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

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

Shadow box & floating mount

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bobbin & scroll

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoop in a shadow box 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hanging hoop 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleeve & slat 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrapped canvas

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

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

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

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

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

Pat Baum Bishop, wrapping a canvas

Attached wire hanger

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fabric book with pages

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

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

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

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

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

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

Concertina book

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

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

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

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

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

Stretch-mounted & framed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Double-sided tape float 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tell us a bit about your art practice…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From trash to treasure

Tell us about your design process…

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

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

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

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

Jessica Grady, Textile artist

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

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

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

Collections transformed

What initially attracted you to textiles as a medium?

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

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

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

What were your early influences?

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

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

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

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

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

What was your route to becoming an artist?

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

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

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

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

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

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

What currently inspires you?

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

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

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

Zero-waste art

Tell us about an artwork that holds fond memories…

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

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

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

How has your work developed and evolved?

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

My sense of colour has also changed and grown stronger.

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

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

Vintage tulle veils and laces feature strongly in Vinny’s art, perfectly expressing the transience of time and remembrance. Screen printing, digital imagery and other mixed media elements add dimension and texture. 

Vinny also has a passion for the impermanence of nature, especially the coastline plants on her beloved Mersea Island. She places the focus on intertidal flora, including sea holly, purslane, and shrubby and annual sea-blite – plants that take centre stage in the struggle to protect fragile beaches from erosion. 

Enjoy this look into Vinny’s dreamlike work. It gently reminds us that time waits for no one.

“Cloth, that old silent companion of the human race, has always kept special company with artists.”

Mildred Constantine & Laurel Reuter, Whole Cloth

Sheer emotions

Vinny Stapley: I mostly work with transparent or sheer fabrics. The familiar feel of the finest silk tulle veiling and antique lace reminds me of working for a wedding dress designer when I first came to London.

I also find that fabrics received from family become memory banks of my personal history. And found items of textiles and clothing make me wonder about the origins and lives of those who first had them. What stories do they tell me?

I especially enjoy using these vintage finds or making delicately constructed web-like veils. I’ll use a combination of layers of different processes and will sometimes add old photographs or text to develop the narrative of a piece.

Silk, cotton organdie and tulles are my go-to fabrics. For my seascapes, I have also used calico, linen and canvas. 

Veils are especially fascinating to me, as they can express a variety of contradictory concepts such as youthful innocence, alluring beauty and fading or blemished beauty.

Sheer fabrics can be very tricky to work with, so sometimes I’ll add a dissolvable embroidery stabiliser. Otherwise, it’s a matter of confidence. After years of working with delicate materials, I’ve learned how to use a firm, yet gentle hand, smoothing and stretching as I go.

“Veils can be intriguing, secretive, feminine, mournful, hopeful and respectful.”

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Memento Mori

I’m fascinated by the concept of memento mori, a Latin phrase that reminds us about death’s inevitability and the fleeting nature of earthly pleasures. To that end, fragility and delicacy play key roles in my work. I especially admire the brittle beauty of age-distressed vintage laces and delicate tulles. 

I remember watching Great Expectations as a young girl and being intrigued by Miss Havisham’s faded beauty and grandeur. I began to see a correlation between those fabrics, the fragility of memory, and human nature. 

I’m also intrigued by perceptions of women’s fragility and the vulnerable and darker sides of femininity. For example, my installation Arachne’s Metaphor was inspired by the Greek myth of Arachne who was turned into a spider and doomed to weave for eternity by the jealous goddess Athena.

This research led to my investigations of the extraordinary stories of ordinary women and the threads of life that connect them. I collected stories of female relatives who struggled to survive and further their families in the face of what society, governments and the patriarchy expected of and imposed upon them. 

Those ordinary women metamorphosed into stronger beings who survived by their wits and talents, weaving their own webs and creating foundations for their lives. 

Family secrets

In addition to notions of fragility, much of my work explores the link between family history and the legacy it can have on the living.   

We not only acquire physical attributes, talents and skills from our ancestors, but we also inherit our family’s tragedies, heartbreaks and hardships. Those events can leave their own genetic imprint on our personality.

I explore the impact that family secrets can have on subsequent generations. I’m both horrified and fascinated by the way previous generations have behaved. The perceived shame brought upon the family, according to social customs at the time, caused people to bury truths and treat their loved ones most cruelly, in the name of respectability. 

To represent the burying of family secrets and their shame, I layer delicate materials (often family fabrics or lace) and incorporate faded imagery and mixed media. The various textures become distressed and more fragile, representing how our memories become harder to read and more difficult to recall over time.

“Subsequent generations can find themselves shocked by the discovery of these secrets and their effect on family dynamics.” 

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Creative sampling

Inspiration can be varied. Sometimes I’ll have a bit of a vision and work backwards from there. Other times I start with a topic or theme for an exhibition, and then research and write down concepts and ideas. Mind mapping helps, and observational drawing is an essential part of my practice. 

