8 minute read
WEAVING IN TIME
Weaving traditions: old and new
Take a textile room at the American Museum & Gardens with a collection of Navajo and New Mexican weavings. Take a modern practitioner who says that weaving teaches her to be still. Gianna Scavo investigates this slow art of ebb and flow
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Most of our lives we live closed up in ourselves, with a longing not to be alone, to include others in that life that is invisible and intangible. To make it visible and tangible, we need light and material, any material. And any material can take on the burden of what had been brewing in our consciousness or subconsciousness, in our awareness or in our dreams.”
These are the words of Anni Albers, the German-born textile artist who was one of the first figures to blur the lines between the traditional weaving craft, and a striking modern art practice. There’s something about textile art that feels uniquely human. While the paintbrush strokes on a canvas may elude us, materials, especially our clothing and blankets, have a distinctly familiar air about them. They protect us, comfort us, keep us sheltered and warm, and through pattern and colour, allow us to express ourselves. How often have we taken a step back from objects so familiar as these, and learned to view them as art objects? The craftsmanship, intentionality and careful techniques behind the ancient weaving tradition can teach us a lesson on the value of slowing down and working with our hands.
Navajo and New Mexican weavings
The American Museum & Gardens in Bath houses an impressive collection of over 12,000 objects that explore a diverse range of American cultures. On the first floor of the museum, you can view their extensive textile collection, consisting of over 50 quilts and a selection of Navajo and New Mexican weavings.
The Navajo are a Native American people who arrived at the American Southwest shortly after the Pueblo people, the first record of their presence being in 1626. Navajo textiles originally had utilitarian purpose and a high trade value, and were used to compose beds, to be worn, and eventually used as rugs. They began weaving on baskets, which had triangular and zig-zagged patterns that translated into their woven blankets and dresses; textiles that were made possible after the Navajo adopted the upright loom of the Pueblo people.
Geometric patterns were common due to the nature of the upright loom and often the weaver had no predestined pattern they chose to follow, but relied on memory. They have often borrowed techniques and materials from the Pueblo people, but have had their own distinct influence on their weavings. The weavings of the Navajo people surpass pretty patterns and rich colours, their stories and often painful memories are also woven throughout each piece; stories of exile,
“imprisonment and erasure. In 1863, the US military forced the Navajo 400 miles to Bosque Redondo, a journey that killed thousands. When they met their destination, they suffered from a lack of food and clean water which led to disease. It is said that throughout their time at Bosque Redondo, they continued to weave, and traded their creations for resources that helped them to survive. Throughout the ages, Navajo weaving changed greatly due to their exile and the expansion of the Indian craft market, which placed value on their unique styles and artistry as opposed to the influx of cheap, mass-produced machine-made blankets that emerged. One interesting development that occurred as a result of trader demand was a border that was added to the weavings. Textile specialist Sheila Betterson, who has written an extensive overview of the American Museum & Gardens’ Navajo Weaving collection in her Navajo Weaving and Textiles of the American Southwestfrom the American Museum in Britain points out that, “They introduced a border to the rug to serve as a frame to the design. Very few of the earlier blankets had had a border, the earliest record of a border being in 1873. Instead of allover patterns, isolated geometric motifs began to be placed within a framed format.” One could argue that these weavings didn’t need to have intricate patterns and alluring colours, yet the artisan weavers who created them decided to leave their own creative mark, and they are now highly regarded as objects of artistic value, and are amongst the most highly sought-after textiles today. These frames allow us to direct our eyes to the unique and intricate patterns and shapes, focusing our attention on the craftsmanship, and remind us that useful objects need not be devoid of beauty. Each part of the process, the hand spun yarn, vegetal dyes, and a precise loom preparation implies a careful attention and regard for process and tradition, a tradition that is still being protected today. There is also an exciting contemporary Native North American Indian artist movement which continues to flourish, as these artists continually reinterpret and share their cultural history in fresh and creative ways. Rainmaker Gallery in Bristol, which encourages cultural understanding, appreciation and education on contemporary Native American art, is a destination for those eager to witness the work of these artists right here in the UK.
Contemporary weaving practice
UK-based contemporary artists are also embracing woven textiles. Christabel Balfour is a London-based artist and tapestry weaver who recently exhibited at Hauser & Wirth Gallery in Bruton, who specialises in rugs and woven wall-hangings. When your eyes meet one of Christabel’s pieces, you’ll immediately be swept up in impeccable, modern compositions and colour stories. Having had the chance to document her intricate process, I witnessed a masterclass in the art of slowing down. Christabel’s studio is a tactile wonderland. From the thread on her loom to the delicately dyed yarns piled on shelves, each element invites a physical interchange –shades of ochre, lilac and sage immediately catch your eye. Her creative process begins with sketching, and lots of it. But no matter how much planning happens ahead of time, weaving is a process of give and take, requiring patience, flexibility and intuition. Christabel believes that it’s important to “respond to what’s ➲
LEFT: Navajo rug (detail), 185 x 132cm, Crystal Trading Post c. 1890. All wool, closely woven in tapestry weave. Gift of Mr and Mrs Ivan Albright. © American Museum & Gardens
ABOVE: Christabel at her loom
happening on the loom” instead of relying solely on her predetermined blueprint. After her rough sketch is finalised, it can take up to three days to physically set up the loom before she begins. Weaving has taught her to be still and direct her focus –a practice that proves immensely difficult in our increasingly fast-paced digital landscape, a landscape where everything is fighting for our attention.
In weaving, there is no instant gratification. The long-winded nature of this craft naturally makes us wonder, is it suitable for multi-tasking? She tells us that “In theory you can weave while watching Netflix, or with an eye on Instagram, but you miss the magic of it when you do.” I noticed how physical the process is to create certain pieces, her arms spanning upwards and outwards. Not only is her mind focused on her work, but her entire posture. It’s a practice that she dedicates herself wholeheartedly to, which is why I believe that each of her pieces seem to produce visual sound as opposed to visual noise.
Her elegant designs also teach us the practice of moderation in a world where we are taught that more is more. It’s about reaching the structure and spirit of it all, distilling only the essence, and to say no more or no less than we need to. She states, “The time-consuming nature of weaving necessitates brevity. I am always seeking to communicate as much as possible with the simplest of forms; it is a continual process of stripping things down to their essence.” Working with our hands can help us step away from our screens and return to our senses, to the magic of it all. While all of us may not be called to this specific practice, we can all glean from the lessons it offers; to enter into the unexpected beauty that occurs when we bestow our attention to that which lies before us, to gracefully respond to the ebb and flow, even when the bigger picture of life eludes us.
The future of weaving –an art with a rich and complex history –lies with those who have been patient enough to understand its nuances, histories, and endure its intricacies, all while maintaining their unique artistic voices. I asked Christabel how she sees the future of tapestry weaving evolving, and she hopes for experiences of tapestry art so immersive that they transcend any need for documentation, allowing the viewer to abandon their smartphones and surrender to the experience. Some of us have been trained to look at paintings, to examine brush strokes and colours or even try to extract meaning, but next time you find yourself in the American Museum’s Textile Room, why not practice these same techniques in front of a piece of textile art; allowing yourself to be swept up in the beauty of the weaving tradition. n
ABOVE: Going to the Desert to Count the Stars by Christabel Balfour
