between subject and materiality
To develop thoughts of “in-betweenness” in my work, brought by reflections on the line as both a divisor and connector, I tried to explore materiality as a way to evoke meaning in the symbolic field. I'm attracted to the subtlety in which materiality can dialogue with what is in the realm of the intangible.
I continued focusing on surfaces with transparency to observe what happens on the the back of the surface at the same time as the front, aiming to evoke the thresholds of interior and exterior, hidden and revealed, the harder to access and the commonly seen.
The use of light fabrics such as voile and organza, and tracing paper, is a way to explore aspects of memory and life. As they are materials that can be easily damaged, I hope they can bring to mind the feelings of fragility and ephemerality. By leaving a blank/empty space around the figures, I expect to evoke a breathing space, a silence or stillness, away from the complex entanglement of lines and threads. Those are the ways that I respond to the surface, from the feelings I get when I see them and when I get in touch with them.
The touch is vital to the process, as there’s the mark-making of the drawing and the stitching of the embroidery. In a recent tutorial with Gavin Edmonds, he mentioned that the drawing is the memory of all of my touches, of all of my lines, in this moment that my body moves and touches the surface. “Each mark you leave is a memory”, Gavin said. This felt very special, as I realized another layer of intimacy and memory inside my own process. The mark-making and the stitching are both related directly to temporality, and the result (either made by threads, graphite or ink pen) feels like the remembrance of this previous moment of encounter — in which I recognize the existence of the materiality, and the materiality recognizes my existence, through my body.
This term, I tried to be more aware while responding to the materials, reacting to the feelings and thoughts that they were evoking on me, as a starting point of the process. In Daily reminder, for example, the color of the paper made me nostalgic while thinking of “post-it” notes that my family members used a lot throughout my life to make notes or random marks; from that, the work started to develop on the idea of reminders/to-do lists and small aspects of everyday life. For Impermanence, the circular format of the embroidery hoop made me reflect on cycles and phases, on continuity.
Recently I came across the works of Beili Liu. Even though Liu’s practice is focused on cultural and environmental concerns, I felt that some aspects of it resonated somehow with my practice, or impacted me to reflect on my subject matter. One of her projects, The Mending Project, consists of iron scissors suspended from the ceiling, pointing downwards, while a woman performs a task of mending.
The work evokes the feeling of being (and existing) in a threshold: between the stillness and silence of the mending process and the anxiety of this possible aggression. Thus, the stitching process, at the same time that brings things together and evokes healing, also alludes to a certain level of violence, through the act of piercing a surface. This brings the feeling of the threshold as existing on the edge, or maybe signifying balance, but always filled with oppositions that highlights its complexities.
Another recent reference is David Spriggs. His use of layers made by transparencies is what allows the image to be seen, but every time one walks around the installation, the image changes and the layers start to act in a different way. It always depends on the point of view, on the movement of one’s body. This is something I tried to bring in my summer show work, in which the images started to connect to one another when seeing it from another angle. The position of the body is an essential element. As the image changes, I feel that the aspect of ephemerality is evoked through Spriggs’ work, in a way.
Layering became an important aspect for me: it’s a way to explore the intertwining of lines and how the figure becomes increasingly complex when in relation to another figure; it can evoke the sensation of movement, of touch, and connection; it can be metaphorically related to the idea of diving deep into someone’s interiority (as humans are multi-layered).
Chiharu Shiota’s practice was already a reference, but I returned to look at the artist’s exploration of texture, thickness, knots and other characteristics of textile materials, and how through that physical aspect they become a deeper metaphor for reflections about life and death. Through her work I get inspired to pay attention to those physical qualities of the thread I use to communicate different ideas.
When speaking of materiality, it’s also important to acknowledge the environmental impacts of the tools and materials used in the process and the repercussions of the finished piece. This awareness is something that I want to embrace more consciously within my own practice, and I realize I need to further research the origins and production of the materials in the first place to better understand how environmentally impactful they are and in what ways I can reduce this impact.
In terms of tools, I feel that my waste production is low, as needles and scissors last for years; the pens, however, have plastic on their exterior and need to be purchased more frequently. In terms of fabric, I’m aware that the textile industry causes a lot of pollution in terms of production (besides issues of labor exploitation and pollution from disposal), therefore I usually keep the small pieces of fabric that are not being used at the moment for future works, instead of discarding all of the cut pieces.
Possible measures I can think of implementing in the near future are finding second-hand fabrics (or produced with recycled materials) to work with, and paying attention to the origins of the paper and the fabrics I’m using — as paper can be a renewable resource, as well as plant-based textiles. In terms of finished pieces, I believe that a point to be more aware of is its outcome: where it will go, where it will be stored, whether it will be discarded or not. I currently keep all of the works I’ve done so far at home, but I’ll keep track of their final destination as time passes by.
References
Beili Liu (2011) The Mending Project [Iron scissors, fabric, thread, needle, table, chair]. Available at: https://www.beililiu.com/The-Mending-Project (Accessed: 26 oct. 2024).
Chiharu Shiota (2019) Lifelines [Old freight wagon, red wool, old chair]. Available at: https://www.chiharu-shiota.com/lifelines (Accessed: 28 oct. 2024).
David Spriggs (2022) Black & White [Acrylic paint on layered transparencies, lightbox, framework]. Available at: https://davidspriggs.art/portfolio/blackwhite/ (Accessed: 26 oct. 2024).
Beili Liu. The mending project, 2011. Variable dimensions.
David Spriggs, Black & White, 2022. 382 x 458 x 222 cm.
Chiharu Shiota, Lifelines, 2019. Variable dimensions.