Ben had no prior quilting experience, but he did have a large stash of T-shirts representing his favourite heavy metal and punk bands. While they were a far cry from traditional calico cottons, he managed to piece them together. 

The results were sensational. His signature style was born, and he hasn’t looked back since.

Ben’s quilts and wearable art incorporate fabrics packed with memories, especially his commission work. Friends and strangers alike bring Ben their beloved vintage clothing, and he cuts, pieces and quilts fantastic designs bearing both beauty and personal stories.  

He says his work helps to bridge cultural fears between rock’s counterculture and more traditional society, and we wholeheartedly agree. In a world that is ever more divided, Ben creates an accessible way for anyone to step into his favourite music spaces.

We also appreciate Ben’s conscious pursuit of functional art, as the combination of form and function can challenge textile art’s place amid fine art settings. Just because Ben’s jackets can be worn or his quilts keep his family warm doesn’t mean they aren’t art. The impact of his jackets, totes and quilts when hung on gallery walls is proof positive.

You’re going to love this look into Ben’s edgy, colourful and rhythmic body of work. And his sense of humour? It’s the icing on the cake.

Heavy metal roots 

Ben Venom: My mom always hemmed my sister’s and my pants growing up. And my sister started making quilts around the same time I did in 2008.

My earliest memory of working with textiles was screen printing T-shirts of the bands I followed as a teenager. I grew up listening to a lot of punk rock and metal, and at the time, most of the bands were just starting out. With no record label, there wasn’t any merchandise to purchase. Everything was very DIY, so we printed shirts of our favourite bands.

From an early age, I wanted to do something art related. I was always drawing, painting, printmaking with paint and screen printing.

In 2008, I hit a point in my career where I had a bit of a crisis of conscience. I wanted to create something beyond just pretty pictures on the wall. I wanted art that could do a multitude of things.

When my good friend Kevin Earl Taylor invited me to participate in a group show he was curating at the Neurotitan Gallery in Berlin, I wanted to do something really big. So, I decided to make a quilt using all my heavy metal T-shirts – my work has been primarily textile-based since.

My artwork is heavily inspired by a Gee’s Bend quilt exhibition I saw at the De Young Museum in 2006. I was blown away by the attention to design, craft and handiwork the women from that very rural region in the American South infused into their quilts. 

They didn’t have a lot of materials at their disposal, so they used recycled denim jeans, blankets and other fabric scraps to construct some really amazing quilts. I liked the idea of upcycling and reusing. Nothing is thrown away.

Learning how to quilt

The first sewing machine I bought was a Brother XL-2610. I chose pink because it was the cheaper option, and then I covered it with stickers to make it look cooler!

I also bought a book called Quilting Basics 101 because I had no idea what I was doing. I made a lot of mistakes, and I asked a lot of questions from the employees at the fabric store. 

There are always different, better and quicker ways to do things, so that’s why I always ask questions.

Over time, I figured out which fabrics to use, which needles to buy, and more. I also learned to follow my dumb ideas! I never let anything hinder me from seeing my ideas through to the end. 

I’m still learning new tricks and techniques to this day. For example, I’ve become more obsessed over time with binding because I want my work to look professional and clean. 

For me, art is about research and continual learning. And mistakes are a large part of the process. I embrace them as part of the handmade nature of my work. 

‘I believe mistakes offer a visible direct link between the audience and the artist’s hand.’

Ben Venom, Quilt artist

Reducing fears

Using repurposed materials, I contrast the often menacing and aggressive counterculture components of gangs, punk/metal music and the occult with the comforts of domesticity. 

‘This collision of traditional quilting techniques with elements tied to the fringes of society re-envisions the materials’ stories through a softer lens.’

Ben Venom, Quilt artist

By presenting these unconventional ideas and themes in a form that is soft, light and tactile, my work can appeal to a wider audience. My art’s textile aspect isn’t heavy, loud or dangerous, which can foster an interest among people not typically familiar or comfortable with the ideas I present. 

Functional art

My passion is creating art that is both pleasing to the eye and fully functional. Textiles allow me to do that. 

I’m interested in sustainability to re-use and rework materials that still have value. I’ve become increasingly aware of the large waste within the clothing industry. As a family, we attempt to have a lower carbon footprint by walking, biking or taking public transportation when possible. This mentality directly affects my art making practice.

Clothing has a history. Maybe you had a pair of pants you wore during a pivotal point in your life. They’re now threadbare, but you don’t want to throw them away. Give them to me, and I’ll cut them up and give them a second life as art with function. 

‘By stitching together donated band shirts, jeans, jackets and leather into a unified piece, my quilts display a multitude of personal histories.’

Ben Venom, Quilt artist

Each person’s unexplained stains, tears or rips are displayed to visitors who often see themselves woven into that larger history. A collection of memories, dreams and past experiences are showcased in the form of a functional piece of art. 

Creative process

Everything I do begins with some amount of research into a particular topic of interest. I use my sketchbook to come up with a general idea using notes and quick drawings. 

I choose materials that will add to the overall design. Just like a puzzle, every little piece has a certain place that fits into the larger image.

Next, I import my sketch into Photoshop or Procreate to refine the design and scale it to the final size. 

Lastly, I print the design onto copy paper to make cutting templates. And then I cut the fabric pieces and sew them all together. Most of my work is appliquéd onto the top layer and then quilted with my sewing machine.

All my artwork is created in the back room of our apartment. It’s not a very big space, but it offers a flexible work schedule since I can just walk down the hallway to be in the studio.

For larger pieces, I move our kitchen table and work on the floor to piece fabrics together. Working from home allows all the comforts of home, but it can be challenging when the family is there. 

Punching the fabric

I use a Juki-HZL 600 Exceed for all my textile-based work. It’s my most important tool. It’s the second Juki I’ve owned, as I blew the motor on the first one. It does a straight and satin stitch, and it’s not very loud, so it doesn’t disturb the neighbours. 

I fold or roll fabrics in a specific way to fit through the sewing machine’s nine-inch throat. Sometimes I am literally punching the fabric through the opening!

All of my garments are backed with a stabiliser to strengthen the fabric, as well as to prevent bunching or fraying. I also try to use thicker reclaimed fabrics like denim or Carhartt workwear fabric. 

Much of my fabric is donated, but I also shop at local thrift stores, eBay or Goodwill to fill in the gaps. They’re all excellent sources for interesting reclaimed fabrics.

Collaborative designs

I started making custom clothing because I wanted to expand beyond quilts and learn more about how clothes are constructed. I also enjoy seeing people wearing my artwork in public. It’s free advertising, too!

I’ve made custom jackets for friends and others, as well as people I don’t know who have come across my artwork and want a custom piece. 

The design process is a constant back and forth, and there is typically a conversation about measurements, as well as fabric and design options. Sometimes I have free rein and other times the client has a general idea of what they want made.

I usually provide the client with at least three different sketches. Once a design is chosen, I refine the approved version and get the client’s confirmation. Then I cut the fabric and start sewing. 

I collaborate with Tul Jutargate in Los Angeles, USA to have the jackets constructed with collars, buttons and lining. He also adds a chain stitched label on the inside. 

Full Metal Jacket was commissioned by Brann Dailor, the drummer for the band Mastodon. It contains many of his old T-shirts along with all the special stains. The title is taken from the Stanley Kubrick film, as the materials all reference heavy metal music. The jacket is made from a letterman jacket pattern in collaboration with Tul Jutargate. 

War Pig was commissioned by a local floral designer Tyson Lee. I designed it with his input and used his vintage Carhartt jackets. Tom of Finland fabric was used as the quilt’s foundation. Tyson was particularly interested in incorporating his zodiac calendar animal (pig), eight flowers and chains

Thrasher love

My THRASHER quilt is currently my favourite. I grew up skateboarding and listening to punk rock/heavy metal music in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, USA. THRASHER Magazine was a window into everything cool for me and my friends.

We also constantly watched skateboard videos on my videocassette recorder in slow motion to learn each new trick. 

The quilt was commissioned by Tony Vitello, the owner of THRASHER Magazine. It honours the influence skateboarding has had on me from then to now. My daughter has recently expressed interest in learning to skate, so the ride continues. 

It’s made from THRASHER T-shirts, and a Carhartt vest is used on the backside to honour skateboarder and THRASHER editor Jake Phelps. 

It features a Lacoste collaboration shirt by Alan Gonzalez and blue Vans fabric designed by Rachael ‘Steak’ Finley Wright (@instasteak) from one of professional skateboarder Lizzie Armanto’s uniforms, like the one she wore at the Tokyo Olympics.  

Trendy tote bags

My tote bags originally came about in response to San Francisco’s 2007 ban on plastic bags at grocery stores. I initially made a few tote bags for my wife to take to the grocery store, and it took off from there. 

The bag’s small size and ability to be customised with different design elements has kept me interested. I’ve started to add zippers and more pockets. Each bag is a one-of-a-kind design.

Craft Resurgence

I find the contemporary craft world very exciting right now. It’s inspiring to see so many artists focusing on the handmade and pushing the boundaries of traditional processes and techniques. I see my practice as part of that wave as I attempt to challenge the established imagery and style of quilting. 

I believe craft will become a respite from our technology driven society. While some aspects of our lives will be increasingly automated and devoid of human interaction, craft will continue to show an individual’s hand within a work. This handmade concept is very important to my practice.

‘Imperfections are an integral part of each piece. And every mistake and error an artist makes is ultimately what makes us who we are.’

Ben Venom, Quilt artist

“You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.”

When Pamela Campagna creates textile art, her approach is to be open and intuitive; this allows the exciting – and even miraculous – possibility of new and unpredicted outcomes. It’s a place where accidents are positively welcomed.

Pamela’s irrepressible drive comes from her passion to gain an understanding of our presence here in the world. She calls upon her own personal experiences: constantly researching materials, techniques and forms that marry her thoughts and emotions into artworks.

Her starting material is often a long length of thread – a simple starting point leading to ethereal artwork that’s both complex and minimalist at the same time.

Pamela’s fascination with time, light, magnetism and space inspire her to explore other materials such as nails, magnets, rust and wood as a way to portray these qualities.

Pamela is a natural nomad who, after 20 years of travelling, is now based back in her home town of Bari in southern Italy. She’s been a graphic designer, an entrepreneur and now has her own atelier – a lovingly created hub where she shares her art and talent with the community.

She’s a dreamer who dreams big – and, for Pamela, this appears a very happy place to be.

Pamela Campagna: I guess I’ve always had a passion for exploring and experimenting. I was born in Bari in 1977 and ever since I can remember I’ve felt the need to travel. When I grew up I went travelling for about 20 years until I became pregnant in 2019 and felt the need to have a stable base. So I’m back in Bari now … but that hasn’t stopped me from dreaming. 

After re-settling here I decided to realise one of those dreams – to open an atelier to the public, a place that is both a working space and an art gallery. I wanted it to have a big window onto the street so that I could welcome people in to see how my art is made, to talk about the process and to learn.

I’ve not only achieved this dream, but it’s also slowly becoming a vibrant place for meetings and workshops for all kinds of arts. I find this exchange both inspiring and enriching.

I’m perhaps best known for adapting existing techniques into something all my own, particularly when working with threads, nails, magnets, rust and wood. The result is a reflection of my nomadic attitude, a wonderful mix of both graphics and crafts, with a focus on exploring our present and our presence.

Since 2011, the core of my artistic research has been experimenting with weaving techniques and image design. I mix graphics and crafts, always looking for new artistic ways that can help us to interpret and understand our presence.

“Through my constant research into different materials, techniques and forms, I aim to make the invisible become visible.”

Pamela Campagna, Thread artist

I create artworks that interact with time, light, magnetism and the environment, to change their appearance and significance, and reveal themselves in unpredicted and surprising ways.

Art to decode life

My work can never be separate from my life. Art is my instrument for decoding my life – my present and my presence seen in a multitude of ways. My art can’t be encapsulated into any one approach or style, and that’s why there are so many heterogeneous expressions in my works.

I imagine my map of inspirations and influences as a vascular system with the blood flowing all in the same direction, even if coming from smaller vessels. I don’t consider any one thing more relevant than others.

“Every step I’ve ever taken and everything I’ve ever seen is influencing me.”

When my mother got sick and sadly died, I needed to understand what had really occurred. It was such an enormous loss, so I used my artworks to explore this sense of emptiness. And when I developed my business MINI Art For Kids, I transformed my experience as a mother into a line of tactile artworks for children.

Lately, I’ve needed to explore new techniques – some quite distinct from fibre art – and I’ve achieved this by organising workshops in my studio, which has had the added bonus of enriching my daily life with ‘real’ relationships.

“For me, art is a way of approaching life, fulfilling my imagination and creating worlds.”

Pamela Campagna, Thread artist

Starting out with textiles

When I originally started working with textiles, my aim was to build complex shapes with just a single thread, using weaving techniques to connect both physically and metaphorically. 

As a graphic designer, I’d been working with visual metaphors, expressing concepts through the use of decontextualisation of specific materials and gestures. There was a time when I wanted to deal with the idea of family, particularly working with a specific image of my mother’s family… It all started from that.

I’ve been prompted in my work by qualities I saw in the amazing trousseaus my parents had from their mothers. They were so carefully embroidered over many hours and communicated such a deep sense of grace, purity and faith. 

Another aspect of my approach probably comes from the chemistry experiments we did in the science laboratory at school. I developed a deep curiosity and fascination for the triggering of cause and effect processes.

All of the ‘design’ aspect of my art is around creating something that has a free outcome, in the sense that the final appearance is subjected to many external factors including the viewer’s own point of view. One example of this is in my White Noise series.

Becoming an artist

Initially, I studied economics, while simultaneously developing my interest in art. That included going to shows, drawing, transforming, attempting, researching and trying to match the two interests together. 

After my graduation in 2001, I took an internship in New York working for Franklin Furnace Archive. I then went to Florence to study a Masters in Management of Cultural Heritage and worked for Cittadellarte Fondazione Pistoletto in Biella in their economic office.

It was the beginning of a step into the art world while still trying to use my studies. But I was still always designing, painting and experimenting. 

I founded an artistic collective in Milan, called HEADS, making live paintings mixed with video art, makeup and music. When I met Tomi (tOmi) Scheiderbauer and CALC  (casqueiro atlantico laboratorio cultural: a group of artists, a cultural association and design company), I started working with them as a graphic designer with a little involvement in art and architecture.