Once I have a topic in mind, I’ll widely research that idea and document what I discover as a visual language in my sketchbooks. I then gather or dye up all the fabrics, threads and components I think I’ll use. 

I create samples by screen printing, machine stitch and hand embroidery. I’m also increasingly using Photoshop to develop imagery and design visualisations. Responding to these samples, I’ll sketch out some compositional studies and then go on to develop slightly larger prototypes before making the final piece.

“I explore and interrogate materials, techniques and concepts through sampling.”

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Tulle memory discs

In my Stitch Club workshop, I teach some of my techniques so that members create an atmospheric and personal embroidered memory disc on tulle. 

Choosing a special moment in time, memory, person or place, they can incorporate delicate distressed fabrics and memento mori such as old family photos, paper, fabrics and embroidered motifs that connect to their theme. Stitching is also used as embellishment. 

Importance of a colour palette

Creating a colour palette is fundamental to everything. It sets the mood, feel and emotion which helps link to the concept behind the piece.

At the moment, my favourite colour palette is very desaturated and chalk-coloured. It’s mostly naturals and neutrals, to present a vintage feel and help describe the passage of time, women’s stories and femininity.

My advice for learning how to choose a colour palette is to find a painting or a page from a garden or fashion magazine that you think expresses a certain feeling or particular mood. Then get a paint chart from a DIY store and pick out six colours from that image: one deep, two mid, two light, as well as one colour that will pop.

You can then create a mood board using fabrics, threads and paint, mixed and matched to the shades you selected. You might also incorporate found materials. 

“I always like to throw in a colour pop – it can be minimal but it performs the important task of creating balance.”

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Mindful stitching

Stitch is such an emotive medium. It can echo the rhythmic nature of the sea’s ebb and flow or mimic a range of emotions. Stitching is a meditative, immersive and mindful process where ideas evolve as the work progresses. 

Machine embroidery is my go-to passion. I love the contrast of edginess and the linear fluidity of the stitched line. 

I can easily become lost and mesmerised as my body connects to the machine. There’s a kind of ‘syncretism’ (an attempted reconciliation or union of) different or opposing principles. 

When it comes to hand stitching, I prefer the authenticity of using simple stitches, such as the running and seed stitch. I’m also very partial to traditional tailors’ tacking stitches, and I really love a French knot.  

I mainly use vintage threads for hand stitching. 

“My screen printed fabrics serve as a great stimulus to get my creative juices flowing.”

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Blue Peter & Bunsen burners

Vinny Stapley: I’ve always sewn and used fabrics to make things from a very young age. We had plenty of fabric and dressing-up clothes around our house, as my mother made and knitted nearly everything we wore. There was very little available to buy, growing up in the Highlands.

I also adored the BBC children’s TV show Blue Peter, especially the ‘makes’, and was always trying to copy them. But I had to use what we had to hand, which made me experiment and invent (not always successfully). 

I was lucky to have inspiring art teachers in high school. They viewed textiles as a fine art medium. One teacher saw that I naturally gravitated to textiles. She encouraged me to experiment with a range of embroidery stitches to create final exam pieces. And she taught me how to create natural dyes in the art department’s stock cupboard using a Bunsen burner! 

Another wonderful teacher taught me to screen print, and I was immediately hooked. I loved the process and how I could achieve a range of very different outcomes.

Music & fashion

I took up a place at Edinburgh School of Art after leaving high school, but I decided to leave and move to London. I joined various bands, and after gaining practical experience working in a small, bespoke wedding dress design studio, I had the opportunity to become a wardrobe technician for touring bands.

Later, I became a production assistant for touring recording artists. I travelled extensively and gained lots of experience working with a whole range of different materials, from studded leather to beaded Bob Mackie gowns.

I stopped travelling when my family came along and I began making bespoke special occasion wear and costumes.

“I had a sense of unfinished business and missed art, so I started taking some art courses.”

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

Creativity & life balance

While attending some art courses, tutors encouraged me to complete an Art Foundation. Following this, I gained a place in the Printed Textiles degree course at Middlesex University (London, UK), continuing to combine my screen printing with embroidery.

After my degree, a large London studio offered me a job as a textile designer specialising in embroidery. Following this, I went on to work freelance for a textile agent.

I loved the creativity, but as a parent, I found it hard to create a successful work-life balance. I decided to complete a teacher-training degree and went on to teach art in large London comprehensive schools.

It wasn’t until the children left home, and my husband and I moved to Mersea Island in Essex, that I decided to take the plunge and develop my career as an artist. I started with open studios, public and private commissions, and artist residencies in schools. I eventually built up to having a larger studio and offering workshops.

Print inspiration

I love direct screen printing techniques, where you place the pigments directly on the screen. It’s like painting, and I use these printed pieces as a base for adding further layers of appliqué, as well as machine and hand embroidery. I may also add photo stencil printing in layers.

