your embroidery hoop. The inner depth of the shadow box (the space between the glass panel and the backing board) should be around 2cm (¾”), so your hoop can be sandwiched between the glass and the felt before the backing board of the frame is set in place to hold it all together. 

Once you’ve selected your shadow box, wipe down the inside of the box and glass with a damp paper towel and let it dry. Place your finished embroidery face down on the centre of the glass. 

Cut some strips of felt and scrunch them up to fill the spaces surrounding the embroidery. This gives the effect of having the hoop nestled into a bed of fabric. Place a square piece of matching felt over the felt strips and your hoop. Lastly, add the backing board and close the frame. 

Scrunching felt strips to fill in around the centred hoop

This technique works best for embroideries that have a level surface. If your work has a lot of raised stitching, the glass panel will flatten the stitches. But for flatter works, this technique is a great way to protect your art from dust and other environmental elements. You can choose to hang your work on the wall or prop it up on a flat surface. 

Cassandra Dias is based in Southern California, USA. She started to embroider in 2020 as a hobby, but that quickly grew into an artistic career. Cassandra’s work has been featured in various online textile and art publications, as well as in Love Embroidery magazine (September 2021).

Machine and hand embroidery, appliqué of a Landgirl
Vinny Stapley, Land Girl, 2025. 20cm (8″). Photo image transfer, machine and hand embroidery, appliqué. Tulle, lace, organza.

Hanging hoop 

Vinny Stapley: This display technique is especially wonderful for works created with sheer translucent fabrics, as well as opaque fabrics. It gives a nice clean finish that looks lovely from both the front and back. 

You’ll need your artwork, an embroidery hoop, scissors and double-sided tape that matches the depth of your hoop. A small butter knife or something with a rounded flat blunt tip is useful to tuck under any excess fabric, and you’ll need some invisible thread or fishing line to hang the hoop.

First, secure your embroidery in the hoop. Tighten the screw, so your work is taut like a drum. I locate the screw fixing at the top of the artwork to make it easy to hang. Trim the excess fabric leaving an allowance of 2cm (¾”). Position the double-sided tape around the inside frame edge, pressing it firmly to the inside hoop edge.

Trimming the excess fabric around the hoop
Attaching the double-sided tape

Peel off the paper backing of the double-sided tape, and then carefully stretch and fold the extra fabric to the inside of the hoop onto the sticky tape. Use a flat-edged knife to tuck in any extra material at the base of the inner hoop edge. Attach some invisible thread or fishing line to hang the hoop.

The key to success is making sure your work is tightly secured in the hoop. This will help prevent it from looking loose and baggy.

Vinny Stapley is based on Mersea Island in Essex, UK. She is a member of the group East Anglian Stitch Textiles, which was featured in Embroidery magazine in 2024. Her work was selected for The Broderer’s Exhibition: The Art of Embroidery, 2025.

A fabric thread painting of a bird.
Pat Baum Bishop, Harbinger, 2022. 102cm x 69cm (40″ x 27″). Fused fabric, machine quilting, painting. Fabric, thread, batting, acrylic paint. 

Sleeve & slat 

Pat Baum Bishop: The sleeve and slat system is my preferred method for larger art quilts and those that don’t match standard sizes of wrapped canvases. It works great for all sizes of textile art that has more than one layer, including those that have decorative or intentionally unfinished edges.

First, measure and cut a fabric strip that is 10-15cm (4-6″) less than the width of the quilt and about 25-30cm (10-12″) deep. For smaller quilts, you could make your sleeve about 10cm (4″) deep. 

To create a sleeve, fold the fabric in half lengthwise and stitch along the long edge. Press this flat and then cut it into two equal sections. Evenly shorten each half section, enough to leave a 15cm (6″) gap in the centre of the artwork. Finish the shortened edges by turning them under by 1cm (½”) and stitching. Pin each sleeve about 1cm (½”) down from the top of the quilt and 2cm (1″) in from the outer edges, then hand stitch into place. 

A sleeve hand stitched in place
A wooden firring strip and hanging wire inserted into sleeves

For the insert slats, I use wooden firring strips from a DIY/home improvement store that are 0.64cm x 122cm x 4cm (¼” x 48″ x 1½”). I cut the strip to 2.5cm (1″) less than the width of the finished quilt and sand down the edges. 

I cut about 30cm (12″) of hanging wire and make a loop at each end. With the wire centred, I staple each of the looped ends to the slat with a household stapler.

Pat Baum Bishop is an artist and teacher based in Wisconsin, USA. She has exhibited across the globe and won numerous awards in fine art venues and prestigious fiber art exhibits. She has also been on the cover of Quilting Arts Magazine and appeared on The Quilt Show in 2024.


Pat Baum Bishop’s alternative option for small textile art quilts uses machine-stitched facings. 


A machine stitched and quilted piece
Pat Baum Bishop, Night City Living, 2022. 30cm x 15cm (12″ x 6″). Machine stitch, machine quilting. Fabric, thread, batting, cradle board. 

Wrapped canvas

Pat Baum Bishop: The wrapped canvas method can be used for both framed and unframed display. I think this technique gives the artwork more presence, substance and importance. It also prevents the art from sagging or hanging unevenly. 

You want to first make sure your textile art overlaps your canvas by at least a 5cm (2″) on all four sides (a larger overlap may be needed for thicker frames).

Lay your quilt face down and then place the frame in the middle. Using a household stapler or staple gun, wrap and staple the art at the top and bottom centres of the back of the frame. Then wrap and staple the left and right centres of the frame. Continue to staple around the frame every 5-8cm (2-3″). 

Art quilt wrapped to the back and stapled to the canvas
A neatly wrapped corner gives a smart finish

For neat corners, pull each corner of fabric up diagonally toward the centre of the canvas and staple it down. Then tuck and staple each side of the corner. If your artwork is too thick, try trimming excess material to achieve a nice look. You can also tap the corners with a hammer to encourage them to lie flatter.

To hang the work, I attach D-rings a third of the way down from the top on the left and right sides and thread through some picture frame wire. 


Pat Baum Bishop, wrapping a canvas


A hand embroidered fabric collage of a blackbird.
Jo Morphett, Blackbird: Moment in the Sun, 2025. 9cm x 12cm (3½” x 4¾”). Fabric collage, hand embroidery. Cotton fabrics, wool felt, cotton embroidery thread, cording. 

Attached wire hanger

Jo Morphett: This technique is perfect for small to medium sized textile art that doesn’t weigh much. It uses a simple 22- or 24-gauge wire that can be found at hardware or craft stores. Depending on where you place the wire, it can be almost hidden or openly serve as a decorative element. 

Start with a length of wire approximately triple the width of your project. To create a triangle, first fold the wire in half without pinching. Then bend each cut end toward each other and overlap to create a triangle shape. Twist the overlapped wire ends around each other to secure, then trim any excess wire.

The base of the triangle, the edge with the twisted ends, should be about 1cm (¼”) shorter on each side than the width of the art. Once the triangle is the size you want, pinch the top of the wire slightly to create an oblong shape at the top. 

Folding a perfect wire triangle can be challenging, but don’t worry. Some wonkiness is ok. And if the wire that shows above the top of the art is centred and uniform in shape, it’ll look great.

A wire hanger sewn in place before covering the back with fabric

To attach the wire to the art, centre the wire on the back of the piece, allowing it to show as above the top of the artwork. Holding the wire in place with your non-dominant hand, secure it using a whip stitch with embroidery thread (floss), making sure your stitches don’t appear on the front of the piece. 

Once the wire is stitched in place, cover the back of the whole piece with fabric and use a blanket stitch to stitch it all together. 

Jo Morphett is based in Northern BC, Canada on the unceded ancestral lands of the Lheidli T’enneh Peoples. She creates video tutorials and provides inspiration for starting or expanding a Slow Stitching practice. Jo also relies upon a low impact, no waste approach by using recycled or deadstock fabrics.

a textile collage of a fabric book
Mandy Pattullo, Fabric Book, 2023. 20cm x 15cm (8″ x 6″). Textile collage. Vintage scraps, linen, hand embroidery.

Fabric book with pages

Mandy Pattullo: I enjoy the flexibility of using fabric books. Using buttons for the side binding allows pages to be easily removed or worked on at a later stage. It’s also easy to attach a backing to the pages since they are separate.

I start by pinning all my collage elements onto a linen page and then attach a backing piece of linen using a small overstitch or stab stitch. I use matching thread and very small stitches, so they are almost invisible. It’s important the attaching stitches aren’t really seen.

A fabric book with a three-button binding

I then add whatever stitch or other embellishment I want to my page, and once everything is complete, I add another same-sized linen backing piece and attach that with tiny running stitches. 

To assemble the book and bind one side with a few buttons, I stack the pages together and make pencil marks on the front where each button will go. I use a strong knotted thread such as cotton perlé to stitch on the buttons. 

Assembled fabric book pages

I bring the needle up from the back of the book, through a button, and then stitch down through the button to the back. If necessary, I stitch through the button a second time. 

Mandy Pattullo is based in Northumberland, UK. Her work is based on historical textiles and traditional techniques. She teaches workshops across the globe and is a member of the Textile Study Group. 

a textile collage of a book
Mandy Pattullo, Concertina Book, 2015. 100cm x 15cm (39″ x 6″). Textile collage. Vintage scraps, metis, hand embroidery.

Concertina book

Mandy Pattullo: I like to use metis fabric to make concertina books. It’s a stiff mix of linen and cotton that creates a sharp concertina fold. I assemble my collage elements into colour stories and pin them onto the metis. It’s important to be careful with any elements covering the valley and mountain folds. 

I’ll then stitch everything together using ordinary Gütermann sewing thread in a matching colour. I use almost invisible stitches or what some might call a whip stitch.

A concertina book, closed
A concertina book, showing textiles collaged onto the mountain folds

A challenge with this technique is that the stitches I use to attach the elements are visible on the back of the book. I’ve never found an effective way to put a second concertina on the back to hide those stitches, as doing so makes the book less pliable.

Still, I like how when the book is folded, you can ‘read’ it as double page spreads which can have their own colour story. And then when you pull the whole thing open, it gives yet another viewpoint. 

This technique is also an excellent way to present very small scraps of fabric. 

A textile collage hand stitched painting of scenery held by the artist Heidi Ingram
Heidi Ingram with The Clints of Dromore, framed, 2025. 33cm x 23cm (13″ x 9″). Paint, textile collage, hand stitching. Paint, fabric, thread.

Stretch-mounted & framed

Heidi Ingram: I use a traditional damp-stretch method for preparing my heavily stitched work ready for mounting. By presenting my art in a glazed frame it’s protected from dust build-up.

I pin out my composition on an old cork board using lots of drawing pins (thumb tacks) and then lightly spray it with water, while trying to make sure the grain of the background fabric is straight. As I use colourfast fabrics and threads there is no risk of the dye colours bleeding into the fabric during this process. You can also use a staple gun and a piece of plywood for damp-stretching. 

When the artwork is dry, I centre it over a piece of acid-free mountboard that’s several centimetres smaller than the background fabric on each side. I insert dressmaker pins into the mountboard core to temporarily fix the artwork in place. 

Next, I fold over the fabric at the back, making neat folds at the corners. With long lengths of doubled-up strong thread, I lace up the back. I make long stitches, starting at the centre of each edge then moving towards the corners. I find that a small curved upholstery needle makes this job a bit easier. 

Pinning the artwork onto the mount board
The lacing stitches at the back of the artwork

After removing the pins, I use acid-free framer’s tape to attach the work to a window mount. I tend to use a deep box frame for most of my artworks. But for flatter pieces, I can get away with using a standard frame combined with a double-layer mount to make sure the textiles aren’t touching the glass. 

Framing services can be expensive so I often order bespoke frames online and then frame the work myself. This also gives me full control on how the artwork is presented. Depending on the destination of the artwork, I use either standard float glass or art glass (either TrueView UltraView or Groglass AR70), which is more expensive but is non-reflective.

Heidi Ingram is based in Scotland and makes hand stitched textile landscapes. She is a member of EDGE Textile Artists Scotland and is the learning and workshop development lead for TextileArtist’s Stitch Club. 

A fabric hand stitched collage of a man in a hat.
Mary Carson, Benjamin’s New Hat, 2025. 30cm x 30cm (12″ x 12″). Appliqué, watercolour tinting, hand stitch. Cotton fabrics, tulle, embroidery thread, thread, watercolour paint.

Double-sided tape float 

Mary Carson: I always stretch my art because I don’t want faces and body parts puckering. I also want the manipulated fabrics to stand proud on the surface. But for Benjamin’s New Hat, I wanted to surround the work with a fabric binding so it would look like an art quilt when hung. 

I didn’t add a fabric backing, so some of my stitchwork can be seen on the back. I was concerned a loose backing fabric would allow the stitched work to ripple and buckle. But seeing the threads on the reverse side doesn’t bother me, as I enjoy seeing the backs of stitched works. 

I first thought about tacking the work to the canvas with thread, but I’d need too many stitches to keep it taut. So, I scoured the internet to see if there was a double-sided tape made for textiles, and discovered Stitchery Tape. It’s acid and solvent free, and it works like a charm!

I evenly distributed four full-length horizontal strips of tape across the canvas and then attached the art, working from the top down. I stretched the artwork taut as I laid it across each strip. It held remarkably well and has stayed secure to this day. 

Textile art attached to canvas backing.
Textile art attached to canvas with double-sided tape

The Stitchery Tape product information suggests art can be removed or repositioned without damage. I haven’t tried that, but online reviewers said they did so with success. 

In the future, I’m going to consider painting the edges of the canvas. I don’t mind the basic white finish for this piece, but a complementary colour could add to the display effect.

Mary Carson  is based in Wisconsin, US. She is a storyteller at heart in both stitch and word, and she enjoys being a writer for TextileArtist.

Another way to display your art is by taking photographs, especially when you share them on social media. Check out these tips for taking professional pictures of your work with your smartphone. 

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https://www.textileartist.org/displaying-and-hanging-textile-art/feed/ 25 Fiber art – TextileArtist nonadult
Jessica Grady: Extraordinary eco-embellishment https://www.textileartist.org/jessica-grady-extraordinary-eco-embellishment/ https://www.textileartist.org/jessica-grady-extraordinary-eco-embellishment/#comments Fri, 06 Jun 2025 20:21:08 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/jessica-grady-extraordinary-eco-embellishment/ For textile artist Jessica Grady, there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to embellishing her work. Even her embellishments are embellished, creating a feast for the eye in terms of colour and texture.