After seven years, the artistic part began to take over. At the moment those two worlds are inseparable, and they totally influence one another.

Motherhood & art

Being a mother of a young child, a wife and an artist at the same time is not an easy thing, especially in Italy where there’s not a real system to support artists or autonomous working mothers.

So in the first three years of my son’s life I mostly concentrated on him. I didn’t have time for exploring and experimenting. Nevertheless, that period was beautiful and truly magical.

Through those years of observing my son, I dreamed up and developed a wonderful project: a playful brand called MINI Art For Kids, the main product being a line of tactile artworks made from laser cutting and layering superposed, colourful felt.

It came from a positive intuition and was a great success. It was really satisfying to be contacted by people from all over the world wanting to buy from the different lines I’d created.

But at a certain point, I missed the language and mystery of art being a part of my daily routine, and I realised I didn’t want to be just an entrepreneur. So I went back to my art and experiments, my son grew up a bit and I organised my day in a different way so that I could again pick up the ‘threads’ of the experimentations I’d left behind.

Sparks that become art

Mostly my art comes from the urgency of seeing something new, something that’s previously been missing from my outlook, absent from my emotional landscape. Sometimes I have a clear message to communicate, sometimes it’s a suggestion – an emotion that can’t be defined. Depending on that, I decide the subject, the technique and materials, and then I go deep into creation.

I always start from a sketchbook. I need to write down just a few lines and a few words to figure out the metaphor I’m looking for or the intention. Based on that I decide the technique I will use. There’s often a narrative that I’ve decided, but nothing is too defined. I always leave it open for accidents.

Depending on the technique I’m going to use, I have a specific way in which to draw the artwork. For every technique, I have a method of bringing a project forth.

Then I begin to work with my iPad and stylus. Since I often work with superposition or layering of images, it’s useful to make samples to get an approximate idea of the outcome. But, of course, nothing is totally defined.

“I like to think of my process as a ritual in preparation for the miracle to come.

This ‘open’ part of the creative process is exactly the reason that pushes me to begin.”

Pamela Campagna, Thread artist

I believe that there’s never one point of view, and no one point of view can last forever. I aim to create something that can change with us, and generate doubts and new thoughts or keys to understanding our present.

“My art has to be seen from different perspectives – it helps to blink the eyes or squint.

I ask for some effort from the viewer, because nothing in my work is overtly obvious.”

Pamela Campagna, Thread artist

Optimum fibre

I have a wonderful technical sponsor, Cucirini Tre Stelle, based in Milan. They provide me with many different kinds of high quality fibres in infinite colours and shades.

This is absolutely great because it pushes me to explore how every fibre can influence every work, depending on the thickness and luminosity.

For many years, I’ve been developing embroidery, weaving, tufting and bobbin lace techniques based on using ikat fabric, a material woven using dyed yarns to create patterned fabric. But often I disaggregate and minimise this concept to produce something which is both from the past and the future at the same time.

For example, in the BIG KNOTTHING series and the MIRAGE series I’ve worked in the warp and weft separately, leaving space between every line to give the image a rarefied appearance, close to the feeling of a distant memory.

In the MACROembroidery series I’ve brutalised the fine gesture of embroidery, fixing a continuous bundle of wires, made of five or six different threads, with a staple gun.

Be true & flexible

If I had to offer advice to anyone, I’d say be honest. Don’t copy, but transform and be respectful of the ideas of other artists. 

Find your real tool of expression and go deep into it, but at the same time don’t be its hostage – and change direction if you feel like it. Remember that art is a profession and a way of living and relating with your surroundings.

The biggest challenge for me is staying authentic to myself and feeling deeply what I’m saying with the piece I’m creating.

Authenticity is really difficult when it comes to commissioned works, which for years were a part of my practice. That’s why I’ve now greatly reduced the time I spend on those.

It’s difficult being a fibre artist right now, working with ‘real’ material, which requires lengthy consideration prior to doing the work, many hours in its creation, and then once it’s online it is eaten up by the web very fast.

We’re bombarded every day with images (real or AI-generated) that influence the sense of our work. Generated images can look like super elaborate crafted artworks, not actually existing in reality, and would require an enormous amount of energy to be realised in textiles.

“My greatest challenge is to keep the flame of my passion for art alive. As a woman in the cave fighting the beasts, I use that fire to keep safe and secure from the soul thieves.”

After having concentrated on local dynamics, private commissions, workshops and my project for kids, I feel that now is the right time to put together a show and an itinerary project abroad. I’m imagining, also, a more dimensional and collaborative approach. That’s my desire … but let’s see what life brings to me.

While free motion embroidery has been her trademark, Leisa has also mastered an abundance of skills – from weaving to painting and casting, as well as basketry, crochet, sewing, draping, silkscreen printing, 3D printing and laser engraving. Any of these might play a part in her intriguing artworks.

Leisa’s deep-rooted sense of social justice often leads her to create works that portray her thoughts and feelings about topical issues. Her own life journey – which has seen her battle illness and deafness – has coloured her approach to her art.

Displaying a distinct strength of will and determination, Leisa has overcome adversity. She’s notched up awards, exhibitions, commissions and a book series, and travelled the world while running businesses, studying, teaching and bringing up two daughters.

With a half century of artistry under her belt, and refusing to allow health issues or the passing of time to stand in her way, Leisa is now embracing 3D printing and even uses AI to generate ideas. This is one mighty textile artist who never gives up.

So many possibilities

Leisa Rich: I’m an experimental artist who transforms common and alternative materials in unique ways. I utilise fibre techniques that include free motion stitching, as well as modern technology such as 3D printing and laser engraving. My art works and pseudo-utopian, hyper-real environments suspend reality and sometimes invite interaction.

“I have a very vivid imagination of a quite utopian nature.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

In my imagination, there’s a spectacular world, similar to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Little Shop of Horrors, or to the places conceived by Dr Seuss where there are wonderful things to touch and experience (but the people coexist happily!).

At first, it was merely a fascination with materials and process that led to my interest in pursuing a career in fibre arts.

However, as I continued in this art discipline into my twenties and beyond, concept became increasingly important – domesticity, women’s and children’s issues, forming personal identity, making tactile human connections, provoking viewer interaction, pulling viewers in for a closer look – these began informing my practice and have continued today as I make connections between my personal and global life and my art.

I’m also quite inquisitive: I love learning, exploring new directions, pushing the limits of materials, techniques and concepts. Fibre art is perfect for that.

Although every visual art form has possibilities inherent to it, in genre, artistic influence, material choices and more, I really believe that textile art has a distinctive advantage over other art media due to its variety – painting and printing on textiles, sculptural forms in felt, mixed media constructions, digital images on fabric, jacquard weaving, drawing via machine or hand embroidery and more – the list is endless.

Shaped by ups & downs

I was probably subconsciously drawn to fibres as a very young child. Tactile things have always comforted me. I spent years in hospital due to my deafness. My mother would bring Barbie clothes she’d made for me, and I would finger paint in silence in the art room. 

Although I do now have hearing in one ear, I prefer to work without auditory distractions. One illness led me to a weaving class when I was 15. Three days in, I knew I had found the direction of my career and the passion of my creative life. 

My experiences guided me. I had huge medical challenges, parents who never understood me, growing up in Canada in a natural environment surrounded by farms, living on a lake, with the ever-changing, sometimes harsh and sometimes stunning beautiful seasons inherent to living in the north. Summer camp, a very artistic and talented sister and brother-in-law, teachers who eschewed and ridiculed me, important people who shunned me, and blue collar people who embraced me – these are the things that have moulded me in many ways.

“Dyeing and weaving paved the way for learning, growth and experimentation in fibres and mixed media.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

The cathartic ritual of weaving, the earthy ritual of communing with nature in the early 70s, while gathering plants for yarn dyeing, the meditative process of dyeing and the interesting sculptural elements from assorted organic materials all influenced my learning.

Moths & hippy artworks

My very first artistic influences were my sister and her husband. My sister was a talented artist with an MFA from Michigan State University. She later went on to graduate from MIT in architecture and is now an architect in Seattle. My ex-brother-in-law, a painting professor at Michigan State University for 27 years, painted professionally until his death in his 80s. Their house was an artistic springboard for me. The ethnic food parties they threw, attended by the art professors and deans of MSU, exposed me to wild points of view, exciting perspectives, creative ideas and the open-minded art world that abounded in the 60s and 70s.

I was also greatly influenced when, in 1976, I met and spoke with the Polish artist Magdalena Abakanowicz, a pioneer of fibre-based sculpture and installation, whose art practice I admire to this day. I made the work Venus’s Hair shortly after meeting Magdalena. This piece met its untimely death in the mid 1990s after becoming infested with moths and larvae. It was a demise common to thick, hairy, hippy artworks hung on a wall for long periods of time.

Overcoming obstacles

There are positives and negatives about who we are as people and as artists. All of it is fodder for ideas and direction. I’ve worked hard to turn these negatives into positives, and I still struggle to do so. Negative experiences in some people raise their hackles enough so that they rise above in spite, and thus it is in my case. When I was dealt deafness and numerous other physical challenges, I refused to let them get me down and I strove to overcome them.

“When my father said: ‘Why can’t you paint pretty pictures and make money, or get a real job?’, I ignored him and worked harder to be a better artist.

I drew on my love of nature and used it in my art.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

When I hung out with the university art professors at my sister and brother-in-law’s parties, I listened and learned from their artistic conversations and debates. When my famous fibre arts professor ignored me and focused instead on her talented, pet graduate students, I took university classes in other art school disciplines and learned invaluable skills.

I talked my way into a job as a knit, leather and fur designer in the mid 1980s for an international company and when the other designers refused to speak to me, the production staff taught me everything I needed to know, on their own time.

These are the influences I carry with me to this day. I’m not impressed with someone who is superficial or pretentious. Rather, I am impressed with their integrity, honesty, kindness and true interest in a fellow artist.

Globetrotting & growth

Although I spent my early childhood in the company of many professional artists who were connected to my sister and brother-in-law, it wasn’t until 1975 when I went to Interlochen Arts Academy in Michigan, that I took art seriously.

There, I specialised in fibres for 10th grade. I still have a little slip of paper from my public high school 9th grade art class that says: ‘Leisa has an affinity for art’. That teacher must have seen something in me that I didn’t really discover until the following year.

I returned to Canada, my country of birth, to attend the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design in the fall of 1978. Unhappy with its programme, I took a semester off, then attended the University of Michigan, studying for a BFA in Fibres.

I ended up using my art degree to do fashion design for a number of years, first with Norma, an international fashion design company based in Toronto. While at Norma’s, I got married and had my first daughter. I then started a business on my own, creating wearable works including sweaters, hats and jewellery that were worn on prominent television shows and featured in magazines.

I have always taught, so I decided to return to school for a teaching degree in art, while running a full-time business and raising my daughter, which I completed at the University of Western Ontario Althouse College of Education.

I had several moves from Toronto, Ontario and Vancouver, British Columbia to Kauai, Hawaii to Dallas, and from Texas to Atlanta, Georgia. We decided to sell off everything we owned to travel around the world.

We covered England, Malaysia, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand and Tahiti. All of this travelling, with my husband and six-year old daughter thrown in, means I’ve had many diverse experiences and influences studying the art of many cultures.

We later had another baby, and while teaching part time, I returned for my Master of Fine Arts in Fibres at the University of North Texas, graduating in 2007.

“I have always had my cake and eaten it – what you can conceive of can become reality if you put your mind to it.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

I want to encourage those who hesitate about going back to art school to go for it, if that’s what will nurture and further your creative experience. During all of this moving and travel I always worked part or full-time and raised two daughters. I love going to school and learning.

If I could, I would continue my education in various programmes, as the professors and fellow students encountered in an institution of learning always inspire me and help me creatively grow.

From Facebook to fabric stores

My work has got better both technically and conceptually as I’ve worked, researched and practised.

I’ve found Facebook – yes, Facebook – to be a huge inspiration for ideas and research. Things posted there led me to do research in areas I might never have been exposed to, such as new literature that’s just come out.

This includes art books, research papers on art, technological advancements, TED Talks on a variety of subjects, art, artists, exhibitions, art-related ideas, information about environmental issues that are important to me as a vegan, individual discussions about politics, and food.

These have led me down wonderful, and sometimes frustratingly difficult-to-navigate bunny holes. I’m a very sensitive person and my heart is poured into my work.

When it comes to developing my ideas, I’ll sketch if I need to, but I’m really a 3D person and don’t enjoy paper and drawing implements. My sketches are the million ideas fully formed in my head, so many that if I lived a thousand years I wouldn’t be able to create them all.

I have a great stash of materials of all kinds in my studio. What I use really depends on what I come across. For instance, I recently noticed a really crazy, distressed fabric at Fabricland, near my home. No one was buying it, so it was discounted to $6 a metre!

I bought four metres of the off white and brought it to my studio. By the next day I was back at that same store. I bought everything they had in the off white, as well as a minty green, a flesh pink, and a blue-black. What am I going to do with 40 metres of fabric?

That’s often how it works… I will see something, buy it and, for sure, maybe an hour later, or three months later, or even 15 years later, a fully formed idea will pop into my head for it, and the process of realising it begins!

“Since I’m so experimental, everything is always changing. I’m always pushing materials, explorations and learning new techniques.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

I struggle sometimes with my need for experimenting, in an art world that keeps telling me to stick with one thing and only one thing! However, when I try to be anything but what I am, I’m desperately unhappy.

Harnessing artificial intelligence

I’ve always incorporated multiple methods and materials in experimental ways in addition to free motion embroidery. But as I’ve got older, I’ve experienced carpal tunnel syndrome and arthritis, which has meant I can do less handiwork.

So I purchased a 3D printer some years ago. It means I’ve been able to combine fibrous materials and processes, along with plant-based biodegradable plastics to form new art pieces. 

I’ve also added AI (artificial intelligence) and laser cutting on a Glowforge machine to the techniques I use in my work.

I’m approaching the utilisation of AI in a much different way than the methods used by many 2D artists though; I provide my name as a prompt (it’s been trained on my data – that was really weird to find out!), as well as suggested textures, and the AI gives me plenty of visuals I can choose from and work with.

I use the chosen image to create pieces that go through my laser cutter, which works with a variety of materials such as wood, reflective or shiny plastics, even fabrics. I’m just at the beginning of this type of exploration, but the AI images generated from this so far have been super exciting! 

