Mark making – TextileArtist https://www.textileartist.org Make beautiful art with fabric & thread Thu, 04 Dec 2025 21:45:37 +0000 en-GB hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.8.3 https://www.textileartist.org/wp-content/uploads/textileart_favicon2023_CORAL.gif Mark making – TextileArtist https://www.textileartist.org 32 32 April Sproule: Mixed media perfection https://www.textileartist.org/april-sproule-mixed-media-perfection/ https://www.textileartist.org/april-sproule-mixed-media-perfection/#comments Thu, 04 Dec 2025 21:45:35 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/april-sproule-mixed-media-perfection/ To say April Sproule is a ‘mixed media textile artist’ is an understatement. Just take a look at the captions for her work, and you’ll see what we mean. Each piece features a compelling array of techniques and materials, including hand stitch, dyeing, printing, painting, appliqué, stencilling and inkwork.

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.

April Sproule, Mr. Blue, 2021. 36cm x 46cm (14” x 18”). Hand appliqué, hand embroidery, stencilling. Linen, silk, cotton, textile paints, handmade paper from Nepal.
April Sproule, Mr. Blue, 2021. 36cm x 46cm (14″ x 18″). Hand appliqué, hand embroidery, stencilling. Linen, silk, cotton, textile paints, handmade paper from Nepal.

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.

April Sproule, Grandma Petersen, 2018. 30cm x 23cm (12” x 9”). Hand embroidery and hand crocheted lace. Eco-dyed silk, handmade lace, my grandmother’s embroidery scissors.
April Sproule, Grandma Petersen, 2018. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Hand embroidery and hand crocheted lace. Eco-dyed silk, handmade lace, my grandmother’s embroidery scissors.

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
April Sproule, Gray and Rust Art Tech Satchel, 2015. 38cm x 30cm x 8cm (15” x 12” x 4”). Stencilling, hand embroidery, free-motion quilting. Linen, textile paints, cotton floss, original stencils.
April Sproule, Gray and Rust Art Tech Satchel, 2015. 38cm x 30cm x 8cm (15″ x 12″ x 4″). Stencilling, hand embroidery, free-motion quilting. Linen, textile paints, stranded cotton embroidery threads, original stencils.

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
April Sproule, Red Moths Art Tech Satchel, 2016. 38cm x 30cm x 8cm (15” x 12” x 4”). Stencilling, hand embroidery, free-motion quilting. Linen, textile paints, cotton floss, original stencils.
April Sproule, Red Moths Art Tech Satchel, 2016. 38cm x 30cm x 8cm (15″ x 12″ x 4″). Stencilling, hand embroidery, free-motion quilting. Linen, textile paints, stranded cotton embroidery threads, original stencils.

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
April Sproule, Blue Jay Sampling (detail). 2021. 25cm x 20cm (10” x 8”). Hand appliqué, hand embroidery, stencilling. Linen, cotton and cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Blue Jay Sampling (detail). 2021. 25cm x 20cm (10″ x 8″). Hand appliqué, hand embroidery, stencilling. Linen, cotton and stranded cotton embroidery threads.

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.

Intricate stitched floral design with textured leaves
April Sproule, Home, Notan 1, 2024. 36cm x 36cm (14″ x 14″). Painted papers and fabrics, hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, cotton, silk, paper, stranded cotton embroidery threads.
Intricate stitched pattern of leaves and insects.
April Sproule, Home, Notan 2, 2024. 36cm x 36cm (14″ x 14″). Painted papers and fabrics, hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, cotton, silk, paper, stranded cotton embroidery threads.

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.

April Sproule, Noshi Production Sketch, 2014. 20cm x 25cm (8” x 10”). Production drawing to scale. Sketchbook.
April Sproule, Noshi Production Sketch, 2014. 20cm x 25cm (8″ x 10″). Production drawing in a sketchbook.
April Sproule, Noshi, 2014. 76cm x 116cm (30” x 46”). Free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, wool batting, Aurifil thread.
April Sproule, Noshi, 2014. 76cm x 116cm (30″ x 46″). Free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, wool batting, Aurifil threads.

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.

April Sproule, Rising Above the Fray, 2021. 76cm x 102cm (30” x 40”). Hand dyeing, stencilling, reverse and regular appliqué, hand embroidery, free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, metallic silk organza, textile paints, vintage metallic threads, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Rising Above the Fray, 2021. 76cm x 102cm (30″ x 40″). Hand dyeing, stencilling, reverse and regular appliqué, hand embroidery, free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, metallic silk organza, textile paints, vintage metallic threads, stranded cotton embroidery threads.

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.

April Sproule, Rising Above the Fray (detail), 2021. Hand dyeing, stenciling, reverse and regular appliqué, hand embroidery, free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, metallic silk organza, textile paints, vintage metallic threads, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Rising Above the Fray (detail), 2021. Hand dyeing, stencilling, reverse and regular appliqué, hand embroidery, free-motion machine quilting. Cotton sateen, metallic silk organza, textile paints, vintage metallic threads, stranded cotton embroidery threads.
April Sproule, Boro Stitched Hummingbird, 2020. 23cm x 23cm (9” x 9”). Hand appliqué and embroidery, block printing. Linen, printing ink, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Boro Stitched Hummingbird, 2020. 23cm x 23cm (9″ x 9″). Hand appliqué, embroidery, block printing. Linen, printing ink, stranded cotton embroidery threads.

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!

April Sproule, Indigo Japanese Shibori and Boro, 2020. 23cm x 23cm (9” x 9”). Hand appliqué and embroidery. Hand-dyed indigo shibori cotton, linen, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Indigo Japanese Shibori and Boro, 2020. 23cm x 23cm (9″ x 9″). Hand appliqué, embroidery. Hand-dyed indigo shibori cotton, linen, stranded cotton embroidery threads.
April Sproule, Stitching in the Round (detail), 2022. 30cm x 30cm (12” x 12”). Hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, silk, sumi ink, painted papers, handmade cording, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Stitching in the Round (detail), 2022. 30cm x 30cm (12″ x 12″). Hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, silk, sumi ink, painted papers, handmade cording, stranded cotton embroidery threads.

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.

April Sproule, Joy, 2020. 30cm x 41cm (12” x 16”). Hand embroidery, inkwork. Linen, cotton embroidery floss, Tsukineko inks.
April Sproule, Joy, 2020. 30cm x 41cm (12″ x 16″). Hand embroidery, inkwork. Linen, stranded cotton embroidery threads, Tsukineko inks.

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.

April Sproule, Home, A Sense of Place (detail), 2022. 30cm x 60cm (12” x 24”). Rust dyeing, indigo shibori, cyanotype printing, painted papers, hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, cotton, silk, paper, cotton embroidery floss.
April Sproule, Home, A Sense of Place (detail), 2022. 30cm x 60cm (12″ x 24″). Rust dyeing, indigo shibori, cyanotype printing, painted papers, hand appliqué and embroidery. Linen, cotton, silk, paper, stranded cotton embroidery threads.
April Sproule
April Sproule in her studio

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Sue Stone: Stitching stories https://www.textileartist.org/sue-stone-interview/ https://www.textileartist.org/sue-stone-interview/#respond Thu, 06 Nov 2025 18:17:33 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/sue-stone-interview-2/ Always interested in taking a narrative approach, Sue Stone’s artworks are often connected to subjects found in her own life and environment. Her work weaves together threads of memory and figures from the past or present, linking them with real and imagined journeys. 

The stitched surroundings in which Sue carefully places her figures add a hint of mystery or surreal humour. And through her distinctive use of mark-making, free machine embroidery and mixed media, her characters come to life.

Sue’s career as an artist is one of discovery: learning how to harness the expressive potential of thread, experimenting with materials and gradually shaping the unique style that she’s known for. Find out how Sue’s love of textiles developed from an early age and discover her journey to becoming the renowned artist she is today.

Embroidered artwork depicting a girl with Brooklyn symbols behind her
Sue Stone, A Grimsby Girl’s World Tour Stopover Brooklyn, 2022. 30cm x 40cm (12″ x 16″). Hand stitch and appliqué. Cotton and linen threads on linen and recycled fabrics.

Surreal narratives

How would you describe your work?

Sue Stone: I am best known for figurative, textural, stitched compositions which often suggest journeys through life, shaped by memory, observation and imagination. 

We all need light and shade in our lives, so my work continues to swing from the serious to a slightly surreal sense of humour whenever it needs to. 

The techniques I use during the making process are straightforward; a deliberately limited colour palette and a small vocabulary of hand embroidery stitches combined with machine stitch, appliqué and sometimes acrylic paint.

Three figures seated with artistic background.
Sue Stone, A Glimpse of Calm Amidst the Chaos, 2024. 38cm x 51cm (15″ x 20″). Hand stitch, free machine stitch. Cotton and wool threads, cotton/linen background, applied recycled cotton lawn clothing fabrics. 
Figures surrounded by abstract, expressive faces.
Sue Stone, The Stuff of Nightmares, 2024. 38cm x 51cm (15″ x 20″). Hand stitch and free machine stitch. Cotton and wool threads, cotton/linen background, applied recycled cotton lawn clothing fabrics.

Recurring themes

Tell us about the stories behind your work…

Nearly all my work fits into one of my recurring themes. My two works created for the Broderers’ exhibition The Art of Embroidery, held at Bankside Gallery, London in 2025, hold messages around mental health, the innocent victims of turbulent times and the state of the world today.

I returned to pure hand and machine stitch for these two pieces. The only criterion for the exhibition was to use hand embroidery or machine embroidery or a combination of the two. 

A Glimpse of Calm Amidst the Chaos contrasts a 1940s family’s air of innocence with the turmoil around them. The work invites viewers to consider how much – or how little – the world has truly changed between the 1940s and the present day.

The Stuff of Nightmares evokes conflict, loss and chaos through layered textures, confronting viewers with haunting truths while revealing humanity’s fragility and resilience.

What I learned from these two works was that it’s hard not to reach for the paintbrush when you are used to the freedom of mixed media, but I really enjoyed the challenge of sticking to appliqué to add colour to the background. 

Textile arti piece depicting children standing by a graffitied brick wall.
Sue Stone, The Unknown Statistic, 2014. 100cm x 70cm (39″ x 28″). Hand and machine embroidery, painting. Cotton/linen fabric, cotton threads, fabric, acrylic paints.
Artist Sue Stone using a tool for creation.
Sue Stone in her studio 

Evolving ideas

Would you share a little about your process?

Most of my work evolves during a long, slow period with major pieces taking months, or even years, to come to fruition. There’s a lot of thinking, gathering images and sometimes making drawings. As I begin to develop an artwork, it often starts life on a computer screen. The computer helps me to experiment and save time; I can reduce a composition to a simple line drawing and print it out.

Other times, I’ll develop samples during the research stages of a project and often those become part of a final composition.

Then comes the exciting part, starting the stitching. My stitched drawings are done using free machine embroidery or hand stitch. And I use hand stitching to add details, pattern and texture.

Artistic sketches and notes in journal.
Sue Stone, Sketchbook planning for I Am Me, 2016. 
Colourful embroidered figure on fabric with hair in curlers and cigarette in mouth.
Sue Stone, I Am Me (detail), 2017. One of 12 self-portraits, each 28cm x 36cm (11″ x 14″). Hand and machine stitch, appliqué. Recycled clothing cotton fabric on linen.

Sketchbooks & samplers

How do you plan your work?

I use a sketchbook to record thoughts, images and ideas, as well as for drawing. Drawing becomes a means of problem-solving as well as a way to express ideas on paper. A sketchbook is also useful for working out colour schemes and making notes of fabrics and suppliers. And it’s the perfect place to store small stitched samplers that can be used or referred to in the future.

I sometimes show my sketchbooks alongside my finished work. Most people are interested to see the process behind the finished piece, and I hope it encourages others not to be too precious about the contents – a sketchbook is only a means to an end.

Textile art piece with three figures in vintage clothing walking in front of graffitied wall.
Sue Stone, Some Things Never Change, 2012. 60cm x 125 cm (23″ x 49″). Hand and machine stitch, acrylic paint, appliqué. Window cleaning linen, applied recycled shirting.

I enjoy exploring displacement, a sense of belonging or not belonging…

Sue Stone, Textile artist

Search out the unexpected

What inspires your work?

I look for the out-of-place, the unexpected and the bizarre. I am an avid photographer and use my photos to create a constant visual record, both at home and on my travels.

I enjoy exploring displacement, a sense of belonging or not belonging, often by taking figures from old family photographs and juxtaposed into a modern day scene such as beside the work of street artists in London’s East End.