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.

Jessica Grady, Bloom - Mandala (detail), 2018. Hand stitch. Printed and foiled leatherette sequins, dyed tubing, painted metal washers.
Jessica Grady, Bloom – Mandala (detail), 2018. Hand stitch. Printed and foiled leatherette sequins, dyed tubing, painted metal washers.

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.

Jessica Grady, Wild Sculpture Trio, 2018. Hand stitch. Sequins made from recycled plastic, fabric, metal and paper, painted shells, wire, tubing, wool, elastic bands.
Jessica Grady, Wild Sculpture Trio, 2018. Hand stitch. Sequins made from recycled plastic, fabric, metal and paper, painted shells, wire, tubing, wool, elastic bands.

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!

Jessica Grady, Cosmos 2, 2025. Hand stitch. Leatherette, organza, netting, painted fabrics, fused plastic sequins, foam, painted wooden embellishments, couched velvet thread.
Jessica Grady, Cosmos 2, 2025. Hand stitch. Leatherette, organza, netting, painted fabrics, fused plastic sequins, foam, painted wooden embellishments, couched velvet thread.
Jessica Grady, Tideline, 2020. Hand stitch. Sea-eroded pottery fragments, sequins made from waste plastic and wetsuits, tubing, neon yarn, jewellery wire.
Jessica Grady, Tideline, 2020. Hand stitch. Sea-eroded pottery fragments, sequins made from waste plastic and wetsuits, tubing, neon yarn, jewellery wire.

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.

Jessica Grady, Noughts and Crosses (detail), 2017. Hand stitch. Dyed and painted tile spacers, hand dyed thread, recycled gift ribbon, hole punched sequins, linen fabric.
Jessica Grady, Noughts and Crosses (detail), 2017. Hand stitch. Dyed and painted tile spacers, hand dyed thread, recycled gift ribbon, hole punched sequins, linen fabric.

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!

Jessica Grady, Doodle Stitch, 2020. Hand embroidery, digital print of the reverse side of another artwork. Threads, recycled embellishments.
Jessica Grady, Doodle Stitch, 2020. Hand embroidery, digital print of the reverse side of another artwork. Threads, recycled embellishments.

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.

Jessica Grady, Doodle Cloth 3, 2025. Hand stitch. Painted calico, mixed recycled threads, wool yarns.
Jessica Grady, Doodle Cloth 3, 2025. Hand stitch. Painted calico, mixed recycled threads, wool yarns.

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.

Jessica Grady, Fragment (detail), 2017. Hand stitch. Recycled straws, cables, electric sleeve, aquarium tubing, fused waste plastic sequins, leatherette.
Jessica Grady, Fragment (detail), 2017. Hand stitch. Recycled straws, cables, electric sleeve, aquarium tubing, fused waste plastic sequins, leatherette.

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).

Jessica Grady, Dotted, 2021. Hand stitch. Felt washers, recycled plumbing parts, wire, textile sequins, neon scuba fabric.
Jessica Grady, Dotted, 2021. Hand stitch. Felt washers, recycled plumbing parts, wire, textile sequins, neon scuba fabric.

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.

Jessica Grady
Jessica Grady
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Taking photos of textile art using a smartphone https://www.textileartist.org/how-to-photograph-textile-art/ https://www.textileartist.org/how-to-photograph-textile-art/#comments Fri, 07 Mar 2025 10:40:25 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/how-to-photograph-textile-art/ We know from our Stitch Club members that it can be tricky to photograph stitched fabrics and capture all the wonderful textures and colours. Sometimes, it’s a challenge to avoid shadows and washed-out areas in the image.

Without a sound knowledge of photography techniques or access to professional equipment, getting fantastic photographs of your art can be tough. And textile art poses its own distinct challenges as artworks can come in a wide range of sizes, shapes and forms.

Here are some quick tips to help you take great photos of your creations using the camera app on your smartphone.

“Bright, indirect lighting is the key to a great textile photo.”

a hand holding a cell phone with a photograph of a textile art sample on the screen.
Make sure you have sufficient lighting

Choose a bright location

Lighting is the most important factor. It’s best to take your photos on a bright but cloudy day, inside or outside. Avoid direct sunlight as it will cause harsh shadows.

If you opt to shoot indoors, make sure the light source isn’t behind you, or you’ll cast a shadow over your artwork. Ideally, try to work in a space with pale, neutral-coloured walls, such as white or off-white tones.

Don’t use the camera’s flash as it will flatten the textile’s texture. It will also cause glare and uneven distribution of light across the piece.

Aim for even, indirect lighting across the work, with minimal shadows. If it’s darker on one side, prop up a piece of white card on the shady side. This will reflect some light across the work and balance out the darker areas.

Setting up the shot

It’s a good idea to remove nearby clutter or anything that might cast a colour over the work.

If you are going to frame the work using a glazed frame, make sure you take the photo before framing it to avoid problems with reflections.

Hang the work on the wall – this is great for quilts or larger works. If you don’t have a handy wall space available, you could use a board covered with a pale, neutral cloth or sheet and pin your textile art to it. Or attach smaller works to a piece of white card propped up vertically.

Alternatively, lay the work flat on a piece of white card and take the photo from above.

Move the artwork around to find the best lighting location for capturing the texture of your textile art. Watch out for reflective surfaces on your artwork – adjust the position and lighting of the artwork to minimise reflections and glare.

A person taking a picture of a textile art piece on a white wall
Hang the work on a wall to take the photo
A person taking a picture of a piece of textile art with a smartphone
Lay the work flat, and take the photo from directly overhead

Composing the shot

Hold up the smartphone directly in front of the centre of the artwork. Move forwards or backwards, or use your smartphone’s zoom function. You want the artwork to fill most of the image frame, but do leave some space around the outside so you can crop the photo to different dimensions later.

Check that the whole artwork is in focus, not just the central area. If the centre of the image is the only part that’s in focus, try moving further away and zooming in a little using your camera zoom. A sharp focus is important for giving you the best quality image of the stitches and textures.

“Make sure the focus is sharp when you take the photo, rather than trying to fix it later using software.”

Get things straight

Avoid distorted images, a condition known as keystoning. Check that the artwork appears straight, not skewed. Position the smartphone square on and make sure you’re not shooting at an angle with the camera tilted too far up or down. Your phone may have a grid function to help with this.

A square stitched textile sample
A square stitched textile sample
A skewed stitched textile sample
A skewed stitched textile sample

Taking the photo

Keep your smartphone super steady – use a tripod or stand firmly and brace your arms, holding your elbows tightly against your body to ensure as much stability as possible.

Take the photo, then zoom in and check all areas of the image for sharpness and clarity. Take several photos so you have lots to choose from.

If possible, after you’ve taken a few photos, preview them on a bigger screen, like a laptop or tablet. You can then make any final adjustments to your setup in order to capture the best quality photos of your work.

Cropping & editing

Use your phone’s photo app or computer software to crop or rotate the image. If necessary, adjust the brightness, contrast or colour saturation. Make sure the colours are accurate – white areas should appear white. Try tweaking the white balance settings and/or the colour settings to improve the colour accuracy. The image should be as true to life as possible.

Avoid using sharpening tools when editing your photo, as they can negatively affect the quality of the image. Instead, aim to get the sharpest possible image when you take the photo.

Save your images at your device’s highest-quality JPG setting. A high-resolution and larger file size will be needed for any photos you want to print.

You may need to create smaller files for emailing or to use online on a website – an image size of around 1800 pixels wide (giving a file size of 1-2Mb) is perfect for this.

If the textural details are particularly important in your artwork, take a separate set of close-up (macro) shots.

For three-dimensional textile sculptures, choose the best place to focus on to get as much of the piece in focus as possible. Then, take some detail shots from different angles to capture the sculptural shape of the work and show any interesting folds or layers in the fabric.

“Take whole artwork photos, as well as detail shots to highlight interesting areas of texture.”

A hand holding a cell phone with a photograph of a textile art sample on the screen.
Choosing a crop for your image
A detail of a square stitched textile sample
A detail of a square stitched textile sample

More tips & tricks

Seeking that perfect photo of your art? Good lighting and a sharply focused image are key. Here are some extra ideas to try.

If lighting is a problem and you find you have to use artificial lights, look for some daylight bulbs. You could also try to diffuse any harsh lighting using a white sheet or a piece of white plastic placed in front of the light source. With safety in mind, take care to avoid the light overheating.

If you’re using a tripod, set the timer function to take the photo a few seconds after pressing the button – this can help to further reduce camera shake and ensure really sharp images.

You can also adjust the exposure brightness and the white balance in your smartphone camera settings before taking the photo. This can help you capture the colours so that they look true to life. Remember to aim for an accurate reproduction of your work.

A woman sitting on the floor holding a phone, reviewing a photograph of a textile artwork.
Reviewing your image
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Robin McCarthy: Wired for stitch https://www.textileartist.org/robin-mccarthy-interview-a-zen-process-to-embroidery/ https://www.textileartist.org/robin-mccarthy-interview-a-zen-process-to-embroidery/#comments Fri, 04 Oct 2024 16:24:58 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/robin-mccarthy-interview-a-zen-process-to-embroidery/ Would you wear a ball gown made of old bras to a dance? Robin McCarthy’s college project didn’t quite make it that far – but her increasingly large and inventive projects did give her classmates a good laugh.

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.

A blue flower artwork hand embroidered on wire mesh with macrame cord.
Robin McCarthy, Morning Glory, 2023. 61cm x 91cm  (24″ x 36″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh with macrame cord.
a close up image of a woven fabric artwork.
Robin McCarthy, Morning Glory (detail), 2023. 61cm x 91cm (24″ x 36″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh with macrame cord.

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. 

A close up image of red, blue light blue and cream coloured woven fabric.
Robin McCarthy, Abstract Flower (detail), 2024. 61cm x 61cm (24″ x 24″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh.

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.

A red white and blue art piece, hand embroidered on wire mesh.
Robin McCarthy, Abstract Flower, 2024. 61cm x 61cm (24″ x 24″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh.
a close up of a woven fabric artwork.
Robin McCarthy, Abstract Flower (detail), 2024. 61cm x 61cm (24″ x 24″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh.

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.

Red letters embroidered on to wired mesh, displayed on a stone background.
Robin McCarthy, Question Authority, 2024. 33cm x 61cm (13″ x 24″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh with DMC cotton perlé threads.

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 
A heart shaped flower and a peace sign flower embroidered on to a fence with heavy yarn.
Robin McCarthy, Chain Link Fence, 2005. Chain link fence with heavy yarn embroidery.
A flower made of threads embroidered on to wire mesh.
Robin McCarthy, Cross stitch (work in progress)

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. 

a wooden chair with the words 'stop, look, listen, be here now.' stitched on to wire mesh in the seat and back of the chair.
Robin McCarthy, Be Here Now Chair, 2024. 41cm x 97cm x 46cm (16″ x 38″ x 18″). Wooden chair with wire mesh, hand embroidered with DMC cotton perlé threads.

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.

A hand embroidery artwork of a yellow dandelion with green leaves, stitched on to wire mesh and hung on a fence.
Robin McCarthy, Dandelion, 2023. 61cm x 122cm (24″ x 48″). Hand embroidery on wire mesh with macrame cord.

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
Robin McCarthy’s kitchen table, which also acts as her desk and sewing table. A close up of a stitched artwork on a table.
Robin McCarthy’s kitchen table, which also acts as her desk and sewing table.

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 
a mannequin wearing a dress made out of bras and a sash with the word ILLUSION written on it.
Robin McCarthy, Bra Dress, 2010. US size 6. Muslin fabric layered with donated bras, beauty pageant sash.
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Seven of the best textile art magazines https://www.textileartist.org/the-best-textile-art-magazines/ https://www.textileartist.org/the-best-textile-art-magazines/#comments Sat, 29 Jun 2024 09:11:53 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/the-best-textile-art-magazines/ You hear the letterbox rattle. The mail has arrived, and it’s a magazine – inspiration delivered through your own front door!

We already know you’re interested in the art of fabric and thread – why else would you be here? But perhaps you’re looking for a more tactile read, and the luxury of sitting down and reading a magazine cover to cover? If you’re interested in subscribing to a print (or digital) journal exploring textile art, there’s lots of gorgeous options to choose from. 

Here’s our list of the best textile art magazines. These publications are suitable for readers at all levels. High quality, beautifully illustrated, and aiming to inspire, engage and share, each title brings alive the latest developments and inspirations in textile art. 

Read on to discover these periodical gems: Embroidery, Selvedge, Fiber Art Now, Textile Fibre Forum, Quiltfolk, Quilting Arts and Surface Design Journal.

Embroidery

Embroidery

Embroidery is a beautifully presented long running magazine serving lovers of embroidery and contemporary textile art. It comes from the renowned Embroiderers’ Guild in the UK and was first published in 1932.

Over the decades, Embroidery has become the most well respected review of the art of embroidery and stitched textile art. This magazine inspires and impresses with its mix of textile art features, in-depth artist interviews and colourful artwork shots. There’s a listing of the best exhibitions and events around the UK and beyond, and all the latest news in the world of embroidery. 

Subscriptions are available for readers in the UK, Europe and worldwide. Published six times a year, it will bring you plenty of inspiration. Not to mention the option for incredible access to a vast, fully-searchable digital archive of back issues!

A digital downloadable version is available through Pocketmags, or a single issue pay-as-you-go option is available for those who don’t wish to commit to a long subscription.

Selvedge

Celebrate our communal love of cloth, culture and creativity in Selvedge, an attractive feast-for-the-eyes, square-format magazine. This internationally renowned magazine was launched in 2004 by textile obsessive Polly Leonard, and is published every two months in print and digital formats.

In a magazine as beautiful as the textiles represented within its pages, it features articles on textiles in fine art, craft, design, fashion and interiors, sharing the history and importance of cloth, and its place in the modern world. 

Print magazine subscribers receive complimentary access to the corresponding digital edition. Or subscribers can choose the digital-only version. Back issues are available to buy separately.

Great pride is taken in the printing process, using soy-based inks, paper and packaging produced in an environmentally friendly and socially responsible manner.

