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

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

Apron strings

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

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

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

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

Textile artist inspiration

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

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

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

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

Freestyle stitching

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

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

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

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

Natural inspirations

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

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

Creative sketches

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

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

Introducing colour

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

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

Figuring things out

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

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

Mixing things up

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

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

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

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

Favourite fabrics

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

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

Threads & stitches

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

A few basic tools

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

April Sproule, Textile artist

Silver linings

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

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

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

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

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

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

Designing my creative space

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rachna’s practice begins with the quiet act of noticing – the texture of bark, the curve of a seed pod, the subtle hues of grasses underfoot – as well as her own emotional response to the natural world.

For Rachna, each walk is a meditative experience. It’s a moment to absorb the mood and emotion of the landscape. Her materials, often gathered on her walks, guide her. They whisper possibilities shaped, in turn, by words, imagery and poetry. Together, they become the warp and the weft of her visual language: one that captures the wonder of the natural world.

Rachna Garodia: My intricately woven textures are like viewing a landscape. I’m capturing the atmosphere, tone and emotion felt on my daily walks. 

The starting point for my work has always been exploring materials, bringing unexpected textures together in a warp. I juxtapose cotton, linen, silk, nettle, hemp and wool with found materials such as paper, bark, seed pods and twigs. 

When I weave, I lose all sense of time. I get totally immersed in the craft, and day and night merge together as one. I find weaving’s rhythmic and repetitive nature meditative and calming.

Every piece of work is unique and bespoke. Each one takes shape slowly in my studio in west London and is later crafted into screens, space dividers and framed textile art.

Cultivating possibilities

I’ve always had to balance the challenge of being a mother-of-two with the fact that weaving is a slow craft. When my children were younger and I needed to work all hours to meet deadlines for shows and commissions, I used to spill out of the studio into all corners of our home.

However, rather than being a hindrance, this constraint added an interesting element to my practice. I started enjoying weaving small collections on paper and on little portable frames. 

I love the challenge of switching between locations and various types of looms and scale of work. 

“Mixing things up keeps my mind abuzz with new ideas, possibilities and helps in cultivating beginner’s mind.”

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Explorations on the loom

I’m exploring two themes constantly in my work. One is the beauty of quietude and silence that I find in nature while on my daily walks. The other is the duality of my lived life in India and the UK.

I develop my ideas using mood boards. I’ll combine photos taken on my walks with yarns and poetry or words that resonate with the theme. I find written words spark imagery that lingers within me and so naturally keeps me in a state of creative flow.

No rules weaving

I source my yarns for weaving from all over the world. I love all types of threads and I’ll often chance upon interesting and inspiring materials in car boot sales and charity shops. 

Daily walks provide a lot of natural materials like twigs, leaves and other finds. I clean and prepare these for weaving by drying and varnishing them.

When I’m starting a new project, I find it freeing to use a variety of materials like paper, yarns, fabric strips, leaves and grasses as there are no rules.

When there are no rules there’s no fear of making a mistake and getting it wrong. The key is to have fun and keep playing and experimenting till you find a method that feels right for you.

“It is liberating to just be led by the materials one is using, rather than trying to lead the material.”

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Working process 

My mum used to be a very quick and intuitive knitter, I never saw her following a pattern from a book. She had it all in her head. She inspires me and once I’ve planned my colours and materials I also work intuitively, but on the loom. 

Sometimes I have a few guiding shapes sketched out, but I tend to do my own thing. I mostly use a combination of plain weave, twill (a weave with a diagonal pattern) and soumak (where the weft threads are wrapped around the warps).

Because I’m naturally intuitive rather than a ‘step-by-step’ person, developing my Stitch Club workshop was quite entertaining. I got to see a different side of myself as I really had to pause and break down each step of the process. 

Perfecting my craft

I was introduced to weaving aged nineteen while doing my Bachelor programme. I found it magical – how a simple arrangement of threads on even a recycled piece of cardboard could result in patterns. That feeling of magic has never left me. 

Later on, I trained as a textile designer at the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad, India. There I was taught more complicated weaves together with the aesthetics of design, under the tutelage of my professors Mrs Aditi Ranjan and Mr Kurma Rao. 

This was an influential time for me. Erroll Pires Nelson, one of my design school professors, whose hands were always busy with cotton ropes and engrossed in his ply split braiding, continues to be a lifelong inspiration.

I started my art practice in 2000, with a small loom on the dining table in a tiny apartment in the suburbs of Mumbai. I began freelancing and working with various architects and interior designers, weaving a number of interesting commissions. 

My personal life, however, brought a few pauses in my creative journey – namely, having babies and moving to multiple countries. I moved from India to London in 2006, and then to Dubai in 2014, before finally making a second home in London in 2016. 

Throughout these years of settling in different homes and raising kids, I had a compulsion to create. I always travelled with my first loom, which is very dear to me, so I continued to weave wherever I was living. 

From shuttle to needle

The rhythmic taps of the loom, which had always been so reassuring for me, made it difficult to weave beside my babies, so I turned to hand embroidery. I attended the Royal School of Needlework in London to learn technical hand embroidery. 

The softness and calmness of embroidery felt natural with young children around. When weaving wasn’t possible, I designed and embroidered quilts and cushions. Gradually, I started showing my pieces in exhibitions and shows and slowly gained a rhythm and flow in my work.

So far I’ve not combined weaving and embroidery in one piece but it is something I’ve long wanted to do. Only now have I been able to make space to take my time experimenting. And I’m working on some new and exciting concepts where both techniques find a way to complement each other in one art piece.

“I learn so much by being around creative people from multiple disciplines.” 

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Creative collectives

When I finally moved my practice from home to a studio in 2017, life altered immeasurably. As well as getting a dedicated space to work outside of my home, at last I met my tribe of artists and makers that I’d not previously been acquainted with in London. 

I’m part of Pollen Collective, a group of multidisciplinary artists. Brainstorming various ways of problem solving, crit sessions and so many meaningful and joyous collaborations have come out of being part of a creative community. 

Recently I’ve been lucky enough to have the opportunity to move my studio to a refurbished barn in the beautiful and historic grounds at Chiswick House and Gardens, London. 

Dutch artist Mirjam had been put off textiles at school by critical teachers who insisted on following ‘the rules’. Even her own family taught her that there was a right and a wrong way to do embroidery. Instead, she became a children’s author. But, she was still intrigued with embroidery, and so her evenings were turned to experimenting with stitch, texture and pattern. 

Today, her nature-inspired crochet, felt works and embroideries – many worked on her own eco dyed and printed cloth – have led to large followings on Instagram, Etsy and Patreon, where she shares her knowledge via e-books and tutorials. 