The first thing I fully used it on is an elaborate neck piece for my WOW (World of Wearable Art) 2024 entry. I’m going to be focusing soon on pushing the envelope with textiles in the laser cutter.

My husband is my techie god, and we are both making sure we know how to use the cutter at its optimum before committing to fabric – with textiles if you put the wrong one in you have yourself a fire!

My home is an ever-changing showcase for my work. I know when something is a favourite when I realise I don’t want to sell that piece, like my monumental work, Father, Son and Holy Ghost (2021).

It’s taken up permanent residence in our master bathroom, and we chose the dramatic wallpaper to set it off. This work is from the body of work I’ve been making since my move back to my home country, Canada, in 2020.

A rewilded life

Now that I am in my mid 60s, first and foremost I must make my health a major priority. While my ideas and creative passion are still young, physical challenges that come with being an ageing artist have reared their ugly head and it can be scary. 

I’m still searching for the holy grail: the dollars, backing, assistants and opportunities to realise very large-scale installations. And I want the plethora of ideas I have, and my prolific production of works, to be put to good use in amazing spaces, as well as selling my smaller works. I still want to travel more and to become a more knowledgeable vegetable gardener.

When we moved back to Canada we bought a 100-year-old farmhouse with over three acres of land on Howe Island, overlooking the beautiful St Lawrence River near Lake Ontario. It’s very quiet and only accessible by ferry.

We’ve been rewilding it, which included returning most of the mown property to wildflowers and trees, removing all fossil fuels, installing geothermal and solar energy supplies, and adding structures that use the green building concepts from the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) certified architecture system.

It’s a haven for white-tailed deer, coyote, fox, mink, birds, bugs and many more creatures. We labelled our property ‘Safe Zone’ as we also don’t consume animals or animal products.

“This move to a wild place, with no doctors, no retail, no street lights even, has meant I’m very attuned to nature’s rhythms.

My recent works have reflected that.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

Supporting role

I’m excited to tell you I have a gorgeous dream studio – finally! When we extended our house, a studio was included in the plans. It’s 1000 sq.ft, with 16ft (5m) high ceilings and pro-track lighting, and can be configured as a gallery, workshop or event space. 

In summer 2023, we established a foundation for fibre artists and welcomed our first resident artist from the Textile Museum of Canada. Artists live and work on our property, and have access to an outdoor studio, as well as working with me in the indoor studio.

Future summers will see more sponsorships, scholarships, and residencies supported by me and my husband, in association with Craft Ontario, The Textile Museum of Canada, and Contemporary Textile Studio Co-op, based in Toronto. All the details are available on their websites.

The co-operative is a four-month programme so either for people who live in Toronto or those who can stay there for four months.

Educate for the future

This is a really weird time to be an artist, with AI radically changing the way art is produced. I fear for 2D artists, who are already facing a time when the validity of their original art will be questioned.

Perhaps their work will no longer be sought after, since others will be able to make their own ‘great art’ right from their computer and phone. This is a very volatile scenario… we’ll have to see what happens.

“Textile artists have a brief respite from that right now, since our work is tactile and dimensional and presently impossible for AI to do… but that time will come.”

In the future, robots will receive prompts from the AI and dye some yarns or weave some cloth, print fabric, or build sculpture. I would suggest that aspiring textile artists become aware of technological changes coming down the pipeline and figure out in advance how they can adjust what they do in order to deal with that.

And – the advice I give everyone – gauge your impact on the environment. If you’re doing plant dyeing but eating animals, your contribution to negative climate change is larger than your positive impact is from choosing organic working materials.

“Awareness and educating oneself will be the most important skill in this new vista.”

Leisa Rich, Textile artist

When Elisabeth Rutt goes outdoors, she looks up, around and down, finding all the texture, colour and form she needs to create a unique piece of art. Influenced by the landscape, the ever changing skies and weather, Elisabeth selects from her favourite textile techniques to interpret the shapes and linear patterns she sees.

She applies her individual stamp by developing her own fabrics – especially by dry felting with an embellisher – or by changing fabrics she already has. Elisabeth further manipulates her materials using weaving, melting, shaping, dyeing, printing and painting, before finishing with simple hand stitching, darning and beading. But her skill lies in her command of her materials – and it’s gratifying to see just how well they obey.

Fine art perspective

Elisabeth Rutt: I am an artist working with textiles, and my work comes from somewhere between my art school training and my lifelong love of textiles and stitch. I approach my work from a fine art perspective rather than being led by a technique.

As long as I can remember the ‘feel’ of cloth has always been important to me. I’ve never stopped loving that sensation and using it for my creative purposes.

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist

The driving forces in my work are form, colour and excellence of design, what I can make them do, and what they will do for me in return. I’ve attended many courses over the years to gather a repertoire of textile techniques, but have come to rest on hand stitching. I like to keep it simple, not doing anything too technically difficult or overtly impressive. I want the work and what I want it to say – not the technique – to be predominant. My stitches are drawn marks that record what I’ve observed or am thinking about, and work is usually, but not always, abstract. 

I move between design work and stitching throughout the development of a project, rather than finishing design work and moving on to fabric and thread. This helps me to keep a project alive and I can stay open to new ideas for as long as I want to keep the topic active.

Lifelong love of art

When I was asked as a child ‘What do you want to do when you grow up?’, my response was always ‘I am going to be an artist’, which was usually shrugged off as childish fantasy.

My father was a professional artist and illustrator, so I was fortunate to see what this meant as a way of life and I had few illusions. The elderly lady who lived next door taught me to sew from a very early age and I grew up drawing, painting and sewing every minute I could, doing each with equal importance and obsession.

After school, and taking as many art and textile related exams the curriculum would allow, I went on to complete a Bachelor of Humanities honours degree in Art and Dance at Goldsmiths College, University of London. During this study, I continued stitching for relaxation and I also sneaked stitch into my fine art course work as often as I could.

While my two sons were young, I studied for a City and Guilds Embroidery parts 1 and 2. The old syllabus had proper exams in technique, history and a three hour timed design paper… good times! I achieved distinction and highly commended in the medal of excellence scheme. 

I was also a member of the Embroiderers’ Guild and was able to do every workshop they held on Saturdays while my husband babysat. The Guild gave me the opportunity to learn from some of the most renowned textile artists and tutors at the time, for which I’ll always be grateful.

Since then I’ve worked as an interior designer, as a mentor for a textiles masterclass in Hitchin, Hertfordshire, and as a manager for Smiths Row art gallery in Bury St Edmunds.

My sons are now grown men and I work freelance from my studio at home. I make work for exhibitions, commissions and I run a tutor textile and design workshop at West Suffolk College, Bury St Edmunds, and others by invitation.

Inspiration all around

For the last few years I’ve worked with landscape, skies, patterns and the weather. They are all around me and I can’t escape them!

I’ve been focusing particularly on the patterns of our British landscape, including those of the underlying chalk and how it’s influenced the landscapes that I’ve lived in all my life. The white eroded patterns and lines of pathways, the tractor tracks, ancient buildings and earthworks, and the meanderings of chalk streams across the land has led me to make work about geology, landforms, and the many layers of underlying patterns in the land. I’ve used hand stitch and surface darning on my own dry felted fabrics, with screen printing and a small number of old paper maps to create my own ‘mind’s eye’ textile landscapes.

I’ve moved my work on by looking up at the broad East Anglian skies, making work about the sky, our weather and the colour palettes I see in different weather phenomena. I have called this body of work the Weather series. Constructed ground fabrics and hand darning still feature, but my design emphasis has developed. In this work I’ve been interested in observing, and recording in darned swatches, the colour schemes of different weather phenomena.

Continuing my interest in the weather I’ve also been working intermittently with snow as a starting point for new work. I’ve used beading, with my usual hand stitching, felting, and darning, in this continuing project.

I work within a body of work for a long time and am very concerned about making work in series. I consciously try to take an element from one series of work into the next. This gives me continuity whilst progressing and developing myself, my skills and my work.

Sketching preparation

The ideas and inspirations that inform my work are very varied. Once I have an idea, I research my subject thoroughly by reading, observing, making visits and using sketchbooks. I may work from detailed drawings and research, or use a piece of particular fabric or thread as an initial starting point. 

I try to draw in ways that will easily move into fabric and thread, often stitching directly into the paper pages alongside other media. Sometimes I stitch into a drawing or sketch, but I also stitch into blank sketchbook pages. When I stitch in this way, I have the same thought process as when I draw with pencil or pens.

Having sampled with drawing media and threads in a sketchbook I move to my fabric, which I’ve usually ‘made’ or changed in some way to make it truly my own before adding stitches.

Manipulating materials

I use very ordinary materials, always feeling a bit sceptical about the latest and newest big thing. I use a variety of fabrics, usually in small pieces that I combine to make a larger piece of cloth to work on.

I’m led by what I see, and I allow the work to grow and gain the right visual vocabulary.

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist

I work with materials that I’ve woven, melted, shaped, dyed, printed or painted. I rarely use commercial fabrics and am increasingly using my embellisher to make my own original dry felt, to use as my ground fabric for hand stitching; it’s rare that I use my sewing machine for embroidery. I enjoy chance and asymmetry, with a nod to geometry. The more I sew the more I want to simplify the construction of the stitches I use, although areas are often densely stitched.

My favourite thread is cotton perlé, numbers 8 and 12, but I do use other similar threads from my long years of collecting materials. Most have long lost their labels and so I’m no longer sure what they are. Some fabrics and threads are ones I’ve previously dyed myself.

I’ve tried very hard, over the last 10 years or so, to not buy anything new. Like most people who sew, I have an enormous stash of fabrics, threads, beads and haberdashery. I like to use second-hand garment fabrics whenever I can.

Meeting time challenges

My biggest challenge has been finding the time to make work. Anyone who hand stitches knows the enormous amount of time it takes. When my sons were a bit older and at school, however little time I could find to stitch, I always called it ‘mummy’s work’ and never approached what I was doing as a hobby. I think this helped them and me to take what I was doing seriously, and they were always respectful of the time I needed to work and of the artworks I made.

Magnum opus

The piece I would consider my magnum opus to date is Land Cloth from my Landmarks series. Before I began making, I decided that this piece would be designed to lie horizontally, just as a cloth would lie on a table, but raised a little higher so that it doesn’t look like a piece of domestic linen. I wanted it to be viewed as landscape features lie over the earth’s surface rather than hung on a wall in a vertical plane.

I became completely immersed in it, as it took about a year to complete. It’s not quite the biggest thing I’ve ever worked on, but there was certainly the most ‘making’ involved. I made the fabric first with dry felting techniques before I stitched anything, and then felted back into it in a limited way as I stitched.

It felt like a trip through the landscape – through my ‘journey’ making felted cloth I created the different colours and land features I wanted to represent.

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist

It was exhibited at the Knitting and Stitching Show but, due to its size and being made to be seen horizontally as the land lies, it proved tricky to exhibit elsewhere. It remains with me safely rolled up, but I do share it occasionally if I’m teaching or talking to students on a relevant topic.

A topical diversion

I have a second favourite piece – ‘significant to me’ would be a better way to think of it.

In 2020 I made a piece of work about the impact of coronavirus that was exhibited in the Chaiya Art Awards online exhibition Impact. I called this piece inhale/exhale. It was a one-off piece, a disruption to my then-current body of work. In a small way it was similar to the interruption and pausing of the world brought about by the pandemic. This piece completely absorbed me for a few weeks. It felt appropriate to spend time doing something different before returning to my current work.

I had pangs of guilt in creating this piece, making something to be aesthetically pleasing out of such a terrible world event seemed wrong in some ways, but as I stitched it helped me think through the issues we all had to confront.

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist

The artwork focuses on the breath of individuals and the world at that time, about the microscopic virus and the enormous effect it had on the planet. I darned motifs of the virus onto a piece of felt fabric I’d made but not used while I was suffering from whooping cough a few years earlier. It seemed somewhat ironic that it was made while I was struggling with my lungs and breath. I always knew it would come in useful for a piece of work at some time.

I used a circular format for inhale/exhale, which was a new approach for me. Stylised lungs appear within the blue circle, just as continents are seen on a satellite image of the earth. The bronchioles are reminiscent of roots, rivers, roads and communication networks, with the stitched pale patterns in the lungs indicating the presence of Covid-19. I wanted to include some of the new vocabulary that we all became familiar with. The words have a deliberate light touch, giving a corona of colour with a nod to the appearance of infographics in the data we were being presented with. 

The work was exhibited and sold during The Broderers’ Exhibition at Bankside Gallery, London in 2022.

Books to inspire

For inspiration, I think any textile artist would benefit by reading anything by Constance Howard or Kathleen Whyte, also Machine Stitch and Hand Stitch, both by Alice Kettle and Jane McKeating.

It’s also worth looking at Uppercase magazine, an independently published Canadian magazine about all things design, colour, and illustration. It’s a joy to read and look at, and, miraculously, is the work of Janine Vangool alone, who is the owner, editor, designer and publisher. It’s published every three months and although not a dedicated textile magazine, I would thoroughly recommend it to anyone interested in any area of the arts and crafts – it’s a visual feast.

A recognisable style

I’d advise any aspiring textile artist to focus on developing work that will set you apart and give you a recognisable style. Instead of asking ‘How have they done that?’, ask ‘Why and what have they done in that piece of work?’. I would advise looking at and soaking up design in many other disciplines. Good design is the core of successful work, whether it is furniture, architecture or jewellery. 

I would also recommend finding a group of peer artists to bounce ideas off of and critique each other’s work. Such a group gives great support and you will learn much from each other.

Plus, go to as many exhibitions as you can get to… (sadly I don’t get to enough!).

Now she can’t imagine doing anything else and has a lifetime of ideas waiting in the wings to express through stitch. She is passionate about exploring the potential of thread – experimenting with direction to manipulate light and colour, and create texture.

Heehwa has embraced her country’s rich tradition of embroidery and made a point of studying it in detail. She shares how she has learnt to see beyond the surface and notice the design principles and invisible ‘rules’ that were followed – and sometimes broken – by ancient embroiderers, whether stitching for family or the royal court. 

Heehwa keeps these traditions alive and shares how she uses these techniques – and channels the spirit in which they were made – recreating historic artefacts that are an integral part of Korea’s cultural heritage.