Textile Fibre Forum

Textile Fibre Forum is a long-running Australian textile art magazine, in print since the 1980s. Produced by ArtWear Publications since 2011, this quarterly magazine shares the work of textile artists, as well as promoting exhibitions and events, and exploring new techniques and innovations relating to textiles, fibres, and textile art. It has a strong focus on Australian artists and contemporary textiles, with articles from specialist contributors in each issue. 

The subscription price includes postage and handling within Australia. International purchasers pay postage at checkout. Alternatively, you can buy a digital subscription. Print format back issues are also available to purchase separately.

Fiber Art Now
Fiber Art Now

Fiber Art Now

This sumptuous magazine, published in the USA, has a broad remit – perfect for those who like a little bit of everything. It explores all types of textile art, including embroidery, crochet, weaving, felting, book arts, quilting, traditional techniques like shibori and sashiko, and more.

Covering installations, wearables, sculptures, vessels and basketry, wall and floor art, plus engaging artist profiles, there really is something for everyone. 

You’ll get four jam-packed magazines a year, as well as instant access to the archive of digital back issues. Shipping is free in the USA, and international subscribers can either pay for shipping or choose the great value digital-only subscription.

Quilting Arts
Quilting Arts
Quilting Arts

Quilting Arts

In Quilting Arts, you’ll learn more about textiles and techniques for contemporary art quilting and surface design. Published in the USA since 2001, this quarterly magazine is full of informative articles dedicated to promoting the art quilt movement, and is suitable for all levels, from novice to professional quilters and textile artists. 

It provides inspiration, technical information and mixed media insights; its aim being to elevate the visibility of art quilts through education, innovation and inspiration. 

Quilting Arts is available in print format, with a supplement to cover postage outside the USA. Back issues are available separately.

Quiltfolk
Quiltfolk
Quiltfolk

Quiltfolk

Travelling coast to coast from New Jersey to California, the quarterly magazine Quiltfolk visits a different state of the USA in each edition, exploring quilters and quilt stories unique to that region.

Beautifully designed and printed, this magazine is a tactile delight, with a soft cover and gorgeous images showcasing the art of quilting, and will appeal to all quilt makers and quilt lovers everywhere. 

This print-only magazine, first published in 2016, has 164 pages brimming with inspiration, and it is advert-free. Back issues are also available to purchase.

Surface Design Journal
Surface Design Journal

Surface Design Journal

If you’re looking to take your art to the next level, check out the Surface Design Journal from the Surface Design Association. This magazine will help to expand your knowledge on techniques and applications.

It covers textile art, design trends, exhibitions, as well as  interviews with artists, makers, curators and collectors. The journal is published in the USA, but has an international scope. 

This quarterly journal comes with membership of the Surface Design Association, which includes a range of other benefits.

Readers can choose print and digital, or digital-only subscriptions, at different price points depending on your location worldwide. Individual issues can be purchased at the SDA store.

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Daniella Woolf: The creative paper trail https://www.textileartist.org/daniella-woolf-interview-paper-paper-and-paper/ https://www.textileartist.org/daniella-woolf-interview-paper-paper-and-paper/#comments Thu, 20 Jun 2024 12:32:17 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/daniella-woolf-interview-paper-paper-and-paper/ California-based artist Daniella Woolf originally wanted to be a surgeon but instead she wields an X-Acto knife in lieu of a scalpel, and stitches and glues large scale abstract paper textile art.

Daniella reveals how letting go of fear has freed her to experiment and evolve. Her ‘don’t think, just do it’ attitude has allowed her to pivot from one medium to another and embrace new techniques. She likes to get herself out of the way and create a non-thinking environment that allows discovery and experimentation to flourish.

‘Everything’s better with shredding’, Daniella says. Through this deliberate destruction, often of everyday waste paper, exciting new formations and configurations emerge. In her search for pattern, Daniella creates something hidden, revealed and concealed. 

Daniella Woolf, Due Date, 2013. 1.8m x 2.7m (6ft x 9ft). Machine stitch, shredding. Library due date cards, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Due Date, 2013. 1.8m x 2.7m (6ft x 9ft). Machine stitch, shredding. Library due date cards, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.

Daniella Woolf: I bring order out of chaos. My chosen medium is paper, paper and paper. My techniques are stacking, wrapping, piercing, weaving, glueing and sewing.

My work has something hidden, revealed and concealed. I’m searching for patterns through play and discovery.

I don’t usually plan my work: I ‘doodle’ with materials in the studio, and something will materialise from this non-thinking frame of mind. Then I try to recreate what arrived in that naïve state.

“What materialises when I work consciously is never as good as what comes up when not thinking. I try to practise non-thinking, just doing.”

Daniella Woolf,

For example, lately, I’ve been avoiding looking at which papers I pick up to collage to a surface, thereby discovering what happens by chance.

My process typically begins with writing my stream of consciousness morning pages, or journaling. I have a beautiful, light-filled studio that is my favourite place in the world. It’s my sacred space where I work and have privacy.

I like to work in silence and I work on multiple series at once. I find that when I am doing ‘mindless work’ I will get an idea of how to solve a problem in another series or generate an idea that will start another series.

Daniella Woolf, Due Date compressed, 2013. 13cm x 10cm x 15cm (5" x 4" x 6"). Folding, stitch, shredding. Library due date cards, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Due Date compressed, 2013. 13cm x 10cm x 15cm (5″ x 4″ x 6″). Folding, stitch, shredding. Library due date cards, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf in her studio.
Daniella Woolf in her studio.

Freedom through limitations

My problem is channelling my wild mind, rather than not having ideas. I will often use the ‘container’ approach. That is to say that I will limit the amount of things I use to create my work.

I give myself an assignment, for example, use only shades of blue, or work in black and white, with these three pens and a cross-cut shredder.

“I find that limiting my options allows greater freedom of exploration.”

Daniella Woolf,

An overarching long-term goal (now that I’m ancient) is to use up all my materials before I go to that big studio in the sky. I try not to buy anything new and instead use what I’ve got.

Of course, that’s a tall order, especially when I find new products or shiny objects I haven’t used, or some artist demos an intriguing product on the web. However, I love to give myself assignments that fit into my ‘constraints promote creativity’ mantra.

Daniella Woolf, Beauty at My Feet, 2007. 61cm x 122cm (24" x 48"). Machine stitch, encaustic. Eucalyptus leaves, thread, beeswax, resin. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Beauty at My Feet, 2007. 61cm x 122cm (24″ x 48″). Machine stitch, encaustic. Eucalyptus leaves, thread, beeswax, resin. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Beauty at My Feet (detail), 2007. 61cm x 122cm (24" x 48"). Machine stitch, encaustic. Eucalyptus leaves, thread, beeswax, resin. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Beauty at My Feet (detail), 2007. 61cm x 122cm (24″ x 48″). Machine stitch, encaustic. Eucalyptus leaves, thread, beeswax, resin. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, OCD But Not Perfect, 2014. 46cm x 46cm (18" x 18"). Manipulated shredded paper. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, OCD But Not Perfect, 2014. 46cm x 46cm (18″ x 18″). Manipulated shredded paper. Photo: RR Jones Photography.

Perfect pandemic project

When the pandemic came along, I thought I’d do a collage every day for a year. Initially, I thought the pandemic was only going to last a few weeks but then it just went on and on. The result was my PPP or Perfect Pandemic Project.

I found myself in the studio first thing every morning, arranging my collage materials, tearing up sketchbooks and making folders of colour combinations.

Using my self-imposed constraints, I used the same size paper: quarter sheets of Rives BFK printmaking paper, 28cm x 38cm (11″ x 15″). I stuck my morning pages in the gutter, and I just went for it with gusto.

I got into a rhythm and some days I made four or even six pieces. I listened to podcasts while I worked.

Usually, I’d work until noon, weigh my collage down, then come back after lunch and zigzag sew the ones from the previous day. Every day, I repeated this (I do have a bit of the OCD, methinks!).

It was surprising how much I loved this daily routine. Until then, I thought of myself as a very social person, but I quickly began to think like a hermit.

I was happy not to have to see anyone, go anywhere and just work in the studio all day. I was stunned to see myself as a recluse.

I finished months early (by 100 days), with all 365 of them complete. Some styles or themes emerged. You can see the entire collection on my YouTube channel, including a time lapse video of me making one page. 

I eventually exhibited them in a local gallery. They were hung in their huge front windows because both the front and back were really interesting to see.

The stitching on the reverse was wonderful, and the light came through the stitch holes. It was deeply gratifying. I am just about to put some of my favourites on Spoonflower as tea towels.

Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11" x 15"). Machine stitch, collage. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11″ x 15″). Machine stitch, collage. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Greens with Fiber, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11" x 15"). Machine stitch, collage. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Greens with Fiber, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11″ x 15″). Machine stitch, collage. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Blue Rounds, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11" x 15"). Machine stitch. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Blue Rounds, 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11″ x 15″). Machine stitch. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Blue Rounds (reverse), 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11" x 15"). Machine stitch. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Perfect Pandemic Project – Blue Rounds (reverse), 2020. 28cm x 38 cm (11″ x 15″). Machine stitch. Paper, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.

What if?

My work is very repetitive. My mind is fluid. When I’m working, my mind is usually free, and I get a case of ‘What if…?’.

What if I change the gauge of this? What if I do this in ink? What if I make this horizontal or on an angle? What if I glue this to a different substrate? Asking this question may make me change course.

My construction methods are simple: shred, sew, stitch and glue, not necessarily in that order. I love vertical lines and multiples. Most of my works are grid based.

Before I put together my workshop for Stitch Club, I was primarily machine stitching. For the workshop, I was encouraged to provide an alternative to the machine and so I began hand stitching on paper.

Who knew I would love it so much! I appreciate the rigidity of paper and that I can make holes in advance – and follow them or not!

“I follow my gut because it’s always right.

Those still, small voices that say, ‘purple here’ are from a deep knowing place.”

Daniella Woolf,

Years ago, I won the Rydell Visual Arts Fellowship Award, a prestigious art award in our town, and it gave me a new level of confidence. Now, perhaps also because I’m older, I’m less fearful. I’m more willing to experiment, play and have fun. 

I always say, don’t be afraid… don’t think – just do!

Daniella Woolf, The Family Secrets, 2014. 28cm x 28 cm (11" x 11"). Shredding, machine stitch. Family letters, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, The Family Secrets, 2014. 28cm x 28 cm (11″ x 11″). Shredding, machine stitch. Family letters, thread. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Shredding a sketchbook page in a mini hand-crank shredder in the studio.
Shredding a sketchbook page in a mini hand-crank shredder in the studio.
Daniella, glueing paper to a ‘spine’ (with canine companion).
Daniella, glueing paper to a ‘spine’ (with canine companion).

Tools of the trade

I couldn’t live without paper, white glue, scissors, an X-Acto knife with #11 blade, a grid cutting board, plus some kind of tape (washi, blue painters’ or masking).

Lately, I’ve been having a love fest with index cards. They are all the same size and you can get them anywhere.

“Shredding always makes everything look better.”

Daniella Woolf,

I’m painting and sketching more. When I want to learn how to do something quickly, I usually go to YouTube. I still have a fear of drawing, but the brilliant Richard Box (author of Drawing for the Terrified) has helped me immensely.

I’m loving my new set of Kuretake-Gansai Tambi watercolours, and also Posca Markers – I love their flat finish. I’ve recently started playing with acrylic inks and refillable markers. 

I love to make colour charts. I’ve been particularly locked into greens and oranges. I’ve been making lots of compositions with those colours: painting the greens, getting paint samples from the hardware store, shredding them.

I’ve written morning pages and followed Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way practice for a long time. Writing helps me clarify things. These pages find their way into my work.

Making time for an ‘artist date’ is also inspiring. I love being in nature, taking walks, simply observing and photographing.

I adore Sonia Delaunay, Pierre Bonnard, and El Lissitzky and the Russian Constructivists (early 20th century artists who made constructed, geometric-based works with a focus on the technical use of materials and referencing the industrial world).

Also, The Grammar of Ornament by Owen Jones, an elaborately illustrated book of diverse patterns, motifs and ornamentation, first published in 1856.

Seduced by fibre

I started as a biology major in college because I loved science, especially physiology. I wanted to be a surgeon (in those days art was a hobby, not a career, right?).

I always had excellent fine motor skills but I needed maths and chemistry in which my skills were quite lacking! So I changed my major to studio art.

I had shown promise in the arts at an early age, winning an art scholarship at 13, and some awards for jewellery design at 16. 

In 1969 I went to Haystack, a crafts school in Deer Isle, Maine, for a summer session as a jeweller/metalsmith. The jewellers were quite serious and subdued, while the weavers were staying up until all hours of the night, listening to Bob Dylan, and having the most fun. 

One night I went to a talk by Walter Nottingham, a fibre artist. He talked about the magical mythical qualities of fibre and how one of his students had sewn a quilt and put a lock of their lover’s hair in a secret hidden pocket in the quilt. I was hooked.

After the talk, he wrapped my short hair in a zillion colours from the weavery. I had maybe a hundred little coloured ‘palm trees’ with my black hair sticking out all over my head.

“I was transformed at that moment into a textile artist.

I was forever changed.

That was my entry into the textile world.”

Daniella Woolf,

I returned to my college for my senior year and took every textile class they offered. I went on to gain an MA in Fiber at UCLA. It was a magical time. In October 1971, there was an exhibition at the gallery at UCLA entitled Deliberate Entanglements, showing the international rock stars of the textile world.

Simultaneously the Pasadena Art Museum (now the Norton Simon Museum of Art) was having an Eva Hesse retrospective. I remember sitting out in the courtyard thinking that I was in the right place at the right time.

Daniella Woolf, Forest of Words, 2010. Dimensions variable. Machine stitch. Dry wall tape, thread, India ink. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Forest of Words, 2010. Dimensions variable. Machine stitch. Dry wall tape, thread, India ink. Photo: RR Jones Photography.
Daniella Woolf, Yours, Mine and Ours, 2009. 9m x 9m (30ft x 30ft). Machine stitch, encaustic. Paper, photos, blueprints.
Daniella Woolf, Yours, Mine and Ours, 2009. 9m x 9m (30ft x 30ft). Machine stitch, encaustic. Paper, photos, blueprints.
Daniella Woolf stencilling in the living room. Photo: Kim Tyler.
Daniella Woolf stencilling in the living room. Photo: Kim Tyler.