Mirjam told us how the seasons are her inspiration, and that seeing Sue Stone tie a knot in her thread was the epiphany that freed her from decades of embroidery restrictions.

Creating with joy

Mirjam Gielen: It hasn’t been that long since I felt confident enough to call myself a textile artist. I learned many techniques in my youth, but I don’t have any formal training in the arts.

I love to combine my embroidery with eco printing and dyeing, crochet, felting and any other technique that helps to achieve the effect that I’m looking for.

Dyeing and printing with plants provides me with a stash of fabrics and threads. This makes me feel like a child in a room full of wonderful toys with endless possibilities!

I enjoy experimentation and that often leads to new discoveries of how to use a certain material or technique.

I create my art at home: our living room doubles as my workspace while our kitchen is frequently turned into a dye studio.

I try to limit dyeing to moments when my family members are out, or I’ll dye in the garden when the weather allows – the smells from the dye pot aren’t always appreciated. Otherwise, my family is very supportive: they help me by editing my tutorials or providing inspiration with photographs and research. In that way my work is very much embedded in family life.

My main platform is social media, especially Instagram, and I like to connect and share with people around the world. I’ve participated in a few exhibitions, but felt very much on display rather than connected to the visitors.

How did you become a textile artist?

My mother, grandmother and aunts always had some textile activity on the go. It could be knitting, embroidery, crochet or sewing, but also tatting or macramé. They invariably made things that were useful, like clothing, tablecloths or lampshades. They wanted to make them as beautiful as possible and were always on the lookout for a new pattern or pretty yarn.

They showed me the joy of needlework but were also quite obedient to what they called ‘the rules’.

At school I was often criticised for not working neatly enough. That might have been to do with the fact that I am left-handed, but was forced to do all the crafts right-handed. I was constantly chided and forced to undo my work. It left me with the idea that textile work could be great, but I just wasn’t good enough.

I kept creating on a modest scale, because the fun and satisfaction of making things with my own hands kept its appeal. The birth of my children stimulated that and I loved to craft for and with them.

I was an author of children’s books when my children were young and I started the habit of doing some stitching or crochet after a day spent juggling with words. I just played with colours and stitches as a relaxing downtime, without much thought about results. That was when the joy came back and I was able to create more freely. Slowly it grew into something more.

Did you have a particular turning point that influenced your art?

I had done some botanical dyeing with my mother, but that had been forgotten over the years. When I saw eco printed fabrics online and read a book by India Flint on the subject, something clicked and I started eco dyeing and printing myself. The fabrics I produced turned out to be the ideal basis for my stitches. 

Another pivotal moment came during a TextileArtist online course by Sue Stone. It was something really simple: she tied a knot in her thread before starting. I was aghast because I’d been taught that tying knots was more or less a deadly sin! My grandmother used to say that the back of the work should be as neat as the front – knots had no place there. 

Seeing a renowned textile artist like Sue Stone actually tying a knot was very freeing. It made me realise that I still had lots of rules in my head that were hampering my artistic freedom. 

Sue’s style is very different from mine, but she still is a role model for me in her approach to textile art. It encouraged me to get rid of the last remnants of my harsh inner critic and enjoy the creative force of exploration and experimentation.

“Eco prints feel like a magical world I can explore with my needle.”

Mirjam Gielen, Textile artist

Patterns, lines & structures

What is the ethos behind your work of creating organic embroidery on eco printed fabric?

Nature is important to me and provides a constant source of inspiration. Outdoors, I feel nourished and relaxed.

I feel that textile work has a lot in common with organic processes. I can make my stitches small or big, dense or wide apart. They can be grouped together like a herd or wander around. They colonise the fabric in an organic way, growing slowly, stitch by stitch.

Stitches have their own characteristics that are a bit like the DNA that provide code for the stitch process. A french knot looks distinctive and not like a seed stitch, just like a rose looks like a rose and not like a tulip. Then there are the influences that can steer the process in a multitude of directions, similar to the influences of soil, sun or rain in nature.

“There are so many fascinating and beautiful structures and phenomena in nature that provide inspiration.”

Mirjam Gielen, Textile artist

Eco printing helps to get rid of the ‘blank page’ problem. It immediately provides an environment that can be explored with stitches. It invites intuitive stitching and a dialogue with the fabric.

Embroidery gives me direct contact with the fabric and I think that is why it is my preferred technique. But I don’t like to limit myself: crochet, for instance, can provide interesting and organic looking structures too. Felting has also found a place in my practice, not only because it is such a delight to stitch on, but also because it can be three-dimensional.

How do you develop ideas for your work?

For inspiration, I use images that I take with my camera or that I find on the internet. I collect them on boards on Pinterest. My next step is often to draw in a sketchbook, not with the aim of designing my work in detail, but to get a hands-on feel for patterns, lines and structures. I also often make stitch samples before starting on an art work. 

These stitch explorations have led to several ‘sketchcloths’, as I like to call them; eco printed fabrics that get filled over time with all sorts of experiments. The free stitch play on those fabrics is appealing enough to blur the line between ‘sample’ and ‘art’. 

My focus is increasingly on the process rather than on the result. I can start out with a mix of inspiring images as a basis, but once I get stitching, I let my intuition lead me. I might end up with something different from what I envisioned beforehand. And, when that leads to a ‘blah’ result, I don’t see that as a failure, but as a valuable lesson and a stage in my process.

Botanical dyes, reclaimed materials

What materials do you especially like to use in your work?

I want to have a practice that doesn’t contribute to the environmental issues that we face. Industrial dyeing of fabrics is one of the most polluting industries, and I don’t want to add to that if I can help it.

Botanical dyeing is one of the solutions, but I also use reclaimed materials. I do sometimes buy new materials like goldwork threads though – I’m not looking to create a new inner critic that chides me for not being strict enough regarding my efforts to be sustainable.

There’s a lot that can be found online, from shops that sell botanical dyestuffs or organic linen, to online market places where people ask a small price for their grandmother’s leftover stash.

I once bought a large box of threads from a widower who proudly showed me all of his wife’s work. He was selling her stash to raise enough money to buy a piece of ceramic art for her grave. Every time I use her threads I remember how lovingly he talked about her. That’s the kind of added bonus that you don’t get with store bought items.

What’s been your biggest challenge in creating your art, and how did you overcome that challenge?

I think the biggest challenge was to overcome self-doubt and self-critique. I was held back by old beliefs and musty rules. My harsh inner critic was frantically trying to keep me safe, safe from disappointment, ridicule or failure – be perfect, it would say, or better still, don’t even try. It’s like an overprotective friend that hates to see you get hurt but also has a totally unrealistic estimate of the dangers. 