Colourful textile art with embroidered figure.
Sue Stone, Self Portrait 72, 2025. 26cm x 30 cm (10″ x 12″). Hand & machine stitch, painting. Acrylic paint, cotton threads on cotton/linen background. 
Textile portrait of a artist Sue Stone with arrows.
Sue Stone, Self Portrait No 67, 2020, 26cm x 30cm (10″ x 12″). Hand stitch, appliqué, painting. Recycled linen and cotton clothing fabrics, cotton and linen threads, acrylic paint.

A life story in portraits 

Tell us about your long-running self-portrait series… 

A Life Story began in 2015 when I was invited by my former tutor and mentor, Alf Ludlam, to create an unusual self-portrait for an exhibition at Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre. With a six-metre wall to fill, I decided to make one portrait for each year of my life – then 63 in total.

My original plan was to pare everything back to simple line drawings, but my instinct for detail soon took over. By the exhibition deadline I had completed 42 portraits, each measuring 26cm x 30cm (10″ x12″), which were shown as a work-in-progress. I finished all 63 in 2016 and exhibited them at the Knitting & Stitching Shows in London, Dublin and Harrogate, before showing them again at several other venues. 

Finding reference material for some portraits was difficult. My Dad’s photographs helped with early years, but many portraits came from memory, often sparked by clothes and hairstyles I remembered wearing. 

For me, A Life Story has become a companion as much as a body of work. It is a stitched autobiography, a record of who I have been and who I continue to become. It is flawed, imperfect, and unfinished – just like life itself. And as long as I can, I will keep stitching, adding one portrait at a time to the story of a life.

Textile artworks featuring stylised human figures on display in a gallery.
Sue Stone, Self portraits on display at The Ropewalk, Barton upon Humber, UK
Artistic textile self-portrait with necklace detail.
Sue Stone, Self Portrait 66, 2019. 26cm x 30 cm (10″ x 12″). Hand stitch, appliqué, painting. Recycled linen and cotton clothing fabrics, cotton and linen threads, acrylic paint.
Textile art piece showing mother holding child, seated together.
Sue Stone, Self Portrait 27, 2015. 26cm x 30cm (10″ x 12″). Hand stitch, appliqué, painting. Recycled linen and cotton clothing fabrics, cotton and linen threads, acrylic paint.

A Life Story is a stitched autobiography, a record of who I have been and who I continue to become.”

Sue Stone, Textile artist

Art & family

Who were your early influences?

My earliest influences were my Dad who gave me my work ethic and the determination to succeed and my Mum, who was a tailoress. She taught me to use her Singer treadle sewing machine at about the age of six. From a very early age all I ever wanted to do was design and make clothes, first for my dolls and then for myself.

Mum was unfaltering in her support when I wanted to study at art school during a period when ‘grammar school girls didn’t really do that sort of thing’. My Dad was a Grimsby fish merchant during the 1950s and 1960s.

My art always has a connection to my own life or environment. This might be family and friends, time spent in London and on my travels, both at home and abroad, or something I’ve heard or experienced.

Textile art showcasing fashion and design.
Sue Stone, Made in Grimsby, 2021. 149cm x 87cm (58″ x 34″). Hand and machine stitch, appliqué, piecing and drawing. Linen and recycled fabrics, cotton and linen threads.

Embroidery as art

What was your route to becoming an artist?

In the 1970s, I studied fashion at St Martin’s School of Art (now UAL Central St Martins) and then textiles and embroidery at Goldsmiths College in London (now Goldsmiths, University of London), where I was taught by the pioneer textile artists Constance Howard, Christine Risley, and Eirian Short.

Constance Howard was a small charismatic person with bright green hair and the first time I met her she introduced herself as Mrs Parker. I had no idea who she was at the time, or of her importance in establishing textiles as an art form in the 20th century. She was just Mrs P, an inspiration to all her students who gave me my lifelong love of stitching.

Christine Risley was an inspirational teacher who taught machine embroidery and opened my eyes to the versatility of the sewing machine and the spontaneity you can get with free machine stitch.

Eirian Short introduced me to the 62 Group of Textile Artists in 1975, when I was first a member for a few years until other commitments got in the way of my stitching.

After art college I went into business and made a living from designing womenswear for 28 years. But I always knew I would return to stitching eventually, which I did in 2002 at the age of 50.

Intricate embroidery on textured fabric.
Sue Stone, Stitch books (detail), 2017. Hand stitch. Linen fabric, cotton and linen threads.
Embroidered woman pondering direction choices.
Sue Stone, Which Way Now? (detail), 2020. 59cm x 132cm (23″ x 52″). Hand stitch, free machine stitch, appliqué, painting. Linen and cotton fabric, linen and cotton threads, acrylic paint.

Telling textured stories

How has your work evolved over time? 

When I returned to stitching in 2002, my work was purely decorative and mainly abstract. I eventually came to figurative, narrative work in 2005 when I made my first self-portraits. I got there via artworks featuring historic tiles, gargoyles and landscapes. My work soon became more figurative, humorous and surreal. 

In more recent years I have experimented with scale and different ways to present my work, like wall hangings, modular work, assemblages and stretched work.

Embroidered art piece of a woman holding large fish outside house.
Sue Stone, Woman with Fish, 2009. 91cm x 122cm (36″ x 48″). Hand stitch, machine stitch, appliqué. Recycled fabrics, threads.
Textile art piece of women walking near a brick wall.
Sue Stone, Are We Nearly There Yet?, 2022. 38cm x 31cm (12″ x 15″). Hand stitch, machine stitch, appliqué, painting. Linen and cotton fabrics, cotton and linen threads, acrylic paint.

Which direction would you like to explore in the future? 

In the future, I will definitely continue telling my stories and experiment with the layering of stitch and paint, which is a constant balancing act. I’ll use these simple techniques to find even more texture and pattern. I would also like to investigate using small stitched elements on larger soft backdrops. Maybe they will be easier to ship to exhibitions!

Three figures in a textured background.
Sue Stone, Portrait of a Grimsby Girl, 2014. 76cm x 56cm (30″ x 22″). Hand and machine embroidery, painting. Cotton/linen fabric, cotton threads, acrylic paint.

Nothing is impossible

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

Be true to yourself and use your own voice to say what you want to say.

Always strive to make your next piece better than your last. If you falter, turn up the next day and try again!

Be determined and persistent, and always remember my Dad’s maxim:  ‘Nothing is impossible, the impossible just takes a bit longer’.

Textile artist Sue Stone drawing on paper with pen.
Sue Stone in her studio

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Wendy Dolan: Dynamic dimensions https://www.textileartist.org/wendy-dolan-dynamic-dimensions/ https://www.textileartist.org/wendy-dolan-dynamic-dimensions/#respond Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=22227 Texture and dimension are signature elements of textile art. Raised stitchwork and manipulated fabrics can create visual depth in remarkable ways.

But Wendy Dolan pushes graphic dimension even further by adding print, paint and three-dimensional mediums to her layered fabrics. Stucco walls, mossy trees and crushed stones stand proud in fascinating fashion. Heavy stitching by hand and machine add further depth and movement. 

Wendy is offering a look into her techniques and favourite materials, including heat-activated ‘puffing’ media. You’ll also learn how tissue paper and packaging materials can create incredible textures.

Enjoy exploring Wendy’s world where surface treatment is literally taken to new heights.

Textile art image of a chapel window.
Wendy Dolan, Parc Guell Chapel Window (detail), 2016. 30cm x 25cm (12″ x 10″). Layered fabrics, painting, block printing, stencilling, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, cotton scrim, coloured organza.

A map of London

My earliest memories of creating with fabrics was making clothes for my dolls when I was eight or nine years old. My mother always knitted and made clothes for the family, so I started to also make garments for myself. 

I created my first embroidered work when I was 11. There was a small wool and haberdashery shop in the village that sold iron-on transfers. We purchased a design depicting a map of London and various UK emblems. That project started my lifetime love of stitch and textiles, and I still have the finished piece. A family friend noticed my interest in stitching and taught me many traditional hand embroidery techniques. 

A fabric painting of flowers
Wendy Dolan, In the Pink, 2024. 45cm x 45cm (18″ x 18″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, lace.
Textile artwork of Brighton
Wendy Dolan, Around Brighton, 2019. 50cm x 50cm (20″ x 20″). Layered fabrics, transfer printing, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil.

Discovering textile techniques

While studying at school for my A level, the new art teacher encouraged me to take embroidery for one of the papers. She was so supportive, taking me to London to see embroidery exhibitions while helping me develop my design work in school. I shall always be grateful for her help and encouragement.

Having decided to pursue a career in teaching, I chose a BEd course which offered Art and Textiles as a core subject. That opened a whole new world of textile techniques, including freehand machine embroidery, fabric painting, printing, machine knitting and weaving. 

I soon realised I could achieve exciting textures and effects by combining a wide range of approaches, and I haven’t looked back since!

Wendy Dolan, freehand machine stitching in her studio
Wendy Dolan, freehand machine stitching

Places, maps & journeys

My inspiration comes from a variety of sources, including architecture, the landscape, still life, and maps and journeys.

I use my camera to capture images, and I record my ideas in a sketchbook. I combine pen and ink, watercolour and torn paper collage to develop my ideas and designs. I also create a torn paper collage for my colour scheme that I can use as a reference for printing and painting.

I begin a piece by exploring the design element, then experimenting with different materials. 

When I’ve finalised the proportions, I select and layer my fabrics to build up the design. I choose fabrics with contrasting textures and tones and tear them to add interest to the surface. If my design is architectural, I first transfer the image onto tracing paper, so I can see where I’m placing the fabrics.

I machine stitch the layers down using cotton thread, and then I add hand stitching and three-dimensional media if it’s appropriate. 

Once my surface design is prepared, I apply colour by painting and printing. Hand and machine stitch allow me to work further into the piece, making marks and textures with coloured thread. Sometimes I work intuitively and use the texture of a particular fabric to develop an idea. 

Textile artwork of a map of the Downs
Wendy Dolan, Mapping the Downs, 2019. 70cm x 35cm (28″ x 14″). Layered fabrics, transfer printing, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, cotton batting. 

“Very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results.”

Wendy Dolan, Textile artist

Inked textures

The pigments I use are screen printing inks. I prefer the brand Sericol and have been using it for more than 45 years. I was introduced to Sericol pigments during my degree course, and I find them extremely versatile. They have a thick consistency that can be used for block printing, stenciling, mono printing, screen printing and applying with a palette knife.

The thickness of the inks gives me greater control when I apply them to my built-up designs. But because they are water-based, they can also be diluted with water and applied with a brush to create water colour effects. 

When working with the inks, I usually plan the process and have a good idea of the outcome. But I always keep an open mind and I’m happy to redirect my thoughts as I progress. It’s an exciting way to work, as very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results. 

Textile artwork of Brighton made with various techniques.
Wendy Dolan, Brighton on the Map, 2016. 60cm x 30cm (24″ x 12″). Layered fabrics, transfer printing, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, cotton batting.
Textile Art work of images from Brighton
Wendy Dolan, Progression (detail), 2024. 75cm x 30cm (30″ x 12″). Layered fabrics, painting, block printing, freehand machine and hand stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, lace.

Tools of the trade

I use a ceramic tile and a palette knife to mix my inks. For printing and mark making on fabric, I use a variety of wooden printing blocks, handmade printing blocks, sponges and stencils. I’ll also sometimes use household items such as packaging, bubble wrap and corrugated card. 

I apply colour using a sponge and lightly dab the block’s surface. Then I place the fabric on top of a padded surface to produce clear results when printing. A piece of thin foam or some newspaper is sufficient.

I make sure my fabrics are pre-washed to remove any dressing before creating any design. Some fabrics may soak up more colour than others, so I also always experiment with colour application before constructing a piece.

When I apply colour with a brush, I find it is easier to spray the surface lightly with water first. Printing is added after I’m done painting.

Textile artwork of Kilpeck Church, Herefordshire
Wendy Dolan, Kilpeck Church, Herefordshire, 2016. 80cm x 50cm (31″ x 20″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton scrim, tissue paper, Expandit. 

Adding dimension

I enjoy working with Xpandaprint (also sold as Expandit) to create texture and dimension. It’s a thick non-toxic medium that can be applied with a brush, roller or sponge. It expands when heated and then can be painted. I often use it to represent textured surfaces, such as crumbly walls, moss and lichen. 

Occasionally, I use modelling paste. I apply it thinly with a sponge or through a stencil. It creates interesting resist effects when painted. 

Incorporating tissue paper can also create interesting surface textures. I scrunch the paper in my hands and then tear it into small pieces. Then, I fuse the crumpled paper to fabric using Bondaweb or similar iron-on fusible. Finally, I paint the surface for further effect. 

