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The Textile Arts Center in Carroll Gardens did not bill the inaugural “Artists in Residence” exhibition as a feminist project. But here, women’s labor of the millennia, work produced in and for the sphere of the home, to cover themselves, to envelop others, was assembled under the heading “art” rather than the diminutive “craft.” Pieces by the Center’s six resident textile artists asked the viewer to think hard about process and meaning. What is the impact of women’s work? What is the compounded meaning of techniques developed by millions of unmemorialized hands?
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“Paradoxes abounded on ten panels of fabric: scrawled handwriting was executed in painstaking embroidery; the scale of private scribbles was magnified; the major problems of our age-labor, systems, languages-were transmitted through a domestic medium.”
Julia Ramsey, Engaged: Tied Up, 2011. Silk yarn, rayon ribbon, silk woven fabric, organic cotton knit fabric, synthetic tulle, 8 x 10 1/3 ft. Courtesy of the artist.
Fibers of Brooklyn: A Woman’s Work
Kate Meng Brassel
The Textile Arts Center in Carroll Gardens did not bill the inaugural “Artists in Residence” exhibition as a feminist project. But here, women’s labor of the millennia, work produced in and for the sphere of the home, to cover themselves, to envelop others, was assembled under the heading “art” rather than the diminutive “craft.” Pieces by the Center’s six resident textile artists asked the viewer to think hard about process and meaning. What is the impact of women’s work? What is the compounded meaning of techniques developed by millions of unmemorialized hands?
Jill Magi, LABOR: What is the meaning of my No? (Detail), 2011. Hand embroidery on muslin, dimensions variable. Courtesy of the artist. Whitney Crutchfield, Path, 2011. Plywood and ink, 72 x 74 in. Courtesy of the artist.
Denise Maroney, Visibly Veiled, 2011. Silk organza and silk chiffon with cotton thread embroidery, mobile 5 x 5 x 5 ft. Installation view at Textile Arts Center, Brooklyn. Photo credit: Rhea Karam. Courtesy of the artist.
Three artists tackled socio-economic issues through fiber media. In LABOR: What is the meaning of my no?, Jill Magi presented fragmented thoughts on economics and labor, black streaks over traditional motifs almost invisible in white-on-white embroidery. Paradoxes abounded on ten panels of fabric: scrawled handwriting was executed in painstaking embroidery; the scale of private scribbles was magnified; the major problems of our age-labor, systems, languages-were transmitted through a domestic medium. Denise Maroney’s Visibly Veiled, a suspension of sheer, colorful burkas, reinterpreted one of the most potent and divisive symbols of today. Her work can be seen in the “Voices” section of this issue. Tali Weinberg presented her Notes on Cures for Depression, an installation of plants, grass, writings, tea, and weavings that was as much a thesis as a collection of textiles. Weinberg seamlessly incorporated the histories and futures of economics and textile crafts into a (terrifyingly) smart yet inviting installation.
Astrid Lewis Reedy, Monochromatic Series (No. 3, 2 & 1), 2011. Left to Right: Cotton, muslin, felted wool, assorted sheer fabric scraps, 35 x 45 in. Cotton and recycled linen, 32 x 46 in. Recycled linen, 38 in. x 45 in. Courtesy of the artist.
Tali Weinberg, Notes on Cures for Depression, 2011. Installation view, dimensions variable. Courtesy of the artist.
Tali Weinberg, Notes on Cures for Depression, 2011. Installation view, dimensions variable. Courtesy of the artist.
Three other artists focused on the formal potential and virtuosity of the fiber medium itself. Julia Ramsey’s Engaged was a set of two breathtaking fantasies of knitting and tulle-“dress-scapes,” as she calls them-one suspended in mid-air and the other emerging from a wall. Whitney Crutchfield’s Path, a set of vivid prints in conjunction with hand-carved wooden printing-blocks, was delightful without pretension, exhibiting joy and play in the process of producing textiles for people. Astrid Lewis Reedy’s Monochromatic, a series of panels pieced together was improvisational in execution. But urban scenes emerge out of the backlit greys and whites: fire escapes, alleys, buildings on buildings. Created as fabrics for home use, Reedy’s evocative pieces are a metaphor for the exhibition itself: the subconscious reflection of society in the intimate interiors shaped by working women’s hands.
