Saberah Malik: Rhythms of Filtered Light

“Betrothed, Better Halved, Buried," 2011, 9" x 9" x 3" each; gold leaf, painted wood boxes, styrene mask; ori-nui, tsukidashi kanoko shibori on silk dupioni; polyester fabrics; enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: What is your principal fiber process?

Saberah Malik: I work in shiborizome (絞り染め), the Japanese art of resist dyeing, often shortened to shibori. The first character is a Chinese logogram that means ‘to strangle, constrict or wring,’ but it also has connotations of shiborikome, ‘refine or narrow down.’ The third character is also Chinese and means ‘to dye, color, paint, strain or print.’

"Coral," 2005, 44”x 27”; tsukidashi kanoko shibori (spaced dots) on silk dupioni.

SM: When working with silk, I usually incorporate dyeing, painting, and splattering. I am also increasingly giving surface pattern to three-dimensional forms in polyester, as in the current work with stones.

"Broken Boundary," 2012, 6" x 36" x 18"; ink, polyester fabrics; marbling, enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: Although shibori is often textured, it is primarily associated with two-dimensional work. Yet you also call your three-dimensional work shibori.

SM: Yes. Focusing on ‘strangle, constrict, wring, and refine’ and the manipulation of fabric as the key concepts, I consider my three-dimensional work shibori even though it may not always be dyed.

"Un-glassed II," 2010, 16" x 48" x 24"; silk organza, polyester fabrics, plexiglas; enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: Do you think you will eventually consider this new body of work an entirely new technique?

SM: It’s too early for me to comfortably claim it as a self-developed technique.  I’m still experimenting and innovating the most efficient ways of molding fabric to form, and rely heavily on the principles of shibori. Specifically, my process of crafting fabric sculpture has been an expansion and enhancement of the shibori technique of oboshi, that is, capping large motifs. In this work, the ‘motifs’ are actual objects that are stitched into the capping process on an individual basis, releasing a freestanding fabric object.

"Apothecary," 2009, 12" x 12" x 8"; silk organza, metallic polyester textile scraps, metal washers (bases); enhanced oboshi.

SM: When I first started practicing shibori, it was more traditional immersion-dyed work, mostly on silk. In transitioning to working in the round, I initially used silk organza remnants and re-purposed silk garments. Although it lacks the tactile sensuousness and level of visual warmth of silk, I am increasingly using polyester for cost effectiveness, and hopefully, structural integrity and longevity.

My process starts with basting, then machine stitching fabric over my chosen form (thus far, bottles and stones). I close the entry opening tightly with hand stitching, and in the case of bottles, bind the neck. Then I boil these fabric-covered objects, and after cooling, undo the entry seam to pull out the ‘mold.’ If I decide to add surface patterns, which range from immersion dyeing to marbling, splattering or gilding, I do so before extracting the ‘mold.’ I re-stitch the entry seam by hand to finish the piece. Sometimes I build on the shape by adding forms that ‘grow’ on the object. I have recently added a final finishing step, that is, to spray fixative on the completed shapes.

"What Will I Be," 2012, 14" x 40" x 18"; toy calves, plexiglas, polyester fabrics; enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: Was there an “Aha!” moment when you knew this expansion into three dimensions was something you wanted to explore, or was it a gradual evolution?

SM: My early shibori pieces were two-dimensional and dealt with landscape elements, particularly rocks, rich in texture and three-dimensional surface detail. From there it was a natural progression to arrive at my current work.

"Red Crevasse," 2008, 66" x 26"; maki-age, arashi shibori, discharge, on silk dupioni.

SM: Landmark inventions and new pathways in art or science are often defined by happenstance, the coming together of hitherto unrelated or diverse phenomena, described by the Japanese term datsuzoka, that is, fresh creativity, surprise.

In an effort to depict the imagery of foaming water, I covered fairly large wooden spheres in silk organza to form bubbles. The success of that experiment prompted me to try forming other shapes. Successfully molding fabric over a small jam jar was indeed my Aha! moment. I continued to experiment with an ever greater assortment of shapes and sizes and with varying weights and textures of silk and polyester fabric. The propensity of fibers, both natural and synthetic, to retain the memory of constriction and expansion through physical and thermal manipulation, provided the requisite qualities for transforming flat fabric into sculptural forms.