Heehwa’s nickname, JOHH, which she uses on social media, is derived from the Korean format of her name, which shows the surname first and the given name last, Jo Heehwa.

Heehwa Jo: My work is based on traditional Korean stitch techniques and subjects. I’m interested in generating ideas within traditional principles and adding my own creative take on it. I’ve got two ways of working with my embroidery. One is doing embroidery based on historic pieces. I do this for my own self-development, as well as preserving the traditional skills. The other is creating embroidery with my own stamp on it in pursuit of the trinity of craft: aesthetic, utility and meaning. 

I am particularly fond of the texture made by stitches and I try to make an impact purely by using threads. Whenever I’m talking about or teaching Korean embroidery, I always emphasise that embroidery is the art of stitches and its language is threads. Traditional Korean embroidery uses mainly sheen silk twisted thread, which creates texture and reflects light and colour.

“The direction of the stitch creates very different textural effects. If you fill in an identical shape using the same stitch and thread, it will look different depending on the direction of the stitch because of the way the light reflects on it. The more lustrous the thread, the more distinctive the difference.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

Creating impact with thread

“It’s really important to know the characteristics of thread in relation to the levels of twist and stitch directions. Then you can plan a design and process according to your intention. That is what really intrigues me, regardless of the tradition.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

My goal is the ultimate expression of threads – something that I’m working towards mastering through practice and experimentation. That’s why I cherish and value thread – just as a sculptor makes the most of marble, and a cook their ingredients. Of course, I care about colours and design composition as well, but they are not unique to embroidery. 

I love using traditional Korean embroidery stitches, and I’m keen on showing their distinctive features. Although many Korean stitch techniques are the same, or similar to, stitches from other countries (albeit with different names), the act of stitching is a combination of techniques, materials, colours, usage and so on. These distinct characteristics are specific to different cultures.

In traditional Korean embroidery, certain stitch techniques are often closely associated with particular elements. For example, Jarit-su (a kind of brick stitch) is normally combined with twisted thread rather than half-twisted thread. Neukkim-su (it’s hard to find the equivalent but it’s a row of sparse stitches on top of satin stitches) was commonly used in embroidery done by ordinary people. While Jingguem-su (couching or goldwork), traditionally was mainly used by professional embroiderers working for nobles or the royal family, although individuals sometimes used it, albeit in different ways.

On the shoulders of giants

My work is a collaboration between myself and those who have come before me. It is a combination of their wisdom and my creativity. It is physically and spiritually connected to traditional Korean embroidery, particularly from Joseon dynasty (1392­-1897). Nearly all existing Korean embroidery pieces are from this period.

I often make replicas of ancient artefacts. While I’m recreating the pieces I try to empathise with the original makers. I imagine their circumstances and what they might have been thinking so that I can connect with their spirit and understand their way of approaching the work.

“For instance, when I look at a piece of historic embroidery, rather than just reproducing the colour itself, I like to study it and take away how the different colours have been combined. After studying many pieces over and over, I realised that it is the way the colours are organised that matters.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

For example, you might see a historic design with a pair of four semi-concentric water waves in different shades of one colour. At first glance they seem to be the expected colour gradations from dark to light, yet when you look more closely, they are not. One might go from dark green to light green and then to yellow, instead of the expected lighter green. Another, which is overall a blue-to-white gradation, suddenly has purple included. Or, in a red-to-white gradation, you will find a sky blue used. From my research, it seems that often the makers got bored with using the standardised colour shades and so introduced something unexpected.

Historically, embroiderers – including those for the royal court – could be creative and witty with their designs. I love discovering examples of them using freestyle stitching (sometimes a bit clumsy) or introducing a curious lavender-coloured deer, or perhaps including unexpected asymmetric figures in a symmetrical design. I like to bring a similar approach to my work.

The language of symbols

Nearly every motif in traditional Korean embroidery has a symbolic interpretation, so the way they are combined is important in terms of creating meaning. For example, a deer (symbolically the spirit of Taoism) is often shown with a mushroom (representing the elixir of life); a representation of the ‘deer’ (or Taoist spirit) achieving eternal life by eating the mushroom.

The concept of yin and yang – that opposites are needed in order for harmony to exist – meant that historically Korean embroiderers or painters preferred to put things in pairs. It might be a pair of the same animal (for example, a buck and a doe) or a pair of different things that go well together due to their symbolism, such as a pine tree and a bamboo tree, or a deer and a mushroom.

You can also make a symmetrical design out of a set of the traditional Korean longevity symbols. For example, placing a pine tree and a bamboo tree on opposite sides to each other in one panel, or a pine tree on one side of a pillow end and a bamboo tree on the other. You might use other trees if you like, and you can find a peach tree replacing bamboo in some ancient pieces, however, you’d never use something like maple trees or elderflower trees as longevity symbols. I like to notice such conceptual elements and bring them into my work.

Making up for lost time

I don’t intend to stick to the traditional way of doing things all of the time and I’m willing to be more flexible in my future work. Yet, chances are that I’ll continue working with the traditional techniques and subjects because I’d really like to see Korean embroidery given the attention it deserves.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s, Korean embroidery – along with every other element of the country – went through tough times due to Japanese colonialism. Traditional Korean embroidery was banned and people were forced to embroider in the Japanese style. This was at a time when there was a huge wave of Western culture and rapid industrialisation. 

It is only recently that Korean embroidery has begun to be studied properly and given its place. I can’t help wondering what it would have been like if it hadn’t been interrupted and, instead, given the chance to develop. It will be hard to make up for the lost time and bring Korean embroidery to where it would have been. Nevertheless, I want to try my best to branch out directly from the original Korean embroidery, rather than rushing to jump forward 100 years.

The creative process

I often embroider for hours on end, so it’s hard for me to set time aside just to plan and develop ideas. While I’m not good at organising things, I’m constantly gathering ideas. Often, I’ll be thinking about my next project when I’m walking down the street, having a cup of coffee, taking a shower, or working on a current piece.

“I’ll sit with an idea, and it will often go through several rounds of revisions in my head before I bring it to fruition.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

So, although I might look spaced out, my mind is busy figuring out and testing ideas, and discarding some of them along the way.

My design process is quite intuitive and instinctive. Most of it is rooted in the Korean tradition and cultural heritage, which is filled with symbolism. While there are no absolute rules, and not every piece of historic Korean embroidery follows the same structure or design, with experience and having done loads of research, you can figure out some patterns. 

When it comes to working out my design, I used to sketch with pencil and paper, which I feel most comfortable with, but I’ve gotten used to using Adobe Illustrator due to the convenient data storage.

The mother of invention

The only tools I need are a needle, embroidery threads and my hands. I like to use whatever I have around. I realised that, in the past, people didn’t have much equipment, and sometimes accidentally created something better by just managing with what they had. Therefore, I feel rather excited when I’m running out of a particular material and have to make do in order to keep going.

We often make the twisted thread ourselves; buying untwisted silk thread and twisting it by hand according to one’s preferred degree of twist. A thread can also be somewhere in between the twisted and the half-twisted. 

There are no specific brands for Korean embroidery thread. An equivalent may be something like DMC twisted silk thread, which is somewhat in between but a little bit closer to twisted rather than half-twisted thread. Outside of Korea, I usually recommend people look for 2-ply twisted silk thread or if you want a specific brand, Soie Gobelins from Au Ver a Soie would be a good example. The Silk Mill is a great visual resource.

“However, there are no strict rules to follow, so technically you can use anything.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

Is it worth making?

I can struggle with justifying what I create. I should say that I really love fine art, especially painting. But one of the reasons I value these traditional embroidered items so much is their practicality. Although technically, the embroidery has no function itself, one could say it has a spiritual one, like an amulet that prevents misfortune, strengthening positive symbolic meanings from the auspicious design. 

What’s interesting, however, is that most traditional embroidery embellished items created for specific functions or purposes. Of course, I’d love it if people today were able to use the items I make in the way our ancestors did. However, it’s a fact that these objects are not in everyday use nowadays. So, it’s a dilemma when I’m making something that is supposed to be used but is actually only ever looked at.

“Despite creating embroidered objects without a function, I’m always trying, at the very least, to instil the essence of craft in my work – aesthetic, utility and meaning. Therefore I’m always asking myself the same question: ‘Is it worth making?’.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

I hope asking this will help my work develop and mature, as well as continuing the Korean legacy of traditional embroidery, which encompasses longevity symbols, auspicious design, yin and yang, and the pure heart of the ancient embroiderers, which is found in their works.

The power of curating

In 2022 I held my first solo exhibition, which was a great impetus for me to develop my work. I also fulfilled my dream of curating and hosting an exhibition. As well as my embroidery, I prepared everything, from selecting a traditional Korean house in Seoul as the venue to designing and making posters, invitations and digital brochures (using the photos taken by my better half), plus leaflets and description labels. I even created a set of display stands by customising rods, panels and fabrics so that I could arrange my works just the way I wanted. 

Although all of this took a lot of time and effort it was worth it as, in the past, I had sometimes seen my embroidery or others’ being exhibited inappropriately or unattractively. Being my own creative director is something that I hope to continue in the future.

Seeing the light

People often comment that I have BA degrees in both Korean Language and Korean Literature, and Fashion and Textiles. That unusual combination sums up my life-long interests. Since I was a child, I’ve been captivated by anything relating to art and handicrafts, as well as Korean language and traditional culture. The national museums and galleries, or the ancient Korean palaces and temples in Seoul and other cities were our family’s regular holiday spots. I really enjoyed looking around the classical artefacts and architecture – and even souvenirs at the gift shops.

I wouldn’t describe my family as artistic but that kind of thing seems to be in my blood. My dad was a self-employed, skilful neon sign maker who wrote letters and drew his own designs. My mum was the one who, every morning I discussed what to wear and how to match things. She first taught me how to draw, sew and knit.

“This family culture encouraged me to feel comfortable with seeing colours and creating things by hand, as well as preferring to work for myself rather than be an employee. Although I never thought I’d be an embroidery artist, I knew that I would end up doing something like it.”

Heewha Jo, Textile artist

I’m directly inspired and influenced by Korean relics like paintings, costumes and pottery, along with embroidery, and indirectly by my interest in fashion and fashion design. I’ve been interested in clothing for as long as I can remember, which is why I ended up studying Fashion and Textiles and working in the clothing industry. 

It was while I was working for an international company that I first saw embroidery in a new light. I also used to design and make clothes myself. Nowadays, although fashion doesn’t directly impact my work, something like the theme of a seasonal fashion collection, a magazine fashion shoot or the colour palette of the year does make my heart beat faster and fuel my creativity.

I used to be the type of person who falls easily in and out of love with what I like. I loved painting, knitting, making clothes, writing and whatsoever, but none of them held my interest for long. This is probably why I hesitated about going straight into my own business. 

Those around me – and even me if I’m honest – probably thought my interest in embroidery would die down. However, it’s been eight years or so now since I’ve devoted myself solely to Korean embroidery and I’m still not tired of it. I have a long list of ideas to embroider so there’s no room for anything else. It will take me an enormous amount of time, maybe more than my lifetime, to complete all of what I want to create.

l would like to share what I know and love of Korean embroidery through exhibitions, lectures and talks, as well as photos and books, in both Korean and English if possible. My dream is to present a new collection of work regularly – perhaps annually or biannually as fashion designers normally do. Of course it would be a challenge, requiring a massive amount of time and effort from me, but it would be worth it as there are trends in embroidery today just as there were in the past.

Elizabeth’s work also demonstrates how one’s emotions and state of mind can influence mixed media choices. When serious illness came knocking at Elizabeth’s door, she became acutely aware of how her rollercoaster health journey dictated whether to pick up a needle or a paintbrush. And she gave herself permission to follow those artistic instincts.

Variety is truly the spice of Elizabeth’s creative life. And by not playing favourites among stitch, watercolour and ink, she shows us how mixed media possibilities are truly endless. Including earning a spot on a major TV competition show!

Mixed media freedom

When I stitch, it’s deliberate. I know where my needle is going and what I want to achieve. But when I work in mixed media, I’m able to break away from some of the predictability of stitch and can instead be led by the medium I am using.

I often use a lino-print or watercolour on fabric as my starting point. These base paintings and prints are abstract. I then use embroidery to highlight the abstract piece, using colour and shape to enhance the composition. I find this approach helps me embrace the accidents and incidentals, which are always my favourite bits in my watercolour and print works.

I experiment through trial and error when choosing inks and paints to find the right combination of fabric and ink or paint. I usually work with a highly pigmented watercolour paint on a medium-weight calico. I recently ran out of my painting fabric, and even though I’m sourcing new fabric from the same place, it looks like it’s been treated differently, as the paint seems to bleed more into the fabric. So, I’m still looking for the perfect fabric.

For printing, I use a calico-safe wash ink, and I prefer to print upon a heavy linen. Because I’m after an abstract application of the ink, I find the slubs in the linen add interest and texture to the prints.

When I’m asked for advice about using mixed media, I suggest just giving it a go and then keep going. It’s all about experimentation. Try a few different combinations of fabrics and paints. Then when you find a combination that works for you, keep practising, exploring and learning.

I also think it can be helpful to not only focus upon stitching. I’m currently enjoying learning more about watercolour through my abstract floral pieces. I tend to go in cycles alternating among stitch, print and paint as my favoured media. It gives me an opportunity to grow and learn and then bring that knowledge to my mixed media work.

Finding Balance

I was given a sewing machine for my 21^st birthday whilst studying architecture at Oxford Brookes University. I started to explore machine embroidery, and I often used my abstract stitching as inspiration for building plans and elevations. My first stitched artwork was an interpretation of Le Corbusier’s Modular Man that I machine embroidered on my flatmate’s old leather apron as part of my coursework. I also surprised my tutors by sewing my final projects!

After leaving university, I dabbled in art here and there. I made some embroideries, lino-printed Christmas cards each year and occasionally sketched, but I hadn’t formed an artistic practice. I don’t think I realised how much I needed art until I was retraining in public health. I needed a creative outlet to help me maintain balance.

I’m a public health professional in my day job, and the pandemic response was incredibly challenging. I had both a strategic and operational leadership role during the pandemic, including setting up testing arrangements, managing outbreaks, writing local emergency policies and advising medical groups and the general public. The hours were long, intense and pressured.

Art, especially embroidery, became an essential way for me to maintain balance whilst working. Stitching is very much like meditation and mindfulness, and it became an ideal way to switch off the buzzing in my brain, slow down and regulate work during tense times.