I have found that many of the things that I feared are in fact non-existent.

If a composition doesn’t work, I can undo things, add stitches, add an appliqué or simply try again. If I run out of steam, it’s okay to rest for a bit – my mojo won’t get lost. I can’t lose what truly belongs to me and if it doesn’t truly belong to me, it’s okay to lose it. I have started to trust in that, and it’s brought me lots of joy, through the work itself and in sharing it with others.

Time & teaching

How do you organise your working week?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were more than 24 hours in a day? But then I’d probably still discover that I didn’t have a drop to drink all morning or that it’s way past lunchtime! I can get completely engrossed in my work.

On the other hand, working from home can lead to people thinking that you are always available. I’ve had to learn to let the phone ring and say no to invitations to go for a coffee when I’m working.

Creating classes and tutorials takes up a big part of my time. I love to teach, but I need to protect the amount of time spent on it.

Social media can be another distraction. I try to take regular pauses while stitching, so as not to overtax my body by sitting in one position for too long. But I tend to fill that time by scrolling on my phone and, before I know it, I’m answering a question on Instagram, clicking on interesting links and reading messages from friends.

Being self-employed means having a lot of freedom – I can take a walk whenever I feel like it – but it also requires quite a bit of self-management.

I have a lot of followers on Instagram and a growing number of patrons on Patreon – that can lead to a feeling that I have to create interesting content all the time for all those lovely people.

Textile work is often labour-intensive and progress can be slow, so I don’t always have something new to show. When I feel that pressure I take a deep breath and realise that those demands are just in my head. Nobody actually gets angry or hurt when I don’t produce constantly.

Taking time off to stare out of the window, go on a walk or do a simple chore is time well spent as it creates space for my brain to process inspiration and come up with new ideas.

This is also similar to natural processes: seeds need time to germinate and winter days are just as important as the abundance of summer.

How is your work evolving?

I find that I’m drawn more and more to working three-dimensionally. It poses challenges that I avoided for a long time. I started with stitching on felt balls, but there are so many more possibilities – I’m excited to see where it leads me.

Do you have one or two tips for makers?

My best tip would be to focus on the process. To enjoy the journey wherever it leads.

If you see all your works as steps in an ongoing process, you become less afraid of failing. Failure doesn’t even exist. If you discover, for instance, that appliqué is not your thing or that you really shouldn’t have combined those two fabrics, that’s a lesson that will fuel your creative development just as much as any ‘successes’ will.

Another tip is to feel free to learn from others. Being inspired to try something you see someone else doing is not stealing ideas but a way of finding your own voice.

In textiles, we’re interconnected by a long tradition that spans many ages and cultures, and that always was and is the property of everyone. That said, it’s only fair to honour your sources of inspiration and give credit where it’s due.

Despite having no formal training, Emily found that hand stitching gave her the control she craved. Not knowing the ‘rules’ liberated her to do whatever worked – and this unlocked endless creative possibilities.

Emily’s artwork often features recycled materials like paper and plastic, emphasising the vulnerable side of life. She is inspired by people and places close to her heart, whether that’s a friend, a family member or wildlife encountered on daily walks. 

While Emily describes her creations as scruffy and unfinished, the dynamic energy of her stitches captures a fleeting moment, inviting you to imagine what happens next.

Emily Tull: I am a thread painter and I stitch wildlife and portraits. My work is inspired by fragmented, broken and ripped things. This gives a sense of fragility to my art. 

I view my artworks as paintings or drawings. They are called thread paintings because it’s the thread and stitching that I’m interested in. I stitch into wallpaper and plastic as well as fabric.

I focus on portraits, predominantly of family and friends. Since 2020, there has been a shift; nowadays there tends to be more connection to the sitters within my artworks. This could be through the use of particular fabrics or a title that hints at events in their lives.

I’m also interested in wildlife, mainly British species and especially ones that are endangered. I am particularly inspired by the wildlife I come across on walks at my local beach and nature reserve. 

For example, fish are stunning creatures and they can be overlooked. This is why I loved highlighting their beauty in my Stitch Club workshop. It was fun creating an exercise using shiny fabrics, which I don’t often use. 

Recently I have been working on a series of birds showing the love and hate sides to their lives. I love recreating those brief moments that we might glimpse, but not necessarily pay attention to.

“I consider my artwork as part of a story for someone else to complete.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Sparking inspiration

Inspiration comes from many sources including artists such as Frank Auerbach, Lucien Freud and Francis Bacon, the natural world, curiosity cabinets and Egyptian tomb paintings. I might be inspired by a piece of fabric, lyrics from a song, or a line of poetry. 

With portraits, I usually start with a title. This often gives me an idea of who the sitter should be and suggests what materials I might use.

Depending on the subject I’ll occasionally work from life, but generally, I work from a reference image. I use my sketchbook to plan out the pose and which fabrics I’ll use. I think about what events in the subject’s life I want to reference and how to do that. 

I might do a little drawing to decide on the shapes to cut the material. If it’s a more complex design, I might lay out all the components and write an inspirational story around it.

I start the making process with a rough sketch. I typically attach the background fabric first, unless it’s being used as an outline and then it will go on last. I use muslin gauze as the basis for the skin, pinning it on as a large piece before cutting away pieces.

After I’ve layered any fabric, I begin drawing – nothing too detailed – and then hand stitching. I always begin with the eye and work outwards from there, in no particular order. I work in quite an organic way. 

Creating wildlife isn’t very different. It all depends on what fabrics I am using. Sometimes I do the drawing on a thin cotton fabric which I then cut out and pin onto the base fabric. Again, I stitch the eyes in first and then continue out until the whole image is complete.

Mining your stash

I’m very aware of what fabrics and materials I use, particularly as so much of my artwork is about nature and its plight. 

I try to source most of my threads, fabrics and wallpaper from charity shops, or I use recycled materials. I often cut up old clothing for my artworks, but occasionally I have to buy new.

I’m a hoarder and I’ll save scraps left over from past artworks. These are invaluable especially if I’m layering up fabrics for a background.

“Go through your fabric stash every time you start something new and try to use at least one item from it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Stitching paper

My interest in wallpaper is partly inspired by sustainability and also because I’ve always enjoyed looking at layers of peeling or ripped paper. I love the sense of history and personality it gives a building. 

I first introduced wallpaper in my fabric-based work, using floral materials against contrasting patterns and colours. Now I use actual paper to stitch on. 

I prefer to use vintage wallpaper as it is sturdier and has less of a slippery surface for the needle. Sometimes I only stitch the eyes, giving only a hint of the person with a silhouette cut out of a contrasting paper to the background.