"Lapis," 2010, installation (dimensions variable); polyester fabrics, plexiglas bases; enhanced oboshi.

SM: Developing craft is usually a gradual evolution. My earlier work utilized double fabric layers in the belief that it would better lend itself to structural stability. A vision of duplicating the perceived effects of light filtering through glass led to a bolder use of single layers and even more transparent fabrics.

The last two and a half years have been a magical journey of exploration, first with bottles collected from friends’ recycling bins, and more recently, with stones gathered from my own back yard and the Rhode Island shoreline.

"China Trade Surplus: Twelve Days to Christmas," 2011, 72" x 72" x 24"; aluminum, pre-embroidered silk dupioni, china silk lining; enhanced oboshi.

SM: The illusion of volume in this body of work has more to do with the surprise and dichotomy of an artifact like dense, heavy, hard stone or glass transcribed in light, transparent, soft fabric. As the Korean artist Myung Keun Koh has written, “Transparency embodies not only temporal transience, but also spatial emptiness; it enables us to see through the inside and feel the inner space overlapping with the outer space, providing a different sense of space.” I believe it offers an equally renewed perception of the original forms used in my current work.

"Teetotaller's Recollections," 2011, 14" x 48" x 16"; plexiglas bases, polyester fabrics; enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: What kind of artwork were you doing before you started working with shibori?

SM: My early work was infused with a profusion of arabesque patterns on surfaces grand and humble, on objects ceremonial and profane; my coming of age happened in a culture where decoration was a dirty word. I postponed a career in art and design in order to be a full-time parent. During this hiatus, I exercised my creativity by working in watercolors, the least toxic and space requiring medium. Towards the end of those critical parenting years, I chanced upon a course in Decorative Finishes on Wood, and started using those techniques to paint on cut-out wood forms, often over gilded surfaces.

I painted a body of calligraphic images that I refer to as ‘Written Painting.’ I also painted a series of rocks inspired by the multitude of stones that are such an integral part of the New England topography.

In 2002, I chanced upon a community college course on surface design that introduced me to shibori and the limitless possibilities of manipulating fabric. I acquired a fresh set of skills that launched my current work. Working with fabric was in so many ways a distillation of my South Asian heritage (with its respect for and indulgence of textiles as symbols of status or utility), and my education in graphic and industrial design.

"Black Rock," (diptych), 2005, 39" x 24" each; mokume, arashi shibori, discharge, on silk dupioni.

SM: Now I have the challenge of fusing two diverse vernaculars into a modern idiom. Part of the fun has been to utilize what was lying around, or to look at fabric bolts and let the colors and patterns suggest an appropriate usage.

TSGNY: Does this three-dimensional process pose any particular challenges? How have you overcome them?

SM: I tend to work on a large scale. There is a definite limitation in how large a freestanding fabric form can exist before the integrity of its shape or the equilibrium of its structure is compromised. I overcome this limitation by working with smaller forms that I assemble into larger compositions.

"White Bend," 2010, 13" x 96" x 24"; pre-embroidered polyester fabric, plexiglas bases; enhanced oboshi.

SM: There is also a logistical limit to how large a jar or stone I can use because of the weight and size that my hands or the boiling utensil or stovetop at home can handle.

TSGNY:  Does your new process enable you to do things you have not been able to do in any other medium?

SM: In another life, I would have liked to be a glass artist. Working with sheer fabrics in the round is the closest I can come in creating sensory rhythms of light filtering through colored surfaces embellished with pattern. Light filtering through colored or patterned fabrics, whose randomly intersecting fibers create moiré patterns, is perhaps even more magical than light filtering through glass.

"Net Worth," 2010, dimensions variable; casting net, polyester fabrics; enhanced oboshi.

SM: Working with a transparent medium — be it glass or fabric — the flow of space between the inside and outside is blurred as the negative volume of inner space interacts with the positive volume defined by outer space. Transparency makes us question not only the spatial relationship of objects, but challenges the inherent qualities of sculpture itself as solid mass defining a particular form.

Working with stones I am aware of our instinctive and learned perception that equates stones with dense, heavy, static mass. That perception is contradicted by seeing stones described in an airy, light, and fluid material, redefining the property of volume.

