Slow Cloth: The Quality of Expression

When I started this blog, I had a big general intention to make my lifelong passion for textile art, craft and design a more central focus in my life, and to connect with others doing all kinds of work with textiles and fiber. So far, so good. I also had several specific areas I wanted to explore. One of these was my somewhat fuzzy idea about Slow Cloth, as I called it -- an authentic approach and relationship to textile art, craft, fashion and design. I've made some headway here, and articulated ten qualities or characteristics of my Slow Cloth philosophy.  This post is the first in a series exploring those qualities in depth, starting with no. 10 -- expression -- as we work our way up to joy in the process, that magical experience that keeps us committed to art and craft. This is my way of finding meaning and connection in the things I make and do, identifying it as a lifelong pursuit, an adventurous, graceful, creative, healing, spiritual, artistic path.

Slow Cloth is Expressive of Individuals, Communities or Cultures.

Textiles have been with us for thousands of years, and in that time, cultures have developed their own vocabulary and style to express and communicate values and meaning. These systems can be incredibly rich and nuanced. In the height of the geisha era in Japan, it's said that anyone could "read" a kimono -- the pattern on the fabric, the colors, the way it was worn -- and glean an incredible amount of information. Everything meant something. The textile arts were a way of telling stories and communicating that was unique to the culture. Yet even those not fluent in the language could appreciate the sheer art, beauty and character of the objects and the ways they were worn and used.

The idea of individual expression through textiles or art is more recent, from a historical perspective, but gives us unlimited capacity for freedom, imagination and creativity. We no longer have to be anonymous, as so many artisans and craftspeople have been through the ages, using the language of the collective in their designs -- we can create our own languages and symbols.

The Slow Cloth approach doesn't put a high value on efficiency or making everything identical. The hand of the maker wants to be seen and be evident, whether the maker is an individual or a community or a culture, or all three.

In our time, cultures influence each other and are interwoven. We have the great luxury of being able to see and share textiles from all over the world, in an instant. I love the idea of honoring and using cultural traditions while interpreting them in contemporary ways that feel right for today, and that's what I see so many wonderful textile artists and designers doing. Art and craft are not static -- they are living energies that need new practitioners to keep them alive, new contributions to the DNA. There is value in preserving the knowledge and techniques that give us a foundation for the new.

For those of us who are modern nomads who have moved around a lot, who feel an affinity with many groups and yet don't identify too much with any one, that in itself is something to express. Some artists and designers ultimately want to "go home" and work with the communities where they began, like Natalie Chanin. Others travel far to learn and experience the crafts of lives very different from their own.

To think about: what is your work expressive of? What traditions do you work with or respond to, which communities, which cultural influences? What inspires you? How do you speak with cloth, color, stitching -- and what do you want to say?

Photo: © Tran Thi Hoa / World Bank

Comments

[beadbabe49]

As an artist born in europe but raised in the pacific northwest (washington, oregon) and with family and history in both places, I have found my work reflects both the natural world and cultural influences of both places.
But always, and probably forever, it's the natural world I return to for inspiration...my choice of colors, forms and materials are based on the cool, moist, green and blue world I live in.

[Acey]

Have been thinking about this post for a number of days. Was raised by women who loved working with textiles and collecting fabrics that held a strong personal resonation. So I am hardwired to think along those lines - to think of stitching as another form of language and, also, prayer. The latter aspects have been important to me since my late teens. In school I studied ethnopsychology, ethnobotany and comparative religion - all three of these subjects gave me a lot of opportunity to absorb the details and gestalt of sacred art from a variety of indigenous cultures. Quite often that art is cloth-bound and/or heavily reliant on needle skills. In the past few years I've realized I can track that ongoing influence to many aspects of my creative work - the materials I choose, how I use them, and overall look(s) that I find most appealing and meaningful. Once I noticed how much this consistent trail of influence was expressing itself, I began to consciously amp it up in a number of ways. As time passes I've found that it evokes methodology and intentions that can sustain my ongoing efforts without becoming rote or disconnected from continued personal growth and life themes.