“Paper is challenging to stitch, but that’s what I like most – pushing the boundaries of what I can stitch.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Freedom in simplicity

Hand stitching is my only technique. I use a basic stitch which I vary in size and layer. If the thread knots, I leave it and stitch it in. This adds texture, especially in wildlife pieces.

Often the stitching tension is manipulated when I work on a sculptural piece. Pulling in the material tight helps create the three-dimensional effect – as seen in my mermaid purses artwork, Tangled. 

“My lack of training has given me the freedom to manipulate hand stitching without being restricted by the ‘right way’ to do it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Inspiration from frustration

I originally trained as a painter. I’ve always experimented with different techniques but I reached a point where I’d become frustrated. I realised that the kind of finish I wanted to create was never going to be achieved with my style of painting. 

One day, while stitching hessian onto a willow frame, I had a light-bulb moment and decided to stitch a face onto the fabric. I drew my eye on a scrap of muslin and then pinned it onto the hessian. 

I cobbled together a few threads and hand-stitched a basic eye over my drawing. I remember thinking the result was awful but I’d enjoyed the process. 

Drawing – whether it’s a quick sketch or very detailed – is my favourite technique. Drawing with threads reminded me of using coloured pencils. I bought some more thread colours and went on to make three male portraits. 

Paint versus stitch

When I first dabbled with hand embroidery, it was the control that I had in mark making that made me think this could be the medium for me. My background was oil painting with a palette knife, which although quick does give a very different effect. 

Even after 16 years I still struggle with how long stitching can take. However, the fine detail I can achieve, along with its painterly feel, outweighs my impatience. 

Because of the way I can use this painterly style of stitching, my subject matter has expanded compared to my painting days. Other benefits include being able to remove stitching easily and – apart from occasionally stabbing my finger – stitching is therapeutic.

I also find I’m not as precious with my artworks (unless I’m using expensive fabric) as I was with my paint. I have become looser and freer. I use sandpaper to rough up the surface and fray edges, and I rip up materials. 

My working week

As a freelance artist, no week is ever the same, as I work on projects in other mediums alongside my stitch art. 

If I’m working from home, the first hour is dedicated to emails and scheduling social media posts. If I am working on artworks, I aim to start work on them as early as possible in the day, especially as I only stitch during natural daylight hours. 

My evenings are often dedicated to admin, or planning and prepping. I often research multiple ideas at a time and can start the process many months before I have the opportunity to stitch them.

Research is one of my favourite parts of the process. I love learning about my subject matter in detail. Although sometimes it can take time to find what I’m looking for, I love the challenge of searching. 

“I tend to do a rough drawing with notes initially because I prefer to put the energy into the actual artwork.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Taking time out

I really enjoy working in different mediums and at very different scales. I work on community projects, including carnival builds and lantern parades, alongside my stitched artwork. 

Although it means I have periods away from stitching, I like to have a break from making my personal art. 

Social media definitely puts pressure on creatives to feel like they have to be producing work all the time and, unless you are feeling inspired, that is unhealthy. We are not machines and taking time out is refreshing. 

I like to spend time on the beach or a nature reserve where I feel relaxed and centred. I also like to go to places that inspire my art so it feels productive without pressure.

“It’s healthy for my soul to have time away and look at ideas with fresh eyes.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Look & look again

When I’m working on a new artwork and have decided on my reference image(s), I spend a few days carefully looking at the photograph, before I start making. 

Spending time observing helps your eyes hone in on the finer details. You’ll be surprised at the subtleties in colour that will appear. This will help inform your choice of fabric and threads.

“If you are using a reference image, my biggest tip is to keep looking at it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Cultivate self-belief

I have always followed what interests me. I work in my own style of stitching, which comes naturally to me. Over time you’ll create your own shorthand of making. This is how you remain authentic to yourself.

Don’t be distracted by what other people are making or compare yourself to them. That can undermine your confidence and it’s easy to get caught up with a fashionable style.

“Believe in yourself – don’t try to be anyone else.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Constantly evolving

Over time, my work has developed from tomb paintings to ripped wallpaper and I’ve changed the materials that I’m stitching into. 

There’s now a blurring of the lines between portrait and wildlife. I’m creating portraits that include wildlife. This introduces another dimension to people’s personalities and it’s also an observation of mankind’s relationship with nature. 

It’s been good to bring together themes that started separately and it’s something I want to continue exploring. 

I also want to carry on experimenting with the surfaces that I can stitch into, both two-dimensionally, and three-dimensionally and also for installation displays.

Recently, I’ve been looking back, to move forward. I’ve been focusing on my oil paintings and craving the lumps of colours that would appear in my work. 

After all this time, I feel that I understand my process and I’ve got it to a level I’m happy with. Now I feel it’s time to see if I can create those lovely painterly lumps in stitch. How I do that we’ll have to see but I am looking forward to experimenting.

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. 

Living in an isolated part of Australia while raising her young family, Dijanne had little access to materials and tuition. Undeterred, she taught herself to dye, print and stitch her own fabrics.

She learnt to use natural vegetation from the Australian bush for her experiments on fabric and paper. Making sustainability and environmental concerns a priority, she developed skills that she could teach to others.

Dijanne has travelled, taught and exhibited in Europe, Australia and Asia, often working with small indigenous communities to upskill women.

She loves to tell stories about her travels and her interests in history, art, nature and the environment. Let’s take a look at how her richly textured cloth does that in the most tactile and visually pleasing way.

Dye, print & ink

How do you develop your colourful and textural art?

Dyeing and printing fabric has been a part of my arts practice since the beginning. I had a limited budget when I started creating textile art, as I had a young family, and also because we lived in an isolated region. So I had to be inventive in creating my own fabrics. As time progressed, it became an important element in my work.

I’ve always been inspired by nature and environmental issues, as I’ve lived in a reasonably wild region of the world. I’ve seen the catastrophic effects of pine plantations, fires and farming, and how they’ve impacted all of nature.

My earlier work dealt with issues of bushfires – the Hellfire Series. That’s morphed into working with natural inks, again using sustainability and environmental concerns in this practice.

I’ve collaborated with Australian artist Cheryl Cook, under the name Inkpot Alchemists, to make natural inks with vegetation from the bush and from our gardens. I use them to colour and print on fabric and paper. Some of the vegetation for the inks has been sourced in very small amounts from the Crinigan Bushland Reserve, where I walk regularly.

The printing has developed into more elaborate linocuts over the years. I also print with nature itself, particularly when using natural inks. I like to think of it as a partnership with nature, which is full of surprises.

Today, my home is my studio, as I live alone in Morwell, Australia, a small city in the industrial Latrobe Valley in Gippsland, Victoria. When I collaborate with Cheryl, we work together in her studio in Tanjil South.