I used this technique to create a crumbling wall texture in Kilpeck Church, adding cotton scrim for additional texture.

A variety of foam and Tyvek packaging can be useful; I distort them with heat to create exciting effects. For this, I always wear a mask and work outside or in a well-ventilated space, as some of those materials may give off fumes.

Textile artwork of a Venetian Window
Wendy Dolan, Venetian Window, 2015. 30cm x 25cm (12″ x 10″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, silk noil, lace, Expandit. 
Close up textile artwork of a Venetian window.
Wendy Dolan, Venetian Window (detail), 2015. 30cm x 25cm (12″ x 10″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, silk noil, lace, Expandit. 

Fabric choices

I prefer using natural fabrics in my art. Calico is my preferred base fabric, and then I’ll select a wide variety of cottons, silks, linens, muslins, scrims, lace and trimmings. 

I source most of my fabrics from Whaleys Bradford Ltd., but I also try to use vintage and recycled fabrics whenever I can. Searching charity shops and markets often yields some interesting finds. 

I always use freehand machine stitching to attach my initial layers of fabric. I prefer to use a short stitch length which looks more like a sketchy line. When building up the design, I use my machine like a pencil to create line, form and areas of stitched texture. Madeira 40 rayon thread is my favourite. 

Textile artwork of scenery
Wendy Dolan, On the Ridge, 2019. 40cm x 25cm (16″ x 10″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine and hand stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, cotton batting, Expandit.

Mark making threads

Even though I print and paint on my fabrics, they remain surprisingly soft once I set the inks with an iron. Stitching is rarely a problem, but I’m always aware of how many layers of fabric will move freely beneath the darning foot. 

I use hand stitching to produce isolated marks. I like to use a variety of thread weights depending on the effect I want to create. I have a wide selection from which to choose, including cotton perlé, fine wools, stranded cotton and silk yarns. 

For hand stitching I prefer simple stitches, such as seeding, random cross stitch, running and couching. But I mostly stitch for the best effect rather than concentrating on specific stitches. 

Textile artwork of London on the map
Wendy Dolan, London on the Map, 2015. 135cm x 80cm (53″ x 31″). Layered fabrics, transfer printing, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil

London on the map

My series called A Sense of Place is inspired by places and my journeys. London on the Map incorporates iconic buildings and structures in London. The fabric map depicts central London with the River Thames running through. 

Working with my inkjet printer, I first treated the fabric with a BubbleJet 2000 solution. Once dry, I ironed it onto freezer paper and then passed it through the printer. 

I used a smooth cotton fabric and placed masking tape over the top edge of the fabric to help it feed smoothly. Keeping the fabrics neutral allowed the colour to come from the map and the applied stitching. The images are stitched with freehand machine embroidery. 

Textile artwork using various techniques of the Downs
Wendy Dolan, Across the Downs, 2014. 50cm x 38cm (20″ x 15″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, linen, horticultural fleece. 

Across the Downs

Living in Sussex close to the South Downs, I find the rolling hills an ideal source of inspiration. Field poppies are often in abundance on the chalk downlands where they create stunning natural displays. I find the contrasting colours within the landscapes very alluring.

In Across the Downs, I layered and stitched natural fabrics before painting them with water-based inks. Normally, when I use my sketchbook to experiment with different colour combinations, the design can become quite abstract. But for this design, I chose to use a more representational colour palette.

The clouds were created by fusing pieces of horticultural fleece onto my white background. That created a resist effect when I painted on top. I sponged colour across the skyline to add a soft, atmospheric backdrop. Then I stitched into the piece to create the trees and introduce texture and depth. 

Textile artwork of the Royal Pavilion Brighton
Wendy Dolan, Royal Pavilion Brighton, 2018. 28cm x 28cm (11″ x 11″). Layered fabrics, painting, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, silk noil, linen. 
Textile Artist Wendy Dolan preparing paint in her studio
Wendy Dolan preparing paint

Royal Pavilion

Architecture has always interested me, and I’m constantly taking photos of doors, windows, carvings and crumbly textured surfaces. 

The Royal Pavilion in Brighton is especially fascinating because of its eclectic style. The juxtaposition of domes, scalloped arches and intricate stucco work makes it a wonderful resource for exploring patterns and form. 

In Royal Pavilion Brighton, I pieced, layered and stitched down calico, cotton silk noil and linen fabrics to create a balance of shapes, texture and tone. Additional surface texture was added using Xpandaprint. 

I applied paint and then stitched the outline of the pavilion with dark blue thread. For architectural designs, I tend to trace the image onto Stitch ‘n Tear stabiliser and then stitch from the reverse side with dark thread. 

Textile artwork using various techniques of Arches.
Wendy Dolan, Aspiring Arches (detail), 2000. 8.2m x 3.2m (27′ x 10′). Layered fabrics, painting, stencilling, freehand machine stitching. Calico, cotton, linen.

Stitch club workshop

My Stitch Club workshop connects with my love of architecture. Members create a doorway scene that starts with layers of fabric. A paper collage is used to formulate the colour scheme, before they paint the background and stitch the design. Because they’ll be working with a variety of fabrics, interesting effects can be created.

They will also learn a unique reverse stitch transfer method that avoids the use of fabric markers. 

I’m eager for members to have fun, learn some new skills, and experiment with layering, painting and stitching techniques. I’m especially hopeful they’ll find the techniques useful in developing their own creative journeys. 

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Cheryl Rezendes: Quiet conversations https://www.textileartist.org/cheryl-rezendes-quiet-conversations/ https://www.textileartist.org/cheryl-rezendes-quiet-conversations/#respond Sun, 17 Aug 2025 20:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=21286 In her garden studio, Cheryl Rezendes isn’t just making art, she’s having a quiet conversation with fabric and colour as she responds to the rhythm of creating, whether it’s cutting, stitching, gluing or painting. 

Cheryl is inspired by the natural world, colour, light and her emotional well-being. She spends hours crafting the collage materials for her art quilts and textile pieces. 

There’s no roadmap and no rules or fixed ideas about colour, subject or form. She works by instinct, letting go of expectations and following where the work leads. The best ideas arise from process, she says. 

For Cheryl, it’s the act of creating – the spontaneous dance of colour and line – that fuels her. Through this intuitive process, she channels love, loss and connection, transforming deeply personal moments into something universal.

Image of Grasslands, created with monoprinting, direct painting & hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Through the Grasslands, 2024. 46cm x 36cm (18″ x 14″). Monoprinting, direct painting, hand stitch. Moldable batting on linen, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 
Trees created through monoprinting, machine quilting & stamping.
Cheryl Rezendes, Finding Joy Under the Jewel Trees #2, 2024. 152cm x 98cm (60″ x 38½”).   Monoprinting, digital reproductions of artist’s monoprints, machine quilting, stamping. Fabric, textile paint, thread. 

Cheryl Rezendes: I am a fine artist; textiles just happen to be the canvas that I paint on. Machine and hand stitching are my pencil and pens. Thread is the ink and graphite.

I am inspired by the natural world. My large studio is situated in my garden. It’s filled with natural light giving me a view of the gardens and the woods. I’m surrounded by 40 acres of woodland.

I have lived here for almost 35 years and I’m still enthralled by all that I see and hear. It’s a place of refuge as well as a place of creativity. However, a trip to the city offers a vast array of visual inspiration as well. 

“There is always so much to see and absorb in whatever world I am walking through.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist
Cheryl Rezendes in her garden
Cheryl Rezendes in her garden

Being inspired

I am always inspired by the work of any artist, be it textile, painting or even pottery. It is all fodder for my creative self and making new work. 

Recently, my partner and I have started painting together. He is a potter and graphic designer. We work on large pieces of paper that measure approximately 150cm x 100cm (60″ x 40″). We paint and make marks very differently from each other. Just watching what he does, how he does it and how we bring both our skills together is incredibly inspiring.

I might help inspiration along by giving myself a challenge, such as to photograph all the lines that I see. It is amazing what can become a line if you are looking for them: a railing, the side of a building, a stacked pile of sticks and the edge of my dog’s kibble, to name but a few.

A combination of direct painting, collage, hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Through a Thousand Dreams, 2012. 30cm x 33cm (12″ x 13″). Direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Fabric, textile paint, thread, beads. 

Creating my materials

I create my own collage materials. Usually I start by painting large pieces of white fabric using direct painting methods. But I might also stamp and stencil my own designs on to the fabric. 

I’ll also draw on the cloth and create monoprints. This is done without any intention of what they will look like or be used for. 

Sometimes I’ll digitally print one of my photographs onto cloth using my wide format Epsom printer. 

The pieces of fabric that I create in these ways will often coordinate or speak to each other – a visual conversation, if you will. I get inspired to use them together. These images are fused and/or stitched into the larger piece. As I work, I will be constantly hanging these pieces up on my design wall.  

“By viewing my work on a design wall, I’m auditioning them together, as well as getting inspired by the cloth and the work process itself.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 
Textile Artist Cheryl Rezendes cutting fabric in her studio
Cheryl Rezendes cutting fabric in her studio
Behind a waterfall made with monoprinting, direct painting, collage & hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Behind the Waterfall, 2025. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 

“My process for creating art is intuitive and based on discovery.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Call & response

I don’t have a favourite colour palette that I return to again and again. Instead, I use colours that, for whatever reason, speak to me at any given time. 

I then follow the piece along: asking what is needed from a design standpoint and then responding. I teach these concepts in my Stitch Club workshop. 

Because of the way that I create my textiles, my work is visually very painterly. Sometimes the finished pieces are statements of beauty and elegance, and at other times they are filled with raw emotion.

“I often don’t know what the pieces are about until they are finished.” 

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 
A close up of direct painting, monoprinting, collage, machine stitch and hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Turbulent Mind, 2022. 33cm x 56cm (13″ x 22″). Direct painting, monoprinting, collage, machine stitch and hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, textile paint, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 

Finding meaning

The collection I made on care-giving was created that way.  It featured fifteen art quilts that were inspired by the eight years I spent as care-giver for my mother who had Alzheimer’s Disease and for my late husband who had Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. 

During those years I seemed to be drawn to dark colours, particularly brown, black and grey. Even as abstract pieces, the work seemed very emotional. They weren’t pretty. They were dark. 

At some point in the process of making those pieces I started to ask myself, “Okay. What are all these about, anyway?” 

I showed them to fellow artists to get their take. The resounding answer was that this collection of work was particularly sad and spoke to the anguish and grief I was feeling. Then the titles were born.

Coincidently, or not, when the show was completed my grieving process for the loss of those two people whom I had loved was completed as well.

A close up of fading memories made using monoprinting, collage & machine stitch techniques.
Cheryl Rezendes, Fading Memories, 2023. 121cm x 105cm (47½” x 41½”). Monoprinting, collage, machine stitch. Fabric, acrylic paint, digital reproductions, ribbon on cloth. 
A collaboration of direct painting, monoprinting, stamping, machine stitch and hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, As You Once Were, 2022. 102cm x 48cm (40″ x 19″). Direct painting, monoprinting, stamping, machine stitch and hand stitch. Fabric, textile paint, acrylic paint, yarn. 

Teaching intuitively

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share my process for creating intuitively. I highlight creating monoprints on cloth then used hand stitching as both a design and drawing tool. I introduce some collage work as well.  

My hope is that students come away with the skills to create monoprints and hand stitching but also that they understand that they can have a personal and unique visual voice. 

The inherent combination of spontaneity and discovery in the creation of one-of-a-kind prints lends itself well to this concept.

Cheryl Rezendes working on a book in her studio
Cheryl Rezendes in her studio

Cultivating curiosity

I encourage you to be open to the creating process, particularly self-discovery and the spontaneous.

Try to see what is happening in front of you rather than always seeing what you haven’t done. Often our intention doesn’t come through, but what we have actually created can be, and usually is, better! 

Imagine you are seeing the world for the first time. Drive or walk down your road and imagine what it would look like to someone who has never travelled that route before. You’ll find things you never saw.

Experiment with new supplies and different processes rather than just staying with what you’re already comfortable with. 

I may be formally trained but as a consequence, I have to work really hard at putting that training aside so I can be in discovery mode. Sometimes I’ll paint and draw with my non-dominant hand or cut collage pieces randomly. 

“I’ll do anything that helps me embrace discovery again.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 
Monoprinting, direct painting, machine piecing, hand stitch. Fabric, textile paint, acryli
Cheryl Rezendes, Dream Dancing, 2022. 28cm x 122cm (11″ x 48″). Monoprinting, direct painting, machine piecing, hand stitch. Fabric, textile paint, acrylic paint, thread.