"Gardener's Bane," 2011, 8" x 20" x 20"; immersion dyes, markers, polyester fabrics; handpainting, splattering, resists with rubber bands, cellophane; enhanced oboshi.

TSGNY: Has your intent changed as a result of working in this process?

SM: In embarking on textiles as an art medium, my instinctive intent was to create the most beautiful, unusual and otherworldly surface patterns on silk. As I discovered the ability to turn flat textiles into defining volumes, I now conceive, visualize and execute my work as three-dimensional installations. The focus is no longer exclusively on surface.

My work now deals with the concept of imperfection on two levels. First is the Islamic belief that perfection lies only within nature and hence, when mere mortals represent nature it is only an imitation and therefore less than perfect. Second is wabi sabi, the Japanese concept of appreciation for the imperfect, the impermanent.

"Stone Zone," 2011, 4" x 16" x 16"; polyester fabrics; enhanced oboshi.

SM: Even as I hand pick stones for their natural beauty, the results in duplicating are far from perfect. Yet this work can be appreciated precisely for those imperfections (visible seams within the forms) as inherent attributes of the material I use. It also addresses the impermanent; impermanent as the artwork may be, stones change form through evolutionary passage of time. Glass bottles break.

TSGNY: Finally, are there any living artists who inspire you who you feel we should know about but may not have heard of?

SM: I became acquainted with Afruz Amighi’s work when she won the Jameel Prize in Islamic Art at the V & A. Her work weaving metal into delicate, decorative filigree, as well as her paper cut-out series ‘1001 Pages,’ is inspirational for me. Raised in a culture of arabesque designs that profusely cover surfaces both lofty and mundane, I am inspired and guided by other artists’ use of a decorative idiom translated into a contemporary aesthetic. The other would be Maureen Kelman, who has been my mentor since I did an independent study with her. Fortunately, I had not seen her work till my own work had been channeled into its present form. I share with Maureen a three-dimensional approach to textiles as an art medium, and labor-intensive means of reaching our goals. But Maureen works in non-representational motifs in abstract, yet expressive images, and that aspect of her work continues to inspire me.

TSGNY: Thank you, Saberah. You can see more of Saberah Malik’s work on her website.

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Leisa Rich: Please Touch

TSGNY: How do you describe your artistic process?

Leisa Rich:  My main artistic method is free-motion embroidery, which is done by dropping the feed dogs on a sewing machine (the teeth underneath the sewing foot that pull the fabric along while you sew) and using a special foot adapted for this purpose, effectively “drawing” with thread. I use various types of stitching methods: embroidery floss in the bobbin, heavy threads, tension play and more.  I’m able to push the stitch in unique ways.

"Happy Toadstool," 2011, 36” X 48” X 32”; repositionable fabric, felt, dyes, vinyl, thread, acrylic paint; free-motion stitching, hand-dyed and painted.

LR: My materials include dissolvable paper, sheets of glue, acrylic paint and vinyl. Many of these materials have just come on the market in the last few years, so possibilities are constantly opening up. In the future, I’m hoping to collaborate directly with the manufacturers.  The variety of manipulative methods and the wealth of new materials make free-motion embroidery endlessly exciting.

TSGNY: Did discovering these new materials alter your intent?

LR: No, I chose these materials because they were perfect for the concept I have been working with recently: human interaction. Viewers can play and reconfigure my components to form their own compositions and stories.

"Architects in Flux," 2010, 88" X 108"; repositionable fabric, vinyl, thread; free-motion stitching.

LR: The interactive pieces are clear vinyl stitched to white vinyl; sometimes I include acrylic paint and other colored vinyl or fabrics in the design. These pieces can be pulled off and repositioned by the viewer on special fabric backgrounds. The works are 2D as well as sculptural. Installation — creating my own interactive world — is my favorite way of presenting my work.

"Architects in Flux," 2010, 88" X 108" (interactive view).

TSGNY:  Was there an “aha!” moment when you knew this kind of interaction was something you wanted to explore, or was it a gradual evolution?

LR: I would say I have been intentionally moving toward more human interaction in my art for several years now. Fiber art is so tactile that it is a shame humans — who innately love using their very sensitive fingertips to touch and explore — are not allowed to experience art physically.