Now when I find myself itching to be creative, I try to give myself art time at least once a week. A big part of that is giving myself permission. I recognise art is an essential part of who I am and what I need to maintain balance.

I also strongly advocate for the use of art in public health. Art has been proven to provide health benefits when used as an intervention. It also prompts conversations that otherwise might not happen, which ultimately improves access to health across communities.

The eyes have it

I’ve always been drawn to eyes, as I think they display an honesty about a person. So much of an individual’s personality and thought processes seep through their eyes, and I try to reflect that essence through my embroideries. Creating eye embroideries during the pandemic was also a great way for me to feel closer to friends and family whilst we were all in our household bubbles.

My first eye portraits were of my son and daughter. I loved how viewers could tell immediately whose eyes were whose and that their personalities could be seen. My early eye portraits were far less detailed than those I create now. And in some ways, I’d like to go back to that earlier simplicity, as now there are so many stitches!

I use a source photograph to create my portraits. I’ll usually start by stitching guidelines as a rough starting point and then dive in with all the additional stitching. I don’t really start with an end point in mind. I just let the shapes and colours evolve as I go along.

I prefer unbleached calico as the base fabric. I like its natural fibres and how the fabric’s slubs show. My threads come from a rather messy box filled with small, rescued thread scraps nestled alongside new threads. It always delights me to find a small length of thread in the perfect shade. Some threads in my box have been handed down and are over 50 years old.

In loving memory

My mom was an avid textile artist and, whilst in treatment for breast cancer, she designed and created a beautiful cross stitch of a nesting bird. It has long been a treasured and inspiring piece.

I thought long and hard about how I might honour that piece using stitch and then, as we entered a period of lockdown, the concepts of home, nurture and family came to the fore. My ‘nest’ motif was born.

I created several nest works as part of my Stay at Home series that included three embroidered nests in colour palettes reminiscent of my mom. I also created a mixed media print and embroidered nest, and a series of lino-print nests, each with a different application of ink. I wanted to show the very different experiences during lockdown, so each piece is its own unique variation.

As with my eye portraits, the nests were created from my messy box of threads and, fittingly, many of the thread scraps had originally been used by my mom. I stuck to my usual style of stitching using double stranded threads and satin stitch all in a vertical plane.

Selfie time

Flashes of Self is a self portrait created in reaction to working in emergency response during the pandemic. The job was exhausting and draining, and whilst working very long days, we were all separate and working remotely from home. The portrait explores the different emotional dimensions I exhibited during the pandemic. I became functional and reactive, however, through my time with family and art, glimpses and flashes of my true self came through. I was in danger of losing a bit of myself, and so self-portraits were a way of reclaiming what was important to me.

Covid Selfie was my first full self-portrait. I had previously stitched my eye, but this was far more ambitious. I actually started working on the selfie before the pandemic. I stitched the cheek, and then for whatever reason, I became a bit daunted by the size of the undertaking and left it for a while. I think when I picked it back up, it was without really thinking about the finished product. I was more interested in the process and the opportunity to unwind.

I initially worked from a photograph, but then I took artistic licence! I try not to think about the whole, but instead look at the shapes and colours as I go along. It is only really at the end that I step back and see the whole portrait has emerged.

First solo show

I entered an open exhibition at the General Office art gallery in Stourbridge in 2019. I was lucky enough to win the People’s Choice Award for the open, and my prize was my own solo exhibition at the gallery!

I spent some time compiling works and a narrative for the show. Three sets of series work were displayed to reflect different parts of my pandemic experience, and each series used a different artefact as its starting point. 

Apart explored isolation, identity, separation and sparks of life using an embroidered ‘covid selfie’ as a starting point. Stay at Home explored safety, comfort, protection and nurture of home with the nesting series inspired by my mom’s cross stitch. And Beauty in the Incidental looked at the everyday and familiar through a new lens, exploring the passing of seasons on local landscapes. The starting point for that series was an embroidered inkblot of the moon.

The exhibition’s title, A Long Line, refers to both a stitch and a reference to my textile artist heritage. I wanted to acknowledge the fact my solo show was a moment in time in the stitching journey of many generations of creatives.

Needlework had a very strong presence in my mother’s side of the family. I learnt to sew with my mum. She taught me using an old Singer sewing machine on which I promptly sewed through my finger! The needle literally broke off in my finger, and I had to get a tetanus injection.

I’ve also taken a lot of inspiration from my aunt’s use of colour in her quilts. She is great at adding accents that really lift her work.

I feel much gratitude for having the skills and patience needed for needlework and other art forms, as well as my parents’ exposing me to art and creating. I take much joy in seeing these skills passed on to the next generation, and I wanted to celebrate their work in the exhibition too.

And action!

In 2022, I was fortunate to be selected to compete in Sky Arts’ well-respected TV show Portrait Artist of the Year. My mixed media Flashes of Self work earned me the spot.

The competition gives artists four hours to paint (or, in my case, stitch) a celebrity sitter. As one might imagine, four hours is no time at all for a textile artist. Especially when one is being interviewed, photographed and recorded live all at once.

Unfortunately, my grand plans to practise beforehand were fairly scuppered, as I was also planning my solo show and moving house at the same time. So, my actual preparation was simply thinking how best to achieve my outcome in four hours whilst staying true to my style.

My celebrity sitter was Bruno Tonioli, a former judge on Strictly Come Dancing. He was great fun, but he would not sit still! I started off with a quick sketch to make sure I had the composition I wanted. I then blocked in some guidelines, so I could make sure the sitter’s features were positioned and proportioned correctly. I then used a black thread to sketch in features, and halfway through, I added a splash of watercolour to give a bit more shadow to the piece. Finally, I started adding stitch details to one of the eyes. I managed to complete the work, but Bruno’s comment was that he wanted more: the Bayeux Tapestry no less! I’ll continue to think about how I can adapt textile art to a four-hour timeframe.

Art and illness

I learned I had breast cancer shortly after I appeared on Sky Art’s Portrait Artist of the Year TV show and after hosting my solo show. Because I lost my mother to breast cancer at an early age, there were quite a few emotions to process. Once again, I turned to my art, and I found it interesting to discover how my emotions and overall state-of-mind at any given point influenced what type of creative medium I chose.

For example, during the four weeks after diagnosis, but pre-operation, I simply could not embroider. The process was too long and deliberate, and I was in my head too much. So, I sought a new medium: watercolour. Watercolour is relatively rapid which was fascinating, especially in how it forced me to watch and learn and essentially hand control over to the paint.

Now when I look back at those paintings, I can see the emotion or thoughts I was subconsciously processing. For instance, the painting I made the day before my operation is defiant and haunting, and I keep it in my studio as a reminder.

After my operation, I was much more comfortable reaching for my needle and thread again. I had prepared some fabrics with paint in readiness, and I embroidered into those to create mixed media pieces whilst I was recuperating.

Having a dedicated creative space has also helped. I have always thought a key benefit of working with textiles is they are portable. I used to stitch anywhere, including the train, curled up on a chair, and poolside whilst waiting for the children to finish their classes. But we recently moved house, and I was adamant about bagging one of the rooms as a studio. I love it. The light is great, and it’s just lovely to have a space that is all about creating and finding balance.

I am still on my healing journey, and thankfully, the cancer appears to have all been removed. I am still due to have more operations over the coming year. But this illness journey has been one of growth and learning, and I can’t wait to see where it takes my art.

Fortunately, I found a doctor who understood both my disease and artistic heartache, and together we figured out a plan to regain the use of my hands. Today, I stitch more slowly, and I can’t last as long, but I’m thrilled to say I’m still stitching.

I also have a new-found appreciation for my fingers and joints and the dexterity I still possess. As they push a needle through fabric, knot a thread or snip a frayed edge, I’m grateful for their continued partnership in helping me tell my stories in stitch.

We’ve gathered five textile artists who have also experienced illness challenges, and they’re sharing the works they created in response to those journeys. They describe how stitching helped support them during and after difficult times, as well as the physical and emotional impact stitching had in their recoveries.

Sonja Hillen starts us off with her stitched response to her husband’s cancer journey. Michelle Ligthart then shares her stitched book chronicling her decision to have her breast implants removed. Haf Weighton follows with her scary and ironic experience of becoming ill while working on a textile commission for a hospital. Linda Langley next describes picking up needle and thread to process her mom’s breast cancer diagnosis. And Jane Axell closes by sharing how mindful stitching helps keep illness at bay.

We’re grateful to each of these artists for sharing their stories and work in such candid and inspiring ways.

Sonja Hillen – A caregiver’s view

When a life-threatening diagnosis comes out of nowhere, it’s not just the patient who’s tossed about. Caregivers also experience their own challenges. Such was the case for Sonja Hillen when her husband was diagnosed with cancer and given about eight years to live. Their children were 12, 10 and 6 at the time, and it would be a five-year odyssey for them all. Fortunately, a stem cell transplant was successful, and Sonja’s husband is cancer-free today.

Countless doctor appointments and scary hospital stays happened across those five long years. And Sonja turned to stitch to help process her and her husband’s unfolding story.

‘We processed all the doctor conversations and treatments while trying to keep the family going as best possible. I felt like I was living on adrenaline, so I started stitching to help me rest a bit while sitting by my husband’s bed. For me, embroidery means working with the human dimension, and when I’m stitching, I’m in a bubble where time slows down.’

For better or for worse is a collection of five pieces showcasing pivotal times and places across what Sonja calls ‘our cancer rollercoaster’. Though each panel features simple black embroidery on a white linen background, the stories are massively poignant. Especially her depiction of her husband’s knit hat.   

‘I wanted the images about being sick to be as clear as possible and to embroider what needed the most attention. Every night when my husband went to bed, he threw his knit hat at the corner of the bed. He was bald from chemotherapy and very thin, so he got cold quickly. In the morning, he’d put the hat right back on. It touched me very deeply, and I knew I had to capture it in stitch.’

Sonja’s attention to detail and purposeful exclusion of people makes her work poetic and recognisable. For example, she chose the sofa and personal items to emphasise how small one’s world becomes when sick. The exam table paper accentuates the importance of a correct diagnosis and treatment plan. The tangle of hoses and pumps in a hospital room demonstrates the severity of treatment.

‘The last work is a waiting room filled with chairs, and one chair stands out. That’s my husband’s chair, as it’s his story. Still, all the other seats show how many other people are sick and dealing with their own stories.’

Sonja’s husband says her work was more about her cancer experience than his. He only served as ‘the occasion’ and seeing events through her eyes was ‘beautiful, powerful and impressive’.

Sonja is based in Nijmegen in The Netherlands. After working as a nurse for years, she attended the Nieuwe Akademie Utrecht (art academy) and graduated five years later. She is most proud of her group exhibition called Kwaadaardig Mooi (Viciously Beautiful) at the Tot Zover Museum (Amsterdam) chronicling their collective cancer journeys.

Website: www.sonjahillen.nl

Facebook: facebook.com/sonja.hillen/

Instagram: @sonja.hillen1

Michelle Ligthart – A woman’s choice

At age 60, Michelle Ligthart made a big decision: to voluntarily have her breast implants removed. She wasn’t ill, but Michelle didn’t want to worry about becoming ill in the future. To be sure, it wasn’t an easy decision. So, she chronicled her physical and emotional journey by creating a textile book called Book of Breasts.  

The book’s pages are filled with imagery bearing unique meanings and varied textile art techniques that Michelle learned in TextileArtist.org’s Stitch Club. For example, the book’s cover features a trapunto technique featured in Julie Booth’s workshop. Many breasts in varying sizes are featured, and some have a scar.

‘When I started the project, I was obsessed with breasts. I’d even stare at other women’s breasts. I tried to reflect that obsession across three pages of text. The first page features a neutral definition of breast, and the second and third are filled with every synonym of breast I could find in alphabetical order. Some are funny, and some not so much. I stitched the synonyms for “tiny breasts” in red because that would be me after surgery.’

Michele also used rust printing techniques learned in Alice Fox’s workshop. That page features two breasts with scar stitches reflecting Michelle’s need to prepare herself for the stitches she would have after surgery. She also attached her first bra across two pages.

‘I got my first bra when I was 37, and I’ve treasured it for more than 20 years. My partner gave it to me, after telling the salesperson he needed a bra that fit “a handful”. It has some holes to reflect my saying goodbye to my dear breasts and bras.’

Michelle also included the bag in which she brought the implants home with her. She sewed a red cross onto the storage bag, and then she created stitched covers for the implants themselves that had emoticons on both sides to reflect her mixed emotions about the surgery. The book ends with a colourful page on which she stitched the words ‘proudly flat again’.

A week after her surgery, Michelle hesitantly shared her work in the Stitch Club members’ area. She worried members who were recovering from breast cancer might be hurt, since she wasn’t ill and had chosen to have implants in the first place. But the community’s response was overwhelmingly positive.

‘My decision really affected me, so making the book helped me process my emotions. It wasn’t just something to keep my hands busy. It was an artistic way to create meaning, and the slow stitching helped me reflect on the stages I went through preparing for my operation. I also wanted to create something beautiful out of my sadness.’

Michelle lives part of the year in the Netherlands, and the other part is spent touring South America with her husband in an offroad camper. She started stitching when she joined TextileArtist.org’s Stitch Club, and now enjoys collecting old linens for her work. She plans to create a new textile book in the future.

Haf Weighton – When the artist gets sick

Imagine being commissioned to create a commemorative work for a hospital, only to find yourself hospitalised with an unknown illness during its creation. That’s what happened to Haf Weighton when the Rookwood Hospital in Cardiff, UK, asked her to design a work celebrating its history.

Haf’s symptoms stumped doctors, and ironically, she spent a month in a hospital run by the same trust that runs Rookwood. Eventually, she was diagnosed with a rare form of pneumonia that took over a year’s recovery. She stitched throughout that entire illness journey.

A tiled floor mosaic in Rookwood’s entryway bearing the word ‘Salve’ served as Haf’s starting point. Haf researched its meaning and discovered it roughly translated as ‘heal’ in most languages.

‘I mainly used hand stitch because I was working from my hospital bed. I decided I needed to find a way to heal that didn’t solely rely on modern medicine. This is how I learned the true meaning of “salve” in my illness journey. Stitching kept me strong through it all, and my creativity truly helped me recover.’

