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Soft Landing Toshiko Horiuchi MacAdam’s textile playgrounds are not only a hit with children, they knit together art, architecture and engineering. Words Carren Jao
“Knit” and “crochet” may conjure warm images of grandmothers patiently crafting sweaters and scarves by the fire, but in the hands of fibre artist Toshiko Horiuchi MacAdam, nylon rope is transformed into immersive playgrounds that dare children to embark on unexpected adventures. Tough, plastic slides and cold metal are replaced with colossal nets, hanging balls and improvised hammocks. “It’s like painting, but with textile. It’s three-dimensional,” says MacAdam, who uses yarn by the tonne. Born in 1940 into a family of doctors, MacAdam first had to resist the pull to take up medicine. “I wanted to become a doctor because my grandfather, my father, my three brothers were all doctors,” says the artist. “But then I realised, just because the family does it, does not mean I have to. I thought about my brain and how it functions. Art is more suitable.” After finishing a master’s degree at Cranbrook Academy of Art in Michigan in 1966, MacAdam became known for ethereal, large-scale forms in a muted palette. In “Atmosphere of the Floating Cube,” MacAdam stretched 7.2 kilogrammes of knit gold and silver Mylar with ramie (a fibre made from nettle-like plants) and illuminated them with floodlights, giving the 13.8-cubic-metre structure a haloed appearance. In “Gothic Arches, Romanesque Church,” MacAdam knit arches throughout a vaulted arcade of a Romanesque church in Angers, France. Her work was lauded from New York to Tokyo. Yet despite her success, something was still missing. “I wasn’t 100 percent myself yet,”
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(OPPOSITE, FROM TOP) MacAdam’s work, “Knitted Wonder Space II,” is held within a wooden frame built by architects Yuhi and Takaharu Tezuka; MacAdam dedicated her work to children after seeing them play with it in a gallery. (THIS PAGE, CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT) In MacAdam’s structures, safety is highly prioritised; MacAdam believes playscapes such as hers help children’s physical and social development; MacAdam is still at work after more than half a century.
she says. It wasn’t until exhibiting in a small Tokyo gallery where she witnessed children boisterously playing with her structures that she was struck by the human aspect of her work. “With children, my work was far more interesting than just [a] still piece in the museum. When the kids jumped in and it started moving, something rang in my heart.” Her work went through a radical shift, re-orienting toward creating safe, resilient playgrounds for children. Gone were restrained colours, replaced by a vivacious palette: hot reds, oranges and yellows melded, tempered by cool greens and blues, all knit together. MacAdam’s playgrounds have since been built in parks around the world, including Singapore, Japan and Spain. In her largest piece to date—“Rainbow Park” in Showa Memorial
National Park in Tokyo—each arm of the V-shaped playscape is about 50 metres long. To ensure safety and resiliency, MacAdam works with structural engineers Norihide Imagawa and T.I.S Partners. “I start in art and textile and end close to architecture and engineering, but I never cross the line.” MacAdam now lives and works in Halifax, Nova Scotia with husband Charles MacAdam. The two founded Interplay Design, promoting their brand of vibrant, unrestrained play in soft, safe environments. Already into her seventies, MacAdam continues to work with vigour. Interplay recently finished a piece for a model elementary school in Tokyo and a municipal park project in Zaragoza, Spain. The couple are now working on projects in the US and Canada. Six other pieces are in progress. Looking back at half a century’s work, MacAdam happily notes she has come full circle. She may not have gone into medicine, but her work has made just a much of a positive impact on children. “My brother—who is a professor who specialises in premature babies—said we reach very similar points,” she says. “In medicine, they found kangaroo care is better because they take babies and put [them] in the mother’s pouch, where kids can move and jiggle around. That helps the baby’s development. I’m doing a similar thing for children in textile.” netplayworks.com
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