See, play & stitch

You’ve created a Stitch Club workshop – tell us about the artwork you developed during the process.

The artwork I created incorporates two of my favourite techniques: linocut printing and hand stitch, as well as a favourite subject matter, travel. The workshop is all about observations, play and stitch, and is inspired by travel, gardens and nature.

The motifs for the workshop were inspired by my travels in Perugia, Italy in 2023. I spent two weeks there visiting galleries and museums and enjoying the countryside. I was inspired by the ambience and history of this hilltop town in Umbria.

The work incorporates printing one’s own fabric inspired by travel encounters, and then stitching into it to recreate the rich textures.

I chose emblems I’ve encountered, which included rabbits on woven cloth in the artisan weaving workshop, Giuditta Brozzetti Museum and Atelier, and many representations of trees seen in paintings. I also include sculptures and posters, the griffin – the heraldic emblem for Perugia – and the many madonnas in paintings and textile designs.

The stitching enlivens and connects the images. This process is adapted from the type of work I do in my Traveller’s Blanket series, which are vehicles for telling stories of encounters and travels. The linocuts allow me to make printed fabric incorporating images from the place, and the stitching is the mark making that connects those images to create a whole.

History of lace

How did you develop your artistic skills over time?

I was born in the Netherlands and my parents migrated to Australia when I was nine years old. When we first arrived we lived on a very large station (63,000 acres) 18 miles from Jerilderie, a country town in New South Wales. I attended the Australian National University where I studied Arts Law and practised for 10 years as a solicitor.

I was initially self taught in art and textiles, but in the early 2000’s I embarked on a master’s degree in visual and performing arts through distance learning. It saw me create work inspired by the history of migration in my own family, and interpret that using lace.

I could trace part of my family to the early 1600s and Huguenot French, which was a similar timeline to lace developing in Europe, and so I created lace reflecting this journey.

My work has always been about themes and series; in a sense, they’re stories and record my interests in history, art, nature and the environment.

Exploring through journalling

When planning and researching, how do you develop ideas for your work?

I keep a journal, not a sketch book as such. I do draw in my journal and might keep interesting snippets of brochures or some such.

But a lot of my journal is writing – I might write about encounters, but often also the ambience of a place and the feelings it might inspire. The writing might be as prosaic as ‘I need to do more work’, but on the other hand might explore thematic or philosophical ideas.

This journalling process allows me to write about the work in an essay style, expressing ideas about, for example, the environment. It may or may not develop into a body of work or an exhibition, but it helps me to explore themes.

“My writing is a process of exploration and evolution – it can allow me to develop poetry around the theme, as well as visual imagery to use in my art.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

I think about my work in writing, but not as individual pieces – more as a thematic body of work. I also go down many rabbit holes. I enjoy researching by way of books and or other media. I have quite a formidable, eclectic library.

I also mind map themes. If I’m really exploring a theme in depth, I’ll dedicate a separate journal for that. I’ll often start with a mind map to help me keep on track, but also to add things to, as I spend time exploring.

Narrative layers

How do you begin a new artwork?

As I explore my theme by way of mind maps and my journal, I develop some ideas for printed images on fabric that help to tell the story. I then embellish those prints with stitch to create a rich, almost narrative, layer.

A lot of my work is intuitive, one thing leads to another, and I don’t necessarily plan or record those – it comes out of the process itself and I get carried away.

I’ll dye the fabric, as all my work commences with white or unbleached khadi fabric. I’ll then add print. I usually work with whole cloth and add stitch by machine and/or by hand. Sometimes I’ll add appliqué if the piece needs it.

In my artworks Coqueclicot I and II I used a technique called Tifaifai. If the designs are cut carefully, you end up with a positive cutout and a negative cutout, both of which can be made into finished pieces.

In my piece Medieval Concertina Book I’ve hand stitched mulberry paper, which softens beautifully as you stitch.

Natural cotton fabrics

What fabrics, threads and other materials do you like to use in your work?

I use cotton fabrics, especially unbleached khadi cotton, obtained from The Stitching Project in India, which I hand dye.

I sometimes buy ordinary white cotton purchased from IKEA, or linen sheets bought secondhand at brocante markets in France. I source flannel for batting or other lightweight batting, textile printing inks, and cotton – usually cotton perlé #8 thread or linen (merlin) threads – from Fonty in France.

Stitching while travelling

Where do you like to create your art?

I work in a dedicated workroom, though I tend to use most of my house for creating. My kitchen table is regularly used for the work I do with natural ink, and when the weather is fine I also work outside.

When I travel, I usually work on one of the travellers blankets, as this requires a relatively small kit: scissors, cotton perlé #8 threads and some needles, which means it can pack very small.

The blankets take so much time that it keeps me occupied the entire time I travel. But having said that, I usually am carrying an exhibition and my hand printed panels for sale, so there’s not much room for anything else.

My image of Journey Through My Surface Design is of works created in 2018 for an exhibition of travellers blankets. It was entitled Exploration Australia, Atauro Island, The Temptation of Persephone. All were entirely hand stitched and hand dyed khadi with a mix of applied linocut motifs or simply hand stitched.

Teaching in the community

Tell us about some of the art projects and residencies you’ve done.

My residency with Boneca de Atauro on the island of Atauro in South-East Asia was all about community, as well as teaching skills and ideas I had for the women to develop a marketable product.

Boneca de Atauro is a women’s group of 60-70 women: that varies depending upon need and capacity. It’s not fostered by an NGO but directed and driven by the women themselves. It’s been one of the most inspiring and communal ways of working I’ve seen.

As such, it wasn’t really about developing my own work, though it inevitably did.

It was more about helping to improve the women’s skills. As a teacher in an environment where scholastic learning was absent, except amongst the younger women (and then usually only basic level education because they were girls), it took a little while to settle in. Also, they spoke very little English and I spoke no Tetun and only small snips of Portuguese.

I couldn’t just march in and lay out the skills; I had to observe how they worked and how they learnt.

They worked a lot with treadle machines. I’d never actually worked on one so I thought I should learn. In a way, it was this that broke the ice.

I wasn’t instantly good at using a treadle machine, and so nearly every woman there showed me how, or would gently guide me.

“This learning interchange resulted in equalising our relationship, so the women became receptive to learning from an outsider.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

Culturally, their hierarchies are circular, not linear like Western societies. They needed to make a presentation to the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs for a working grant. So we sat and mind mapped so that I could comprehend, but also present, their case for them in a more understanding way. It was an amazing experience and I do hope to go back.