"No Sense Crying Over Spilled Milk: Altering the Course," 2010, 87" X 52"; vinyl, thread; free-motion stitching.

LR: When I was a small child I was deaf and spent considerable time in the hospital. My mother brought me beautiful Barbie clothes she made from her work suits. I loved the feeling of the satins, laces and nubby silks as I dressed my dolls. Living in that silence for so long made me crave human interaction; those early experiences, combined with the thrill of finger-painting in the hospital art room, led to a lifelong passion for all things textural and a need to touch.

"No Sense Crying over Spilled Milk: Altering the Course," 2010 (interactive view).

LR: In 2009 I had a solo installation exhibition, “Beauty From the Beast,” which featured a 25 foot by 20 foot “garden” made of the detritus of mankind, fabrics, free-motion stitching that also included lots of other mixed media and incorporated an assortment of fiber techniques such as quilting.

"Beauty From the Beast," 2009, 25' x 20' (dimensions variable). Mixed media: obtainium, fabrics, plastic drinking straws, vinyl; free-motion stitching, hand-dyed and painted, rolled, constructed, quilted, applique.

LR: There were pathways people could walk on in the garden; they could touch the bubble-wrap flowers and rearrange the “grass” rocks. However, that level of interaction was still not enough for me; once they were done, everything went back the way it was, so it was still “my” piece as opposed to “our” piece. The new work is much more interactive and the viewer has more of a stake in it.

"Beauty From the Beast," 2009, bubble-wrap flower bouquet.

TSGNY: Given your love of the textural and tactile, what other fiber processes have you explored?

LR: I have been an absolutely obsessed fiber artist since 1975. It’s hard to think of a fiber technique I haven’t explored since. I was a serious weaver for a number of years, which included dyeing with plants, spinning, basketry and more. I graduated from the University of Michigan in 1982 with a degree in Fibers.  I went on to become a designer of knitwear on both loom and knitting machine and a hat/ jewelry and wearable artist with a successful company designing for tv shows and stores, until I moved to the island of Kauai in 1998. I had incorporated free-motion stitching in many of these works but it was really then, due to the confines of living in a tiny island house with room only for a sewing machine, that I returned to stitching and started expanding my free-motion repertoire. At that time much of my work utilized mixed media and themes of women and children’s issues. When I went back for my Master of Fine Arts in Fibers at the University of North Texas in 2007, the questions I had to ask myself as an artist led to my present way of interacting with my viewer.

“(in)CONSEQUENTIAL,” 2007, dimensions of installation variable; plastic drinking straws rolled in dyed wool and sliced, stuffed, stitched, dyed wool amoeba forms; free-motion stitching, constructed, stuffed, rolled and sliced.

TSGNY:  Does your process pose any particular challenges?

LR: Well, the “do not touch” rule is still a pretty hard one to overcome. Most galleries and exhibitions are not comfortable with allowing viewers to “play” with a work. This limits the exposure of the audience; they are relegated to a passive role, which is not satisfying to me. I just completed a permanent installation piece for the Dallas Museum of Art’s new education center that will be completely interactive. Everyone will be allowed to enjoy it all of the time! I’m striving to get more of these kinds of commissions. I really love to take people to a happy place, in light of the often depressing and difficult world we live in.

TSGNY:  Are there any living artists who inspire you who you feel we should know about?

LR: Andy Goldsworthy’s installations are fleeting and lovely. I enjoy the way that he can interact with nature and then allow it to reclaim the works after he is done. His art makes it possible for humans to think of doing it themselves, creating their own sculptures as a method of self-expression without being intimidated by fancy materials or intimidating art classes.

TSGNY: Thank you, Leisa.

You can see more of Leisa’s work on her website, her blog, her teaching blog, and on Facebook.

"Beauty From the Beast," (2009); recycled plastic tablecloths, felt, vinyl; free-motion stitching, constructed mixed media.

 

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Lorrie Fredette: 110 Elements A Day

Lorrie Fredette lying under a section of her installation, The Great Silence (suspended just 30 inches above the floor).

TSGNY: Tell us about your process and what drew you to it.

