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Often my days are spent chasing lists of things to do and people to see, and never quite catching up. The consequent need to redress the balance in my life and to create some personal space regularly takes me off to the sea and out to isolated coastal paths.
I grew up on Merseyside and then lived on the Gower peninsular for some years, so the sea and coastal landscape have always been a strong influence in my work. Rocks, contours, space and light all provide inspiration and metaphors to express ideas and feelings within my textile pieces.
During the summer, while on holiday in Connemara, Ireland, I was particularly struck by the contrasts embodied within the landscape and found myself looking out to sea at the endless space stretching beyond and then glancing down to the rocks below. There, small creatures, shells and incidental debris were crammed into confined spaces and crannies. I felt the monumental stillness of the rocks which was contrasted by the restless movement of shingle washed by the tide, the tide line leaving a vigorous graphic mark across an expanse of unbroken sand. All around, sights and sounds seemed to counter-balance one another.
Ideas of stillness and energy are currently influencing my work. I try to get beneath the surface appearance of things to allow what is seen to become metaphors for other ideas. One idea leads to another until there are too many to incorporate into one piece of work.
In one of my old sketchbooks, I had written 'find the poetry'. Designing a piece of work is like writing a poem. Ideas have to be distilled until the essence is found. Colour, line and form become the visual language to express ideas.
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During the early days of my City & Guilds course, I was intoxicated by the vast range of techniques and materials that offered endless possibilities. That initial excitement remains with me, but now techniques have become very much the vehicle for ideas rather than an end in themselves.
When starting a piece of work I do not know where the idea is going to lead. However, from the beginning of the design process, the photographs, scribbles and notes through to the last stitch in the finished piece, I do know that there has to be a readiness to change and adjust the piece at any and every stage.
The step from design and samples to starting work on the actual piece is only the very beginning. One useful route is to take a word that describes the subject, such as 'energy', and stick torn paper shapes down in such a way as to best express the word. A number of these small collages are then made using photocopies of drawings, rubbings and photographs until the point when I find one that speaks 'energy'. This process is quick and allows me to make changes and modify ideas without getting bogged down. It also echoes the way I work with fabric: construction and deconstruction through piecing and patching, cutting up and reassembling.
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In trying to capture a feeling of stillness and light, I use restrained colour with pockets of stronger colour by way of contrast. Graphic quality of line is something achieved through use of thin strips of paper and stitch. In current work, I use mainly hand stitching. This is partly because I enjoy the process but also because it gives a greater feeling of control over the marks made.
In seeking to convey the contrasting ideas of stillness and energy, one of the hardest things to create is areas of fabric with barely any stitch, quiet areas to balance the more heavily stitched energetic ones. I often feel torn between economical Matisse-like line and areas of rich layers of stitchery. It remains a challenge to make less do more.
Within the framework of these ideas about striking the balance between stillness and energy, there will be further challenges, more exciting journeys with fabric and thread, and new coastlines to explore.
This article is from The World of Embroidery, Volume 51 No.2, © Jen Chamberlain.