Wax resist is also a technique that lends itself well to working with textiles. I’ll maybe start with some drawing with a candle or oil pastel and then add dyes or inks. Sometimes I let layers of paint or gesso dry before adding drawing inks or fabric dyes.

I also work with charcoal or graphite or even a fine line pen, before adding inks, dyes or watercolours.

Mersea Florilegium

I created Mersea Florilegium in response to my concern about Mersea Island’s eroding coastlines. I see daily evidence of rising sea levels that wash away whole chunks of coastline. My work highlights the importance of the plants within the intertidal zone, such as sea purslane and shrubby sea-blite, that help mesh the delicate coastline. 

This collection started by studying the flora on the shores of Mersea Island during the various lockdowns. I made observational drawings and learned about the ecology of the salt marsh. I charted all the locations of sea holly on the island. A year later, I discovered that many had disappeared.

I also made sketches exploring the fine root networks of the plants. These help to stabilise the fragile coastline against the incursions of the sea.

“My research inspired an installation featuring a collection of semi-transparent hanging disks focusing on plants I observed on my lockdown walks.” 

Vinny Stapley, Textile artist

In this installation, the ethereal, lens-like discs move kinetically, reflecting my thoughts and occasionally zooming in on abstracted moments in time. It’s meant to be a celebration of the visual, cerebral and the cellular. 

I focused on purslane and sea holly and developed delicate web-like hanging gossamer veils. I became aware of the commonality between the plant roots and the digital connections forged among family and friends that sustain us through times of separation. 

Within the layers, I incorporated strips of binary code symbolising these connections, and I embroidered words representing the locations of the sea holly plants on the island. 

Intertidal ecosystems

In keeping with my fascination with memento mori, Sea Holly Memento Mori II features the sea holly plant that lines our coastline and collected fragments of lace; forgotten pieces of women’s painstaking handiwork found in my collection. They symbolise the fragility of life and ecology.

The sea holly’s ability to thrive amidst coastal erosion and human intervention is powerful. Historically it was harvested for its sweet root, an important commodity in the time of James I. 

Machine-embroidered layers of mixed media webs with fragments of old lace symbolise the delicately balanced ecosystem of flora in the intertidal zone.

Mythical stitching

Arachne’s Metaphor and the Dark Island hanging are part of a single installation that was initially inspired by the Greek myth about Athena and Arachne. The jealous goddess Athena turns Arachne into a spider who is doomed to weave for eternity. 

That myth led me to consider stories of ordinary women, including my mother, who struggled to survive and nurture their families in the wake of patriarchal systems imposed upon them.

After posting about my mother’s story on Instagram, I received similar stories from family and friends, which inspired a series of filigree lace-framed icon pictures commemorating the women. 

The imagery connects to the women’s sometimes painful stories through the use of desaturated, delicate sheer layers and hangings. The icons also incorporate archive photography, vintage textiles, and stitch techniques relating to the women’s stories, such as sashiko and carrickmacross. 

The framed icon pictures are connected by delicate webs that stretch out and connect the women’s lives across time and space. Fragments of old clothes and household linens symbolise the strands of their lives, interwoven with silk fibres and printed extracts of their stories. 

Tina is a visual and textile artist who thinks about the entanglements of materiality, ecological structures and the memories of places and things.

She creates three-dimensional, tactile sculptures using a wide range of textiles, thread and stitch. And she loves to incorporate found objects from thrift stores and markets to add extra texture and intrigue to her assemblages.

Tina’s work is about capturing the passage of time through texture – a blend of metamorphosis and sensuality, resulting in new forms inspired by the living, mineral and alchemical realms.

Take a look and see what you discover in the twists, folds and contortions of her cloth.

Tactile relationships

What is your artistic approach? Can you summarise what inspires you?

Tina Marais: The central focus of my practice is creating visual and textile art that emphasises the tactile relationship between materials. My work intertwines memories and experiences, capturing the passage of time through texture.

I gather and transform fabrics, objects and natural elements to delve into themes of history, life and transformation. My practice blends physical craftsmanship with sensuality, resulting in new forms inspired by the living, mineral and alchemical realms.

I’m particularly intrigued by folds – whether in philosophy, time, skin, or material – and how they can both conceal and reveal, protect and illuminate. Recently, I’ve been exploring innovative material approaches that investigate the entanglements between organic and inorganic elements, as well as human and non-human systems.

Through my art, I critique patterns of consumption and explore themes such as isolation and metamorphosis, while also highlighting the connections between people and ecosystems.

Material reflections

What made you decide to work with sculptural textiles?

My early experience as a costume designer deeply influenced my preference for dimensional structures in my work. From a young age, I was captivated by contemporary sculpture, particularly large-scale pieces.