East meets west

My most recent ‘achievement’ is pretty interesting. I was contacted by The National Museum of Modern Art, Kyoto. They wanted a photo of an installation entitled Forest, that I made in 1972, which was shown in the 1975 Tapestry Biennial in Lausanne.

The photo was for a catalogue of a retrospective of renowned textile artist Masakazu Kobayashi (1944-2004). Coincidentally, I was going to be in Kyoto and so I was invited to visit and meet with one of the curators.

It was very exciting and so inspiring. I recently received the catalogue, which is in itself a work of art. Even the bound sections of the text catalogue are sewn with hot pink thread!

I am so proud that a work from so long ago has received recognition. It was my first trip to Japan, and I loved it more than I can say. My only regret is that it took me so long to get there. I hope to return many more times.

Daniella Woolf, Forest, 1972. 3m x 3m x 3m (10ft x 10ft x 10ft). Crochet and fibre reactive dyed. Sisal, jute and manilla fibres. Photo: Hella Hammid.
Daniella Woolf, Forest, 1972. 3m x 3m x 3m (10ft x 10ft x 10ft). Crochet and fibre reactive dyed. Sisal, jute and manilla fibres. Photo: Hella Hammid.

Growing up with the movies

My early influences came from our family business. My dad had a prop house in Hollywood. He could supply any props (not costumes) for movies or print media.

There were collections of Native American Kachina dolls (depicting the kachina spirits from the Pueblo cultures), rugs and baskets. He had samovars and copper and silver cooking vessels, tea sets and oil paintings.

There were wagon wheels, dining sets, light fixtures, telephones and furniture of every kind. In fact, our English mahogany Chippendale dining set regularly disappeared, to be used in movies.

My dad’s desk was stacked with fabulous reference books about styles of furniture, architectural ornament and antiques. I looked at these constantly. I used to go to studios and movie sets with him. Disneyland was one of our clients so we went there often.

Another early influence was going to the theatre with my parents. We went to the Civic Light Opera and saw musicals and theatre plays. My childhood was quite culturally enriched.

I remember the musical Oliver having a tremendous influence on me. I was fascinated by the way the set rotated and became a new scene by simply changing the angle.

“I think this is where I began to think about making large scale artworks, and how it relates to human form.”

Daniella Woolf,

Always learning

I learned many things while putting together my Paper: Shred and Stitch workshop for Stitch Club. It had multiple components, some of which I didn’t know how to do and had to learn ‘on the job’, for example, learning how to film properly.

I spent a lot of hours in the studio, steadily chipping away to meet the goals in the time frame. I experienced many ideas sprouting during all this luscious studio time, working every day, being around materials. My ‘What if…?’ questions flowed and I felt inspired to make new work and keep exploring. 

I returned again and again to the simple ‘rules’ in the book Plain and Simple: A woman’s journey to the Amish by Sue Bender: ‘Trust the process. All work is important. All work is of value.

Since all work is honoured, there is no need to rush to get one thing over so you can get on to something more important.’

“Perhaps the biggest thing I learned from this project is to just do.

Don’t think.”

Daniella Woolf,

If it’s being created by you, there is divine inspiration behind it. Don’t judge, just do. Just do a little bit every day.

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Merill Comeau: The rebellious stitcher https://www.textileartist.org/merill-comeau-act-stitching/ https://www.textileartist.org/merill-comeau-act-stitching/#respond Thu, 18 Jan 2024 01:11:34 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/merill-comeau-act-stitching/ In her youth, Merill Comeau resisted gendered expectations and manifested her quirks through fashion. She embellished garments and often wore men’s clothes.

Today, she continues to use stitched textiles to assert her beliefs. Through her art she reflects her innate interest in societal hierarchies and material culture while expressing her feminist principles and rebellious nature.

Merill’s installations and large wall hangings often examine the narratives of deconstruction, repair and regeneration. Layers of fabric embellished with paint, dye, stitch and text explore common human concerns, like mending and endurance, and both historical and contemporary women’s roles. 

By using repurposed materials Merill throws the spotlight on environmental sustainability. But her strong attraction to worn textiles is also linked to the hidden histories they hold and the importance of textiles in our lives. Each unpicked garment or fragment of domestic linen contains the touch of all those who created and used it. Through the collaging and piecing of these soft and tactile materials, discover how Merill tells meaningful stories and makes connections with the past.

Merill Comeau in her studio
Merill Comeau in her studio

Essential textiles

What is it about textiles that makes you want to work with them?

Merill Comeau: Textiles evidence our cultures, socioeconomics, and challenges of global sustainability. They are an essential element of our daily lives: we are swaddled when born, we sleep in linens, we clothe our bodies, and we mark life’s passages with ritual garments and fabrics.

“Working with textiles provides a concrete and sensual engagement with the material world.”

I like being surrounded by inspirational textiles. Aged fifteen, I purchased a decrepit, antique Chinese embroidery made of blue silk threads on deep red wool, which I meticulously restored. I continue to collect fabrics such as 1950s abstract bark cloth, samples of crewel on linen, crazy quilts, contemporary Dutch wax African fabrics and geometric woven rugs.

To convey narratives of mending and endurance, I employ worn fabrics of the domestic sphere and the mark making of stitch. Ninety percent of my materials are repurposed – my mother-in-law’s blouse, a stained tablecloth, discontinued designer prints – each textile communicates identity, reveals lives lived and embodies memory.  

I enjoy the working processes of textiles. I make marks using dye, stitched resist or block printing, followed by construction, fabric manipulation, seaming and repair. Further decoration is achieved through embroidery, appliqué and embellishment. I compost, paint, print and rust my source fabrics, transforming them into my own visual language by creating a new, varied surface. 

When I stitch using needle and thread – a repetitive, meditative act – I am connected to thousands of years of textile traditions and to a contemporary community of makers telling stories of our complex world.

Merill Comeau, The Sins of the Mother Rest Heavily, 2014. 150cm x 130cm (60" x 52"). Mixed media, hand and machine stitch. Composted designer fabrics, deconstructed repurposed clothing and vintage linens, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, The Sins of the Mother Rest Heavily, 2014. 150cm x 130cm (60″ x 52″). Mixed media, hand and machine stitch. Composted designer fabrics, deconstructed repurposed clothing and vintage linens, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, The Sins of the Mother Rest Heavily (detail), 2014. 150cm x 130cm (60" x 52"). Mixed media, hand and machine stitch. Composted designer fabrics, deconstructed repurposed clothing and vintage linens, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, The Sins of the Mother Rest Heavily (detail), 2014. 150cm x 130cm (60″ x 52″). Mixed media, hand and machine stitch. Composted designer fabrics, deconstructed repurposed clothing and vintage linens, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.

Are there particular topics or themes that inspire your work?

My landscape work is inspired by nature and observing the change of seasons in New England. Plantlife is an apt metaphor for our lifecycle: plants sprout, bloom, wilt, and return to the earth to bloom again. For me, portraying the profuse vegetation of local trails and gardens symbolises a complex world where we are bombarded with information. 

I use the formal elements of landscape painting as a structure to help me puzzle through and arrange hundreds of disparate snippets into a unified scene. I keep my focus close to the ground, as in a worm’s eye view, representing our relationship to the power of our environment. 

My abstract work is informed by trauma, mending and healing. I am inspired by resilience. At times, words and pictures fail to express narratives of confronting challenges, surviving difficulties and emerging in a new, stronger self. Colourful fabrics and stitched marks give a visual voice to human experience – including the joy of thriving. 

I draw on what has come before by researching and viewing historical textiles. I see continuity across centuries of change at the same time as I anticipate continued rapid change in modern life.

“Applying traditional techniques in new ways and abstracting traditional decorative motifs gives me a visual vocabulary to take part in a long process of women telling stories about their lives.”

Merill Comeau uses the floor to lay out her materials
Merill Comeau uses the floor to lay out her materials

How do you develop ideas and plan your work?

Research is integral to my creative process. I prioritise time to read books and do online research to broaden my knowledge and understand a variety of topics and art. Much of my learning about ideas, history and current events is accessed through the written word. I consider it my job to translate these words through my personal lens into visual communication. 

There are times when words fail to capture and express the human experience. Art fulfils the impulse to document our existence and stimulates connecting conversations about the world around us.

In terms of planning, I don’t use sketchbooks to draw an imagined finished work, or for creating drawn instructions to follow, but I do keep several sketchbooks for a variety of purposes. For example, one is filled with images that inspire the abstract printing blocks I use to create my own patterned fabrics. 

Another is full of inspirational photos of nature, to assist me when I’m creating work using nature as a symbol of our life cycle. I have an ‘ideas’ sketchbook for self-reflective writing, brainstorming notes, title ideas and phrases I want to remember.

“Using sketchbooks helps me keep track of thoughts and flesh out ideas. Their content enhances my design process and helps me develop the conceptual underpinnings of my work.”

An example is Archive of Specimens, an ongoing contemplation on absence and presence. I’m a collector of tidbits of nature, representing places and people I’ve visited, as well as my wonder at the natural world. On my studio shelves are seed pods, nuts, berries, feathers and rocks: items intrinsically holding memory, meaning and beauty. My ‘souvenirs’ of flora and fauna mark a moment in my, and their, existence. 

I rendered these elements in pencil on paper, then translated the drawn image with thread onto painted fabric. I cut out these meditations and layered them on backgrounds not their own, for example, a pine cone illustration stitched to a background with a cut-out hole that was once the shape of a shell. The tiers of mismatched solids, voids and shadows express the mysteries of life and my sadness at impending loss. Research about the current challenges of managing natural history museum collections and the Victorian practice of collecting specimens from nature influenced this documentation of my own collection.

Merill Comeau, Archive of Specimens, 2022. 150cm x 210cm (60" x 84"). Drawing, collage, cutting, hand embroidery. Repurposed cloth, paper, thread, insect pins. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Archive of Specimens, 2022. 150cm x 210cm (60″ x 84″). Drawing, collage, cutting, hand embroidery. Repurposed cloth, paper, thread, insect pins. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Archive of Specimens (detail), 2022. 150cm x 210cm (60" x 84"). Drawing, collage, cutting, hand embroidery. Repurposed cloth, paper, thread, insect pins. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Archive of Specimens (detail), 2022. 150cm x 210cm (60″ x 84″). Drawing, collage, cutting, hand embroidery. Repurposed cloth, paper, thread, insect pins. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.

An emotional dialogue

Tell us some more about your process, from conception to conclusion.

I tend to work in series, although I don’t always know in advance what the link will be between works. The conceptual underpinning becomes evident over time, and then I build upon the discovered and identified theme. Looking back, I can see I’ve often worked in three-year blocks.

My first source of inspiration is usually autobiographical, the next sphere of influence comes from my surrounding community of family, friends and students, followed by my awareness and understanding of issues and experiences that bind us as human beings.

At the start of every series, I find I have something I need to say or an issue to puzzle through. This results in an emotional dialogue with the world, created through visual means.

In the midst of a series, I continue to write, and sometimes draw and paint, to flesh out and illustrate components of history and narrative. Phrases from my writing may be incorporated into the work through titles, stencils or stitches. Drawing, painting and textile work happens in tandem. 

An example is Fond Memories of Good Company, created in response to the isolation of the pandemic. Snippets of textiles saved from my dining room and kitchen evidenced a previous life of cooking and eating with others. As I drew on memory and articulated my longings, I rendered kitchen implements and tableware surrounded by stitched check marks, referencing past shared meals. 

After researching Boston’s history of women painting on china, once one of the only respectable sources of income for women, I studied the china handed down from my relatives. Large stencils of their patterns help me to express connections between women who came before and how I live today. 

Merill Comeau, Fond Memories of Good Company, 2023. 200cm x 260cm (78" x 102"). Hand stitching, embroidery, stencilling. Repurposed fabrics from the artist’s home, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Fond Memories of Good Company, 2023. 200cm x 260cm (78″ x 102″). Hand stitching, embroidery, stencilling. Repurposed fabrics from the artist’s home, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Fond Memories of Good Company, 2023. 200cm x 260cm (78" x 102"). Hand stitching, embroidery, stencilling. Repurposed fabrics from the artist’s home, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Fond Memories of Good Company, 2023. 200cm x 260cm (78″ x 102″). Hand stitching, embroidery, stencilling. Repurposed fabrics from the artist’s home, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.

Could you explain why you are drawn to making large scale works and installations, and how you approach large works?

One of the interesting things about postmodern art is the way the works come off the wall and engage all the surfaces of spaces. This changes the viewers’ experience – they are enveloped and/or encased in art that is larger than their bodies. 

In my installations, I refer to domestic spaces, and large collections of elements are gathered into spaces the size of a residential room. I also make large wall hangings that stand alone. This is the scale with which I am most comfortable.

I like the way that making these artworks requires me to use my whole body. The result expresses our experience of the power of our surroundings. 

It is important for artists to identify the scale at which they are most comfortable. To experiment, I suggest starting small and increasing the dimensions in successive efforts, learning new construction methods with increasing magnitude. One approach I use is to create a collection of smaller components, which are combined into one large final work.

What or who were your early influences, and how has your upbringing influenced your work?

My grandmother and mother sewed clothes. I grew up occasionally using a home sewing machine and picked up skills in a traditional home economics class. But I also fought hard against my family’s gendered beliefs, like girls needed to learn to cook – the kitchen felt like a traditional restrictive woman’s sphere, and I didn’t want to be there. 

I rebelled against expectations, finding expression through sewing and fashion. I wore men’s clothes and altered garments to express my quirks. I bought vintage clothes and personalised contemporary pieces with paint and embroidery. 

I sought out influences aligned with my feminist beliefs. I saw the feminist work The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago when it first toured the US, and the idea of taking back traditional women’s crafts and using them to tell stories in a new way inspired me. The table settings honouring women in history really spoke to me. It was a revolutionary and radical domestic reference. 

Learning about Judy Chicago and Miriam Schapiro’s Womanhouse project opened my eyes to the possibility of a woman’s sphere that encouraged questions, evaluation, and the critique of norms.

My degree is in social theory and political economy, and I’m interested in the ways we organise human society and what our material culture communicates about our values.

“Textile history and feminist theory are a rich source for learning, reflection and inspiration.”

In my strong palette, all-over imagery, and hanging of loose fabric on the wall, I owe a debt to the Pattern and Decoration Movement. In my use of recycled clothing and sewing construction, I pay homage to the history of women patching together salvaged bits of cloth to make quilts. My conceptual base continues to express my feminism and evaluative nature.