It’s very difficult for the group to source supplies, and the fabric they work with isn’t good quality cotton. The small island is 20 nautical miles from Dili, the capital of East Timor, so there are many logistical difficulties, which makes their story all the more inspiring.

I’ve also worked with The Stitching Project in India, working on stitching and teaching skills to some of the women. As they use a lot of woodblock print, I showed them ways to incorporate stitch into the patterns created by the woodblock.

Exhibiting art quilts

My one big takeaway has been to be inspired by other ways of working, and to look, watch, understand and learn.

In the year 2000, I co-curated, with Frederique Tison, a travelling exhibition of Australian Art Quilts. They were shown at Chateau de Chassy in the Morvan region in France.

Coincidentally, 2000 also happened to be the year that the Olympics were held in Sydney, Australia. We were the only Australian Textile and Art exhibition in Europe, so it attracted much attention in France and ended up being shown at the Australian Embassy in Paris.

This led to curating more Australian Art quilt exhibitions, one of which travelled to the Middle East at the invitation of Robert Bowker, the Australian Ambassador to Egypt, Syria and Libya. I accompanied the exhibition for much of this, demonstrating and installing it.

These exhibitions included 30 works by Australian quilt artists and were much appreciated for their innovation, colour and expression of place.

Interpreting nature

Which piece of your textile art is your favourite?

I don’t have a particular favourite, but I do enjoy working on the travellers blankets, as these are entirely stitched by hand and are storybooks of a sort.

I also enjoy working on my sewing machine, usually on whole cloth heavily stitched pieces. My favourites amongst machine work are the forest scenes, as these allow me to make comments about the environment and nature, and to interpret nature.

Vision makes art

What do you think are the biggest challenges you face as a textile artist?

Breaking down the prejudices of textile being art and the perceptions that it’s a little hobby that women do. This lowliness in esteem means that textile artists often have to teach their techniques in order to sustain themselves, which means taking away energy from art creation.

Galleries have been very slow in accepting textiles as art. It’s the double whammy of being perceived as having been ‘made’ by women and actually being ‘created’ by women. And we all know that women are underrepresented in the gallery system.

“Technique alone does not produce art – it’s the ideas, interpretations and visions that make the art.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

Individual expression

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

Mind maps really help – it helps to focus ideas and establish avenues of research and exploration.

And keep doing the work: working consistently and daily helps establish a pattern of work, but also allows daily time for exploration. Working sporadically means you start over each time, but working daily, even if it’s only for an hour, helps establish continuity.

The techniques I use and the materials – dyeing and printing my own fabrics – allow me to tell stories of places visited and encounters with nature. These kinds of techniques allow for very individual expression and help me to develop my own voice.

“My needle and thread are my pencil and mark making tool – the fact that the stitching produces texture is an added bonus.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

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

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

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

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

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

Intrigue, impact & illusion

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

Burnishing & manipulating

What made you decide to work with discarded tin cans?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

Actor, puppeteer, artist

How did you develop your artistic skills?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

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

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

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

Symmetry & the golden ratio

Tell us more about your process and techniques…

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goldwork & beading

What are your must-have tools or supplies?

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

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

Stitch Club challenges

Tell us about the workshop you created for Stitch Club…

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

The Last Nightingale

Which piece of your textile art is your most favourite?

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

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

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

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

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

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

Puzzle pieces

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mistakes & experiments

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

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

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

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

Emma Pannell, Textile artist

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

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

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

Since then, she has evolved into an award-winning textile artist, moving beyond the glue stick to craft fabric forms, wearable art and captivating installations. Alice’s work emphasises the significance of the natural world. Her practice is centred around creating immersive experiences that encourage tactile exploration with the soothing embrace of nature.

At the heart of her practice is the desire to share these benefits with others. Not only does working with others enhance her own mental well being, but she also finds joy in imparting her skills to diverse communities.

Using recycled materials, her workshops focus on skill sharing, storytelling and co-creating, with a dose of nature and the power of connection mixed in. She intertwines art and nature to ignite the senses and nourish the soul, giving marginalised communities a voice and enhancing their overall well-being.

Ultimately, her goal is to harness the healing power of textiles and the natural world.

Alice Burnhope: My practice focuses on community engagement and skill sharing, to empower and amplify marginalised voices. I’m aiming to recreate the sense of awe and therapeutic qualities of nature through textiles.

Using traditional craft skills and waste materials, I create wearable art, tactile sculptural forms, and installations inspired by the aesthetics and textures of nature.

My artwork is designed to be activated through touch or interaction. I adore creating pieces where the individual shapes the artwork and vice versa. This reciprocal relationship fascinates me deeply, illustrating our interdependence with the natural world for sustenance and survival.

“My work promotes connectivity to the natural world, fostering environmental stewardship and enhancing well-being through participatory art.”

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

Empowering stitch

Community engagement is a cornerstone of my artistic practice. I work with a diverse array of groups including schools, community centres, charities and marginalised communities.

My approach is deeply collaborative, focusing on co-creating artworks that amplify the voices of participants and foster a sense of belonging and empowerment.

“Overall, my aim is to create art that not only beautifies spaces but also enriches lives and fosters community spirit through the power of textiles.”

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

In my community workshops, we play with traditional craft techniques such as embroidery, natural dyeing and patchwork, often utilising recycled or waste materials.

Participants contribute by sharing their stories and skills, which we then integrate into the final artwork. For example, in one project community members embroidered personal symbols and messages onto recycled fabric pieces that were later assembled into a large, wearable art piece and sculptural installation.

The benefits for participants are multifaceted. Engaging in these creative processes helps to boost their well-being, provides a platform for self-expression, and strengthens their connection to nature and each other.

Additionally, these projects offer a sense of accomplishment and visibility, as the artworks are often exhibited in public spaces such as galleries, allowing their voices and stories to reach a wider audience.

Healing plants

I am a Creative Practitioner for the Royal Horticultural Society’s ‘Gardens of Imagination’ programme (2024-2026). This national co-creation project explores modern-day herbalism through gardens, gardening, plants and their healing powers.

I work alongside individuals from multicultural backgrounds, some experiencing mental or physical ill-health, and volunteers from seven local Lewisham green space growing communities. We aim to connect people with nature and each other.

Together, we created a tactile sensory installation that reflected their collective visual identity and therapeutic experiences within nature. It was showcased at hARTSlane gallery in Lewisham, London, UK.

Transforming textiles

Despite being severely dyslexic, I found my passion in the arts. A foundation course introduced me to textiles and I was awarded a scholarship to study Textiles: Innovation & Design at degree level.

Textiles captivated me from the moment I realised their transformative potential. The ability to take a single piece of fabric and shape it into garments, sculptures or installations fascinated me deeply.