Nurturing creativity

I had the great fortune of growing up with parents who supported my creative spirit from an early age. 

They provided me with sketchbooks, paint and composition books. My mother had an interior design business, so I was exposed to beautiful fabrics, wallpaper and design books.

We lived just a two-hour train ride from New York City so we regularly visited the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim. That early exposure to the work of contemporary artists was a spring board for me becoming a professional artist. 

Summer Heat created using monoprinting, direct painting, collage & hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Summer Heat, 2025. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, acrylic paint, embroidery floss.
Blue and yellow monoprinting, direct painting, collage & hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Untitled 3, 2025. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 

Learning to see

In my late teens, I went to The School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, MA where I studied painting and drawing for four years. As an artist, this was the most influential time in my life. 

At the time I attended, the school was a department of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. This enabled me to have free access to the museum whenever I wanted and I was able to spend as much time with any given painting that I happened to be inspired by. I was also part of a course that allowed students to choose a painting from the museum’s archives that we wanted to study. 

The artwork would be delivered to a special classroom located on the top floor of the museum where I could make copies either by painting or drawing. That experience taught me an array of important skills that I would later use to observe and truly see the work of other artists and the world around me.

Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch
Cheryl Rezendes, Untitled 4 (detail), 2025. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 

Supporting textiles

My mother exposed me to beautiful textiles as a child. She also taught me how to sew. 

After art school I made my living as a stitcher while doing my artwork in the evenings. I quickly became very skilled. I worked for a designer making elegant evening wear. I made costumes for a shop that supplied musical and theatrical events and I also created costumes for live action 3D animations. 

Later, after moving to western Massachusetts and while raising my boys, I made custom wedding gowns using antique textiles and lace. I continued to paint, draw and do collage work and was represented by a few galleries. 

At some point I became familiar with digital printing on cloth. I became intrigued with printing images of my paintings and collages on cloth. I couldn’t help but use those to collage as well. 

My work continued to grow and, in 2013, my book Fabric Surface Design (Workman Publishing) was published. It features over 80 techniques for putting imagery on fabric using textile paints. 

“Life has presented many challenges to me, but I’ve painted and drawn my way through them, even if I could only work in my sketchbook.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist
Artwork made with a combination of Monoprinting, direct painting, collage & hand stitch.
Cheryl Rezendes, Untitled 2, 2025. 30cm x 23cm (12″ x 9″). Monoprinting, direct painting, collage, hand stitch. Cotton sateen fabric, acrylic paint, embroidery floss. 
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Emily Tull: Thread painter https://www.textileartist.org/emily-tull-from-paint-to-stitch/ https://www.textileartist.org/emily-tull-from-paint-to-stitch/#comments Fri, 28 Feb 2025 16:48:15 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/emily-tull-from-paint-to-stitch/ Emily Tull made a bold leap from oil painting to textile art. Frustrated with painting, she traded her palette knife for a needle and thread, discovering a new way to express herself. 

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.

A stitched artwork of a woman's face and birds
Emily Tull, And She Moves Among the Sparrows, 2022. 50cm x 40cm (20″ x 16″). Hand embroidery. Cotton, vintage silk, threads.

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
A bird with wings spread and eyes drawn on fabric
Emily Tull, And She Moves Among the Sparrows (detail), 2022. 50cm x 40cm (20″ x 16″). Hand embroidery. Cotton and vintage silk, threads.

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.

A piece of fabric with a stitched artwork of a woman with a sardine patterned background
Emily Tull, Woman with a Fish, 2021. 30cm x 30cm (12″ x 12″). Hand embroidery. Hessian, muslin, cotton twill, furnishing fabric, threads.
A close up of a thread painting of a face
Emily Tull, The Left Behinds, 2023. 30cm x 30cm (12″ x 12″). Hand embroidery. Flocked fabric, muslin, threads, wax-coated cotton. 

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
A thread painting of a man's face covered in bees.
Emily Tull, The Wasp Nests in Your Head, 2023. 30cm x 30cm (12″ x 12″). Hand embroidery. Canvas, silk, threads.

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
A close up image of a thread painting of a man's face
Emily Tull, (May I Still) Meet My Memory in So Lonely a Place (detail), 2021. 35cm x 35cm (15″ x 15″). Hand embroidery. Mesh, threads, faded linen skirt. 35cm x 25cm (15″ x 15″). Hand embroidery. Mesh, threads, faded linen skirt.

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
a close up of a piece of plastic
Emily Tull, Tangled, 2018. 30cm x 12cm (12″ x 5″). Hand embroidery. Plastic packaging, thread. 

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. 

a bird embroidery on a white surface
Emily Tull, It Takes Two – Blackbirds, 2024. 25cm x 25cm (10″ x 10″). Hand embroidery. Cotton, mesh, threads, waterproof jacket lining. 
A stitched sculpture of a pile of yarn 'Ramsgate Mussels'
Emily Tull, A Clump of Ramsgate Mussels, 2020. 24cm x 24cm (9½” x 9½”). Hand embroidery sculpture. Vintage sequins, threads, ceramic tile.

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. 

A close up of an embroidery of a Hedgehog
Emily Tull, Spirit of the Woods – Hedgehog, 2024. 20cm x 15cm (8″ x 6″). Hand embroidery. Gold printed mesh, threads.

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
A close up of a bird of a thread painting of a Red Kite
Emily Tull, Red Kite on Lilac and White, 2020. 18cm x 18cm (7″ x 7″). Hand embroidery. Wallpaper, threads.

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
Emily Tull, at work in her home studio
Emily Tull, at work in her home studio

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.

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Amarjeet K. Nandhra: Finding identity through stitch https://www.textileartist.org/amarjeet-k-nandhra-finding-identity-through-stitch/ https://www.textileartist.org/amarjeet-k-nandhra-finding-identity-through-stitch/#respond Sun, 19 Jan 2025 21:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=18387 The immigrant experience is necessarily challenging: how much does one assimilate while also still maintaining one’s cultural identity?

When Amarjeet K. Nandhra’s family immigrated to the UK from Tanzania, her parents did everything they could to help their children blend into their new setting. They were to adopt Western ways as best possible, including no longer speaking Punjabi at home.

But when Amarjeet was in her 20s, her Indian heritage started calling to her heart. She decided to reclaim her Punjabi language and explore the incredible Indian textile traditions she left behind.

Ultimately, Amarjeet started using modern print techniques and traditional textile methods to express the challenges she faced trying to straddle two cultures. She had grown to love her UK life, but she didn’t want to lose sight of where she came from.

Amarjeet’s practice has led to a larger mission to broaden people’s understanding of traditional Indian textiles. She wants viewers to not only admire their beauty but to also understand the personal and political backdrops each traditional cloth carries.

A close up of a stitched artwork with three fabric strips.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Boundaries, 2022. Each strip is 20cm x 80cm (8″ x 31″). Mono and screen print, shisha work. Canvas, thread.

Aha moment

Amarjeet K. Nandhra: My mother was an incredibly accomplished embroiderer who stitched all our clothes and embroidered household items. But when we came to the UK, she had to work and raise six children, which didn’t allow her any personal time.

Mum never taught me to embroider either, but that was okay, as I was focused on art. I avoided stitching because of its association with domesticity and femininity.

However, whilst studying for an art and design diploma, I felt something was missing. Then a close friend bought me a book about machine embroidery, and that was my ‘aha’ moment. I enrolled in Pam Watts’s machine embroidery course, and I was hooked.

In 1998, I enrolled in a City & Guilds Embroidery Part I class at Harrow Weald College, and I completed Part II in 2001 at Missenden Abbey. I then took an Advanced Textiles Workshop with Gwen Hedley and graduated with distinction in Higher Stitched Textiles Diploma. I also gained First Class Honours in Creative Arts…

“All of that learning helped fill my days and allowed me to navigate some difficult times in my life.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist

I was able to learn from some big names, including Janet Edmonds, Jan Beaney, Jean Littlejohn and Louise Baldwin.

Later, Gwen Hedley asked me to take over teaching in Advanced Textiles, and I also started teaching for the Higher Stitched Textiles diploma alongside gaining my certificate in further education teaching. It was a very busy time for a recently divorced mother of two young children.

Reconnecting to my heritage

Navigating the world of textile art without guidance and support that mirrored my experiences was challenging. My desire to embrace and connect with my Indian heritage was accompanied by complex emotions and expectations of authenticity.

I also lacked confidence as a young artist, and my work was significantly impacted by receiving conflicting feedback from tutors and event organisers…

Some said my pieces were not ‘Indian enough’, while others felt the colours were too ‘ethnic’.

It wasn’t until later in my creative journey that a renewed passion for the colours, patterns and symbolism associated with traditional Indian textiles began to inform my work. I researched the historical patterns and symbols seen in phulkari, Kantha work, embroidery and mirror work.

That exploration prompted a significant shift in my artistic practice. I’m now excited to explore the vibrant and diverse colour combinations and stitches commonly found in Indian textiles.

Passion for phulkari

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

In light of that loss, I wanted to reconnect to textiles from my Indian heritage, especially exploring the traditional patterns and symbols featured in phulkaris. Phulkari is an embroidery technique from the Punjab region – ‘Phul’ means ‘flower’ and ‘kari’ means ‘work’.

“In addition to being beautiful, phulkaris were powerful symbols of Punjabi cultural identity.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist
A stitched artwork of a crowd of people in shadow, walking over a black landscape with gold embellishments.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Displacement, 2018. 80cm x 150cm (31″ x 59″). Screen print and hand stitch. Muslin.

Maps & patterns

Phulkaris were forms of ancestral maps that documented the daily lives and social relationships of the makers. These textiles became visual diaries packed with symbolism and significance.

The patterns of phulkaris have become my palette for sharing my own migration story. One of the traditional motifs I use is the four-faced Kanchan design, featuring triple V-shaped lines repeated in four directions. I also use stylized Mirchi (chilli) rectangle shapes repeated in a cross form. And I use small multicoloured lozenges that mimic Meenakari enamel works.

For my more contemporary responses, I create my own stitch motifs. For example, in Mapping, I used diamond shapes and long blocks to represent fences and borders.

A close up of a black fabric with gold diamond stitched embellishments.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Displacement (detail), 2018. 80cm x 150cm (31″ x 59″). Screen print and hand stitch. Muslin.

Meaning and memory

Indian textiles have a captivating allure that can sometimes lead to a superficial understanding of their significance. So, I encourage viewers to look beyond the beautiful and intricate embroideries and recognise their vital roles in carrying meaning and memory.

“I seek to explore and promote Indian textiles in a broader context.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist

While I’m fascinated with the decorative qualities of Indian textiles, I believe it’s equally important to consider how textiles tell stories about their creators, the history they embody and the memories they hold.

Still, narrative and aesthetic qualities are equally important to my practice. I want to make work that is beautiful as well as thought provoking. Work that celebrates tradition while also creating a relevant and contemporary dialogue.

A black and white stitched artwork with red crosses.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, My Other Colours, 2018. 200cm x 105cm (79″ x 41″). Screen print and hand stitch. Canvas.
A close up of a red and grey stitched artwork
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, My Other Colours (detail), 2018. 200cm x 105cm (79″ x 41″). Screen print and hand stitch. Canvas.

Thought books

I start a project by exploring my thoughts in a book where I draw, write and doodle anything to help generate ideas. I call them ‘thought books’ instead of sketchbooks.

Once I have an idea, I formulate a plan. I begin by drawing out a rough sketch of the piece and decide how to build the layers of print. While I’m careful with my planning, I’m also mindful that the work will evolve and I will adjust accordingly.

I also work with other sketchbooks to experiment with different materials and processes, explore mark making and colour relationships, and build up layers with text and collage. These books don’t always have an end goal.

Amarjeet K. Nandhra in her studio.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra in her studio.

Printing the unexpected

Print has always played a big role in my art since my first job at a print cooperative. We produced banners for trade unions and many social causes. I was struck by the bold designs and repetition of images that could carry a message and communicate a story.

Building up layers is the foundation of my practice. And there is something magical about revealing the print and discovering the unexpected.

But I wasn’t always comfortable with the unexpected. At the print co-op, everything had to be precise and accurate. That led to my work becoming rather dry and boring.

As I became more confident with the processes, I overcame the fear I might spoil something. I realised building up layers was far more interesting and adding more to a work made it look better. I had to practise my practice.

“I love the physicality of printing, the smell of the inks and the sound of ink being spread out using a roller.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist
An abstract stitched artwork of colourful symbols on a white background with black circles.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Symbols, 2023. 50cm x 50cm (20″ x 20″). Screen print, monoprint, appliqué and hand stitch. Canvas, cotton lawn.
A close up of an abstract stitched artwork of colourful symbols on a white background with black circles.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Symbols (detail), 2023. 50cm x 50cm (20″ x 20″). Screen print, mono print, appliqué and hand stitch. Canvas, cotton lawn.