Merill Comeau, Family of Origin Cockcrowing (detail), 2017. 235cm x 195cm (93" x 77"). Painting, dyeing, hand stitching. Composted toile fabrics, discarded indigo dyed fabrics, painted deconstructed garments, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Family of Origin Cockcrowing (detail), 2017. 235cm x 195cm (93″ x 77″). Painting, dyeing, hand stitching. Composted toile fabrics, discarded indigo dyed fabrics, painted deconstructed garments, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Family of Origin Cockcrowing (detail), 2017. 235cm x 195cm (93" x 77"). Painting, dyeing, hand stitching. Composted toile fabrics, discarded indigo dyed fabrics, painted deconstructed garments, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Family of Origin Cockcrowing (detail), 2017. 235cm x 195cm (93″ x 77″). Painting, dyeing, hand stitching. Composted toile fabrics, discarded indigo dyed fabrics, painted deconstructed garments, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Brown Eyed Girl (detail), 2020. 76cm x 213cm (30" x 84"). Painting, printing, collage, appliqué, hand stitch, machine stitch. Repurposed fabrics, thread.
Merill Comeau, Brown Eyed Girl (detail), 2020. 76cm x 213cm (30″ x 84″). Painting, printing, collage, appliqué, hand stitch, machine stitch. Repurposed fabrics, thread.

Woman Interrupted

Tell us about a favourite artwork…

As most of my materials are donated, I often find another person’s stitches on linens and garments. In my stash I found a donated tablecloth with printed crewelwork design lines. An unknown previous owner had begun embroidering with beige wool on beige linen but must have been interrupted as the project was abandoned. 

I researched the Asian, European and American influences that developed crewelwork decorative preferences and designs. I decided to ‘complete’ the project by embroidering large colourful stitches surrounding the incomplete elements. Colour choices and stitch style reflect my contemporary tastes. 

An inherited piece of family crewel embroidery provided additional inspiration. I created stencils inspired by its design of pomegranates and flowers. These simplified and abstracted inked elements, related to my history, populate the open areas of the cloth. The work is titled Woman Interrupted. While making it, I felt connected to women known and unknown, to varied domestic spheres, and felt that I was bringing history into modernity.

Merill Comeau, Woman Interrupted, 2023. 120cm x 180cm (48" x 70"). Stencilling, hand embroidery. Discarded crewel tablecloth kit, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Woman Interrupted, 2023. 120cm x 180cm (48″ x 70″). Stencilling, hand embroidery. Discarded crewel tablecloth kit, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Woman Interrupted (detail), 2023. 120cm x 180cm (48" x 70"). Stencilling, hand embroidery. Discarded crewel tablecloth kit, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Woman Interrupted (detail), 2023. 120cm x 180cm (48″ x 70″). Stencilling, hand embroidery. Discarded crewel tablecloth kit, thread, stencil ink. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.

Would you share a little about your community projects?

In addition to my solo studio practice, I work with community groups, young adults and college students to create collaborative works of art. I’m committed to the use of visual expression as a way of telling stories, transmitting knowledge and teaching values. I offer workshops exploring individual identity and shared group missions. 

Often groups wish to develop further and express their purpose to a wider world. I lead participants through a series of activities exploring their unique characteristics and opinions. Following exercises helps the group to identify what they have in common. These art projects provide opportunities for participants to work out ideas and translate what they have learned into visual representations. 

Past projects have included working with young people to make collaborative wall hangings expressing their experiences in the Massachusetts court system while residing in treatment residences. And I regularly work with multi-generational spiritual communities to create fabric collages that explore and express family life and values. 

In 2020, the Art Lab at Boston’s Institute of Art hosted my participatory project Threads of Connection, in which visitors created symbolic self-portraits to explore the diversity of museum visitors. In addition to helping people grow and learn, the impact of my students’ experiences and my observations of the wider human family provide me with rich inspiration.

Merill Comeau in her studio
Merill Comeau in her studio
Merill Comeau, Foundational Garments, Climbing the Tree of Knowledge (detail), 2016. 61cm x 105cm x 8cm (24" x 42" x 3") Mixed media, hand stitch. Garment of the artist’s deceased mother, paint, sticks, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Foundational Garments, Climbing the Tree of Knowledge (detail), 2016. 61cm x 105cm x 8cm (24″ x 42″ x 3″) Mixed media, hand stitch. Garment of the artist’s deceased mother, paint, sticks, thread. Photo: Will Howcroft Photography.
Merill Comeau, Foundational Garments installation, 2016. Installation dimensions 61cm x 122cm x 25cm (24" x 48" x 10"). Photo: Will Howcroft Photography
Merill Comeau, Foundational Garments installation, 2016. Installation dimensions 61cm x 122cm x 25cm (24″ x 48″ x 10″). Photo: Will Howcroft Photography
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Priscilla Edwards: Hoarder, stitcher and sculptor extraordinaire https://www.textileartist.org/priscilla-edwards-hoarder-stitcher-and-sculptor-extraordinaire/ https://www.textileartist.org/priscilla-edwards-hoarder-stitcher-and-sculptor-extraordinaire/#comments Sun, 07 Jan 2024 21:00:00 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/priscilla-edwards-hoarder-stitcher-and-sculptor-extraordinaire/ A self-described artist, author, educator, stitcher, sculptor, collector, hoarder, embroiderer and talker, Priscilla Edwards takes embroidery to another dimension. Primarily working in 3D, her wire sculptures are imaginative, quirky – and sometimes unsettling.

Using a variety of mixed media techniques and found items, paper and fabric, Priscilla adds texture, colour, and machine and hand stitch to create works that explore themes of memory, identity and nostalgia. Creating is her way of making sense of the world – exploring her emotional connections to her experience even if, at times, that can be challenging. 

Priscilla embraces her creativity through making and being willing to let go and trust in the process to see where experimentation takes her. Patience is an integral part of her process – whether that’s sourcing the perfect item or simply allowing a work in progress to develop organically in its own time.

Starting with my stash

Priscilla Edwards: I connect deeply with my materials; they are the most important part of my practice. Reworking found materials and ephemera is key to how my pieces unfold.

All the fabrics, threads and found objects I use are meaningful and have their own narrative, whether I’ve sourced them myself by visiting fairs and flea markets or I’m using fragments of fabrics inherited from family and friends. The materials also inspire my making. Their worn and faded qualities are so lovely and it’s a privilege to be able to work with something so precious.

Themes come and go but my stash of materials are a constant source of stimulation. My practice is materials led and starts with resourcing found materials where possible. These become the basis for new work.

“Shape, colour, pattern and surface texture are all things I record, either by drawing in my sketchbooks or recording with my phone.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

My observations of film, literature, theatre, along with sound and smell, are all part of how I create work, and I make mental or written notes on these. When I am researching a particular theme I do a lot of studying, drawing and sketching and photography.

I had always disliked photography until I got my first smartphone. This was a huge turning point as finally I found a way I could take photos that suited me. I realised I don’t like holding a camera up to my face so to be able to use something that didn’t require this was revolutionary for me. I now take tons of photos and I am totally addicted.

Priscilla Edwards in her studio. Photo: Prue Edwards.
Priscilla Edwards in her studio.

Meaning through making

I explore themes relating to memory and the emotional connections we have with the things around us. My work is both personal and nostalgic, also drawing ideas and inspiration in a broader context from literature and film, as well as from my ever-evolving collections of found objects. 

I reassemble familiar materials, fusing them together in strange and eclectic ways, resolving as I go the interplay that forms a new identity for each piece.

“I make sense of the world through my making – exploring narratives that evoke a sense of my own experiences, my childhood, and emotional state.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

Some of my work is hard to make. I don’t mean physically, but mentally. As I’ve got older it’s become more complex with layers of my own history, and a sense of place and purpose have developed.

Letting ideas unfold

I usually work on several pieces at once putting materials together and experimenting. The ideas for shapes and surface qualities develop through this process. Sometimes I will start a piece, then leave it for months before returning to it.

This might be because I haven’t found the right materials to complete the work or maybe I just need to contemplate the work for a time before I can resolve the idea. Sometimes I take the work apart completely and reform it – possibly combining it with different materials or joining two or more pieces together.

My process is very organic and I’m not precious about it. If it needs to be cut up or taken apart to refocus the work, then I do just that. It sounds brutal but I find it necessary to progress with an idea and make it work.

“I will rework and rework things many times until I feel it’s right.

It’s something in the gut – an instinct that tells me yes or no.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

You must trust your instinct. I think this comes with experience and practice of understanding yourself and your own work.

I rarely destroy work completely and I have abandoned only a very few pieces of work over the years. Everything is repurposed into something new. I love the idea of an ever-evolving body of work that develops and changes over time.

Priscilla Edwards, Cream Jug, 2010. 13cm x 16cm (5" x 6"). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, buttons, found materials. Photo: Mark Davis.
Priscilla Edwards, Cream Jug, 2010. 13cm x 16cm (5″ x 6″). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, buttons, found materials.
Priscilla Edwards, Love Spoon (detail), 2020. 50cm x 60cm (20" x 24"). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Cotton thread, rayon thread, silk, lace, wax, paint, buttons, found materials, ribbon.
Priscilla Edwards, Love Spoon (detail), 2020. 50cm x 60cm (20″ x 24″). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Cotton thread, rayon thread, silk, lace, wax, paint, buttons, found materials, ribbon.

Eco ethos

Sustainability is at the heart of my practice. Working with found materials is my passion. This ethos has sustained me over the years and contributed to the work I have become known for. It’s essential for me to continue repurposing materials and using fabrics, threads and found objects.

Although it was something very few textile artists were doing 25 years ago, today everyone understands the importance of sustainability and considers more carefully what they buy – even when it comes to art. Nowadays many artists are trying to reuse and repurpose materials in their practice. 

Sustainability doesn’t alter the subject matter I choose to work from, but because my work is materials led, what I can source is important. It’s critical for me to work with materials that have meaning. The tactile qualities of pre-worn fabrics and clothing makes them unique, and any work I make from them can never be repeated.

Because my background is rooted in embroidered textiles this greatly influences the way I make work. I’ve always used a mixed media approach in my practice, and work with many different materials and techniques.

Since most of the time I work with repurposed materials, I spend a lot of effort resourcing these. The increased popularity of making by repurposing materials has impacted on cost and increased the price of my materials, so I have had to increase my prices also.

“While it is getting harder to find some of the types of materials I like to work with, this is a good thing as it pushes me to explore new ways of making work and helps to move my practice forwards.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

I always recommend repurposing materials. If you want to work with materials that don’t have an adverse effect on the planet then persevere and never give up on looking for what you want. It will be out there. If you have items you don’t want or use, then give them away to someone. I would love there to be more opportunities to exchange materials with other makers and artists.

A sculptural approach

My work has developed through experimentation and perseverance. I am a three-dimensional thinker and I love working in 3D – I find it an instinctive process. In fact, creating two-dimensional textiles is a real challenge for me.

I never have a plan, instead, I allow the materials to lead me and manipulate these as I work. Wire allows me to construct and join pieces. Mixed media processes give me the freedom to use whatever comes to hand. 

I think you have to work with techniques that suit your way of making. There is no right or wrong and everyone is different. My best tip is to experiment and find what works for you.

As creatives we need to challenge ourselves to make new work but always consider what are the things we’re good at and develop these in new ways, rather than going back to zero.

I recommend you let an idea, feeling, emotion or similar lead you. Don’t be afraid to follow it. Trust yourself and create according to your strengths.

“Create work you love and don’t let anyone stop you.

If you have a passion, follow your heart and make whatever you want to make.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist
Priscilla Edwards, Mabel & Lucy, 2012. 14cm x 8cm (5½" x 3½") and 12cm x 7cm (4½" x 2¾"). Hand manipulated wire and hand stitch. Wire, found materials, cotton reels, rayon thread.
Priscilla Edwards, Mabel & Lucy, 2012. 14cm x 8cm (5½” x 3½”) and 12cm x 7cm (4½” x 2¾”). Hand manipulated wire and hand stitch. Wire, found materials, cotton reels, rayon thread.
Priscilla Edwards, Polly Put the Kettle On!, 2005. 45cm x 25cm (18" x 10"). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, zips, buttons, found materials. Photo: Mark Davis.
Priscilla Edwards, Polly Put the Kettle On!, 2005. 45cm x 25cm (18″ x 10″). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, zips, buttons, found materials.

Call & response

I am constantly inspired by my own collections of ephemera, vintage textiles and ceramics. It’s important that my work is meaningful, whether it’s inspired by an archive or collection, or something that is deeply connected to me personally.

I recently became very excited by The Gawthorpe Textiles Collection created by the Honourable Rachel Kay-Shuttleworth MBE (1886-1967). The archive is the most wonderful collection of global textiles spanning centuries of textile practice. ​

As members of the art group Decorum, we often work with museum archives making a contemporary response to a permanent collection. We were invited by the curator to use the Rachel Kay Shuttleworth archive for inspiration for Exspiravit, a group exhibition at Gawthorpe Hall

I visited the archive multiple times and I was able to sketch and make drawings of several items. I was particularly captivated by the vast collection of pincushions in the archive. These often tiny, overlooked items were so carefully and beautifully executed I fell in love with them and used the collection to base my contribution to the exhibition. 

During my research, I discovered that pincushions had several different names over the centuries, one of which was ‘Pimpilowes’. This fascinating history was compelling. There is nothing significant or special about a pincushion, but it made me consider more deeply the use of tools in my own practice and the seemingly insignificant.

An embroiderer and seamstress like myself couldn’t manage without these small but precious items. I’ve been so inspired by these textile artefacts I plan to continue to develop more ideas based around pincushions for another exhibition.