This dimensionality resonates with the natural world, which is inherently layered and complex. The earth itself is built of layers, and everything around us consists of dimensional cellular structures. Even human nature and abstract systems are complex structures.

These reflections have transformed my approach to creating, making physicality and dimensionality central to my process.

“I find that work truly comes alive – charged with emotion and content – when it occupies space in three dimensions.“

Tina Marais, Textile artist

I always begin with a concept or message in my work, which guides my choice of materials. For instance, cotton is not only connected to water usage in its production but also to its journey from plant fibres to thread, fabric and beyond – often travelling across the globe multiple times.

Historically, cotton is also linked to the legacy of the slave trade. In contrast, I’ve recently worked extensively with linen, a material with a rich history dating back to ancient Egypt. Linen’s more eco-friendly production and natural antibacterial properties resonate with themes of healing for me.

Understanding the ‘voice’ of materials and their histories informs my choices and enhances my creative process.

Organic seedlings

Tell us a little about the artwork you created for your Stitch Club workshop…

Yes, I’m excited that I was invited to present a workshop to Stitch Club members. In my workshop, I guide participants through the process of creating dimensional soft sculptures using textiles, thread and basic embroidery stitches. The sculptures, entitled Organic Seedlings, are inspired by the intricate details of seeds, grains and flower stems.

I have a deep passion for crafting these structures using a diverse range of materials, from precious silks and leathers to wool threads, rope and embroidery floss. I always incorporate beadwork and found objects to enhance the dimensionality and detail of the sculptures.

Being a somewhat ruthless collector, I love going on archaeological ‘digs’ in thrift stores and markets, or in my own studio’s inventory, often including unlikely materials to complete my assemblages.

Additionally, I demonstrate a basic technique for drafting patterns in an organic manner, which will help participants understand the potential for creating dimensional textile structures.

Organic & interactive

Can you tell us a little about your making process and techniques?

I begin each project with a core concept – whether it’s an idea, a question, or a message – and then immerse myself in research and sketching, often producing numerous sketches. I use line drawings to explore and clarify my vision, particularly how I want the piece to interact with positive and negative space.

Once I have a clear direction, I gather materials, carefully considering their origins and how their unique histories will contribute to my concept.

“The making process itself is often akin to a physical dance.”

Tina Marais, Textile artist

Making involves a dialogue with the materials, responding to what they allow and coaxing them into alignment with my intentions. This process is highly organic and interactive.

When working on pieces with repetitive elements, I frequently find myself thinking about future projects, leading to overlapping ideas and themes in my studio.

I enjoy delving deeply into bodies of work, exploring a particular theme or research angle over several years before transitioning to new explorations.

Essential tools

What are your must-have tools or supplies when you’re creating and where do you source them?

I look for good scissors and good thread – and needles that don’t break under stress. When selecting scissors, I prioritise how they feel in my hand rather than the brand or model. I consider factors like the length of the blades and how smoothly they cut through fabric.

My all-time favourite was a pair of super sharp tailor scissors I purchased in Portugal. Unfortunately, they ended up in the trash at the airport security after teaching a course in Poland. At the moment I’m using Fiskars professional scissors.

For heavy-duty tasks, I rely on a robust sewing machine, the Singer heavy duty denim 6335M. I’ve had Bernina machines in the past and absolutely love them, but have ‘killed’ a few sewing machines over the years.

As I don’t do machine embroidery, I prefer sewing machines that can handle various thicknesses and that are mechanical instead of digitally controlled. The Singer gives me a good alternative to an industrial sewing machine and is heavy enough not to ‘bounce’ when I’m really getting into sewing.

For machine sewing I always use SCHMETZ needles: I prefer universal needles, but change depending on what I’m sewing. For hand stitching, I go for larger and longer needles, upholstery or doll needles, and I source my needles from Loops & Threads (from Michaels stores, USA and Canada).

When it comes to thread, I prefer Gütermann because its high quality significantly improves the results and saves time.

I’ve adapted to using thicker needles and threads due to some medical treatments that have affected my fingertips. Instead of fighting this, I’ve adjusted my tools to suit my needs.

My suppliers vary depending on my location, as I move around frequently. In Montreal, for example, there’s Ugarit La Maison de l’Artisanat – a fantastic hidden store for bulk beads. I visit haberdashery stores, art supply shops and hardware stores, always on the lookout for objects that can be reinvented or repurposed.

I also enjoy working with found objects and vintage fabrics, often sourcing materials from second-hand stores (known as ‘fripperies’ in France and Quebec), street markets and even during long walks where I collect seeds and pebbles.

Tempted by tactility

How did you develop your artistic skills?

My passion for the arts, fibres and materials began at a very young age. I was born in 1977 and raised around Cape Town, South Africa. The diverse landscapes and cultures there profoundly shaped my connection to the natural environment and my artistic vision.

I studied fine arts and visual communication at the Open Window Art Institute near Johannesburg in South Africa, focusing on painting, sculpture, drawing and printmaking.