The background fabric in Rookwood is recycled cotton sheets. Haf thought sheets were particularly significant for a hospital where patients spend days, months or even years in their beds. Haf first painted the sheets with acrylic paints and then heat transferred her drawings onto the fabric. She then machine-stitched pieces together, followed by detailed hand stitching embellishment.

‘Recovering from an illness isn’t about taking medicine. It’s about finding ways to look after and be kind to yourself. So, for me, “salve” is about stitching. And I literally used that commission to stitch my health back together.’

While Haf beat the odds with pneumonia, she tested positive for Covid in 2022. It was frightening having already battled respiratory issues. But she again turned to making art, including an online daily drawing challenge that challenged her to sketch what she could see from her home.

‘We spent so much time in our homes during the pandemic. So, when I was sick with Covid, I reflected on the comfort of our homes. I used my creativity to help me recover by turning those sketches into stitched pieces. That body of work has now grown into an upcoming solo exhibition called “Cysur” which is the Welsh word for “comfort.”

Haf is a Welsh-speaking artist living in Penarth, South Wales. She has exhibited her work globally, and she also runs workshops for both Cardiff and Vale University Health Boards and the National Museum of Wales at Oasis, a centre for refugees and asylum seekers. Haf is a juried member of the Society for Embroidered Work and The Society for Designer Crafts.  

​​Website: www.hafanhaf.com

Facebook: facebook.com/hafanhaf

Instagram: @hafweightonartist

Linda Langley – Diagnostic layering

Linda Langley was working as a radiographer when her mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer. Having much experience in mammography, Linda knew her mum faced a serious battle.

Sadly, despite treatment, her mum’s cancer ultimately spread, resulting in bone cancer and brain secondaries. Linda’s mom passed away in 1984.

‘I was very aware of the journey most breast cancer patients take. She was only 67, and while it was a long time ago, I still remember her dearly.’

Linda joined TextileArtist.org’s Stitch Club during the height of Covid. She was enjoying the various workshops, but when she saw artist Jenny McHatton’s presentation, Linda knew she wanted to use Jenny’s creative challenge to memorialise her mum.

The workshop instructed members to gather a variety of materials and then shared techniques for gathering and twisting those materials in different ways. Boro stitching was then used to help secure the fabrics, as well as add additional surface design. Linda chose a variety of natural fabrics from her collection to twist and stitch. And the base was from an old linen napkin she had received from a Canadian friend.

‘I have learnt to love layers, and therefore, lace and sheers are prominent in my collection. I thought they were especially useful in depicting breast tissue. I knew very little about Boro stitching, so that was a challenge. ’Linda’s piece My Mum’s Breast includes a lateral view of the breast akin to what a mammographer would see. Linda says lateral views are especially important as they visualise the lymph system at the breast axillary area which can sometimes show if cancer cells have spread to other areas. Linda sought to create the breast’s complexity using twisted fabric layers and stitch to recreate its many layers, blood vessels and nerves that go in all directions.

‘I loved making this, especially thinking it could encourage women to have mammograms. And I was thrilled by other members’ positive feedback. I hadn’t worked with textiles for a long time due to life’s challenges. And my education was incomplete due to financial restrictions. Members’ feedback gave me the confidence I needed.’

Linda is retired and resides in Croxley Green, Hertfordshire. She especially enjoys the research aspect of embroidery, as well as detail and texture. Other hobbies include cooking and gardening.

Jane Axell – Stitching to heal

Jane Axell experienced a variety of illnesses throughout her childhood, including recurrent chest infections, psoriasis, and some anxiety and depression. Traditional medical treatments were sought over the years, but none seemed to have lasting effects. So as an adult, Jane turned to natural therapies, including courses in reiki and crystal healing. She also explored Christianity, Buddhism and other healing modalities.

In 2007, Jane started working with The Sanctuary of Healing (Lancashire, UK), which delivers a variety of healing frequencies, such as crystal energy and light and colour frequencies. Her health started to improve dramatically, and she hasn’t had a chest infection since 2009. Other ailments have also healed.

‘I learned how stress plays a major role in illness. Stress hormones create an invisible field of energy that surrounds your body and turns off natural self-repair mechanisms. So, you need something to trigger a relaxation response in your mind so your body can heal itself. For me, one of my main triggers is creating textile art.’

Jane is a member of TextileArtist.org’s Stitch Club where she participates in as many workshops as possible. She also attends a monthly stitching workshop, a monthly felting group and a weekly crafting group.

Soft, red rose started as a contribution to an upcoming exhibit for Jane’s local stitching group. Artists were asked to create a red rose (the emblem of Lancashire) in a hoop for an exhibition at Astley Hall. Shortly after Jane started composing her work, she viewed Jenny McIlhatton’s Stitch Club workshop, which featured folding, rolling, twisting and loosely stitching different fabrics. It was exactly what she had been attempting to do!

‘The techniques gave my work texture, loft and character. I used all kinds of scraps from my fabric stash – from curtain samples to fine cottons and scrims. I love their soft fraying. I also adore silk velvet and used that for the soft folds of the rose. A piece of hand-dyed red silk is in the centre.’

The stem and leaves were created from a piece of printed cotton covered with loop stitches, and red French knots also added texture. In addition to being pleased with the result, Jane said it also boosted her creative confidence.

‘I think by indulging in any kind of creative practice, you can forget your cares, and enter into a sense of wonder and playfulness that can be very healing. Honouring your creativity is your way of bringing love into the world. The secret is to carry that lovely feeling back into your life once your play session is over!’

Jane lives in the picturesque Ribble Valley in Lancashire, UK. She is a writer for TextileArtist.org where she loves interviewing and writing about a wide variety of textile artists. Jane participated in her first exhibition called Colours, Textures and Heritage of Lancashire (2022) with Ribble Creative Stitchers and the Bolton Stitch Group.

Instagram: @jaxtextiles

Storytelling with textiles can be especially engaging. Their tactile nature adds a meaningful backdrop, and the patterns and textures created with needle and thread readily embellish an artist’s storyline. Often the materials themselves have their own stories, which also help elevate the impact of figurative work.

Sue Stone is a leading figurative textile artist, and we have published several articles showcasing her creative process and techniques.

We’re now excited to introduce an additional five figurative artists whose work is as diverse as the artists themselves. They all present their unique worldviews with innovative, and sometimes surprising, materials and techniques.

Richard Saja kicks us off with his purposeful historical inaccuracies, followed by Mathilde Renes, whose seemingly simple stitchwork tells big stories of friendship and loss. Ruth Miller next immerses us in her southern American experience, and then Anat Artman meddles with famous historical paintings. Lastly, Melissa Emerson takes us into her world as a fierce Mama Bear.

Enjoy this stitched journey into the human experience.

Richard Saja

Subversive stitching

Richard Saja likes nothing better than adding humour and touches of sass to his textile art. His stitched punchlines come to life by embroidering over historically stoic pastoral scenes to suggest mysterious and often raucous storylines. Traditional French Toile de Jouy serves as Richard’s canvas for creating his subversive stitched tales.

‘Selecting specific areas of a traditional toile print to embroider over automatically subverts its intended use by breaking the anonymity of the pattern. Suddenly, with stitches and colour, motifs are brought to the fore, demanding attention. Added imagery becomes provocative in social, political or cultural ways.’

Richard had first embroidered this print using the colour spectrum blocked out across the two figures. But for this piece, he wanted to make the embroidery more intricate and ornate. He also sought to have the colours interact in a wholly new way.

‘I wanted to draw out the conflict evident in the body language of the two figures. The man is clearly entreating/declaring, but the woman turns away, proffering a token crown instead. The title describes its depiction: LOVE is compromise. And the sumptuousness of their clothing holds no advantage over the complexity of emotion.’

Over 20 years ago, Richard had a small decorative pillow company where he taught himself how to embroider out of necessity to fulfil orders. He found he had a certain talent for needlework at the time, and through practice and experimentation, he has developed an artistic voice uniquely his own.

Monsters, aliens and human-animal hybrids often feature in his work and hark back to Richard’s childhood. Having felt like an outsider while growing up, Richard identified with monster movie characters who were targeted as ‘bad guys.’ Over time, those stitched characters grew to become an iconic feature in his altered scenes.

Richard doesn’t have any favourite stitches. He’s instead interested in exploring the ways stitches work together with colour to create textural surfaces. He also embroiders over Aubusson tapestries, which exposed the close bonds between embroidery and knot making that he chooses to exploit.

‘I don’t claim to be a traditional needle worker. I find the establishment to be very regimented and inflexible, and in my mind, there’s no room for that way of thinking in the creative arts. It’s prose versus poetry. My work isn’t interesting to me if it’s not amping it up a couple of notches.’

Richard Saja is based in the Village of Catskill in the beautiful Hudson Valley (NY, US). His work is included in many private collections, as well as the permanent collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. He has exhibited globally, from the Museum of Fine Arts (Boston) to the Chung Young Yang Embroidery Museum in Seoul, Korea.

Website: historically-inaccurate.blogspot.com/

Instagram: @richardsaja

Mathilde Renes

Dearest friends

Mathilde Renes has added to her illustrated diary every day since 1997. Her whimsical pen and watercolour sketches document her varied, and often humorous, life events. They also captured adventures with her best friend, Wilma, who sadly passed away from cancer in 2020. Mathilde is now creating a stitched series from those drawings called Sweet Memories.

‘We were friends for more than 50 years. Soulmates. Remembering our friendship through embroidery is a way to process my grief. We visited often, and we’d bring flowers to each other because we loved our gardens. You can see the bouquets and a book about gardening on the table. We also loved to read, so there are many books in this work.’

Mathilde doesn’t trace her diary sketches onto fabric before stitching. She instead picks up a needle threaded with black DMC floss and starts ‘drawing’ with her needle, only using the sketch as a reference. Once a scene is outlined, she then fills in the details with more DMC threads using ordinary flat stitches. Sometimes lazy daisy stitches are used for dress patterns or other textures.

‘I take the same liberties when stitching my figures as I do when drawing in my diary. They are not very realistic. They’re more an interpretation, but I do try to capture a person’s key characteristics.’

Indeed, Mathilde’s attention to characteristics and details of her figures are a hallmark of her work. It’s remarkable how seemingly simple stitchwork can tell a big story. And speaking of key characteristics, Mathilde gives herself a ‘signature’ hairstyle in both drawing and stitch: a bright yellow hair bun held with a large hairpin.

‘I’ve tied my hair in a knot since forever, so I always picture myself with the same haircut and very often from the back. At first, I used different coloured hairpins, but I later decided red would be my trademark, so to speak. Nowadays, I’ll often start a diary drawing or embroidery with my hair.’

Mathilde is largely self-taught, and she started her textile art journey by knitting vases. After inheriting embroidery materials from her aunt in 2013, Mathilde decided to try embroidery. But where to begin? Eventually, she realised her diary held the key, and she’s been stitching her life story ever since.

Mathilde Renes lives on a houseboat (formerly a cargo ship built in 1911) next to a large garden in Spaarndam, Netherlands. Her studio is the garden house, which also serves as a greenhouse (especially in spring) and hiding place. Mathilde has exhibited her work in local solo and group art shows.

Website: mathilderenestextielkunst.exto.org

Facebook: facebook.com/mathilde.renes

Instagram: @mathilde_renes

Ruth Miller

Life-sized storytelling

Ruth Miller’s website bears the perfect moniker: Embroidered Realism. Her life-sized tapestries feature exquisite skin tones and dress through countless layers of different coloured yarns stitched with hundreds of simple stitches. When viewed closely, you’d swear her subjects were breathing.

‘There’s a lush much-ness about embroidery that’s very appealing. So many discrete threads lie beside and atop one another in a series of visual strategies that use colour and stitch direction to form pieces of a puzzle. The textural quality of embroidery adds a third dimension.’

Congregants in the Church of the Like-Minded features three images of a customer at Ruth’s daughter’s beauty shop. Ruth started chatting with the woman to pass the time and she quickly noticed the woman’s very expressive face. “I thought her expressiveness was a form of emotional courage.”

Ruth asked to photograph the customer as they continued to speak, and those images were then combined into this work.  “The emotions we feel tend to become habitual and attract others that are similar as if they were congregants in the Church of the Like-Minded. The non-traditional skin and hair colors are meant to emphasize those feelings and also provide a space for me to experiment with how far I can take an image while still allowing it to be easily recognizable as a real person. I also didn’t want her to think I was making fun of her.  Many Black women not only feel left out of discussions of beauty; they’re often ridiculed or dismissed as well. So, before even setting pencil to paper to create Congregants…, I stitched a more naturally-hued depiction of the same model called Our Lady of Unassailable Well-Being. My hope was that she wouldn’t feel I, too, was casting aspersions. If you think that’s an extreme accommodation, imagine sitting for a portrait and being handed a Cubist rendition by a not-yet-famous Picasso. It would be shocking.”

Ruth first created line drawings from her photos, experimenting with various coloured renderings using pencils. She then cut them out and explored different placements. Once a final composition was chosen, Ruth stitched the piece with 100 per cent wool tapestry yarns because of their durability, colour fastness and availability in hundreds of shades.

In person, a slight sheen is visible on each strand. And viewers are surprised to discover the sweeping curves and movement were actually created with simple straight stitches. Ruth credits the colour-theory lessons she received from Hannes Beckman at Cooper Union for playing a key role in bringing her figures to life.

Ruth Miller is based in Mississippi, US. She has received several awards for her work, including the 2019 Mississippi Governor’s Award for Excellence in Visual Art. She also teaches across the US, including the Penland School of Crafts. And her tapestries have been exhibited at the Mississippi Museum of art and the Huntsville Museum of Art (Alabama, US).

Pinterest: pinterest.com/catahoulams/

Anat Artman

Reimagined masterpieces

Years back, Anat Artman needed something to hang on the wall in her new flat. So, she created a stitched collage, and she’s been doing so ever since. Anat especially enjoys reinterpreting famous old paintings, swapping original figures and settings for her own imagined storylines. Anat’s first inventive collage was based on pre-Raphaelite painter John Everett Millais’s work Mariana. She had just read the book The Sympathy of Things by Lars Spuybroek about a woman rejected by her fiancé. Anat reimagined the book’s character as being the figure in Millais’s painting who stands by her embroidery, hands on hips, eyes looking up at the ceiling.