Pigments & dyes

I have used Selectasine fabric binder and eco pigment. And I’ve recently started to explore traditional Indian textile natural dyes such as madder, cutch and indigo.

When I want to remove colour in my print, I use a ready-to-use printing paste that allows me to take away areas of colour from natural fabrics such as cotton, linen, silk and wool.

I’m excited to teach several experimental mono printing approaches in my Stitch Club workshop, where members produce a variety of layered prints using colour, mark making, pattern and texture. These printed fabrics will then be collaged together and embellished with stitch.

Stitch Club members will use the process to create a series of works that are related but also have interesting differences that will engage viewers.

Subjective materials

My fabric choices really depend on the project. I like experimenting with different natural fabrics, as I feel it’s part of the serendipitous nature of printmaking. I don’t like working with synthetic fabrics.

For larger printed and stitched works, I tend to use 7.5-ounce cotton duck or cotton canvas from Whaleys or Wolfin Textiles. For other projects, I might use linen, cotton lawn or organdy.

Most fabrics work well when screen printing as long as they’re pinned to create tension. But for mono printing or collagraphy, fabrics need a smooth surface.

When it comes to hand stitching, I use a combination of silk, cotton perlé and stranded cotton threads. I tend to use running stitch, surface pattern darning and straight stitch. The stitches I choose depend on the project and my response to the subject.

A group of colourful stitched artworks on a white wall
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Mapping – Journeys, 2023. Each piece is 26cm x 21cm (10″ x 8″). Mono print and hand stitch. Cotton.

The complexity of identity

My Other Words is a personal reflection on the dynamics of straddling two cultures and navigating the complex notion of identity. When we arrived in the UK, my father was determined we would ‘fit in’, so we were told not to speak Punjabi at home.

“Growing up and being ‘othered’ impacted my sense of pride for my heritage – keeping invisible was the goal.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist

In my 20s, I decided to speak and embrace Punjabi, and this work connects to that shift.

I used Punjabi text as the foundation of this piece to reflect that reconnection. The text was printed, then erased and then overprinted. The text is complemented by fabric shapes and patterns typically used in phulkari, then emphasised with kantha stitch.

a close-up of colorful fabric
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, My Other Words (detail), 2018. Each strip is 35cm x 40cm (14″ x 16″). Screen print, decolourant, appliqué and hand stitch. Canvas, cotton, threads.

Mapping place and space

Mapping Place and Space uses the concept of phulkari to map and document the maker’s activities. I recorded my movement through urban and natural landscapes.

The background was painted with fabric paint using binder and pigment. This freed me to mix my own colours with reference to my sketchbooks. I then overprinted with mono printing and additional details were added using acrylic markers.

The diamond shapes and bars were a nod to the traditional phulkari patterns and stitches. I originally planned to create one large piece, but I liked the idea of being able to change the sequence and configuration.

I also played around with the idea it could be folded like a paper map.

Amarjeet K. Nandhra in her studio.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra in her studio.

An immigrant’s story

Five Decades is the story of growing up in the UK after moving as a child from Tanzania, Africa. Each scroll represents a decade of my life in England.

It documents the trials and tribulations of living as an immigrant and how an unwelcoming country eventually became home.

Each fabric strip is dyed, painted and printed with carefully selected colours representing each decade’s theme. A range of printing methods, collagraphs, mono and screen printing are used to capture the mix of my painful and joyous memories across those 50 years.

“Every strip contains an image of my mother to represent the substantial influence she had on my life – our strong and special bond has influenced both my life and artistic journey.”

Amarjeet K. Nandhra, Textile artist

Conversations and stories are captured, with the final layer of each scroll binding memories together through kantha stitch.

Various text is featured across the strips. For example, there’s an image of a sticker with the words ‘Fight racism’. I had printed those vinyl stickers when working at a print collective in the 80s and wore them when I attended demonstrations.

The phrase ‘Self Defence is No Offence’ comes from when the National Front decided to hold a meeting in Southall’s town hall. Thousands, mostly Asians, took to the streets in protest against the far right and police brutality.

‘Finding my voice’ represents me finally being seen and finding my visual language. It also expresses the joy textiles have brought to my life.

A row of colourful fabric strips embellished with stitches and patterns and portraits.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, 5 Decades, 2023. 120cm x 180cm (47″ x 71″). Screen print, collagraphs, appliqué, shisha work and hand stitch. Canvas, muslin.
A close up of a stitched artwork embellished with a peace sign and different patterns and stitches.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, 5 Decades (detail), 2023. 120cm x 180cm (47″ x 71″). Screen print, collagraphs, appliqué, shisha work and hand stitch. Canvas, muslin.
A close up of a stitched artwork embellished with a peace sign and different patterns and stitches.
Amarjeet K. Nandhra, 5 Decades (detail), 2023. 120cm x 180cm (47″ x 71″). Screen print, collagraphs, appliqué, shisha work and hand stitch. Canvas, muslin.
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Dijanne Cevaal: Stitched travel stories https://www.textileartist.org/dijanne-cevaal-stitched-travel-stories/ https://www.textileartist.org/dijanne-cevaal-stitched-travel-stories/#comments Sun, 05 Jan 2025 21:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=18093 From humble beginnings to international textile art success, Dijanne Cevaal’s story is an illustration of the power of stitch, print and dye.

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.

A close up of a fabric artwork embroidered with brightly coloured squares and printed designs.
Dijanne Cevaal, Perugia Memories; Traveller’s Blanket (work in progress), 2024. 100cm x 130cm (39″ x 51″). Hand dyeing, hand printing, linocut, hand stitching. Hand dyed linen, hand printed linocut motifs.

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.

Dijanne Cevaal, stitching in her work room at home.
Dijanne Cevaal, stitching in her work room at home.

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.

A close up of an art quilt of an underwater scene: turtles swimming in amongst corals.
Dijanne Cevaal, Sea Creatures II (detail), 2021. 40cm x 60cm (16″ x 24″). Tie dyeing, linocut, hand printing, free motion stitching. Tie dyed silk, textile printing ink, Aurifil Mako 28 cotton thread.

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.

A stitched art quilt of a cross within a square pattern embellished with flowers.
Dijanne Cevaal, Coqueclicot I (positive image), 2022. 80cm x 80cm (31″ x 31″). Hand dyeing, hand cutting, machine appliqué and free motion quilting. Hand dyed cotton, wool batting, Aurifil Mako 28 cotton thread.
A stitched art quilt of a cross within a square pattern embellished with flowers.
Dijanne Cevaal, Coqueclicot II (negative image), 2022. 80cm x 80cm (31″ x 31″). Hand dyeing, hand cutting, machine appliqué and free motion quilting. Hand dyed cotton, wool batting, Aurifil Mako 28 cotton thread.

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.

A close up of a stitched artwork with a medieval inspired portrait.
Dijanne Cevaal, Medieval Concertina Book (detail), 2024. 35cm x 35cm (14″ x 14″). Hand printed, painted with homemade natural ink, hand stitch. Mulberry paper, natural inks, natural printing ink, Fonty linen thread.

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.

A close up of a blue fabric embroidered with colourful circles.
Dijanne Cevaal, Journey Through My Surface Design (detail), 2017-2018. 45cm x 90cm (18″ x 35″). Hand dyeing, hand printing, linocut, hand stitch. Hand dyed khadi cotton, hand printed linocut motifs.
A close up of a stitched artwork with lino-printed motifs in bright colours on a teal background.
Dijanne Cevaal, In the Shadow of Pic St Loup (detail), 2018. 45cm x 9cm (18″ x 4″). Hand dyeing, hand printing, linocut, hand stitching. Hand dyed khadi, hand printed linocut motifs.

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.

A group of colourful stitched 3D artworks objects on a sandy background.
Dijanne Cevaal, Pods, 2021. Each pod is 10cm (4″) diameter. Hand dyed, hand stitch. Hand dyed cotton perlé #8 embroidery thread.

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.

A close up of a collection of stitched fabrics.
Dijanne Cevaal, Explorations Nardoo, 2021. 15cm x 20cm (6″ x 8″). Hand dyeing, hand printing, linocut, hand stitch. Hand dyed khadi, hand printed linocut motifs, paper, tulle.
a close up of a fabric stitched with green foliage on a dark background.
Dijanne Cevaal, Coopers Creek; Nardoo (detail) (finished piece), 2022. 80cm x 120cm (31″ x 47″). Hand dyeing, hand printing, linocut, hand stitch. Hand dyed khadi, hand appliquéd leaves.

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.

A stitched artwork displayed on a pole hanging in the woods.
Dijanne Cevaal, Bush Cloak, 2024. 2m diameter (79″). Hand dyed with natural material, hand printed with homemade printing ink, hand stitch. Cotton, natural dye, natural ink, foliage, Fonty linen thread.

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.

Two stitched artworks hand printed with foliage, side by side with clashing patterns.
Dijanne Cevaal, Bush Walk I & II (detail), 2024. 30cm x 45cm (12″ x 18″). Hand printed with natural ink and foliage, hand coloured. Cotton, natural inks, Fonty linen thread.

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
Dijanne Cevaal printing with materials found in nature.
Dijanne Cevaal printing with materials found in nature.

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
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Rosemary Meza-DesPlas: Life stitching – with hair https://www.textileartist.org/rosemary-meza-desplas-life-stitching-with-hair/ https://www.textileartist.org/rosemary-meza-desplas-life-stitching-with-hair/#comments Sun, 08 Dec 2024 21:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=17685 When you see an artwork stitched with human hair, does it make you want to take a closer look, or does it repulse you?

It’s a dichotomy that Rosemary Meza-DesPlas has often witnessed as visitors peruse her works stitched with her own hair.

Rosemary incorporates fibre art, drawing, installation, painting, performance art and video into her studio practice. But in 2000, prompted by a friend’s suggestion, she started gathering her hair to produce artworks stitched solely in this material. Recent works have intertwined hand-sewn human hair with watercolour, thread, speciality fabric and collage.

Why stitch with hair, you might ask?

Rosemary recognises the relationship between the qualities and symbolism of hair with issues of body image, femininity and identity. Her mother and aunts had migrated from Mexico across the United States as a family of agricultural labourers, and, as Rosemary pondered the hardships they endured, she committed to exploring these feminist issues.

Since then, her artwork has been thematically centred upon women: their narratives, societal challenges and resilience. Hair is the perfect material and the human form the perfect image.

A stitched artwork of a naked woman holding a gun.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Cry, Die or Just Make Pies, 2013. 38cm x 30cm x 5cm (15″ x 12″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human hair, primed watercolour canvas.
A close up image of a stitched artwork of a woman's face. Stitched with human hair.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Cry, Die or Just Make Pies (detail), 2013. 38cm x 30cm x 5cm (15″ x 12″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human hair, primed watercolour canvas.

Experimenting with hair

What made you decide to stitch art using your own hair?

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas: I started working with my hair after an artist friend suggested the line work in my wall drawings correlated to human hair. She equated the scratchy and undulating lines on the wall to the texture of hair.

I became intrigued by the idea of utilising hair in my art and so I spent time experimenting with it. It resulted in trial and error: glueing it to paper was messy and unruly.

I have academic degrees in drawing and painting from the University of North Texas and Maryland Institute College of Art, respectively. When I tried sewing with the hair, I found it allowed me to translate drawing techniques – such as hatching, stippling and cross-hatching – into stitches.

I haven’t been trained in sewing hair – I’m self taught. My mother and aunts learned to sew due to the economic challenges and scarcity of resources. As a child in the 1970s, I wore shorts and shirts made by my mother from Simplicity patterns. But neither my sister nor I were interested in picking up basic sewing skills.

My first few hair artworks were graphite and colour pencil with just a touch of hand-sewn human hair. After becoming more confident with sewing the hair, I’ve created subsequent artworks completely with hand-sewn human hair.

In 2002, I began to embed these artworks into three-layer resin casts. Some recent works have intertwined hand-sewn human hair with watercolour, thread, speciality fabric and collage. Since 2018, I’ve made hand-sewn human hair artworks with my grey hair.

An artwork of a person's face with a smaller person in their mouth. Stitched in human hair.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Just a Small Bite, 2004. 25cm x 25cm (10″ x 10″). Hand stitch. Human hair embedded in a three-layer cast.
A close up of a portrait stitched in human hair.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Just a Small Bite (detail), 2004. 25cm x 25cm (10″ x 10″). Hand stitch. Human hair embedded in a three-layer cast.