Lorrie Fredette: I paint with molten beeswax mixed with tree resin (encaustic medium) on unbleached cotton muslin that has been fitted and hand-sewn to a wire armature. While I have worked in textiles over the years, I had not previously combined them with the encaustic medium.  I began working with encaustic in 1999 but didn’t “commit” to it as a formal material in my work until 2005. The two primary materials (beeswax and unbleached cotton muslin) offer me several components that are vital to my work: translucency, controlled pigmentation, a lightweight finished object, and the ability to create a series with many minute variations. I also respond to the historical and contemporary associations of the materials.

TSGNY: Can you elaborate on some of those associations?

LF: I often draw on medical and environmental stories as inspirations for my work. Wax — in particular, paraffin — was historically used to encapsulate biological specimens.  For example, in the U.S. during the outbreak of the Spanish Flu of 1918, samples were taken from each person who passed away from influenza.  Those samples have been (and still are) stored in several U.S. federal labs. Muslin is used to make sewing patterns for garments and upholstery.  In theater, it is the ground to paint backgrounds for sets.  It is used in the culinary field as a filter for wine, cheese and to separate out solids from liquids like in processing apples. In the medical field muslin gauze is used in neurosurgery to wrap vessels at risk for bleeding.

A half-sewn element. Unbleached cotton muslin whipstitched over a handmade and soldered armature.

TSGNY: Encaustic is usually a 2D medium. Are there any challenges to using it in 3D work?

LF: I work just outside the limitations of my materials.  It is recommended that wax be applied to a rigid surface for 2D work, since bounce can cause cracking and/or detachment from the substructure.  I create 3D elements and work on hollow forms. I think the very taut substructure and the multiple layers of paint decrease the risk of cracking.  Fusing between painted layers (heating each layer so it molecularly attaches to the layer below it) dramatically reduces the possibility of fracture.  Other materials would be less expensive (I used more than 275 pounds of wax for The Great Silence) and take less time to make.  But for now, these materials support my intent.

The foreground shows several painted elements that have been strung for installing. The middle ground shows several sewn and one half-sewn element.

TSGNY: How did you develop the process of creating the multiple elements that go into your pieces?

LF: I realized that in order to create the serial elements, I needed to be able to construct my own armatures and quickly determined that I needed to learn to solder.   This was before iChat, SKYPE and Facetime came into existence; I was taught how to solder by TSGNY member Biba Schutz via  telephone.  After making the armatures, I pin and sew the muslin to them in a manner similar to traditional handmade lampshades. Then I melt my wax in a 16-quart roasting pan, allowing me to paint the seven coats per pod as well as paint 110 elements in a day.

The work table covered with 55 painted elements.

TSGNY: What was your work like before you made the commitment to these materials?

LF: Before I began working with encaustic medium and returned to working with textiles, I was creating abstract figurative drawings and sculpture.  My preferred sculptural materials were combinations of wood, metal, fiberglass and plastics.  These pieces were humble in size, less than 2 feet, and pedestal bound.

TSGNY: So engaging with the new medium allowed you to change scale, and fill much larger spaces?

LF: I wouldn’t say my work changed as a result of these materials.  I think it’s more accurate to say my work changed because I wanted to be a different kind of artist, and the choice of materials grew out of that. My concept is about distortion and that concept is supported through seriality and size.  Each individual element is slightly different because of its “handmadeness.”  I believe this variation is similar to how a story is told.  Each version is slightly different from the last told by the teller.  Group those individual portrayals together and you begin to see the differences, once you get past the cacophony of the whole experience.  I make multiples not only to create site-responsive installations to fill a space but again, to alter a rendition.

Lorrie Fredette, The Great Silence. Bank of America/Hunter Gallery at the Cape Cod Museum of Art. 6 feet 6 inches H x 36 feet 10 inches W x 5 feet 8 inches D suspended 8 feet 6 inches from the floor. Beeswax, tree resin, muslin, brass, steel, nylon line. © 2011

TSGNY: Finally, is there any artist working today who inspires you whose work you’d like us to know about?

LF: One of many contemporary artists I admire is Laura Splan. TSGNY members might recall her work at the Museum of Art and Design’s Pricked: Extreme Embroidery.

TSGNY: Thank you, Lorrie.

You can see more of Lorrie Fredette’s work here and in the wonderful book Encaustic with a Textile Sensibility.

 

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