‘All of the paintings I use as reference feature a woman and some sort of fibre work. I can easily identify with these women, and the paintings usually contain lots of interesting patterns that speak to me.’

Good at Lounges was inspired by Jean-Edouard Vuillard’s Madame Hessel on the Sofa. Anat used scraps and recycled fabrics from discarded clothing, many of which she found in bags near garbage bins. She started with a rough sketch on a base fabric and then developed the piece bit by bit from there. Most artistic decisions were made as she worked, and everything was stitched by hand using a simple whip stitch.

‘I was drawn to Vuillard’s use of patterns and the way the characters are almost lost in them. For this work, I looked for a character that was sitting on a sofa, which is what I do most of the time.’

Anat enjoys creating titles for her works that feature some kind of pun, and this piece features an interesting word play. While Anat doesn’t normally add text to her work, her inclusion of the word ‘sofa’ in multiple languages serves as both pattern and punchline in a fun way.

‘In Hebrew, the phrase good at languages sounds like good at sofas. But translating the pun was difficult in English. I looked for a synonym for sofa that sounded a bit like language, and the closest I could find was lounge. That started me on a journey of researching the word sofa in other languages, which I then stitched onto the work.’

Anat Artman is based in Jerusalem, Israel, and is a member of the TextileArtist.org Stitch Club. She earned degrees in architecture and philosophy, and she has taught architecture at Bezalel Academy for almost 30 years. She has shown her textile art in group and solo exhibits and featured in the Studio Art Quilt Association (SAQA) Journal and SAQA’s online gallery.

Facebook: facebook.com/anat.dart

Instagram: @anat.dart

Melissa Emerson

Life’s tender moments

Melissa Emerson isn’t afraid of tricky surfaces on which to stitch. The more fragile or precarious, the better. One of her most delicate works was stitched on a paper napkin featuring Melissa and her youngest son, legs entwined. When her son accidentally tore the work, she simply repaired it, recognising that mending and carrying on is what life is about. She also thinks the tears only added to the work’s meaning.

‘Memories create who we are, and they shape our future. I am acutely aware that time is precious and fleeting. Sewing helps me capture those memories, cementing the times and places of tending interactions. My muted colour pallet and incomplete details also reflect how memories fade over time despite my strong desire to try and hold on to them.’

Mother, Protector is hand stitched on bubble wrap using sewing machine threads. Several thread layers were first randomly built up to create tones and textures, and then Melissa later reworked areas to achieve more complex details. Some areas of the piece were purposely left incomplete to help direct viewers’ attention toward Melissa’s gaze and her children’s expressions, poses, bedding, and even a stuffed toy dog. And the muted colour palette reflects how memories fade over time.

‘Each piece starts with a photograph, and before I start stitching, I spend quite a lot of time thinking about what I want the piece to say. Many factors influence the direction of my work, so I tend to include or exclude certain elements based on what I want to be the artwork’s focus.’

Melissa often draws her figures on water soluble fabric and then overlays that onto her base foundation. Once stitching is complete, the soluble fabric is washed away. She describes that ‘reveal’ as both nerve wracking and exciting. Melissa also avoids overplanning pieces when creating, as she often changes her mind as a work evolves.

‘I find stitching on delicate surfaces provides an ephemeral base that enhances the feelings of fragility and strength we felt as a family during lockdowns and moving from the UK to Australia. And I chose bubble wrap for this piece as it’s designed to protect things that are fragile, to stop them from breaking. I very much see this as part of my role as mother.’

Melissa Emerson is originally from the UK and now temporarily resides in Canberra, Australia. She previously worked in art education and has been developing her own art practice since 2017. Her work has been exhibited in the UK and Australia, including England’s touring Covid Chronicle textile exhibition (2022).

Website: melissaemersonart.com

Instagram: @mel_emart

”Architecture arouses sentiments in man. The architect’s task, therefore, is to make those sentiments more precise.” Adolf Loos

Like architecture, textile art can stimulate emotion, both in the artist and in the viewer. So what happens when architecture and textile art are combined?

We looked at the work of five artists and one couple, who include buildings of all kinds in their art using a variety of materials and techniques. From appliqué and collage using Indian sari silks and trimmings to aerial maps layered with silk organza. They design structures using fine, illustrative hand and machine stitch, some in knitted cotton yarn, others shaped out of shimmering rayon thread on the finest Irish linen. Each has a beauty, style and impression of its own.

Jackie Gale, Valerie Goodwin, Deborah Toner, Jake Henzler, Gillian Bates and Charles-Henry and Elin Petronella share with us their ideas, their hows and whys – and a piece that was fit for a queen.

You may never look at buildings quite the same again.

Jackie Gale

When you behold the beach and seaside scenes in Jackie Gale’s artwork, you almost sense her joy at picking the vibrant fabrics that make up her illustrative and appliquéd textile art. Pops of sky and sea blues, contrasted with green grasses and the pinks, yellows and oranges of flowers and buildings showcase the cheerful scenes of the Devon and Cornwall coast where Jackie lives.

Her playful and simplistic style, filled with colour, light and texture, is not only restricted to flora and fauna but finds its way into the beach huts, shops and houses that she collages, such as in her imaginative piece Sea Town. 

Quirky houses

Sea Town is a vibrant collection of quirky houses in an imaginary seaside town, loosely inspired by the Cornish town of Fowey.

As with most of her pieces, Jackie began with a sketch on the backing fabric. She then chose vintage sari fabric remnants, sourced directly from India, for their vibrant colours. The texture of the silk and the details and trims on the saris were the perfect addition for intricate features. 

Jackie Gale: ‘The longest time I spend on a piece is on the preparation. I drew and cut out each house individually. Ensuring a variety of shape and colour was essential as I really wanted to attract people to the finer details. I usually create way more than actually ends up in the artwork as I want to have plenty to choose from when it comes to the composition and layout. 

‘The next step was to layer the background scene with the larger components of fabric (the sky and sea) securing them with free motion stitching on a machine. I pinned all the houses on and used the same technique to construct them, gradually building the scene with smaller pieces and eventually moving on to the embellishment. I usually drift off the original sketch – pieces tend to evolve as new ideas arrive throughout a piece of work such as this.

‘Over time, I’ve been developing my skills and exploring the endless possibilities that textile art allows. From this, my style has become looser, more creative and I allow the textures to tell the story.

‘I love using my imagination and creating Sea Town really fed my passion for creativity. I love intricate work, vibrant colours and architectural detail so this really ticked many boxes for me. I believe many artworks reflect an artist’s mood, mind state and character. I can recall the happiness of creating this piece for a joint summer exhibition in Plymouth – it was a joyful and exciting time. I’m sure that sentiment is embodied in Sea Town.’

Jackie Gale is a contemporary textile artist who runs her own art gallery and studio, Edge West Studio at Yealmbridge in Devon. Jackie is self-taught and has worked professionally since 2012. In 2015 she was awarded Best Up and Coming Artist by the Fine Art Guild and, since then has exhibited at galleries across the UK. Her works are held in private collections in the UK and overseas.

Website: jackiegaletextileart.com

Facebook: facebook.com/jackiegaleartist

Instagram: @jackiegaleart

Valerie Goodwin

Valerie Goodwin of Tallahassee, Florida, USA has a quite different perspective on architecture – she views it from above. The inspiration for her quilts – her primary art form – comes from her love of aerial views of landscapes and cities. From this she designs her art quilts as maps, both real and imaginary, using machine piecing and applique.

Not only is Valerie an accomplished quilt artist and workshop leader, she adds an extra dimension to her work through her training and experience as an architect and lecturer.

‘When I first connected with quilting, I immediately knew that I wanted to use my architectural background to guide how I used this medium.’

But Valerie’s work is not simply about exquisite textile art. Her fibre art maps are sometimes used to tell the stories of issues and events, both past and present – as in African Burial Ground II.

Maps intrigue Valerie, both as an art form and as a vehicle for artistic expression. She sees them as personal explorations of map language and imagined landscapes and most of her pieces are not consciously based on a specific place. However, the story of the African Burial Ground, a real place, inspired her piece African Burial Ground II. 

During excavation for the Foley Square Federal Building in lower Manhattan in 1991, preliminary archaeological research uncovered a burial ground thirty feet below street level containing over 15,000 intact skeletal remains and graves of free and enslaved Africans and African Americans, who had lived and worked in the Dutch colony of New York. Public protest was heard from the Black community at the disturbance of the graveyard, construction was halted, and a redesign created to preserve the area of the burial ground. 

Composing the quilt

Valerie Goodwin: ‘On the left side of the quilt is a map of the slave farmlands, the cemetery and Dutch settlement during 1755. It is said that the slaves were given these lands to give the colonists a buffer zone between them and the hostile Native Americans to the north. The right side of this quilt is a map of lower Manhattan as it exists today. The quilt is anchored on the bottom with an imaginary scene of the burial site.

‘The goal of this piece was to celebrate our remarkable journey in this country – especially in light of the relatively recent election of the USA’s first African American president, Barack Obama. For me, it was important that this subject matter inform my art in order to map the memories and experiences of our history as slaves.

Lines and shapes

‘When making my quilts, the background layer is usually made up of large pieces of fabric stitched together using machine piecing or hand appliqué. I like layering and experimenting with the effects of transparency, which is why I choose to use silk organza. I enjoy hand stitching to keep the pieces in place and to add texture. My go-to stitches include couching, running stitch, and back stitch. This process provides the evidence of the human hand.

‘These days I use digital technology as a way of working with fabric and it’s unique to my work. I use a laser cutter to create patterns and designs by cutting into fabric: it’s distinctive in the intricacy and complexity of the lines and shapes this technology can create. This process allows me to create fibre art that is lace-like and intricate while incorporating a variety of less technical stitched-art techniques that aren’t part of the digital realm.

‘I took great pleasure in creating African Burial Ground II, exploring my technique of multi-layering fabric and composing both the current-day and historic maps and imagery using fabric, paint, and thread. But not least was that I was able to convey such an important story.’

Valerie Goodwin is the author of Art Quilt Maps, Capture a Sense of Place with Fiber Collage –A Visual Guide, and for 26 years taught architectural design at Florida A&M University.

Her award-winning fibre art work has been widely published and exhibited in museums and private collections, and she lectures and gives workshops nationally and internationally.

Website: www.valeriegoodwinart.com/

Facebook: ValerieGoodwinArt

Instagram: @valeriegoodwinart

Deborah Toner

Luxurious Irish linen is famed for its softness, finesse, and natural lustre, combined with a strength that will make it last a lifetime. So what better base could there be for homeware items, intricately machine-stitched with architectural details, and performed by a Belfast-based, architect-trained textile artist?

Since 2011 Deborah has combined her love of architecture and interiors to produce a range of beautiful, embroidered gift and homeware textiles. Her ranges include the cities of Belfast, Dublin, Derry and Edinburgh and include images of buildings, maps and skylines stitched onto lampshades, cushions, footstools, picture mounts and zip pouches.

From ruins to royalty

Deborah Toner: ‘I have worked on so many different commissions embroidering churches, ruins, city halls, or even maps of the area where people got married. I also get asked to embroider lots of different houses, from quaint terrace cottages to castles and country estates. 

‘I use a Tajima multi-needle embroidery machine, which has 15 heads for embroidery. I also have a number of domestic machines for construction, which include my favourite, a Pfaff. I use Royal Rayon thread for its quality, shine and range of colours. I’ve never used anything else.

‘I believe it’s really important to buy good quality pieces that will last, so that’s what I make and it’s why I only use locally woven Irish linen.

‘I was asked to make some cushions as an official gift from Belfast city for Queen Elizabeth II when she visited in 2014 and I chose Multicoloured Belfast Skyline as the design. This led to a further contract to make work for Historic Royal Palaces at Hillsborough Castle.

Block colour

‘Multicoloured Belfast Skyline followed on from my first ever design, Outline Skyline, which was a simple outline without the coloured embroidery. I created a skyline by piecing together my drawings of iconic buildings in Belfast. Having studied a Masters in architecture, it seemed a natural step to develop that for my own city. I wanted a way to be a little freer with my work and to capture the idea of ‘painting with thread’. It was also an opportunity to experiment with lots of colour in quite a pared back way. 

‘I used my initial hand drawn outline design and machine stitched over it. I tried to balance breaking up the colours with different elements of the buildings. I also played about with my stitch direction which allows the light to catch colour differently. I wanted to keep the embroidery heavy enough to be tactile but still light enough to still be able to pick up on some small building details so as to be recognisable. This involved lots of playing and testing. 

‘This was the first piece where I really used block colour, which led to more works in the same way. I also love that each one will be different: I change the colours, the sequence and most require hand finishing so they really are individual. The only thing that remains the same is the iconic Harland and Wolff Cranes, which I always embroider in ‘cranes yellow’ thread.

‘I am working on some new Belfast designs and have been looking more closely at elements of the shipyard. It is such a rich part of our culture and heritage and I believe it’s what gives so many of the creatives based here their industrious charm.’

Deborah Toner Architectural Embroidery, offering a bespoke architectural embroidery service. She embroiders maps and cityscapes from all over the world, as well as individual houses and streetscapes for her growing customer base.

In 2021, ten years after helping her to launch her business, the Ulster Museum commissioned a second body of her work for their permanent collection.

Website: deborahtoner.co.uk

Instagram: @deborah_toner

Jake Henzler

‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’ is a phrase applied to tasks demanding both time and patience. And this was true for Sydney-based knit and crochet designer Jake Henzler as he developed his skills and grew his career. But for Jake, it wasn’t Rome but Copenhagen that he built – in cotton yarn. Once Jake had taught himself how to knit, purl and carry over many coloured wools, he designed a set of knitted building blocks for the city that he had fallen in love with. 

Known on Instagram as @boy_knits_world, Jake works mainly with yarn and needlecraft techniques and is most well known for his knitted cityscape blankets. His work aims to reduce the simple beauty of buildings to their most basic expressive patterns in knitted colourwork.

Jake Henzler: ‘It was 2017, I was living and working as a teacher in Copenhagen and I decided that I wanted to make a blanket that would commemorate my year there. I visited yarn stores around the city and was impressed by the incredible range of cotton colours at Søstrene Grene. It was there that I chose the cotton for Copenhagen Building Blocks. Their range included more sophisticated colours than the usual bright pastels – like a washed-out terracotta, olive greens and a dusty blue. 

‘I also experimented a bit with dyeing, fading and staining, which allowed me to create tone variation in the colours I had and create more appropriate colours from the brighter shades.