The symbolism of hair

Sociologist Rose Weitz published a work called Rapunzel’s Daughters: What Women’s Hair Tells Us about Women’s Lives. She examined the hair’s relationship to sexuality, age, race, social class, health, power and religion.

Hair conveys symbolism in literary works such as the short story The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry, The Rape of the Lock by Alexander Pope and Rapunzel by the Brothers Grimm. There are religious connotations to hair, which coincide with symbolism reflecting strength, sensuality and reverence: Delila cut off Samson’s hair and Mary Magdalene washed the feet of Jesus with her hair.

“I like the dichotomy of using hair. Hair can be sexy and engaging to people; on the other hand, it can be repulsive.”

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Textile artist

Consider finding a hair in your soup or a hair on your hotel pillow. When viewers see the works in person, the imagery beckons the viewer to move in closer. I’ve seen gallery patrons impressed with the technique, yet repulsed by the material.

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.

Repurposed materiality

Transformation of hair into artwork is repurposed materiality. Materiality of hair coincides with feminism at the point it speaks to issues of body image, femininity and identity.

Due to its correlation to material culture, hair may reflect political agency. In 2022, women filmed themselves cutting their hair; ordinary actions became acts of protest. Hair for Freedom showed solidarity with Iranian women and protested the death of Mahsa Amini.

Crafted hair in contemporary artwork can be interpreted as exoticizing women, ritualistic movements, critical gendered commentary or multidimensional stories.

“The materiality of hair coincides with feminism and ethnicity at the point it speaks to issues of body image, femininity and identity.”

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Textile artist
A stitched artwork of a couple kissing.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Peck not Prick, 2014. 65cm x 78.5cm x 5cm (26″ x 31″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human hair, primed watercolour canvas.

Feminist ideology

Tell us how the tenacity of your eight aunts contributed to the feminist ideology that you express in your art…

My mother comes from a family of eleven; eight out of the eleven siblings are women. Her family, originally from Allende, Mexico, travelled across the United States as agricultural labourers. The migratory existence was difficult for the women. Family stories have given me an appreciation and understanding of the hardships they endured as women.

My artwork has been thematically centred upon women: their narratives, societal challenges, and resilience. The female experience within a patriarchal society is one of inequality.

A hand stitched artwork in a frame
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Real Animal, 2008. 32cm x 36cm (13″ x 14″). Hand stitch. Human hair, unprimed canvas.
A close up of a hand-stitched artwork: hair on a fabric
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Real Animal (detail), 2008. 32cm x 36cm (13″ x 14″). Hand stitch. Human hair, unprimed canvas.

From brunette to grey

What were your feelings as you went from brunette to grey, and how did this affect your hair art?

I’ve been collecting my hair daily since 2000. Collection of hair is a ritualistic activity; I gather it by running my fingers through my hair each morning or by accumulating that which falls out during a shower.

There’s a meditative quality to sorting hair as preparatory work. I enjoy the texture of the hair through my fingers. I slide my fingers down its length and create work piles correlating to length.

Over the years, I’ve dyed my hair different shades of brown and red to obtain a greater variety of values and tones. When my hair began to grey, I would dye it. Colouring my hair was an act of vanity. The grey was visual evidence of my ageing process.

“At the point I stopped dyeing my hair, I came to terms with time’s salt and pepper paintbrush.”

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Textile artist

My greying hair became another art material to experiment with in my studio. Incorporating grey hair into my practice involved trial and error; therefore, I began a quest for the appropriate ground fabric. I currently use a black twill fabric. The texture of the grey hair is coarser and easier to manipulate.

A stitched artwork of a person with their mouth open, using their voice.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Agency #1, 2019. 30cm x 30cm x 5cm (12″ x 12″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human grey hair, black twill fabric.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas sewing in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.

Sketching and stitching

Tell us about your process and techniques when you’re working on a new piece.

Once I’ve collected my hair, I store it in plastic bins referenced by colour or year. At the beginning of a day’s work, I create piles of hair correlating to length: short, medium and long. These work piles of hair are then ready for me to use.

I select my needles according to the ground I’ll be working on. Some of the grounds I’ve worked upon include mylar, vellum, parchment, stretched watercolour canvas, chine-collé paper, stretched oil canvas and raw unprimed canvas.

I then create a gestural sketch of imagery on the selected ground. The sketch is usually created with an H pencil; however, I’ll use a white pencil for the black twill fabric.

This preliminary sketch is necessary because sewing hair is an unforgiving medium. Once the hair is sewn it can’t be undone. The removal of stitches leads to gratuitous holes and a blemished appearance.

“As I stitch my hair into the surface with a needle, I create a variety of values which serve to define the imagery.”

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Textile artist

Closely stitched lines or darker hair strands correlate to dark value. Sparsely spaced lines or a lighter brunette hair equates to lighter values. Drawing techniques, such as hatching, stippling and cross-hatching, translate to stitches.

Depending upon my intention, techniques are varied to achieve a range of textures, values and emotions. My academic degrees in drawing and painting mean that my technical approach is drawing-based.

As I sew the value patterns across imagery, I erase the initial gestural drawing. Visually, the end result is solely embroidered hair.

Tying off the hair when I am done sewing a section involves leaving the strand long; the hair protrudes from the surface. This interaction of hair and negative space creates a three-dimensional appearance. Initially, I tied off the hair and closely trimmed it to the ground; however, by 2011 I began leaving the tied-off strands long.

A close up of an embroidery of a female nude stitched in colourful, human hair 'thread'.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, The Last March (diptych) (detail), 2022. 51cm x 91cm x 5cm (20″ x 36″). Hand stitch. Coloured thread, pre-stretched black canvas.

Human figures

How does your hair art fit in with your other work?

I incorporate fibre art, drawing, installation, painting, performance art and video into my studio practice. The human figure is the unifying image in my artwork, notwithstanding what medium is being used. Thematic continuity links my visual artwork with my academic writing and poetry.

The installation artwork, Groundswell, that I set up in 2020 in the Amos Eno Gallery in Brooklyn, New York has hand-stitched hair around its border. The smaller elements of it contain hand-sewn hair.

My performance artwork encompasses the creation of costumes. The skill set from sewing hair is applied to sewing the costumes for my performances.

Two framed stitched artworks of nude women. Multicoloured stitches on a black background.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, The Last March (diptych), 2022. 51cm x 91cm x 5cm (20″ x 36″). Hand stitch. Coloured thread, pre-stretched black canvas.

Hair as archive

How has your hair artwork developed over time and what direction do you think it will take in the future?

The hair artworks have served as an archive of my body and ageing process.

I prefer not to speculate as to what direction future works might take. Studio experiments are predicated on freedom. Presupposed outcomes can hem in latitude, restricting future choices.

A stitched artwork of a woman with her mouth open, screaming.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, What You Whispered, Should Be Screamed, 2018. 84cm x 89cm x 5cm (33″ x 35″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human grey hair, black twill fabric.
A close up of a stitched artwork of a face, screaming.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, What You Whispered, Should Be Screamed (detail), 2018. 84cm x 89cm x 5cm (33″ x 35″ x 2″). Hand stitch. Human grey hair, black twill fabric.

Drawing and exploring materials

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist wanting to try out your kind of materials and techniques?

If an aspiring textile artist wanted to use my drawing techniques, I would recommend they take college-level drawing classes including figure drawing. Experimentation, research and study of materials are also integral to my studio work.

New ways of making art invigorate my practice; thereby, the visualisation of thematic issues becomes innovative. I move comfortably between varied materials to create art.

“I am a process-oriented artist who finds personal growth within the investigation of unfamiliar materials.”

Rosemary Meza-DesPlas, Textile artist
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas stitching a large artwork in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
Rosemary Meza-DesPlas stitching a large artwork in her studio in Farmington, New Mexico.
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Bonnie Peterson: Stitch activist https://www.textileartist.org/bonnie-peterson-stitch-activist/ https://www.textileartist.org/bonnie-peterson-stitch-activist/#comments Sun, 08 Sep 2024 20:00:00 +0000 https://www.textileartist.org/?p=15103 American visual artist Bonnie Peterson is deeply passionate about environmental sciences and the great outdoors.

She uses embroidery on silk and maps to raise awareness about the impact of global warming, advocating for the natural world she loves.

By engaging with scientists and asking insightful questions, Bonnie strives to make the science of climate change more accessible. While understanding equations, graphs and statistics can be daunting for many, they’re second nature to Bonnie, thanks to her background in marketing and market research.

Now Bonnie uses her ability with numbers to translate complex scientific data about climate change into easy-to-understand visual narratives that are central to her work.

Her materials are silk, velvet, thread, maps, old journals and history. Her tools are words, numbers and graphs. Bonnie’s use of colour, collage, mark making and embroidery creates a magical blend of art and science that sparks conversation and inspires action.

A colorful patchwork quilt with hand stitched writing on it
Bonnie Peterson, Turning Green (detail), 2013. 81cm x 132cm (32″ x 52″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, brocade, threads.

Bonnie Peterson: I’m a visual artist investigating environmental and social issues using embroidery on silk and maps.

My work is primarily narrative and integrated with data and history. It examines geophysical climate issues with the goal of promoting a fresh opportunity to consider climate change and an urgency to take action.

I’ve always been fond of maths – I worked with data and graphs during jobs in marketing and marketing research. I think this, and my college statistics classes, fostered my interest in promoting graphs and related maths with climate issues.

I design simple explanations of the important principles and difficult modelling scenarios in environmental science. By incorporating these in my work, I hope to break down some of the maths-phobic barriers confronting climate maths and climate graphs.

For example, Turning Green illuminates data about the melting of Greenland’s glaciers using text, temperature and other recent climate data from NASA and the Jet Propulsion Lab research studies. I find it fascinating that this data is collected by twin satellites measuring gravity.

A basic understanding of the measurements and methods aids critical thinking, leading to more interest and acceptance of the consequences of warming.

A colorful patchwork art quilt with different patterns and type stitched surrounding a graph depicting the rising ocean temperatures
Bonnie Peterson, Ocean Heat, 2017. 97cm x 104cm (38″ x 41″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.
A close up of a colourful patchwork art quilt with stitched writing across its surface
Bonnie Peterson, Ocean Heat (detail), 2017. 97cm x 104cm (38″ x 41″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

Inspiring data

I am interested in the technical aspects of environmental data collection – I want to understand the mechanism behind the numbers, and the context and relevance of the data.

For example, Argo floats, which feature in Ocean Heat, collect data on ocean characteristics such as temperature and salinity. Ocean Heat shows heat content in the top 700 metres (2,300ft) of the ocean, plus data collection tools and the relevance of heat content to climate science. This artwork promotes an understanding of the physical science behind warming.

Drought explains how snow water equivalent data and tree ring science were used in 2015 to record the worst drought in California in 500 years. The goal of Drought is to engage viewers in the scientific process and lead to a greater understanding of the changing background conditions brought on by global temperature increase.

‘The science and maths behind climate equations, graphs and models are fascinating and seldom brought to the fore.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist
A colourful patchwork art quilt with text stitched across it
Bonnie Peterson, Drought, 2017. 96cm x 140cm (38″ x 55″). Appliqué, piecing, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, threads.

Text & texture

Text is an important feature of my work. It has evolved from applying text using transfers to using free motion embroidery.

Mixing a variety of source materials such as scientific data and early explorer’s journals, I stitch words and graphs on velvet and silk fabrics to make large narrative wall hangings and a series of topographic maps.

I annotate topographic maps with a labyrinth of climate variables at various future temperature and emission scenarios.

‘Stitching is a key element and I use a mix of hand and free motion embroidery.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

The surface of my work is a blend of appliqué and piecing, although not necessarily done in the traditional way. For example, sometimes I attach transfers with big suture-type stitches.

I enjoy adding hand stitches, crewel and crazy quilt stitches to random sections of my work. In Anthropocene CO2, I’ve used traditional Kantha stitches in the velvet borders.

A close-up of a green art quilt with stitched handwriting and a graph at the centre depicting the rise of atmospheric carbon dioxide
Bonnie Peterson, Anthropocene (CO2) (detail), 2022. 58cm x 68cm (23″ x 27″). Appliqué, piecing, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, threads.

Science inspiration

I subscribe to a wide variety of web sources and journal articles for new climate research and to get a fresh look at climate science. The journal Nature is an excellent starting point.

There are an increasing number of reports about the negative aspects of climate change on the human body as the prevalence of heat waves increases dramatically.

I organise information on a variety of environmental and social topics in real and virtual folders. I then sift through the research related to a topic of interest that I want to spend more time developing into a piece of artwork.