During this time I also took courses in pattern making. Initially, I didn’t view my textile work as part of my fine arts practice, but I eventually transitioned into costume making and design for theatre and dance.

In 2008, I migrated to Canada. By 2011 I’d settled in the Montreal region of Quebec. This significant transition expanded my arts practice and artistic perspective, allowing me to create over 80 community-based, social outreach, cultural mediation and public art projects over a decade.

During this time I shifted my focus to textile and fibre arts, which greatly broadened my scope for conceptual exploration, scale and installation. The fluidity and tactile nature of textiles felt like a natural extension of my artistic ideas.

In 2022, this led me to pursue a master’s degree in Fibres and Material Practices at Concordia University in Montreal, where I focused on critical thinking and research creation in art making.

“I believe that developing artistic skills comes from persistent practice and a curiosity to make the impossible possible.”

Tina Marais, Textile artist

Collaborative enrichment

I’ve been fortunate to have an incredible network of friends and an artistic community to exchange ideas with. Having extraordinary women, friends and artists around helped to shape my journey.

While solitary studio time is essential, collaborating with others and engaging in community discussions greatly enriches my work.

My parents, in their own distinct ways, provided me with access to a wide range of cultural activities, including music and art, which were integral to my upbringing. My son, Garrett Struthers, has been a constant source of inspiration, support and valuable critique throughout my studio practice.

My partner, Marc Villarubias, offers unique challenges to my artistic ideas and critical approach, especially in aligning ecological issues with cultural understanding. His support has been invaluable in grounding abstract concepts into concrete research and creative thinking.

I previously had a large studio space in downtown Montreal but have since transitioned to a home studio. I prefer working unconventional hours, often late at night and find that the intimacy of a home studio better suits my creative process.

Being immersed in a more personal space allows me to fully engage with my work. When travelling, I usually have some hand sewing or simple preparation of multiple elements with me; it becomes a mutative process while in transit.

Water & cloth

Which piece of your textile art is your favourite, and why?

It’s very hard to just highlight one work. Often I am my own worst critic, and every artwork lays the foundation for the next piece. There’s a constant push and pull between connection and realisation, technique and material.

As an artist, I think we’re in a constant pursuit of excellence that’s unachievable, and this is the place where the magic happens.

The artwork Untamed, which I created for a solo exhibition in 2017, still really stands out for me. It’s a large-scale artwork created in recycled denim, the first work that went on to become the flux de l’or bleu series. It’s an artwork with layered denim, machine and hand stitched, and detailed with silk embroidery thread.

“The work Untamed reflects on the fragility of water and the impact of the cotton denim industry on water supplies.”

Tina Marais, Textile artist

I’m visualising water as a wounded body bearing the weight of consumerist culture, slowly suffocated, drained by pollution and chemically damaged by micro-fibres and plastics.

The character of water is not a single thing but has multiple manifestations. I’m fascinated by the physicality of water: its weight, the fluidity of water as a structure, the force of a wave as it’s propelled to the shore or broken against rocks.

I’m thinking of water as fluid bodies, holding stories in its depths. Water is a life force, containing millions of microorganisms, a breathing, living entity that’s in a constant state of change.

I’m curious about how to depict this entangled state of water with fibre and all its pathways.

I often reflect on the cloth of the garments that we wear, metaphorically unravelling it back to threads and fibres. I imagine the fragmented traces of the production process of textile, imprinted in its transformative story.

I’m reflecting on the relationship between water and the effects of cloth production on ecosystems and structural systems. I’m exploring how these relationships weave together in trajectories across bodies of water and the constant intercontinental flow of materials used to fabricate suitable second skins for our bodies.

Pistachios & tea bags

Another series of works that were particularly challenging in concept structure and material choices was the body of work created for my thesis exhibition at Concordia University titled Unfold, My Skin, in 2022. These works included Unfolding, Le Petit Mort, Picalaire II, Unfold Me, Undercurrents and Bounded Traces V and Bounded Traces VI.

They were created using a variety of carefully selected materials, combining ceramic, wood, reclaimed linen, embroidery and – even for some works – collected pistachio shells and tea bags. It spoke of new materialism, the body, and the pathways of material connection and accumulation.

I enjoyed the challenge of the combination of research, conception and installation. The individual pieces that made up this series were either sold to private collectors or have travelled for other exhibitions in Canada, France, China, Belgium, Lithuania and Australia. I was so thrilled that one work was included in the Fiber Art Now Excellence in Fibres exhibition.

Textures & objects

How has your work developed over time?

Over time, my work has evolved significantly, driven by my ongoing exploration and deeper understanding of textile art.

Initially, I focused on traditional textiles, but I soon began experimenting with vintage fabrics, found objects and unconventional materials. This experimentation has allowed me to develop unique textures and forms in my art.