Priscilla Edwards, Pimpilowe (detail), 2023. 21cm x 50cm (8" x 20"). Free machine embroidery. Wire, leather, rayon thread.
Priscilla Edwards, Pimpilowe (detail), 2023. 21cm x 50cm (8″ x 20″). Free machine embroidery. Wire, leather, rayon thread.
Priscilla Edwards, Pimpilowe (detail), 2023. 21cm x 50cm (8" x 20"). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, linen thread, cotton thread, silk, cotton, lace, wax, paint, entomology pins, found object.
Priscilla Edwards, Pimpilowe (detail), 2023. 21cm x 50cm (8″ x 20″). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, linen thread, cotton thread, silk, cotton, lace, wax, paint, entomology pins, found object.
Priscilla Edwards, Waistcoat for Summer (detail), 1997. 60cm x 33cm (24" x 13"). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, image maker transfer. Cotton thread, rayon thread, silk, calico, lace, wax, paint, buttons, silk ribbon.
Priscilla Edwards, Waistcoat for Summer (detail), 1997. 60cm x 33cm (24″ x 13″). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, image maker transfer. Cotton thread, rayon thread, silk, calico, lace, wax, paint, buttons, silk ribbon.
Priscilla Edwards, Chatelaine, 2022. 18cm x 42cm (7" x 16"). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, silk, cotton, found materials, beads.
Priscilla Edwards, Chatelaine, 2022. 18cm x 42cm (7″ x 16″). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, silk, cotton, found materials, beads.

Seeds of sustainability

My ‘make do and mend’ ethos has sustained me over the years and contributed to the work I’ve become known for. It has been an integral part of my thinking since I was a child and I can pinpoint exactly when it started.

I often used to go to jumble sales on Saturday afternoons with my grandmother. On one of these occasions, when I was about eight years old, I bought a skirt. I was disappointed to discover there was a hole in the fabric, so my grandmother suggested we give it to my great aunt to repair.

My great aunt was an excellent seamstress and dressmaker so I was really excited to see how she had fixed the hole. When she showed me the repair, I remember the hole had been carefully patched but the patch was made from the same fabric. I couldn’t understand where she had found identical fabric to mend the skirt – I thought it was magic.

My aunt tried to get me to guess but I couldn’t. She then explained she had taken a small section from the belt tie – making it shorter – and used it to make the patch. I was stunned by her creative thinking and the brilliance of her skill.

“At that moment I knew that making, mending, and sewing were all I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

Since then, recycling and repurposing have become second nature to me – they naturally fed into my practice right from the beginning.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist
Priscilla Edwards, Stitch and Mend Pretty Lady, 2022. 12cm x 20cm (5" x 8"). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, silk, wax, paint, entomology pins, tape, found objects.
Priscilla Edwards, Stitch and Mend Pretty Lady, 2022. 12cm x 20cm (5″ x 8″). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, leather, rayon thread, silk, wax, paint, entomology pins, tape, found objects.
Priscilla Edwards, Mend Me, 2022. 18cm x 13cm (7" x 5"). Hand and machine stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, rayon thread, cotton threads, entomology pins, silk, lace net, found objects, butterfly wings.
Priscilla Edwards, Mend Me, 2022. 18cm x 13cm (7″ x 5″). Hand and machine stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, rayon thread, cotton threads, entomology pins, silk, lace net, found objects, butterfly wings.
Priscilla Edwards, Angel of Tea, 2009. 29cm x 23cm (11" x 9"). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, found materials. Photo: Mark Davis.
Priscilla Edwards, Angel of Tea, 2009. 29cm x 23cm (11″ x 9″). Free machine embroidery, hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, found materials.
Priscilla Edwards, Angel, 2012. 14cm x 16cm (5½" x 6½"). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, porcelain, found materials. Photo: Mark Davis.
Priscilla Edwards, Angel, 2012. 14cm x 16cm (5½” x 6½”). Hand stitch, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, wax, rayon thread, paint, lace, porcelain, found materials. Photo: Mark Davis.

People & places

I am from Lancaster, UK, and was brought up in the seaside town of Morecambe; it is the most beautiful place to live. I returned to my hometown after studying in Manchester in the late 1990s. Studying at the Manchester School of Art was an incredible experience.

You really felt a strong sense of history due to the institution’s links with design and industry in the city. The course was thorough and rigorous but also innovative, and staff so inspiring to work with.

“You were always being encouraged to push the boundaries of what embroidery could be.

I don’t think I would be where I am today without this springboard, it opened so many doors for me later.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

After graduating I wanted to stay in the northwest of England, not just because it’s so beautiful and it’s where I’m from, but it’s also such an inspiring part of the UK. The creative industries here are dynamic, there is so much going on and living close to Liverpool and Manchester is a real bonus. 

I now live in Grange-over-Sands on the other side of Morecambe Bay and work from my home studio. From here, I can get to and from most places in a day, including major cities like Glasgow and London. This is important for my teaching practice because I do such a lot of day workshops and short courses.

Most of my family live locally including my parents and sister. They are, and always have been, a huge support over the years. My husband is also creative. We met at college where we were both studying art and design before going off to university. It has been great to share my life with someone who understands the process of making work and working in the creative industries. 

My sister is a photographer and actor, and we have collaborated on some projects in the past. The first time was for an exhibition about Morecambe Bay. I created a piece for an exhibition about two sisters that tragically drowned at the turn of the last century in the bay and my sister made a voiceover to complete the work.

Priscilla Edwards, Ladybird, 2009. 26cm x 17cm (10" x 7"). Free machine embroidery, screen-print, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, leather, buttons, paint, found materials.
Priscilla Edwards, Ladybird, 2009. 26cm x 17cm (10″ x 7″). Free machine embroidery, screen-print, hand manipulated wire. Wire, silk, leather, buttons, paint, found materials.
Priscilla Edwards working at the sewing machine in her studio. Photo: Prue Edwards.
Priscilla Edwards working at the sewing machine in her studio.

The challenge of making

As a self-employed artist, there is always a lot to do: admin, accounts, marketing, photography, planning meetings and visiting and liaising with galleries, delivering and collecting work. Teaching is also a big part of my working week.

I teach independent workshops as well as those for The Open College of the Arts. While I love it, preparing for sessions does take a lot of time and lots of forward planning is key so I can engage with students. I often have to work weekends and I have to be careful to take time off during the week so I get a break. My working week has to be very flexible. 

I am a committee member for an arts organisation and an active member of Decorum, an arts group I co-founded several years ago. We exhibit around the UK and often work with museum archives making a contemporary response to a permanent collection. 

There is such a lot to do as a self-employed artist, and so making work has to be fitted into and around other parts of my working week.

“When I do get to make work, I love to experiment with ideas and processes creating work that is playful and intuitive.

These are the special times when you can really get immersed in the making of new work.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist

Home & away

I’ve been fortunate to exhibit work all over the UK and beyond; I’ve shown work in Sweden, Germany and the USA. I also used to do a lot of freelance embroidery, designing for fashion fabrics selling in Paris, New York and Japan.

I really enjoyed the challenge of working in this industry. Because much of the work was creating patterns and motifs, I became a much more competent embroiderer. 

I began to focus more on making one-off pieces for galleries in 2002. This led me to exhibit regularly for a decade at The British Craft Trade Fair.  It was here that I won my first award. It was a lovely moment to be selected when there were so many other talented artists creating work at such a high standard.

It was during my time exhibiting here that I was inspired to open my gallery, which I had for just over seven years. I loved working with so many artists from around the UK and having the opportunity to curate some beautiful exhibitions.

In 2019, I was invited by Search Press to write a book about my sculptural textiles for The Textile Artist series. I worked with a superb team, who really brought my work to life, and I’m extremely proud of what we achieved. I feel honoured to be part of this series.

I’ve been lucky to have had great features in several magazines both in the UK and the US. Sew Somerset based in California have done lots of features and interviews using my work in several of their publications. I really value their support for my practice. 

I have been privileged to work with Fiber Arts Australia. They invited me to Victoria to teach at their Autumn School. It was a truly inspiring experience and amazing to be working alongside so many talented artists from around the world.

“Working with international magazines, publishers and arts organisations has been incredible, as you get a valuable insight into how other countries view textiles art.”

Priscilla Edwards, Textile artist
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Textile art books: Bring sustainability and wellbeing into your art practice https://www.textileartist.org/textile-art-books-bring-sustainability-and-wellbeing-into-your-art-practice/ https://www.textileartist.org/textile-art-books-bring-sustainability-and-wellbeing-into-your-art-practice/#comments Sun, 16 Jul 2023 19:00:00 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/textile-art-books-bring-sustainability-and-wellbeing-into-your-art-practice/ ‘Make it do, do without, use it up, wear it out’.

My mother was a young girl during America’s Great Depression, and she also had family members who somehow survived the Dust Bowl years. She grew up hearing this saying, and she repeated it often to me, especially when I thought I needed something new to wear. ‘You can fix that’ was her approach to everything, especially when it came to textiles and clothing.

In a world focused on consumerism, textile artists are increasingly questioning the need for ‘new’ and are instead choosing to use vintage fabrics or incorporate visible mending and other sustainable approaches. And some artists incorporate natural materials or take a meditative approach to their work, inspired by the sights, sounds and rhythms of nature.

Working sustainably is great for your wellbeing. Whether you’re experimenting with natural materials, experiencing slow stitching or connecting with nature through your art practice, this philosophy will bring mental, physical and spiritual benefits.

But knowing where to start can be overwhelming. What should I make with that old tablecloth and how do I work around those stains? How do I reconnect with nature? Where do I source older textiles? What’s recyclable and what’s not? How do I work more sustainably?

This booklist has the answers you need. These expert authors will help you imagine, source and create your own textile art using a variety of techniques, including dyeing your own fabrics, incorporating found objects and natural materials, and exploring unique threadwork. You’ll also discover the benefits of connecting with nature to inspire your creativity.

Create Naturally: Go Outside and Rediscover Nature with 15 Artists

Learn from 15 makers who share their philosophies and step by step processes to create nature connected works. They not only share tips and suggestions for creating your own art, but they also articulate the physical, mental and spiritual benefits they gain from working with natural, recycled and repurposed materials. 

Featured works include a nature journal, baskets, temporary beach structures, dyed textile and woven wall art, and embroidery. The book’s luscious pictures and interesting stories make readers feel as if they’re having a personal creative conversation with the makers.

Author Marcia Young has been making and writing about art and fine craft for over 30 years. She is the founder of the Fiber Art Network and former publisher of Fiber Art Now magazine.

Create Naturally: Go Outside and Rediscover Nature with 15 Artists (2023) by Marcia Young. ISBN 978-0764364341

Wild Textiles: Grown, Foraged, Found

Textile artist Alice Fox is known for her remarkable use of natural and found objects. And she’s now sharing advice on how to work with foraged, gathered and grown materials to create fabulous textile art pieces. You’ll be amazed by the possibilities! Weeds, dandelions and other plants are useful as cordage, while leaves can be stitched, quilted and shaped into vessels. 

Alice also describes how grass, wool, plastics and mud can be delightfully repurposed, along with stones, shells and a multitude of urban treasures. She encourages makers to be open minded and experimental as they work with seasonal bounties to create art that bears a strong sense of place and character.

Alice Fox, Walking Balls, 2014-2016. Each ball approx 5cm x 7cm (2" x 3") in diameter. Created using gathered materials to record places visited. Grasses twisted into cordage, seaweed, moss and bracken. Photo: Michael Wicks.
Alice Fox, Walking Balls, 2014-2016. Each ball approx 5cm x 7cm (2″ x 3″) in diameter. Created using gathered materials to record places visited. Grasses twisted into cordage, seaweed, moss and bracken. Photo: Michael Wicks.

Author Alice Fox is an embroiderer and textile artist who uses techniques from textiles, soft basketry and printmaking. She is based in Saltaire, West Yorkshire (UK), and exhibits and teaches across the globe.

Wild Textiles: Grown, Foraged, Found (2022) by Alice Fox. ISBN 978-1849947879

Resilient Stitch book cover

Resilient Stitch: Wellbeing and Connection in Textile Art

Following up on her renowned book Slow Stitch, Claire Wellesley-Smith considers the connection and ideas around wellbeing when using textiles for individuals and communities. 

Claire and other contemporary textile artists share practical ideas for ‘thinking through making’, using ‘resonant’ materials, and extending the life of pieces using traditional and non-traditional methods. Community based textile projects are also featured, including a moving account of one textile community’s creative response to the Covid-19 pandemic.

The connection between wellbeing and the creation of textiles has never been stronger. Recommendations for resilient fabrics that can be manipulated, stressed, withstand tension and be made anew are offered throughout the book. Claire and featured artists also explain techniques for layering, patching, reinforcing and mending. The overarching goal is to help makers explore ways to link their emotional health with their textile practice.

Claire Wellesley-Smith, Stitch Journal (detail), 2013-2023. 890cm x 60cm (350" x 23”). Hand stitch. Reclaimed linen, naturally dyed silk, thread. Photo: Michael Wicks.
Claire Wellesley-Smith, Stitch Journal (detail), 2013-2023. 890cm x 60cm (350″ x 23”). Hand stitch. Reclaimed linen, naturally dyed silk, thread. Photo: Michael Wicks.

Stitch Club member Rosalind Byass is a big fan of Claire’s books and says she has read them from cover to cover several times.

‘Her first book, Slow Stitch, is like a stitch meditation. Its calm colours, cloth cover and peaceful visual layout make it one of my favourite textile books. I love Claire’s style of writing and her attitude and approach to life. Be sure to read her page on repair. It will change your view about things not being perfect. The section on stitching and mental health is also uplifting.’

Stitch Club member Joekie Blom is also a fan of Claire’s first book Slow Stitch.

‘It’s wonderful. I especially love the natural dyeing Claire describes. I changed all my not-so-liked threads into wonderful colours.’

Author Claire Wellesley-Smith is based in Yorkshire, UK. She teaches extensively in adult education, schools, community based projects, museums and galleries.

Resilient Stitch: Wellbeing and Connection in Textile Art (2021) by Claire Wellesley-Smith. ISBN 978-1849946070

Wild Colour book cover

Wild Colour: How to Make and Use Natural Dyes

Natural dyes are a wonderful way to add colour and dimension to your textile art, but knowing the ‘what’ and ‘how’ in working with plants can be a challenge. Jenny Dean’s book is a practical and inspiring all-in-one resource for textile artists of all genres, including knitters, sewers and weavers. 

More than 65 species of plants and natural dyestuffs are featured, and Jenny carefully explains how to select fibres and plant parts and then choose the right methods for mordanting and dyeing. She also describes how to obtain a range of gorgeous colours from every plant using environmentally friendly dyeing techniques.

Author Jenny Dean has been using natural dyes for over 40 years and has written several books on the subject. She also lectures and leads workshops on natural dyeing, and she enjoys hand spinning, knitting and other textile arts.