I research the history of a topic and the data collection instruments such as satellites and ocean floats. Sometimes I will email a researcher to ask a question, to ask for more recent data, or for a different graph.

This process can take months, so I usually work on several projects at one time to allow sufficient time to work out kinks and make decisions.

‘I find that if there is a stopping point in a project, it turns out to be a good thing because it helps clarify an issue or thought.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist
A blue and red patchwork quilt with colorful stitched writing
Bonnie Peterson, Transect (detail), 2015. 102cm x 132cm (40″ x 52″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

Making sense

I assemble the background fabrics on a pin-up wall. Sometimes I photograph different fabric and thread colours to see what works.

Multiple layers of fabric usually require pin or thread basting. The centre layer is usually cotton flannel, which can withstand a hot iron.

Free motion embroidery is not computerised machine stitching. It’s where the ‘feed dogs’ are lowered and the hand moves the fabric in the style of writing. I like the happenstance of penmanship and the irregular sizes and spacing of words and numbers.

‘When I’m using free motion embroidery for text or a graph, I prefer to wing it rather than start with a marked line.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Free motion embroidery needs a stabiliser or a thick surface, so I use various methods to keep the thread from becoming twisted beneath the embroidered surface.

Solvy water soluble film, paper, tear-away or dissolving stabilisers or even just using a thick fabric surface helps with this problem.

I am interested in value, colour and contrast. I use a wide variety of threads from small diameter (such as size 40) cotton and polyester threads to thicker (size 12) wool, acrylic and rayon.

Silk thread is more difficult to find. I use all of these, whether doing hand stitching or free motion embroidery. Madeira is a source for the thicker rayon and wool threads and sparkly threads. I like the neon colours.

A woman in an art studio sewing a piece of fabric to create an art quilt
Bonnie Peterson in her studio
A piece of textile art with a spiral of stitched handwriting on a turquiose background
Bonnie Peterson, Days of Lead (Pb), 2017. 127cm x 127cm (50″ x 50″). Hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

Exploring light

I love the shine and the directional nap of silk dupioni – it’s nubby and irregular. I like it as a base for embroidery. Different colours and reflectivity come out with various orientations of the fabric.

There are colour differences in the warp and weft. Velvet has some of these same properties in its differential shine and nap patterns.

In Days of Lead, you can see how I’ve used silk dupioni mixed with velvets. The artwork chronicles significant events during the first 1,000 days of toxic lead (Pb) in Flint, Michigan’s water supply, as well as environmental details about lead (Pb).

Both of these fabrics are difficult to find so I am always on the lookout. Mood Fabrics in New York City has unusual devoré or burnout velvets, and Silk Baron in Los Angeles has all kinds of silk and velvet.

A closeup of fabric art with stitched writing on it
Bonnie Peterson, Days of Lead (Pb) (detail), 2017. 127cm x 127cm (50″ x 50″). Hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

Cool collaborations

I love partnering with scientists. Artist-scientist projects are a lot of fun because of the camaraderie, and the science is fascinating. Collaborations on concepts in fire ecology, atmospheric science, permafrost and other geosciences have driven my work.

I’ve participated in some exciting and rewarding projects including the University of Wisconsin, around issues of limnology – lake science and climate change; glaciology at Yosemite National Park; fire ecology at Northern Arizona University, exploring the intersection of extreme fires and societal change; dendrochronology, the science of dating tree rings, at the University of Arizona, as well as the declining mass of Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets, and permafrost melting.

A stitched artwork of different thoughts mapped together by lines and arrows
Bonnie Peterson, On the Nature of Fire, 2015. 165cm x 216cm (65″ x 85″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Velvet, silk, threads.

Changing minds

The first project ‘Paradise Lost’ started in 2006. The University of Wisconsin-Madison brought artists and scientists together in Northern Wisconsin to learn about climate change.

Our goal was to make art for a travelling exhibition. The topic was not at the forefront of people’s minds as it is today.

That was the year former United States Vice President Al Gore’s movie, An Inconvenient Truth, came out. The terminology was transitioning from ‘global warming’ to the less confrontational ‘climate change’.

I was able to indulge my curiosity by asking many questions of the atmospheric scientists. I became interested in the CO2 graphs made from ice cores and I used one of those graphs in my work.

Anthropocene (CO2) depicts 400,000 years of CO2 in the earth’s atmosphere. The Anthropocene Epoch is a unit of geologic time, used to describe the most recent period in Earth’s history when human activity started to have a significant impact on the planet’s climate and ecosystems.

A close up of a stitched artwork of different thoughts mapped together by lines and arrows
Bonnie Peterson, On the Nature of Fire (detail), 2015. 165cm x 216cm (65″ x 85″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Velvet, silk, threads.

On fire

Fires of Change: The Art of Fire Science was an artist/scientist project that explored how fire as an ecosystem process is impacted by climate change and societal development. Eleven artists attended educational field trips to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and other locations with fire managers and scientists.

During the boot camp, I saw that my notes contained a mess of arrows amongst a complex network of fire ecology variables. After I returned home and wondered what type of work I would make, my notes gave me the answer.

These arrows and the entanglement of fire attributes and consequences were the basis of On the Nature of Fire. I refined the notes by emailing the scientists until my diagram accurately reflected our workshop.

I embroidered the drawing onto a large deep purple piece of silk. I made the arrows and text more prominent against the deeply coloured background fabric by outlining the text and arrows with further embroidery. It turned out to be quite large with a velvet border.

As part of the project, I also made collages on two Grand Canyon topographic maps using text about the labour issues for wildland firefighters, the technical science issues of wildfire and the exploration history of the Grand Canyon.

In Phantom Ranch Quadrangle, I used collage, transfers, pen and stitching on a topographic map. I included text which contains fire terminology, the firefighter’s job description, information about their fire shelters and fire history from tree ring research. There is also text from John Wesley Powell’s Exploration of the Colorado River, 1895.

We had less than a year to complete our work so this large textile, plus two paper maps, had a tight deadline. On my website, I share more detail about my artistic process in engineering this complex artwork.

A typographic artwork overlaid on a contour map of mountains
Bonnie Peterson, Phantom Ranch Quadrangle, 2015. 69cm x 56cm (27″ x 22″). Stitch. Transfers, pen, contour map.

In nature

I have backpacked in the Sierras since the early 1980s and have a deep interest in the Muir Trail and in Yosemite National Park.

I have a large number of works which integrate the history and scientific measurements of the Lyell Glacier, Hetch Hetchy Reservoir and the John Muir Trail. These works were in the Fresno Art Museum a few years ago and the museum produced a YouTube studio tour video about them.

One project was inspired by a backpacking trip to measure the Lyell Glacier with Yosemite geologists. I wanted to make a piece about permafrost for a Chicago show, Geosciences Embroideries. It started out with a graph of the boreholes where permafrost temperatures are measured, using data from the Permafrost Laboratory at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks.

Transect illustrates the Lyell Glacier transect measurements from the 1930s through to 2012; John Boise Tilton’s journal from his 1871 first ascent of Mt Lyell; and John Muir’s description of the Lyell Glacier from 1800.

A blue and red patchwork quilt with colorful stitched writing
Bonnie Peterson, Transect (detail), 2015. 102cm x 132cm (40″ x 52″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.
A red and yellow stitched art quilt with decorative hand-stitched writing on it
Bonnie Peterson, Permafrost Boreholes, 2023. 127cm x 132cm (50″ x 52″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.
A close-up detail of a red and yellow patched art quilt with decorative handstitched writing across the fabric
Bonnie Peterson, Permafrost Boreholes (detail), 2023. 127cm x 132cm (50″ x 52″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

Permafrost investigations

Permafrost Boreholes includes a graph showing permafrost temperatures at a depth of 20 metres (65ft) in boreholes on Alaska’s North Slope for the past 40 years.

However, I soon discovered that permafrost is more complex than just borehole measurements. There is also the active layer and the issue of permafrost distribution.

This resulted in further artworks, Permafrost Active Layer and Permafrost Distribution. The latter shows a bird’s eye view of arctic permafrost and some of its characteristics. Permafrost thawing also releases carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere, causing even greater atmospheric warming.

A patchwork art quilt with stitched handwriting across it
Bonnie Peterson, Permafrost Active Layer, 2022. 64cm x 64cm (25″ x 25″). Appliqué, piecing, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.
A yellow and red art quilt with a stitched the map of the world across the surface and blue banner with the words 'Permafrost Distribution' on it
Bonnie Peterson, Permafrost Distribution, 2021. 41cm x 41cm x 3cm (16″ x 16″ x 1″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Silk, velvet, threads.

World view

Although most of my work is two-dimensional, Climate Anomaly Globe gave me an opportunity to work in the round – literally.

In this artwork, more than 100 climate anomalies or deviations for 2017-20 are posted at each respective location around the globe. The 2020 anomalies are on red needles, 2019 are on green needles, 2018 are blue, and 2017 are yellow.

The anomaly data points are from NASA and the World Meteorological Organization. They are printed on over 100 flags and pinned onto a traditional school globe.

For example, one of the red needles that’s planted in the Arctic region states ‘2020 Arctic: 11th smallest maximum sea ice extent on record & 2nd smallest minimum extent on record.’

A textile art sculpture of a globe with flags pinned over its surface
Bonnie Peterson, Climate Anomaly Globe, 2022. 43cm x 43cm x 43cm (17″ x 17″ x 17″). Hand stitch, transfers. Ribbon, thread, painted needles, school globe.
A closeup of a textile art sculpture of a globe with flags pinned over its surface
Bonnie Peterson, Climate Anomaly Globe (detail), 2022. 43cm x 43cm x 43cm (17″ x 17″ x 17″). Hand stitch, transfers. Ribbon, thread, painted needles, school globe.

Finding time

When my kids were small I had National Park residencies. I would go on short backpacking trips with the kids while percolating ideas for artwork to make when I returned home.

The residencies were a great opportunity to balance seeing new parks and working on new issues, at the same time as looking after my family.

Back in the 1980s, I used standard USGS 7.5-minute topographic maps for orienteering in the backcountry (today, backpackers bring cell phones for navigation). I started to use these maps as the base for a collage of images and text about my wilderness trips.

Some images were transferred to silk and sewn by hand onto the maps and some were ironed directly onto the maps. In Glacier Survey Quadrangle I joined multiple maps together to look as if it were a single map.

When sewing a piece of silk onto a paper map I usually put a small piece of interfacing on the back of the map so that the needle holes do not tear the paper.

A collaged artwork of a topographic glacier map with overlaid type and imagery
Bonnie Peterson, Glacier Survey Quadrangle, 2010. 69cm x 56cm x 3cm (27″ x 22″ x 1″). Heat transfer, silk transfer, writing, stitch, appliqué. Contour maps, silk, velvet, threads.
A closeup of a collaged artwork of a topographic glacier map with overlaid type and imagery
Bonnie Peterson, Glacier Survey Quadrangle (detail), 2010. 69cm x 56cm x 3cm (27″ x 22″ x 1″). Heat transfer, silk transfer, writing, stitch, appliqué. Contour maps, silk, velvet, threads.

Lakeside adventures

I participated in Crater Lake’s Centennial Artist in Residence programme, whose goal was to generate artwork for a centennial exhibition. I requested dates in late March that year because I love to ski.

Crater Lake traditionally receives 12 metres (40ft) of snowfall, which boils down to six metres (20ft) on the ground. They received about a third reduced load that year but there was still enough snow to ski around the lake, a distance of 53km (33 miles).

I had quite an adventure during my backpacking ski trip around the lake, including a broken tent and stove. I made a wall hanging and embroidered the story of my ski trip in the borders with maps and also a large collaged map merging the Crater Lake East and West topographic maps.

One residency will sometimes inform another. At the Lucid Foundation near Point Reyes, California, I started a project where I integrated current and future global temperatures with the consequences of warming.

I used topographic maps as the background and marked them up with global temperature changes and climate consequences. I made a series of enlarged human-sized canvas maps with labyrinths of temperature consequences.

At another residency, I was able to refine these drawings and also a series of embroidered climate graphs. There are about 10 of these graphs and they emerge from oil cans.

‘An artist residency offers a unique source of inspiration – time alone and distance away.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist
A textile sculpture of colorful ribbons spilling out of different a variety of cans
Bonnie Peterson, Oil Can Graphs, 2024. Each approx. 20cm x 20cm x 76cm (8″ x 8″ x 30″). Hand and free motion embroidery, some with appliqué and piecing. Silk, threads.
A close up of a patchwork art quilt with a variety of collaged imagery and stitched handwriting on it
Bonnie Peterson, Crater Lake Centennial, 2001 (detail). 112cm x 130cm (44″ x 51″). Heat transfer, appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Satin, velvet, threads.