One of the hallmarks of my practice has been the integration of found objects. By incorporating items like seeds, pebbles and other non-traditional materials, I add layers of meaning and texture to my pieces. This approach reflects my deepening engagement with the materiality and context of my work.

As my practice has matured, I’ve placed greater emphasis on the tactile and sensory aspects of textile art. My pieces now explore the physical and emotional responses elicited through touch and texture, which has led to a more nuanced understanding of how viewers interact with my work.

And what direction do you think your work will take in the future?

Looking ahead, I see several exciting directions for my art. I’m committed to exploring and incorporating more eco-friendly and ethically sourced materials, which could involve further innovation with recycled and upcycled textiles.

I’m interested in merging textile art with other mediums or art forms. Collaborations with digital artists, architects or designers could lead to new and exciting hybrid works that push the boundaries of textile art.

I may expand my work into larger-scale installations or public art projects, which would allow me to engage with broader audiences and explore new dimensions of my art.

Integrating technology with traditional textile practices is another area I’m excited about. Experimenting with digital embroidery, smart textiles or other innovative approaches could blend the tactile nature of textiles with technological advancements.

And finally, I plan to continue exploring storytelling through textiles, finding new ways to convey complex themes and personal histories through my art.

“My goal is to keep evolving and deepening my engagement with materials, techniques and concepts.”

Tina Marais, Textile artist

Experiment freely

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist – and in particular if they wanted to use your kind of materials and techniques?

If you’re interested in working with materials and techniques similar to mine, my advice would be to embrace experimentation and allow yourself the freedom to explore. The essence of textile art lies in its tactile nature, so don’t be afraid to play with textures, colours and forms.

One crucial piece of advice is to develop a deep understanding of the materials you work with.

Whether you’re using vintage fabrics, found objects or traditional textiles, get to know their properties and how they interact with different techniques. This will give you greater control and inspire innovative approaches. For instance, I often use materials in unconventional ways, which requires a thorough knowledge of their strengths and limitations.

Another important aspect is to build a diverse toolkit. Invest in quality tools that feel right in your hand and adapt them to suit your needs, just as I do with my selection of scissors, needles and threads. Your tools can significantly impact your creative process and final outcome, so find out what works best for you.

Networking and building relationships with other artists and suppliers can also be incredibly beneficial. I’ve found that engaging with a community of artists and visiting unique sources, like second-hand stores or street markets, has been invaluable in discovering new materials and inspirations.

Sharing experiences and resources, as well as collaborating with others, can provide new perspectives and opportunities.

Finally, be patient and persistent. Artistic growth comes from consistent practice and learning from both successes and failures. Celebrate your progress and stay curious about the world around you, as inspiration often comes from the most unexpected places.

These elements have greatly helped me move forward in my work, enabling me to refine my techniques and expand my creative boundaries. By staying engaged with your materials, your community and your own evolving process, you’ll be well on your way to creating meaningful and impactful textile art.

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

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

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

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

Reconnecting with history

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Grenadian tastes & smells

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

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

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

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

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

Female flare

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

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

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

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

Overcoming uncertainty

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

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

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

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

Research & intuition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Always inquisitive

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

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

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

Velvet, embroidery & herbs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Sacred & scientific

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Layers of meaning

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

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

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

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

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

Life and learning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Efficient workspaces

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shervone Neckles, Textile artist

Rosie James is a confident tidiness rule breaker, especially when it comes to hanging threads. And the end results give even the greatest stickler pause.

Rosie’s long hanging threads add meaning and texture that couldn’t be achieved otherwise. They clearly suggest movement in her scenes of daily living, especially in the hustle and bustle of crowds, which is a favourite subject of hers.

Rosie also uses screen printing and appliqué to create a sense of depth and reflection. And she loves exploring non-traditional materials like reflective fabrics and neon threads.

We’re thrilled to invite you into Rosie’s large-scale world. Neatness takes a back seat to some remarkable character development. 

You may decide to set your scissors aside after seeing her work.

Fashion dabbling

Rosie James: One of my first memories of being exposed to textiles was my mum sewing on her treadle sewing machine. It was quite noisy! She made so many cushion covers and curtains for the house in fabulous 60s colours and prints. I can still picture them.

I was taught sewing at school, and I remember making an apron and a nightie. I wasn’t particularly good at it, though. Later, around age 17, my friend and I dabbled a bit in making our own clothes, which was fun.

When I left school, I studied to be a radiographer and worked all over the world for about 10 years. But all that time I was thinking about doing something else!

Eventually, I took a part-time course in fabric dyeing and printing, and I loved it. So, I decided to pursue a Bachelor of Arts degree in textiles at the Surrey Institute of Art and Design in Farnham. My programme was led by fabric printing design, particularly screen printing. 

I then completed a Master of Arts at Goldsmiths in London, which was more art focused. This led to my becoming much more experimental and working on a large scale.