Structure and design

‘The regularity of shape is one of the most striking things about the apartment buildings of Copenhagen. They were built in a relatively small space of time, with long, straight streets that form grids across the city, lined with buildings that look like modest mansions. They weren’t allowed to build more than six storeys high, ensuring maximum light could reach all streets and homes. It resulted in a regularity of height across the city. The buildings are also often painted in sensible adult pastels that blend really beautifully together in a row. All of these elements spoke to my own sense of design and felt like principles I wanted to transfer to my work.

‘I developed a series of core patterns to operate as adaptable templates that describe an entire city. 

‘The principle of allowing people to reproduce and adapt elements of the pattern to describe their own experiences is central to the work’s purpose.

‘Setting some limitations, whether they’re necessary or artificial, often drives me to take interesting approaches or rethink the way I might have made something. The windows of the Copenhagen Building Blocks are a good example. When I set out designing the blocks, beginning with the tea shop with tea canisters in the window, it became clear that the detail was both an unnecessary complication and a distraction. It was hard to capture the level of detail without going very large scale. 

Testing, Testing

‘Instead, I tried to reduce the windows to the simplest form I could without losing the distinctive tall shape. The silhouetted version in dark grey ended up being the most practical, and because it’s used across every block, it also has a unifying effect on the colourful movement of the many facades.

‘The next test knit was a plain building, which worked and seemed easy enough to adapt into other designs. I’d originally wanted to knit every building that had some significance to me, but in the end I did manage to make a few special buildings, including both of the apartment blocks I lived in.

‘The bigger projects take a lot of time, particularly when you’re testing new patterns to make sure the combination of all of the parts work together. 

‘Through transposing my patterns onto the shape of a different garment they’ve been interpreted into a long coat and a pair of socks – it’s very impressive.’

Jake is a designer who is self-taught at knit and crochet, and also incorporates patchwork. He lives in Sydney, Australia and works as a secondary school teacher. He has been practising and exhibiting his knitted and crocheted work internationally since 2006.

Instagram: @boy_knits_world

Ravelry: ravelry.com/patterns/sources/boy-knits-world/patterns

Textileartist.org’s full interview with Jake: textileartist.org/jake-henzler-boy-knits-world

Gillian Bates

Gillian Bates is based in Eastbourne, East Sussex, UK where she uses her sewing machine needle as a drawing stylus to create pictures showing memories of perfect moments in coastal towns. Gillian’s work is a pure celebration of the quirkiness of British life and she has derived inspiration from local areas such as Eastbourne, Brighton and Hastings, as well as more distant places including Margate, Bournemouth, Devon, Cornwall and London.

Gillian has stitched many seaside architecture-inspired embroideries, one of which is Beside the bandstand.

The bandstand is a subject Gillian has returned to many times as many couples choose to get married there, and she has stitched it as a wedding gift or memento.

Beside the bandstand is based on a structure at Brighton and Hove’s seafront. It had re-opened in 2009 after extensive refurbishment and was one of Gillian’s earliest pieces, made just a year after she became a full time textile artist.

‘I love the angle with which I have captured the bandstand, from the lower promenade looking up at the bandstand with the backdrop of Hove’s seafront.’

Gillian’s aim is to portray, not only the architecture, but also to capture the people and the general atmosphere. This adds another layer and gives it a sense of real time, though the bandstand was pictured on a quiet day. She selected a serene colour palette to give the feeling of being at the quieter end of the seafront, away from the hectic sights and sounds of the busier pier end.

Though the structure is stitched mainly with freehand machine embroidery, Gillian likes to include hand stitching where she feels a small stitch will indicate detail or where the machine won’t suffice. 

Gillian Bates: ‘I meticulously plan out my pieces, starting with my preliminary pen sketches that I can transfer to my base fabric via a light box. Next, I choose the colour palette, selecting areas to add colour and gathering fabrics for these. I often use a pop of colour for the skies then select areas to highlight – in this case it was the bandstand itself, a sign and some bushes. That pop of colour provides a focal point for my composition and a sense of depth.’

Gillian Bates has worked as a textile artist since 2008 and has also been a visiting lecturer for textile students. She lives and works in Eastbourne, East Sussex.

Her work has been exhibited both nationally and internationally, and she has produced for design studios and commercial clients including John Lewis and The View from the Shard.

Website: gillianbates-textiles.com

Facebook: facebook.com/gillianbatestextiles

Instagram: @gillian_bates

Charles-Henry and Elin Petronella

When Charles-Henry and Elin Petronella met and fell in love in Paris, and Elin introduced Charles to embroidery, the result was a shared passion for architectural embroidery. Today their online embroidery school Charles & Elin Academy offers an array of courses and each has many thousands of followers on social media.

Their extensive travels, taking in and photographing stunning scenic views across Europe, have produced embroideries of buildings in many places. As their book title Mindful Embroidery – Stitch your way to relaxation with charming European street scenes suggests, their goal is also to encourage the joy of the art.

‘Embroidery is a process that grounds you and allows you to reconnect with yourself.’

Manarola is one of the most photographed towns of the Cinque Terre on the rugged Italian Riviera coastline. Vineyards and colourful houses, some dating back to the 1300s, cling to its steep terraces, fishing boats bob in the pretty harbour and trattorias delight in serving the most delicious seafood specialities.

So it’s no wonder that when Charles visited the idyllic town, it left a strong impression on him. After Charles and Elin moved to Montenegro in 2022 they established a studio, and with Italy being just across the Adriatic Sea they chose the Manarola vista as one of their first embroideries.

Though many of their embroideries are from their own photographs, to get the best impression they selected a resource image from a platform offering free images without any copyright infringement. Elin redrew the design free hand before transferring it to the cotton fabric and starting to stitch. 

Elin Petronella: ‘Manarola took several months to complete and, when working on larger projects such as this, we often like to get in the mood by having a documentary about the place playing in the background. When you’re creating art inspired by places in the world, it helps you to immerse yourself in the location. 

‘What I love about Manarola is the wide selection of colours and how they all harmoniously tie in together. The colours you work with can really have an impact on your mood and as I stitched this one it always brought me great joy.’

Charles and Elin Petronella have lived in Paris, Sweden and in 2022 moved to Montenegro. They have worked with brands such as Hermes in Paris and in 2020 published a book, ‘Mindful Embroidery’. The Charles and Elin Academy offers many embroidery courses and a membership programme.

Website: charlesandelin.com & charlesandelinacademy.com

Facebook: facebook.com/charlesandelin

Instagram: @petronella.art & @_charleshenry_

Textileartist.org’s full interview with Charles and Elin: textileartist.org/charles-henry-and-elin-petronella-a-marriage-made-in-thread

Elin taught Charles the art of embroidery and, as they became teachers themselves, Charles and Elin set themselves a mission. Recognising the medium’s ability to promote relaxation, put worries aside and offer inner reconnection, they set out to share their passion and skills with as wide an audience as possible.

The Charles and Elin Academy, their online school, focuses not only on the architecture that the couple have admired and stitched across several countries, but also invites students to explore embroidery on clothes, watercolour embroidery, thread-sketching and creating their own designs.

Just six years since meeting, and now married with a family, Charles and Elin are authors of the book Mindful Embroidery: Stitch your way to relaxation with charming European street scenes and each has a large social media following. Their motto, ‘everything is better when shared’ tells you that this is a business with heart.

Tactile drawings

How did you first learn to embroider Elin?

Elin Petronella: I learnt how to embroider at home when I was younger. My mother is a seamstress, so I would make my own clothes, bags and other accessories too. But, growing up, I was more drawn to painting and drawing. I also had a period of scrap-booking. It wasn’t until I encountered the freer modern embroidery that my interest for the medium returned, as I now consider my embroideries ‘tactile drawings’. 

I got my first commission before having any social media. I used to stitch every day at university in Paris. Then, one day a guy in my class asked me if I could embroider a lion on the back of his jeans jacket. I said yes if he would pay me (ha ha!), and he did. In return he requested that I start an Instagram account so that he could track the progress of the work, and that was the reason I started @petronella.art. That was in September 2016, and I honestly had no intention or interest in social media at all before that. Little did I know that it was the beginning of a transformation into a fully fledged business.

What was it like teaching Charles to embroider and how did that develop?

I taught Charles how to embroider when we met in 2016. Since the day we met we realised we both share the same passion for the arts. Charles had gone through art school in high school and had studied fine art at Beaux Arts de Paris university, whereas I had been a dedicated home artist having done various arts every day for most of my life. We met when I had just fallen back in love with embroidery and was working on my lion jeans jacket commission. As Charles saw me stitching all day and night, it sparked his interest to transfer his drawings to thread. 

Charles was really excited to start, because he felt like he was doing something very unique and special in the beginning…  until he realised just how many millions of other people also embroider! But if you’ve never encountered it before, you have no idea how big it actually is. The fact that he didn’t know anything about embroidery, prior to learning with me, allowed him to have an open mind with regards to how you can actually use the stitches, and that made it very fun. But it was the actual process of stitching, and how it helped him to deal with the anxiety that he was experiencing at that time, that really got him hooked and passionate about spreading the word about the medium.

Charles wanted others to also experience the feeling of soothing calm and joyful creativity while stitching.

Embroidering Paris together

Can you tell us how you came to be so interested in architecture?

It was Charles who first encouraged me to embroider my architectural sketches of Paris, which are the embroideries that went viral back in early 2017. So even though I taught him the basics in embroidery techniques, Charles brought a new eye to how we could develop our styles and take modern hand embroidery to another level by creating ‘tactile drawings’. 

Neither of us had studied architecture at university: it really came from the heart. Growing up in Paris, Charles always had an eye for beautiful buildings and loved to stroll through the city admiring them at all hours of the day (we spent countless hours just walking around). 

My passion stems from my interest in history. When I moved to Paris it was as if each building spoke to me and I couldn’t help but imagine what all these walls had seen and heard. Naturally, there were also the graphical and beautiful elements that inspired me to turn them into sketches. 

As we started to travel, we enjoyed getting to know places culturally, historically and socially. Architecture tells you so much about a place. Having decided to specialise in architectural embroidery, it made sense to combine it with travel as part of our everyday life. 

What is it that you love most about modern hand embroidery?

Hand embroidery is inherently relaxing: you can feel the fibres in your hands and watch your artwork grow as you stitch.

In our stressed societies today it’s easy to become disconnected. Embroidery is a process that grounds you and allows you to reconnect with yourself. And when you meet and embroider with friends you can chat and create at the same time, triggering happiness hormones on all counts!

We enjoy the satisfaction of creating something and, unlike cross-stitch for example, with modern embroidery you don’t have to count. It’s all visually based, which allows you to be more relaxed in your movements and not to worry about making ‘mistakes’ – because there are no mistakes! 

We consider our fellow creatives and students as companions rather than competitors. In the arts it’s easy for many to feel protective or secretive over their techniques, but we decided early on that we value the shared moments more, as the learning always works both ways. 

Can you tell us about your process from conception to completion?

The creative process can look different for each piece depending on when and where it is. If we have the opportunity to sketch a street scene or building in situ, then that is always our preference for the sake of the creative experience. But, in general, most work originates from a photograph. We always have our phones to take pictures whenever we are out, regardless of whether it’s in the neighbourhood at home or on a trip – you never know when inspiration will strike. 

We then interpret the photograph as a sketch. The sketching process always takes place: it’s just a matter of whether it’s from a photo or live. The actual stitching is the same as with the sketching – if we can do it outdoors, that’s always fantastic. 

The benefit with embroidery is its portability, so we often bring it with us (if it’s a smaller piece) to work a little outside and a little inside. We do have a dedicated studio now, but the embroidery still tends to be made all over the house!

We generally stitch on cotton canvas, especially for all the architectural scenes, and we’ve got a big stash of DMC cotton floss, which has become our main floss. I could talk about choosing colours for ages, but, in general, we like to use a base colour (often black, grey or brown) for the main structures of the architectural scenes and then either a highlight (eg a bright red door), and/or some greenery. For the greenery it’s nice to use at least two different shades, preferably three to add more life and depth.

Everything’s better when shared

Tell us a bit more about your embroidery courses

It all started in 2017 when we got requests from followers on Instagram to share how we made our architectural designs. As I had done many years of teaching in sports, and always loved it, it came naturally to me to start offering workshops. Living in Paris at the time, there were always people coming through and, at one point, we hosted workshops almost every weekend. 

As our influence and work continued to expand, we got increasing requests from people who weren’t able to make it to Paris to join our live workshops. That’s when we decided to film them and make them available for everyone, regardless of geographical location. Referring back to our company statements of ‘everything is better when shared’, we truly believe that sharing what you know connects you with people. 

We were offered the chance to work with various video platforms quite early on, but we decided to cut out the middleman. We felt that following predetermined scripts from other platforms would block our creativity and limit our ways of connecting with people. 

Since the beginning, we have worked hard to make authentic and intimate courses where we invite the students to be a close part of the project. We film a lot of closeups and go in-depth on all the little details, focusing on both the how AND the why behind the artistic embroidery decisions. That way the people who go through our classes feel empowered that they can do it themselves in future projects.

Most of our classes include a project that we work on as a practical exercise, as we believe in ‘learning by doing’. It allows those who feel that it looks very advanced to see that they can actually achieve something really beautiful, regardless of their previous experience, and hang up the finished embroidery on their wall as proof of their efforts. 

Creating the Charles and Elin Academy, and keeping it an authentic experience directly between us and fellow creatives, was the best decision we ever made. It has brought us so much closer to our students and many return for each new course we put on. 

Our wish is to make it possible for more people to join the movement of modern hand embroidery and to experience the creative stimulation and relaxation that it brings.

New country, new projects

What are your plans for the future?

The last couple of years have brought about a lot of reflection and we felt a growing urge to explore once again. We had spent three years in Sweden and became first-time parents in 2020. So in March 2022 we relocated to Montenegro. As creatives and explorers at heart we didn’t want to limit our vision for our family and work and so we made the jump! We chose Montenegro for its stunning beauty and inviting culture, which we think will provide lots of inspiration for upcoming projects – plus it’s close to incredible places in Europe where we can expand our horizons. 

With regard to our embroideries, Charles is finding it creatively stimulating to experiment with tulle embroidery at the moment and has done many different styles. And I love to embroider on my clothes whatever comes to heart.