Wild Colour: How to Make and Use Natural Dyes (2018) by Jenny Dean. ISBN 978-1784725532

Textures from Nature in Textile Art: Natural Inspiration for Mixed-Media and Textile Artists

This book is for artists wanting to combine unusual recycled and repurposed materials with traditional fabric and thread. Textile artist Marian Jazmik reveals the secrets of her lushly textured and sculptural embroidered pieces, from initial photography to finished objects. Who knew a chance spotting of lichen on a tree trunk or scattering of autumn leaves could lead to such glorious textile art?

This book is packed with practical tips and illustrated examples of a myriad of Marian’s techniques. She takes the fear out of working with images and helps makers translate those images into three dimensional works using an eclectic mix of natural and synthetic materials. Hand and machine embroidery, as well as dyeing, printing and painting techniques, are also explained.

Marian Jazmik, Lichen on Rock 1 & 2, 2018. 25cm x 8cm (10" x 3") each. Lichen on Rock 1: Dyed interfacing, scrim and Dipryl. Free machining. Applied dyed and cut paper straws and wool snippets. Hand embroidery using seeding stitch. Lichen on Rock 2: Dyed interfacing with sparsely applied EXpandIT for 3D texture. Free machining and cut back appliqué. Applied rusty washers. Overlaid on painted handmade paper. Hand embroidered with French knots. Photo: Michael Wicks.
Marian Jazmik, Lichen on Rock 1 & 2, 2018. 25cm x 8cm (10″ x 3″) each. Lichen on Rock 1: Dyed interfacing, scrim and Dipryl. Free machining. Applied dyed and cut paper straws and wool snippets. Hand embroidery using seeding stitch. Lichen on Rock 2: Dyed interfacing with sparsely applied EXpandIT for 3D texture. Free machining and cut back appliqué. Applied rusty washers. Overlaid on painted handmade paper. Hand embroidered with French knots. Photo: Michael Wicks.

Stitch Club member Zara Muradyan is a fan of Marian’s book.

‘I would recommend it to anyone who is looking for new ways to explore textural surfaces while using everyday materials. Great resource for upcycling while creating sophisticated artwork!’

Author Marian Jazmik is based in Bolton, Lancashire, UK, and she has exhibited widely, including at The Knitting and Stitching Shows, Home in Manchester and with Prism textiles group in London and Birmingham.

Textures from Nature in Textile Art: Natural Inspiration for Mixed Media and Textile Artists (2021) by Marian Jazmik. ISBN 978-1849946704

The Wild Dyer: A Maker’s Guide with Natural Dyes with Projects to Create and Stitch

Fabrics coloured with natural dyes have a beauty and subtlety all their own. Onion and avocado skins, chamomile and birch bark, and even nettles and acorns can produce lovely, ethereal colours and effects. 

Abigail Booth takes the reader’s hand to help demystify how to forage and grow dying materials. She fully explains her dyeing process, including workspace setup, equipment and fabric choices and care. Beautiful photographs are complemented by easy to follow instructions. 

In this book, Abigail also shares unique sewing projects for using your beautifully dyed fabrics, including a drawstring foraging bag, a gardener’s smock and a reversible patchwork blanket. Both beginners and experienced artists will enjoy Abigail’s journey from her kitchen to the great outdoors.

Author Abigail Booth is based in London, UK, and is co-founder of the studio collective Forest + Found. She works in textiles, drawing and painting, and exhibits in the UK and internationally.

The Wild Dyer: A Maker’s Guide with Natural Dyes with Projects to Create and Stitch (2017) by Abigail Booth. ISBN 978-0857833952

Eco Colour: Botanical Dyes for Beautiful Textiles

No matter your experience with using botanical dyes, India Flint leads the way. She explores the fascinating and infinitely variable world of plant colour, including gathering, preparing and processing plants. 

From whole dyed cloth and applied colour to prints and layered dye techniques, India uses renewable resources and shows how to do the least possible harm to the dyer and the environment. Her recipes include a number of processes uniquely developed by India, as well as guidelines for plant collection and using nontoxic mordants.

Author India Flint is an artist and writer whose works are represented in collections and museums in Germany, Latvia and Australia. She lives on a farm in rural South Australia, researching plant dyes, making artworks and planting trees.

Eco Colour: Botanical Dyes for Beautiful Textiles (2021) by India Flint. ISBN 978-1911668404

Textiles Transformed: Thread and thrift with reclaimed textiles

There’s something quite magical about textile collage using vintage textiles, and Mandy Pattullo is an expert. Following the make do and mend and folk art traditions of previous generations, Mandy provides simple instructions for working with a variety of antique textiles and precious fragments. The book is filled with ideas for embellishment, stitch and appliqué, as well as tips for transforming materials into impressive quilts, bags, books, tablecloths, tapestry panels, wall hangings and more.

Mandy also shares project ideas for working with quilts, patchworks, linen, lace, wool and deconstructed preloved garments. Each project beautifully demonstrates how makers can incorporate beautiful fabric and stitch finds from the past.

Mandy Pattullo, 642 (detail), 2019. 24cm x 32 cm (9½" x 12½"). Appliqué and embroidery. Vintage fabrics, threads.
Mandy Pattullo, 642 (detail), 2019. 24cm x 32 cm (9½” x 12½”). Appliqué and embroidery. Vintage fabrics, threads.

Author Mandy Pattullo trained as a surface pattern and textile designer and is now a textile artist who exhibits and teaches across the UK. Her work is based on collage techniques, and she makes a conscious effort to repurpose existing textiles.

Textiles Transformed: Thread and thrift with reclaimed textiles by Mandy Pattullo (2020). ISBN  978-1849945806

Mending with Boro: Japanese Running Stitch & Patching Techniques

One simple stitch can bring new life to hundreds of your favourite things! Harumi Horiuchi introduces the simple straight (running) stitch called sashiko (it translates as ‘little stabs’), used to repair and reinforce fabrics. This process of repair, and the philosophy of finding beauty in mending, emerged in Japan and is known as boro. It’s a favourite technique among visible mending enthusiasts, as it adds intriguing textural elements to garments and home furnishings.

Harumi’s approach is simple: the things you love are worth fixing. She helps makers discover the pleasure of working with old fabrics and making classic neutrals come alive. Whether readers want to reinforce, repair or remake an entire garment with patches, Harumi’s demonstrations and instructions are easy and enjoyable. Not only will fabrics and garments gain a new look and feel, but the environment will also be grateful.

Author Harumi Horiuchi is an expert in repurposing old fabrics, particularly linen. She has co-authored other books in her native Japan about the joy of reworking and wearing old clothing.

Mending with Boro: Japanese Running Stitch & Patching Techniques (2023) by Harumi Horiuchi. ISBN 978-0804856041

Creative Mending: Beautiful Darning, Patching and Stitching Techniques

Mending is truly an art form in the hands of Hikaru Noguchi, and she’s sharing her entire range of techniques for embroidering, patching, darning and felting. Noguchi’s basic rule of mending is that a repair should suit the fabric and its user, so she provides 13 illustrated lessons and over 300 colour photos to help readers make the statement (or not) they want.

Learn how to use yarn, floss, ribbon and fabric to reinvent well loved garments, as well as ways to manoeuvre through tricky places like inseams and underarms. Numerous variations and 67 different tips and examples provide all the guidance you need to rethink and repair beautifully.

Author Hikaru Noguchi moved from Japan to England in 1989 to study constructed textiles, which led to collaborations with several British designers, including Tom Dixon and Barneys. Hikaru has participated in many international exhibitions, and her work is sold in boutiques and department stores in London, Paris, New York and Tokyo.

Creative Mending: Beautiful Darning, Patching and Stitching Techniques (2022) by Hikaru Noguchi. ISBN 978-0804854740

Stitched Mixed Media

‘Embellishment’ is what Jessica Grady is all about, and she’s well known for literally turning trash into whimsical and colourful treasures. This book is packed with colour, ideas and enthusiasm as she helps readers look at the potential of recycled products. She then explains how to turn those finds into beautiful embellishments for hand stitching onto samples. 

Projects and step by step sequences demonstrate her exciting process of playing with textiles and mixed media to create new and unique works. Jessica helps readers build a basic tool kit, as well as provides ideas for sourcing and organising supplies, making a stitch library of samples, and using threads creatively. 2D and 3D techniques are clearly explained for creating unique pieces and helping readers develop their own artistic voice.

Jessica Grady, stitched mixed media materials.
Jessica Grady, stitched mixed media materials.

Author Jessica Grady is based in West Yorkshire, UK, where she is a member of Art Textiles Made in Britain. Her work has been exhibited internationally, and in 2018, she was named as the ‘Under 30’s Scholar’ by The Embroiderers’ Guild. Jessica is also a passionate teacher who teaches stitch and recycling through various workshops and community projects.

Stitched Mixed Media (2023) by Jessica Grady. ISBN 978-0719842238

Books featured in this article

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Looking for more book suggestions? Check out our list of the best hand embroidery reference books.

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Discover: The power of print https://www.textileartist.org/print-textile-art/ https://www.textileartist.org/print-textile-art/#comments Fri, 24 Mar 2023 10:07:51 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/print-textile-art/ Textile artists who incorporate hand printing into their work know even their best laid plans can waver. Everything involved with printed surface design is up for grabs, including the physical pressure applied to a stamp or screen, room humidity, the type and strength of print materials, and base fabrics. Each printed pull or stamp is different from the rest.

We’re excited to introduce you to five artists who embrace and celebrate the inherent serendipity of printed surface design. While each artist has unique mark making techniques, they all agree the ‘anything can happen’ creative process is exciting. Every print is an experiment of sorts, and their hits and misses are equally gorgeous.

We start with Amarjeet Nandhra, who taps into her Indian heritage by using phulkaris to illustrate the devastation of displacement. Sue Hotchkis then showcases the impact of climate change through her printed and layered textile ‘fragments’. Bobbi Baugh explores the notion of ‘home’ across three heavily printed and stitched panels, followed by Leah Higgins, whose breakdown printing technique captures the ruins of the UK’s industrial mills. Finally, Ross Belton takes us to Africa and Japan through his traditional Ukhamba vessels.

Amarjeet Nandhra

India’s 1947 partition caused one of history’s largest forced migrations. As Pakistan and India gained independence from Britain, a bloody upheaval displaced between 10 and 12 million people, including Amarjeet Nandhra’s ancestors. Communities were fractured, and many cultural arts were lost.

In light of that loss, Amarjeet wanted to reconnect to textiles from her Indian heritage, especially exploring the traditional patterns and symbols featured in phulkaris. These different styles of embroidered shawls originally from the Punjab region became her palette for sharing her own migration story.

Amarjeet Nandhra, Displacement, 2017. 80cm x 150cm (31” x 59”). Screen printing and hand stitch. Butter muslin, mercerized cotton.
Amarjeet Nandhra, Displacement, 2017. 80cm x 150cm (31” x 59”). Screen printing and hand stitch. Butter muslin, mercerized cotton.
Amarjeet Nandhra, Displacement (detail), 2017. 80cm x 150cm (31” x 59”). Screen printing and hand stitch. Butter muslin, mercerized cotton.
Amarjeet Nandhra, Displacement (detail), 2017. 80cm x 150cm (31” x 59”). Screen printing and hand stitch. Butter muslin, mercerized cotton.

‘My research revealed phulkaris have historically been viewed through a rather superficial lens. They’re often seen as simple colourful handicrafts or hobbies. That reductive view prevents a deeper understanding of the ways in which phulkaris mapped and documented the daily lives and social relationships of the makers.’

Amarjeet also discovered the earliest sample of phulkari dated in the 15th century was embroidered by the sister of the first guru of Sikhism. As a Sikh herself, that discovery further fueled her work.

Amarjeet’s creative process started with a rough draft showing how to build the layers of print. She then sampled ways to portray the layered figures using both a photographic and paper stencil. While the photographic stencil felt too clean and crisp, it allowed Amarjeet to experiment with different tonal values to create shadow figures. Ultimately, she hand painted directly on a screen using drawing fluid and screen block to create a softer, fractured quality.

Two layers of muslin were used in this work. The first layer features strong silhouettes, but it’s also somewhat transparent, creating a sense of something else going on in the background with the paler silhouettes showing through. After all the figures were printed in varying shades of grey and black, Amarjeet screen printed a traditional phulkari pattern in yellow using a hand cut freezer paper stencil. That layer also acted as her stitching guide.

‘I wanted the stitching to depict the fractious and destructive nature of forced migration. So, at the beginning of the piece, the repeating phulkari patterns are stitched in completely. However, the stitching unravels ever more across the rest of the piece to emphasise the damage and destruction of displacement.’

Amarjeet says print has always played a big part in her art since her first job at a print cooperative which produced banners for trade unions and many social causes. She was struck by the bold designs and repetition of images that could carry a message and communicate a story.

‘I love the physicality of printing, the smell of the inks and the sound of ink being spread out using a roller. Building up layers is the foundation of my practice. There is something magical about revealing the print and discovering the unexpected.’

Amarjeet Nandhra in her home studio.
Amarjeet Nandhra in her home studio.

Amarjeet Nandhra is based in northwest London, UK. In addition to being an artist, Amarjeet is also an educator at an independent textile school where she runs international teaching holidays and short courses. Amarjeet gained First Class Honours in creative art, and she is a member of The Textile Study Group.

Artist website: amarjeetnandhra.com

Facebook: facebook.com/amarjeetnandhra

Instagram: @amarjeetknandhra

Sue Hotchkis

The UK’s epic heatwave in 2022 led to fires, water shortages and thousands of deaths. Sue Hotchkis experienced it firsthand, and she described it as the planet’s way of screaming for help. The heatwave also intensified her existing anger at the government for its lack of concern for climate change, and both the heat and emotions collided to create Drought of Honesty.

‘The repercussions of climate change and concerns caused by humans’ destructive impact on the physical environment persist on a global level. Rising sea levels and increasing temperatures affect our everyday lives. Have we disconnected from the earth’s warnings? Are we being told the truth?’

Sue Hotchkis, Drought of Honesty, 2022. 119cm x 110cm (47” x 43”). Screen print, discharge print, quilting, appliqué, free motion and digital stitch. Cotton and voile.
Sue Hotchkis, Drought of Honesty, 2022. 119cm x 110cm (47” x 43”). Screen print, discharge print, quilting, appliqué, free motion and digital stitch. Cotton and voile.
Sue Hotchkis, Drought of Honesty (detail), 2022. 119cm x 110cm (47” x 43”). Screen print, discharge print, quilting, appliqué, free motion and digital stitch. Cotton and voile.
Sue Hotchkis, Drought of Honesty (detail), 2022. 119cm x 110cm (47” x 43”). Screen print, discharge print, quilting, appliqué, free motion and digital stitch. Cotton and voile.

