Embroidery, weaving and fabric decoration have often been dismissed as crafts rather than arts, relegated to “women’s work”. But a series of exhibitions this summer casts new light on the political power and importance of textiles in all their forms, from Brexit tea towels to dresses embellished with symbolic patterns.
Palestinian embroidery is the focus of the exhibition Material Power at Kettle’s Yard, Cambridge, and its evolution from tradition to a form of political protest. Threads is a group show at Bristol’s Arnolfini that covers postcolonialism, migration and gender in its displays of weaving, knitting and stitching – including work by artists Anya Paintsil and Raisa Kabir.
Textile artist Alice Kettle is co-curator of Threads. Kettle won this year’s Brookfield Properties Craft Award and also has a solo show, To Boldly Sew, in London.
All three shows run until the autumn, when The Fabric of Democracy opens at the Fashion and Textile Museum in London. This delves into the history of how fabric manufacturers and designers create works of political propaganda. Then there’s the British Textile Biennial, held in Lancashire. Artists are exhibiting work inspired by “textile waste colonialism”. Victoria Udondian, Jeremy Hutchison and Sunny Dolat of Nest Collective are all addressing the western practice of dumping unwanted textiles in countries such as Ghana and Chile.
Fashion historian Amber Butchart is associate curator for the biennial and curator of The Fabric of Democracy. She says: “Historically, in Europe and America, textiles were dismissed by the patriarchal art establishment as inferior to painting and sculpture, which have been prioritised in galleries. Textiles have long been viewed as ‘only’ decorative, even though feminist artists and scholars such as Judy Chicago and Louise Bourgeois have questioned this.”
Butchart says that activist messages are also commonly associated with public rather than domestic spaces. She wants to show how furnishings and fashion can be political. Fabric of Democracy includes Chinese quilts – dahua beimian – decorated with symbols during the Cultural Revolution such as factory chimneys and scientific equipment. There’s also a ‘‘Got Brexit Done” tea towel, which was, briefly, official Conservative party merchandise when the UK left the EU in January 2020.
“It features an image of unity even though Scotland and Northern Ireland voted to remain in the EU,” says Butchart.
The Material Power exhibition features clothing as items of political protest and gives important space to an underrepresented group. “Palestinian women are not people that we think of as having historical record,” says the show’s curator, Rachel Dedman. “But the things they make have a fascinating and powerful connection to the political realities in which they live.”
Garments on display feature motifs such as doves clutching guns in their claws and the letters PLO stitched into traditional designs. The colours of the Palestinian tricolour were used in clothes made in the early 80s, a time when it was forbidden to fly the flag.
“These textiles defy what we think of as the material culture of protest,” says Dedman. “We normally think of scrawled signs and banners, but these have taken years to make with each stitch done by hand. The notion of steadfastness is central to the Palestinian resistance, and I think this embroidery embodies that.”
Alice Kettle, professor of textile arts at Manchester School of Art, says she felt she could speak more powerfully through textiles and stitching than any other artistic medium. “It lets me be authentic and myself.”
Kettle thinks that the pandemic ushered in a more widespread interest in making and also a better understanding of the therapeutic side of handcrafting. “People realised there’s a broader aspect to the arts, that they help us shift our focus on the world.”
She also points out that our western-centric view of the arts is irrelevant to many nations. “There isn’t that definition of fine-art practice – art is about creativity and that’s normally bound up in materials.”
Many British institutions are currently looking at the legacy of colonialism in their collections and featuring a wider range of creatives, especially female artists. “I think there’s a wider appreciation for telling women’s stories,” says Dedman. “This goes hand in hand with textile art.”
Butchart also thinks the trend for shows about materials and protest are a sign that our view of culture is changing.
“Textiles and clothing are deeply woven into the cultural heritage of humanity. Adorning the body has always been a means of communication. I think it’s great that museums and galleries are catching up.”
LONDON (AP) — With a few daubs of a paintbrush, the Brontë sisters have got their dots back.
More than eight decades after it was installed, a memorial to the three 19th-century sibling novelists in London’s Westminster Abbey was amended Thursday to restore the diaereses – the two dots over the e in their surname.
The dots — which indicate that the name is pronounced “brontay” rather than “bront” — were omitted when the stone tablet commemorating Charlotte, Emily and Anne was erected in the abbey’s Poets’ Corner in October 1939, just after the outbreak of World War II.
They were restored after Brontë historian Sharon Wright, editor of the Brontë Society Gazette, raised the issue with Dean of Westminster David Hoyle. The abbey asked its stonemason to tap in the dots and its conservator to paint them.
“There’s no paper record for anyone complaining about this or mentioning this, so I just wanted to put it right, really,” Wright said. “These three Yorkshire women deserve their place here, but they also deserve to have their name spelled correctly.”
It’s believed the writers’ Irish father Patrick changed the spelling of his surname from Brunty or Prunty when he went to university in England.
Raised on the wild Yorkshire moors, all three sisters died before they were 40, leaving enduring novels including Charlotte’s “Jane Eyre,” Emily’s “Wuthering Heights” and Anne’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.”
Rebecca Yorke, director of the Brontë Society, welcomed the restoration.
“As the Brontës and their work are loved and respected all over the world, it’s entirely appropriate that their name is spelled correctly on their memorial,” she said.