The unparalleled versatility and creative freedom of textiles allow me to explore endless possibilities in form and function. I was drawn to the profound emotional connection we have with textiles throughout our lives.

From the day we are born until our last breath textiles envelop us, providing comfort, warmth and a means of self-expression. They are integral to our daily existence, reflecting our identities and histories.

I am constantly exploring new ways to harness the tactile and expressive qualities of textiles to create meaningful, evocative artwork that resonates with others.

“This intimate relationship with textiles ignited my imagination and continues to inspire my artistic journey.”

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

Igniting creativity

Geology is a significant inspiration for me. The forms, textures and colours found in geological structures are visually captivating. Beyond their aesthetic appeal, the origins of these formations are incredibly grounding and humbling.

Understanding that they were created over hundreds of millions of years through the Earth’s movements and natural processes reminds me of our small place within the vast timeline of the Earth’s history.

This perspective fuels my creative process, illustrating the profound and intricate beauty of the natural world.

Becoming inspired

My creative process typically begins with immersive experiences in nature, where I absorb the tactile and visual qualities of my surroundings.

I start by sketching and documenting forms and textures that resonate with me. This initial research informs my exploration of textile techniques that will enable me to translate these experiences into tangible artworks.

Refining these techniques to achieve the desired effect is often a process of trial and error. Once satisfied, I methodically plan the steps required to bring the artwork to fruition.

“Hand stitching is pivotal for adding texture and nuance, while machine stitching plays a crucial role in the structural integrity of the work.”

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

Stitching ecologically

Sustainability and environmental awareness are fundamental principles in my artistic practice. I believe deeply in our interconnectedness with nature: our well being and survival depend on the health of the planet.

This conviction drives me to minimise my ecological footprint through conscientious choices in materials and processes. I prioritise using secondhand fabrics, deadstock and offcut cottons and linens.

These materials reduce waste and also offer unique textures and histories to my pieces. They also align with my commitment to sustainability. I enjoy sourcing these fabrics through charity shops or from friends, as this process adds a personal and community-driven element to my art.

By repurposing materials, I hope to inspire others to reconsider the value of discarded textiles and to embrace sustainable alternatives. Additionally, I advocate for the use of certified sustainable fabrics and encourage brands to adopt more environmentally responsible practices.

Ultimately, my goal is to create art that not only engages and inspires but also fosters a deeper respect for our natural world.

“I aim to contribute positively to environmental stewardship and promote a more sustainable future for textile artistry and beyond.”

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

Observational skills

In my Stitch Club workshop, my aim for members is to develop a keen eye for observing the intricate forms, textures, and colours of nature. By honing these observational skills, members will be inspired to create beautiful, tactile artworks that reflect the natural world around them.

My hope is that participants gain confidence in using these natural elements as a rich source of artistic inspiration, transforming their observations into unique and expressive textile pieces.

Dyeing naturally

Dyeing with natural dyes is a great way to begin reconnecting with nature through textiles. If you are new to this process, I recommend starting with an onion dye bath. Collect 50 per cent of the weight of your textile fibre in onion skins. For example, if you have 100g (3½ oz) of cotton, use 50g (1¾ oz) of onion skins.

Simmer the skins for 30 minutes to one hour. Sieve the liquid to remove the skins. Pre-wet your fibre and then pop it in the liquid and simmer or boil for another 30 minutes to one hour depending how strong you want the colour to be. You can also take it off the heat and leave it to steep overnight. Just go for it and enjoy!

‘Natural dyes have a mind of their own, so every outcome is a beautiful surprise.’

Alice Burnhope, Textile artist & artist educator

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embroidered stories

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

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

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

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

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

Innovative stitching

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

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

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

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

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

Ball gown made of bras

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

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

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

Family influences

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

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

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

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

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

Fashion design challenges

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist 

Wire mesh and maths

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

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

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

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

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

Be here now

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

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

“A lot of the joy comes from experimentation. 

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Organic flowers

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

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

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

The zen approach

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

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

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

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

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist

Art for love

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

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

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

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

Although materials change, threads of personal style remain throughout. 

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

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

Robin McCarthy, Textile artist 

Monika is known for her embroidered thread paintings and her hand stitched yarn paintings. Into these, she instils her sense of place, alongside personal moments of joy and discovery.

She has a passion for exploring and capturing the land and sky around her. It’s with fascination that she beholds the light and movement in the landscape.

And she studies all this with a stitcher’s eye. For Monika, grasses are threads and leaves are ribbons.

It’s with verve and dexterity that she stitches, capturing the movement of the wind as it passes through the natural grasslands. It’s with all her body’s senses that she translates the changing light of day using different thread sheens and textures. And it’s with her heart that she creates impressionistic textile art inspired by the land that she loves.

Endless inspiration

Tell us about the subject matter that most inspires you.

Monika Kinner: I was born on the Canadian Prairie, and raised outside by an artist and refugee who immigrated to Canada. I have a deep connection to, and respect for, this land that holds and supports me.

My subject matter is quite specific to the Meewasin River Valley. Meewasin is Cree for ‘it is beautiful’. The Meewasin is an area of stewarded land over 100km (62 miles) long, encompassing both sides of the South Saskatchewan River, part of which runs through the city of Saskatoon in which I live.

This river system is a major migration route for North American birds, and the land contains some of the last remaining unbroken Prairie which are home to precious flora and fauna. The location offers four distinct seasons, beautiful open sunsets and sunrises, and year round views of aurora borealis and the moon.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have all of this so close at hand. Honestly, I do not bother to travel far at all – the inspiration here is endless.

“I’m a self-taught, land-based Prairie artist, who, like my mother before me, chose to create a career and support my family by doing what I love.”

Monika Kinner, Textile artist

From photos to drawing

How do you develop your textile art? Tell us a bit about your process.

I begin with my camera. I take a lot of photos – perhaps too many. I feel so inspired whenever I’m outside.

Beauty is everywhere.

It can be a walk past an overgrown lot, or a stroll by the river. It can be one little bud on the branch of a tree or the way the morning light comes in the window.

At times, I will jump right in and start stitching. Other times I will play around with the photos. I’ll view and review, working with various cropped versions to see what new compositions can be discovered in a single photo. I can always find plenty of inspiration in one photograph.

Once I have a collection of ‘winners’, I will often compile them into a folder. From there, I’ll sit down and create preliminary sketches from them.

“I practise drawing out the shapes to really get to know them before I begin stitching.”

Monika Kinner, Textile artist

I find the most fantastic media to be coloured pencils or oil pastels on black paper. They pop with colour and always excite, often resulting in more vivid memories and patterns than the original image offered.