This work started from a photograph Sue had taken at a rooftop café in New York. She had glanced over a wall meant to hide an air conditioning system and saw a pattern on the ground that looked as if something had been spilt or leaked. She grabbed her ever-ready camera and started taking close-up photos from all angles.

‘It looked like the cracked earth one sees from a drought. The substance had dried and cracked in the sun, and the pattern created an amazing image.’

It’s important to note that Sue’s artistic approach celebrates all things that are falling apart. She relishes decay in urban and rural environments, including peeling paint, rusted metal, cracked sidewalks, or a rotting log. She’ll take hundreds of pictures to capture the rich colours and textures that inform her ‘fragmented’ works of art.

For this work, Sue first used Photoshop to create images suitable for making thermofax screens (like a silk screen) for printing. She then hand dyed and printed on top of cotton fabric using Procion dye and discharge paste. Next, she created a design on her computerised sewing machine to stitch on top of the printed fabric. Strips of voile were then appliquéd using free-motion stitching. Other fabrics were then added and removed to form the overall shape. Finally, the printed and stitched fabric was laid over wadding and a backing fabric and quilted together. The right-hand side falls forward intentionally to create a 3D effect.

‘I’m inspired by erosion and decay. I aim to capture and convey the unconscious beauty of the way materials slowly break down over time by creating abstract fragments that hover between object and image. Shape and structure is integral to my practice, along with surface and texture.’

Sue says her work is also strongly influenced by the Japanese aesthetic of wabisabi that accepts transience and imperfection. It celebrates the effects of the passage of time, and this work in particular alludes to the rhythm and flow in nature using patterns formed by a drought.

Sue Hotchkis working in her studio.
Sue Hotchkis working in her studio.

Sue Hotchkis is based on the Black Isle in the Highlands of Scotland. She has participated in numerous group and solo exhibitions, most recently a solo show Alchemy at the Timeless Textiles Gallery, Australia (2019). She was the silver medal winner at the Scythia 12th International Biennial of Contemporary Textile Art, Ukraine (2018) and winner of Studio Art Quilt Association’s ‘Golden Hour’ fabric design competition (2017). Sue is also a member of Quilt Art.

Artist website: suehotchkis.com

Facebook: facebook.com/SueHotchkisTextiles

Instagram: @suehotchkis

Bobbi Baugh

They say home is where the heart is, and in Bobbi Baugh’s world, that heart is comprised of complex layers. The concept of ‘home’ has long been a favourite theme, and Bobbi’s earlier works depicted physical houses and a young girl on a journey. But this work captures the sense of movement in a home’s interior without creating a literal space.

‘I’m most interested in what is not immediately visible. And I am especially intrigued with seeing internal and external events in layers and depicting the two in composition together.’

Bobbi Baugh, They Built Their House of Twigs, 2022. 109cm x 185cm (43” x 73”). Photo transfer, monotype, resist and relief prints, screen print, direct painting. Canvas, muslin, sheer polyester, eco felt, acrylic paints and mediums.
Bobbi Baugh, They Built Their House of Twigs, 2022. 109cm x 185cm (43” x 73”). Photo transfer, monotype, resist and relief prints, screen print, direct painting. Canvas, muslin, sheer polyester, eco felt, acrylic paints and mediums.
Bobbi Baugh, They Built Their House of Twigs (detail), 2022. 109cm x 185cm (43” x 73”). Photo transfer, monotype, resist and relief prints, screen print, direct painting. Canvas, muslin, sheer polyester, eco felt, acrylic paints and mediums.
Bobbi Baugh, They Built Their House of Twigs (detail), 2022. 109cm x 185cm (43” x 73”). Photo transfer, monotype, resist and relief prints, screen print, direct painting. Canvas, muslin, sheer polyester, eco felt, acrylic paints and mediums.

This work’s external elements of a tree, gate, door and interwoven twigs are all photo transfers. Gel medium was used to transfer laser colour copies of original photos onto the fabric. To create the internal spaces, Bobbi used monoprinting and stitching to create patterned and textured window openings that invite the viewer to wonder ‘what’s in there?’. She also juxtaposed recognisable objects with ambiguous shapes and patterns to create a sense of dreaming.

Lastly, a path is suggested across all three panels to create a sense of journey. Birds on the first panel draw the viewer through the gate over to the door in the second panel. Viewers’ eyes then travel across the second panel through the window into the third panel, possibly landing in the bundle of intricate twigs. Birds serve as messengers and guides along the way.

‘Many ideas are sewn into this work. Home is a complex place where memories are intertwined with fragile lives. Leaving and finding home involves a journey. Dreams, memories and reality overlap. I hope viewers bring their own ideas and history to find meaning in the work.’

Bobbi says her 35-year commercial printing career cultivated an understanding of the rhythm of printing: ink the plate, create an image on that plate, press the fabric against it, pull the image, repeat. But ink is now replaced with acrylic paint, and plates are now made of gelatin or other low-tech relief techniques. Still, the results are striking, and it’s especially remarkable knowing this entire work started with white sheer polyesters and unbleached cotton muslin.

Printed fabrics are then gathered and stitching begins. Paint and collaged fabrics can be quite stiff, so Bobbi uses her sewing machines to stitch and quilt. Because they are small, narrow-throat portables, Bobbi stitches and quilts in sections, and then the sections are attached to the backing.

‘Construction of this work was an experiment for me, especially figuring out how to have multiple panels speak to each other. But I was invigorated by the ongoing energy of the composition as it emerged across the panels.’

Bobbi Baugh assembling artwork in her studio.
Bobbi Baugh assembling artwork in her studio.

Bobbi Baugh is based in Florida, US. She has extensively exhibited her work in group and solo shows across the US. She earned second place in the Nature Conservancy’s ‘Nature Inspires Art’ show in Kissimmee, Florida (2021) and first place in d’Art Center’s ‘Material II: National Exhibition of Fiber Artwork’ in Norfolk, VA (2020). She also wrote It was there I believed: a collection of visual artwork and poetry (2021).

Artist website: bobbibaughstudio.com/

Facebook: facebook.com/bobbibaughart

Instagram: @bobbibaughart

Leah Higgins

Leah Higgins admits she’s a control freak by nature, so creating random and abstract marks in her textile art was a challenge. She knew how to dye her own fabric, and she had learned several screen printing techniques. But it wasn’t until she discovered breakdown printing (also called deconstructed printing in the US) that she truly found her creative voice.

‘I experimented and experimented until I had a set of techniques that created the patterns and marks I wanted. The process was quite wasteful at first, but it ultimately helped me express so much more.’

Leah Higgins, Ruins 9: Cottonopolis Revisited, 2018. 256cm x 132cm (8’ x 4’). Screen printing, dyeing, collage and piecing, machine quilting. Artist’s own printed and dyed cotton fabrics, acrylic felt wadding, hand-dyed cotton backing and Madeira Cotona threads.
Leah Higgins, Ruins 9: Cottonopolis Revisited, 2018. 256cm x 132cm (8’ x 4’). Screen printing, dyeing, collage and piecing, machine quilting. Artist’s own printed and dyed cotton fabrics, acrylic felt wadding, hand-dyed cotton backing and Madeira Cotona threads.
Leah Higgins, Ruins 9: Cottonopolis Revisited (detail), 2018. 256cm x 132cm (8’ x 4’). Screen printing, dyeing, collage and piecing, machine quilting. Artist’s own printed and dyed cotton fabrics, acrylic felt wadding, hand-dyed cotton backing and Madeira Cotona threads.
Leah Higgins, Ruins 9: Cottonopolis Revisited (detail), 2018. 256cm x 132cm (8’ x 4’). Screen printing, dyeing, collage and piecing, machine quilting. Artist’s own printed and dyed cotton fabrics, acrylic felt wadding, hand-dyed cotton backing and Madeira Cotona threads.

Breakdown printing is a form of screen printing in which thickened dye acts as a form of temporary resist when applied directly to the back of a screen. The screen is left to dry before being pulled with either print paste or more thickened dye. The dried dye blocks the new dye or paste from passing through the mesh onto the fabric. As additional media is applied, the dried dye starts breaking down, resulting in unique marks and patterns for every pulled print.

‘I love the serendipity of breakdown printing and the fact I’m not 100 per cent in control. There is something wonderful about starting with a piece of white fabric and adding colour and mark.’

Ruins 9; Cottonopolis Revisited is part of an abstract series exploring what happens to unused buildings and industrial structures. In the 19th century, Manchester (UK) was nicknamed ‘Cottonopolis’ for its cotton industry which spanned 100-plus mills and nearly half a million employees. As the industry declined, mills were abandoned, demolished and repurposed. Still more were left to decay and erode, inspiring this work and others in her Ruins series.

Instead of using sketchbooks, Leah prefers to let ideas evolve and mature in her head. Because she works in series, she wants to be sure her subject is interesting enough to inspire multiple works. It can be a lengthy process, but once she starts creating a series, ideas flow quickly from one piece to the next.

For this work, Leah first used breakdown printing to create a collection of fabrics in her preferred colour palette. She then cut the fabrics into ‘bricks’ that were randomly arranged and pieced onto felt. The first layer of stitch was added using a sewing machine that could handle the dense marks. Leah used appliqué and more stitch to add chimneys. Finally, the entire work was backed with hand-dyed cotton fabric.

‘Although printing is the most important part of my process, I am still a patchwork and quilter at heart. Quilting makes a significant difference in my work’s appearance, helping obscure the fact my art is made from many individual pieces. Stitch also allows me to add additional elements such as ghost-like buildings. For me, there is also a quiet joy in adding stitches.’

Leah Higgins demonstrating printing techniques at The Scottish Quilting Show in Glasgow.
Leah Higgins demonstrating printing techniques at The Scottish Quilting Show in Glasgow.

Leah Higgins is a textile artist, author and teacher based in Manchester, UK. Her art quilts have been exhibited widely in solo, group and curated exhibitions. She won the Art category at The Festival of Quilts twice and won Best in Show at Quilt=Art=Quilt in 2018. Leah also authored Breakdown Your Palette and Colour Your Palette.

Artist website: leahhiggins.co.uk

Facebook: facebook.com/LeahHigginsArtist

Instagram: @leahhigginsartist

Ross Belton

Ross Belton spent many childhood holidays along Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal coast. When not at the beach, his family explored rural areas and many roadside markets. Ross marvelled at the residents’ ingenious use of found materials to create art, and now that same repurposing informs his own textile art.

‘The craftspeople worked with whatever they had to hand. They recycled everything from tin cans, bottle tops, cable wire and cloth fibres. I always coveted their wire cars with wheels made from shoe polish tin lids. My textile art similarly explores and embraces the flaws and hidden beauty often missed in everyday things.’

As an adult, Ross collected traditional African fabrics, including mud cloth and woven raffia Kuba cloths. Then after seeing a Japanese boro exhibition, Ross was again blown away by boro’s purposeful use of recycled materials. He took an indigo/shibori workshop run in conjunction with the exhibition and was hooked. His work now blends African and Japanese traditions with print and dye in a sustainable fashion.

Ross Belton, Ukhamba Gauze Bowl, 2022. 35cm x 30cm (14” x 12”). Iron-contact printing, natural dye and hand stitch. Cotton scrim, cotton thread and logwood dye. Photo: Jonathan Dredge
Ross Belton, Ukhamba Gauze Bowl, 2022. 35cm x 30cm (14” x 12”). Iron-contact printing, natural dye and hand stitch. Cotton scrim, cotton thread and logwood dye. Photo: Jonathan Dredge
Ross Belton, Ukhamba Gauze Bowl (detail), 2022. 35cm x 30cm (14” x 12”). Iron-contact printing, natural dye and hand stitch. Cotton scrim, cotton thread and logwood dye. Photo: Jonathan Dredge
Ross Belton, Ukhamba Gauze Bowl (detail), 2022. 35cm x 30cm (14” x 12”). Iron-contact printing, natural dye and hand stitch. Cotton scrim, cotton thread and logwood dye. Photo: Jonathan Dredge

This work is one of several ‘Ukhamba’ bowls Ross has created that mimic traditional Zulu rimless clay beer pots. The pots were used in ceremonial drinking of beer to remember and appease ancestors. The pot would traditionally be passed among males from the eldest to the youngest.

Ross especially sought to explore the ‘tannin iron complex’ in dyeing his bowls by using only natural coloured dyes that are modified by iron (rust). For this bowl, gauze was wrapped around blacksmithing tools, and then the bundles were left outside to be naturally wetted by rain, creating unpredictable rust marks reminiscent of the clay beer pots. Once the rust process was complete, Ross dyed the bundles with logwood, knowing the dye would darken the cloth and further enhance the rusted metal marks. He describes the end result as ‘textile alchemy’.

‘My biggest challenge was getting the fabric to hold its shape. I used plaster of Paris in my early experiments, but it dried very hard and made stitching difficult. After much experimentation, I now use a combination of PVA glue and starch which varies depending upon the size of the bowl.’

Boro stitching is then used to keep the fabric in place for the dyeing process, as well as to embellish the bowl. Linen thread is used for foundation stitching due to its strength and ability to absorb dye which helps it blend into the background. White cotton crochet and sashiko threads are then used for decorative stitchwork.

‘Much like the vintage metal tools I collect, I use secondhand or vintage threads. In our throwaway society, youngsters tend to toss “old junk” when clearing a relative’s home. So, I often buy old sewing baskets that house an endless variety of useful tools and threads.’

Ross Belton creating Urban Mythology Regalia in his home studio. Photo: Jonathan Dredge
Ross Belton creating Urban Mythology Regalia in his home studio. Photo: Jonathan Dredge

Ross Belton is based in London, UK. He has exhibited his work extensively in Europe, most recently at the Lloyd’s Register Foundation ‘Safer World Conference 2022’ and the Embassy of Japan, Piccadilly London (2020). Russ also established a Nomadic Dye Garden and offered outdoor community activities at St. Saviours (London) in association with the Florence Trust (2020-21).

Artist website:  moderneccentrics.wordpress.com

Facebook: facebook.com/people/Ross-Belton

Instagram: @spottedhyenas

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