Free motion freedom

I started teaching fashion and textiles at a further education college in Kent (UK) after completing my master’s degree. That’s when I discovered all the possibilities for using a sewing machine to draw, especially when using photographs I could trace. I could also create photo collages to stitch, putting together all sorts of crazy surreal images.

“A whole new world opened up when I realised if I could photograph something, I could stitch it, too – and in any size!”

Rosie James, Textile artist

As I was learning free motion embroidery, I recreated a drawing by the German painter and printmaker Albrecht Dürer, one of the Renaissance masters, to compare the different kinds of lines I could make with the sewing machine. I especially loved the way the thread gave the lines a fuzzy and slightly hairy quality. 

When drawing with a pencil, you can easily change the thickness of a line just by pressing harder. But with a sewing machine, it’s more difficult because you have to change to a thicker thread, which is a bit more work. 

The sewing machine also likes to keep going in a continuous line, and it can get frustrating if you have to keep stopping and starting. Using the sewing machine is much less intuitive than drawing by hand because the machine is always in the way.

I first tried learning free motion stitching from a library book. I followed the instructions, but I couldn’t do it. The fabric kept getting sucked into the machine. So, I took a short course and eventually achieved success.

I also learned that some machines are better than others. The college had old Bernina sewing machines, so when I saw a similar secondhand one in the window of a local sewing machine shop, I bought it and off I went!

Today I use a newer version of that original Bernina machine. It’s basic and doesn’t do a load of fancy stitches. I also have an old green Bernina and a couple of Janome machines people have given me, all of which I use at some point. But I prefer the Bernina for free motion embroidery.

Public faces, public spaces

I love stitching pictures of people out and about. I prefer stitching complete strangers, as then I don’t have to worry about whether my work fully looks like them. I can also change things if I like.

I especially like figures that have interesting details, such as their clothing, what they’re carrying, or unique hairstyles, perhaps.

“I like people that have a lot of stuff going on, as the details are the things that reveal something about each individual within the crowd.”

Rosie James, Textile artist

Crowds are also intriguing. I take lots of photos of crowds and then I’ll pull people out of the crowd images to create a new group. I usually look for figures that are visible from head to toe. 

I especially love crowded places where people travel. Train stations, airports, motorway service stations and the like always have different types of people from many different backgrounds brought together in a single space. 

Kyoto station is a particular favourite. I’ve only been there once, but I was struck by the movement of large numbers of people all criss-crossing each other. They all seemed to know where they were going and never bumped into each other. 

Paris Gare Du Nord station is another great spot for crowds. It’s amazing to see everyone accessing all the different underground lines. 

It’s also interesting to interpret industrial, built-up areas using soft domestic textiles and threads. The juxtaposition presents the complete opposite of the subject matter.

Creative process

I normally have an idea in my head and then just make it. If it starts going wrong, I just adapt along the way. That’s why the end result may not be what I originally imagined, but it might be even better. 

After I choose a photograph, I print it in the size I want. I then fiddle with it by drawing over it, tracing it, deleting bits or adding bits, until I think it will work. I use Photoshop and set the size file to whatever I need. 

I can create a life-sized image in Photoshop, but to print it out, I usually divide the image into lots of A4 sections that I print at home and then tape together. I recently printed a piece that was about six metres long, on which each figure was about three metres high. 

I then add fabrics, some of which I may screen print. I use textile printing inks for screen printing, and I usually do the printing first and leave space for stitching if needed. I use Vliesofix Bondaweb (an iron-on paper backed adhesive) to apply the fabrics to the background. 

I also love using photo transfer paper for fabric. I can print an image using an inkjet printer and then iron it onto fabric or use a heat press. It’s a great way to add little photographic elements to a work. 

I work in a large wooden shed that I love dearly. One half is devoted to printing and the other for sewing. I like to listen to the radio or play music, but I don’t have a set routine. It mostly depends on what I’m working on at any one time.

“It’s not unusual for me to sometimes abandon a work at some stage if it’s not right.

I throw it onto a pile to be rediscovered later!”

Rosie James, Textile artist

Hanging by a thread

Hanging threads has become somewhat of a signature in my textile art. I remember the first time I used the technique. I had originally intended to cut off all the threads, but I liked how they looked, so I left them in place. I did cut them all off once, but I felt the resulting work was flat and lifeless.

In earlier works, the threads were gushing out of the figures’ eyes! 

I also think that if I cut all the threads, the work just looks like an ink drawing created with a pen. The threads make it clear the piece is stitched. They add scribble and movement, and I love how they dangle off the edge of a canvas like dripping paint.

There is so much to be explored with loose threads. I love the work of Nike Schroeder, who has gone from drawing figures with loose threads to pulling the threads down and off to one side of the canvas. Her work is now all about the loose threads, and she creates great sweeping works of loose threads in graduated colours.

“It’s interesting how the threads have evolved since my first drawing.

