I am a Seattle based visual artist who works in the medium of hand woven tapestry. Tapestry weaving has been my primary form of expression for twenty years and I have exhibited my work both nationally and internationally. You can view my CV here, and you can learn more about me and my process in my blog.
A common theme in my work is the experience of time, especially those defining moments that reference personal transformation. My goal is to capture the emotional impact of life's liminal experiences in visual form. To me, the slow progression of tapestry weaving makes time feel almost tangible, and amplifies the impact of the imagery.
I am attracted to the tactile qualities of tapestry and how the cloth absorbs the light, producing deep, saturated color. Making tapestry is continually engaging, involving constant decision making and an element of risk - risk, because one cannot go back and fix a design or a color choice once that area has been woven over. Also, because the work gets rolled under the beam of the loom as I go, I never see the entire tapestry until it is completely finished. Every tapestry is a bit of a surprise in the end, and always, a satisfying achievement.
The word “tapestry” gets applied to many forms of fiber art for the wall, but by definition the term refers to a specific weaving technique used to create imagery in cloth. The warp threads run vertically and form the armature for the weft threads. The image is created by the weft, building line by line, in discontinuous shapes from the bottom up - like building a stone wall – a separate group of threads for each color. It is the only form of weaving that has never been mechanized. It can only be achieved by hand. It is a very old practice and there are many different tapestry traditions in the world. The tradition that I was taught was perfected in Europe in the middle ages, when large workshops wove elaborate, mural sized tapestries to adorn castles, palaces, and churches. Most contemporary tapestry is produced by individual artist weavers like myself, on a much smaller scale. So, what's in your castle?