Early influences

My mother taught me to sew. When I was in my early teens, she let me choose the fabric so I could sew my own clothes. I still remember my favourite yellow dress.

Back then, sewing clothes wasn’t unusual and a home economics sewing class was part of the girls’ middle school curriculum.

In the 1950s my parents were briefly medical missionaries before settling in Chicago. However, the urge to help people in Africa never left my Dad. I was a junior in high school when our family moved to Kinshasa (now in the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

Dad established an anaesthesia programme at the Lovanium University. Poverty and power imbalances were everywhere, and Zaire (as it was then) was part of the Cold War power balance.

‘The legacy of colonialism contributed to my interest in human rights issues, treaties and war casualties, which has come out in my work throughout the years.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

I didn’t sew again until I was pregnant and wanted to make maternity clothes and baby clothes. We were living in Tallahassee. I was working part time and also at a traditional quilt shop. There I fell under the spell of the beautiful cotton fabrics.

I joined a quilt guild, and they really encouraged my first wall hanging of the Chicago skyline. My kids were little and I used to furiously work for several hours after they went to bed.

Early works

About 30 years ago a close friend died of breast cancer. This prompted me to make what I call my ‘bra’ quilt. I used de-wired bras, my friend’s poetry and news articles about breast cancer, which I transferred to fabric and integrated with the bras.

My friend’s poems about her experiences with isolation due to the ‘c’ word caused me to call this piece Talk to Me.

I used a dye printing technique with dye paper. Talk to Me didn’t get juried into quilt shows initially so I entered it in the Evanston Art Center’s Vicinity show where they hung it as a sculpture in the middle of the room.

I was surprised that the back was showing with the bobbin threads exposed – it looked a little raw, but no one else cared.

This led me to be unconcerned about the backs of my work being covered or having knots and threads.

A colorful patchwork art quilt with a bright yellow silhouette of a drone in the center surrounded by thoughts on using drone strikes in war
Bonnie Peterson, Drone Shadow, 2015. 132cm x 122cm (52″ x 48″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Velvet, silk, threads.
A close-up of a colourful patchworked art quilt with stitched handwriting across it
Bonnie Peterson, Drone Shadow (detail), 2015. 132cm x 122cm (52″ x 48″). Appliqué, hand and free motion embroidery. Velvet, silk, threads.

Artist’s mindset

My first solo show was at ARC Gallery in Chicago (one of the two women-run ‘co-op’ galleries in Chicago) and I called it Political Art Quilts.

The opening was during a huge Chicago snowstorm, but a few people braved it. I learned how to install, make text signage, and publicise my show.

And while this show was up, I received an Illinois Arts Council Individual Artist Grant. This was a pivotal moment for me.

I had no formal education in art.

For the first time, I began to think of myself as an artist and enter my work in juried art shows.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Working environment

About 10 years ago, I moved about 400 miles (640 km) north of Chicago, to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Houghton is on the south shore of Lake Superior. I work in a home studio.

One side overlooks the woods where I cross-country ski on winter mornings, the other looks out over the street where I ride my bike. I ski from December through March or half of April since we normally get over five metres (200″) of snowfall. However, recent winters have been very short so I have to ride on an indoor bike most of the winter.

Living in a rural area has been a big adjustment after living in the city, and having the easy friendships, nearby art communities, monthly openings and the variety of art venues on your doorstep. I miss all of that.

‘I use every opportunity to see art exhibitions when I’m travelling, and I try to connect with other communities of artists.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist
A female artist holding some cloth stood next to textile art in her studio
Bonnie Peterson in her studio

Guiding principles

The twists and turns in my work have always eluded my ability to predict a direction, and that’s what makes life interesting.

I look at as much art as possible, whether or not it has textile content. I use travel as a way to expand my geographic reach and exposure to more art. I recently visited Japan and that’s given me lots of inspiration.

It’s good to seek out an artist community. Look for studio tours and speak with the artists. When I was starting out exhibiting my work I belonged to a critique group of fibre artists. I was inspired to make work for the monthly meeting deadline. The structure of critical sharing was also helpful.

I encourage you to follow your intellectual curiosity. I have always been fond of maths, data and graphs and so I combine that with my interest in climate issues. My first subjects were prompted by my interest in the Gulf War and family issues – marriage, children and divorce. I am deeply committed to environmental data, policy and justice issues and I expect to continue with this theme.

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Textile art books: Printed surface design techniques https://www.textileartist.org/top-10-textile-printing-books/ https://www.textileartist.org/top-10-textile-printing-books/#respond Fri, 07 Jun 2024 16:19:39 +0000 https://stitchclub.local/top-10-textile-printing-books/ Looking for a way to amp up your textile art? How about designing your own fabrics? It’s easier than you think, especially if you’re using printing techniques, and it can add another exciting dimension to your creativity.

Printing is one of the oldest and most accessible ways to create a surface design on fabric. And it’s a valuable way to introduce another layer of mark-making into your work. 

Our booklist will help you get in on the act. From experimenting with gelli printing to trying block or screen printing, these books aim to guide you through the entire learning curve. Many also include information about colour theory, as well as ways to create incredible textile designs using simple methods and tools. Even better, you probably already have many of the materials you’ll need to hand.

It’s time to get printing!

Gelli Arts Printing Guide

Gelli Arts Printing Guide

Printing with a gelli plate is an easy and affordable way to create an incredible variety of print designs on fabric. This book will help you produce beautiful, one-of-a-kind artwork with amazing colours and textures. Wonderful results can be obtained quickly, and simple variations give each print its own unique personality. 

The book opens with the basics, covering supplies and how to set up your printing station, before delving into more than 30 different techniques for making colourful backgrounds, textured pages, multiple layers and basic borders. These instructions are complemented by step-by-step pictures of each technique. Perfect for beginners and experts alike, this newly expanded edition contains an updated gallery of printed art.

Gelli Arts® Printing Guide: Printing without a press on paper and fabric using the Gelli Arts® plate by Suzanne McNeill (2021)
ISBN 9781497205406

Gelli Plate Printing

Gelli Plate Printing

Meet your dream printing plate and fall in love with a fast and friendly approach to printmaking. Gelli plates are durable, reusable and stored at room temperature. They provide endless creative possibilities for monoprinting without huge prep times and mess. Simply apply paint with a soft rubber roller, make your marks, and pull your print. Wipe the plate down with a spritz of water and paper towel, and you’re ready to print again. 

Fifty separate techniques are presented using sponges, textured rollers, stencils, rubber stamps and more. You’ll also learn how to hunt down ‘texture makers’ such as rubber bands, combs, scraps of fabric, credit cards and more. The book also features a 26-page gallery showcasing the endless possibilities for creating colour, texture and pattern.

Gelli Plate Printing: Mixed-media monoprinting without a press by Joan Bess (2014)
ISBN 9781440335488

Fabric Surface Design

Fabric Surface Design

Sensational stitch projects demand fabulous fabrics! Fibre artist Cheryl Rezendes shows you how to create an astonishing array of surface designs, simply and safely, using textile paints and printing ink. She covers a wide variety of techniques, including stamping, Japanese Shibori, silkscreen, soy wax and flour resist, image transfer, marbling, nature printing, foils and metal leaf. Step-by-step photographs illustrate every detail, and Cheryl includes innovative suggestions on how to combine and layer techniques for stunningly original results.

Fabric Surface Design by Cheryl Rezendes (2013)
ISBN 9781603428118

Complete Guide to Designing and Printing Fabric

Complete Guide to Designing and Printing Fabric

Looking to design your own textiles? This book is packed with advice from established fabric designers who offer clear, easy-to-follow tutorials. The entire fabric design process is explained, including where to find sources of inspiration for your designs. Then step-by-step instruction is provided for a wide variety of printing methods, including screen printing, monoprinting, stamping, stencilling, resist dyeing, painting and inkjet printing. You’ll find plenty of photos accompanying each tutorial, and both hand and digital printing methods are covered. Attention is also given to how to work with on-demand fabric printing companies, such as Spoonflower and Contrado.

Complete Guide to Designing and Printing Fabric by Laurie Wisbrun (2011)
ISBN 9781408147009

Modern Block Printing

Modern Block Printing

The 17 projects featured in this book showcase the versatility of modern block printing. From printing on fabric and clay to making homewares such as cushions and lampshades, Rowan Sivyer offers easy-to-follow instructions taking you through every step of the process. Attention is given to the history of this ancient printing method and exploring design essentials, as well as choosing and caring for tools and carving and printing techniques. Rowan is often inspired by nature, particularly that of her homelands in New Zealand and Australia. With beautiful photography and stunning design, this is an essential guide to block printing by hand.

Modern Block Printing by Rowan Sivyer (2022)
ISBN 9781784885182

Block Print for Beginners

Block Print Magic

This is a perfect reference book for a wide range of print-making enthusiasts. Easy-to-follow illustrated instruction walks you through every step of the process. Artist Emily Howard starts by explaining how to choose and care for tools and set up a studio. Design essentials and carving techniques are then introduced, followed by printing techniques that include multi-block printing, reduction cuts, puzzle blocks and rainbow-roll printing. Advanced carving techniques for creating textures, cross hatching and 3D shading are also explored. 

Seventeen different projects are featured, as well as interviews and examples from five printmakers for inspiration and visual demonstration. This is a must-have for any printmaker’s bookshelf.

Block Print Magic by Emily Louise Howard (2019)
ISBN 9781631596155

Block Print for Beginners

Block Print for Beginners

Learn how to create unique contemporary works of art using traditional carving tools and printmaking techniques to create custom lino prints. Practical instruction is combined with approachable projects and inspirational imagery. Essential materials such as printmaking inks, linoleum blocks, carving tools and papers are explored. Then the full process of moving from an uncarved block to a finished print is explained, including how to transfer a drawing, carve the blocks, and work with inks to achieve the best results. The book closes with step-by-step tutorials for creating a variety of lino print blocks that can be used over and over again. Elise offers a fresh, contemporary and enjoyable approach to learning this time-treasured art form.

Block Print for Beginners by Elise Young (2021)
ISBN 9781633228887

Screenprinting on Textiles: The Complete Guide

Screenprinting on Textiles: The Complete Guide

Screen printing is a stencil method of printing with vast potential. Packed with instruction and practical advice, this book introduces the basic technical aspects of printing on fabric, as well as the equipment and materials needed to succeed. Ideas for designing and combining different types of motifs, images, patterns and repeats are also provided. 

You will learn effective low-tech methods using simple tools, as well as exploring the world of digital print. Advice on using colour, as well as dye recipes, is also featured. Methods such as cross dyeing, crimping and mark making on fabric can also be used in conjunction with screen printing. Sue generously shares practical tips for both traditional screen printing processes, as well as the latest techniques in contemporary practice. 

Screenprinting on Textiles by Sue Westergaard (2020)
ISBN 9781785007538

Beginner’s Guide to Screen Printing

Beginner’s Guide to Screen Printing

Screen printing involves the forcing of ink through a screen of fine material to create a picture or pattern. Erin demonstrates an accessible way of exploring the creative potential of screen printing, using a simple embroidery hoop and silk fabric. 

The book provides clear instructions and colourful step-by-step photography for 12 different projects, and you’ll learn how to print on different surfaces, including wood, cork and fabric. The projects feature coastal and botanical themes, along with templates and inspiration for you to design your own motifs. Long considered to be a ‘specialist’ and expensive technique, the ideas in this book make screen printing affordable and accessible to all.

Beginner’s Guide to Screen Printing by Erin Lacy (2019)
ISBN 9781782217244

Simply Screen Printing

Simply Screen Printing

Leah Higgins is known for her innovative printing techniques on fabric. This book offers a detailed instructional guide to start screen printing using Procion MX dyes and other media to suit your budget and available workspace. It covers working with an open screen with loose resists (such as paper or thread) and with temporary resists (such as thickened dyes, masking tape and freezer paper). Semi-permanent resists, including flour paste, washable PVA glue and sticky back plastic, are also presented. Leah also shares how to combine screen printing with masks on fabric, and there is a section focusing on colour use. Over 500 gorgeous images are spread throughout the book offering both instruction and inspiration. This book is available to ship worldwide from Leah’s website.

Simply Screen Printing by Leah Higgins (2023)
ISBN 9781999585853

Featured picks

Want to explore more possibilities for printing on fabric? Check out Discover: The power of print, which showcases a variety of textile artists using print surface design in their work.

If you buy books linked to our site, we may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookshops.

Do you have a favourite book about printing on textiles? Let us know below.

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