They’ve gotten longer and longer over the years, but I’ve started trimming them a bit so viewers can see more of the faces.”

Rosie James, Textile artist

Sheer magic

I love using transparent fabrics because they’re great for layering on top of printed fabrics or other stitched pieces. I use tissue paper to make these fabrics easier to stitch on, and I always use a hoop. 

I particularly like silk organza and cotton organdie, but I also use a lot of polyester voile, which is more affordable. I’ll even stitch on netting, which is mostly holes!

My appliquéd fabrics are all recycled. Many people give me their old fabrics and others I acquire elsewhere. I do like making clothes, so I also have scraps left over from those projects. 

My colour palettes are fairly random. They might be based on a particular bit of fabric or use a different coloured thread instead of my normal black thread. I might also create a palette based on screen printing I’ve done.

Crowd Cloud

Crowd Cloud features an actual crowd of 20 different stitched figures. All were taken from photos of people approaching the London Bridge tube station on their way home from work at rush hour. 

They are hung together as a cluster, and viewers can walk around the figures and literally become part of the crowd. Viewers are also able to see through the figures to create an additional sense of being in a crowd. 

Crowd Cloud has been exhibited all over the world, usually in small groups of about 10. Only once have all 20 been displayed together.

Combining stitch & print

The figures in All the People Some of the Time are taken from photographs of people shopping in my local town. The work is both screen printed and stitched. 

I stitched the same people that I had also drawn and printed. The figures were stitched onto transparent fabric, which was then hand stitched onto the screen-printed background using a red running stitch. I wanted to build up a crowd using both stitch and print. 

In my earlier works, I only used stitch and no printing. But I love screen printing and was very keen to get back into it. So, I decided to use it to add buildings in the background and kept stitching for the figures. 

I’ve moved on from that now, and do sometimes also stitch the buildings. But I still like the contrast between a printed line and a stitched line.

Reflective stitching… literally

I’m a member of a small group of artists called the Filaments Art Collective. We put on large-scale installations, each of us doing our own thing towards the whole. 

We chose to exhibit in an unused church near where I live, in the winter of 2022. The church only had a few pews and a small altar which made it a perfect place for our imaginations to run riot.

Also, because winter is a dark and cold time of year, we wanted to create things that would light up or otherwise show up in the dark, so I searched for reflective materials. I also discovered reflective thread. It didn’t fit through a needle, so I put it in the bobbin to sew, making the back of the work become the front.

“I explored using reflective fabric, as I’m always interested in stitching on different kinds of materials.”

Rosie James, Textile artist

The reflective fabric is the same that’s used for protective clothing, and it lights up when car headlights hit it. The stitching was also revealed when a flash photo was taken. I was able to use a torch to light it up, but the stitching was only visible if I was standing at the right angle. 

I’m continuing to explore this process after discovering some high-visibility garments by the side of the road near my home. Using photos of the city at night for reference, I’m experimenting with high-visibility and reflective fabrics, as well as neon threads and fabrics.

Favourite work

I love many of my artworks and the memories of their making, but my favourite is Waiting for the Meeting to Start. I made it during the Covid lockdowns in April/May 2020. 

I was looking for something to do while stuck at home, so I posted a request on Instagram asking people to send me pictures of themselves at home. I received so many responses and eventually had to stop at 100!

I made a stitched drawing of each photo and posted it on Instagram. Each piece was 20cm (8″) square. After stitching 100 portraits, I sewed them all together to make two large panels of 50 squares each. 

Each square had a black frame around it, and I put myself in the middle with a lime green frame around my square. It was meant to look like a Zoom meeting, with me talking, hence, my portrait having a green-edged frame.  

It was first exhibited in the windows of the Intra Arts gallery in Rochester, Kent. That was great, as we still couldn’t mingle with other people due to the pandemic. It was later shown at The Festival of Quilts and The Knitting and Stitching Shows, so lots of people got to see it in person.

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

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

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

Embroidery

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

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

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

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

Selvedge

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

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

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

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

Textile Fibre Forum

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

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

Fiber Art Now

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

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

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

Quilting Arts

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

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

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

Quiltfolk

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

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

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

Surface Design Journal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

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

Freedom through limitations

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

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

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

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

Perfect pandemic project

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

Tools of the trade

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

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

“Shredding always makes everything look better.”

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seduced by fibre

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was forever changed.

That was my entry into the textile world.”

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

East meets west

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

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

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

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

Growing up with the movies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daniella Woolf,

Always learning

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t think.”

Daniella Woolf,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Connecting to culture & place

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

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

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

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

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

Olfactory art

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

Creating scented yarns

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fading fragrance

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

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

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

A natural dye palette

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

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

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

Experimental weaving

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vetiver embroidery

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

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

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

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

Tree of life

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pallavi Padukone, Olfactory artist

Navigating social media

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

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

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

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

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

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