These drawings give me terrific subject matter to stitch from. In fact, I often file away the original photos and only work from the drawings. They serve as the patterns. Sometimes, they are so fresh and fun that I feel that no one needs to see the original.

Painting with threads

When I create my thread paintings, I begin by selecting background fabrics: usually one for the sky and one or two for the land. Then I stitch, using free-motion machine embroidery with my straight stitch, non-computerized, mid-arm, high-shank Juki sewing machine. I manually move the cloth under the needle in order to create my own stitches.

I’m able to situate my machine sideways and have a perfect view of my work as I stitch. I turn my work sideways too to manually zig and zag my straight stitches.

I’ll change threads often, like a painter dips the brush into a new colour, to achieve the look I need. I stitch directionally, emulating fine brush strokes or pencil lines with my thread.

When it comes to stitching the foregrounds for these pieces, hand stitching wins. I feel that some things simply can’t be emulated with the mechanical sewing machine.

As I fill a space with tiny hand stitches, it’s as if a timelapse of plant growth springs forth from my needle. This process brings me neverending joy. It’s like I’m holding a piece of my beloved prairie in my hands.

“The tactile nature of the fibres brings the prairie flora to life.”

Monika Kinner, Textile artist

Tactile yarn stitching

My yarn embroideries are entirely hand stitched onto felt canvas.

For me, these deeply personal, impressionistic displays of the prairie have a more intimate feel.

I create them in a painterly manner using variegated hand dyed yarns from around the world. Each stitch appears like a brushstroke of blended paint, and I build the scenes with thousands of straight stitches of varying lengths, covering the entire background.

I frame my thread paintings under glass with double or floating mount boards in the same way traditional embroidery is preserved and displayed. My yarn embroideries are more tactile and so I frame those without glass.

The art of choosing threads

What fabrics and threads do you use in your work?

For thread paintings, I use any regular weight thread. I’m looking for the right colour and I’m not fussy about brands. If Sulky doesn’t have it, Gütermann might. If King Tut doesn’t, Wonderfil may.

A perfect canola yellow was made by Trident but I can’t find it anymore. The fibre, whether polyester, cotton or a blend, doesn’t matter to me – they tend to appear the same to the eye. And once they’re made into art, they aren’t going to be washed and worn so anything goes.

If I’m wanting a sheen, then I’ll use rayon or a sparkly holographic thread. It really depends on what I’m stitching.

My bobbin thread is always 80 weight poly Decobob by Wonderfil. When I stitch, this bobbin thread doesn’t show. It is invisible and because it’s so fine, it creates no bulk on the backside. This is very helpful when mounting my work. Finally, because of the fine thread, it holds an incredible amount on the bobbin, so I can sew for a long time before running out.

When I work with yarns it can be any type of yarn – wool (alpaca, bison, merino), silk, linen/flax, poly, cotton or tencel. I may add beads or threads for interest or detail. Generally, I prefer yarns that are worsted and not cotton, because they have some give to them.

Hand dyed or hand painted yarns are just gorgeous. If you’d like me to name-drop, I’d say Noro and Malabrigo yarns are my favourites. And I’ll advocate for handmade – shop local first. I prefer to use brick-and-mortar shops or order online directly from yarn sellers. I do not use Amazon.

Importance of colour

Do you have a preferred colour palette? Why do these colours attract you?

That’s a great question – no one ever asks me that. Thank you! I love green, orange, yellow and a bit of purple.

I adore chartreuse. My children called it ‘ugly green’ when they were little. I call it ‘electric lettuce green’. It’s a green that is so close to the sun.

I learned that the word ‘inspire’ means to fill with breath or draw air in. That is exactly what seeing chartreuse green does for me. I also love the way greens can turn into orange, and how purples can turn into orange as well. That might not make any sense unless you’ve painted a lot of landscapes.

Isn’t it odd that I don’t really use red in my art?

Becoming impressionistic

What’s been your biggest challenge in creating your art?

I started my impressionistic technique during a period of work that was created through a provincial arts board grant. It was earlier in my career when I was feeling really stuck as a thread painter. My art looked just like a picture of the prairie but I wanted more emotion in it. I found that by using a black background and colourful yarns I could achieve that emotion.

My other challenge has been figuring out how to work big and still hold my style. My smallest works seem to be the most endearing. I’m still working on this…

“Becoming more impressionistic was the hardest thing ever – it finally happened when I began sketching on black paper and stitching with yarn.”

Monika Kinner, Textile artist

A natural childhood

What or who were your early influences?

My mother has everything to do with who I am and how I see the world. I grew up outside (back in the day when there was nothing to do in the house) between living on an acreage and a cabin at a lake. I watched the weather, the land, the seasons, the sun and the cycles of life – I lived it.

I didn’t grow up with anyone who could teach me about stitching. My play time was spent drawing. Our neighbours were art gallery owners. My mom worked en plein air (painting outdoors) and was absolutely spellbound by her surroundings.

I began quilting once I became a mother in my mid 30s. And I actually discovered textile art at the age of 40 after joining a quilt guild. Finally, I’d found my medium!

I’d never heard of textile art before. I’d taken art courses, but no one had ever used thread or fabric in any of them.

I’m purely self taught. And as soon as I began my textile art practice, I was pushed – encouraged – to teach. At this time, I really didn’t have time to think. I was teaching as fast as I was learning. Generally, I would say I’m an artist who uses thread and yarn as a medium. I’m not an embroiderer or quilter who makes art.

Recognising textiles as art

Tell us about a piece of your work that holds particularly fond memories…

The first time I had a piece juried in a regular art show alongside painters, I won first place.

It was a struggle to enter because they told me that my work didn’t belong there. I responded that it was a framed, matted and mounted landscape and so therefore it was art. It got accepted.

Today, we’re fortunate to enjoy – more and more – the recognition of textiles as art in our country.

Top tips

Do you have any tips for makers?

One pro tip I can offer is to consider the fact that yarns have different light reflecting qualities. The exact same colour in silk will shine and reflect light, whereas wool will absorb light.

For instance, if you’re stitching a dark pink background, you may want to choose wool over silk. If the same dark pink is in a feature element like flowers, then silk would be a perfect way to bring that colour forward out of the background because of the way light bounces off of it.

I’d also encourage readers not to give up on a poor quality photo. Source photos can be played with. So often, we snap a photo and then look at it later and are surprised it didn’t turn out the way we thought.

My advice is to put back into it what you remember. Turn up the contrast. Play with the light and dark. Straighten it. Add warmth. Add coolness. Crop it. Highlight it. Save as a copy. Go back to the original image and play with it some more.

“You took the photo for a reason – get that spark back by playing with the source image.”

Monika Kinner, Textile artist