Current issue | Letters Online | What's on | Webwatch | About us | Previous issues | Contact us | Subscribe/renew | Index | Terms & conditions | Your basket
Walking into Patcham Community Centre with my boxes for the first time, I was very nervous and excited. In front of me, a group of serious looking ladies sat in lines equipped with note pads and pens ready to take action. Such a classroom atmosphere!
I had no intention of being a teacher for the hour and just wanted to share the work I had made and have a fun time with them. There were no special techniques or secret recipes to be revealed; they probably knew much more than me. Soon, after some reorganisation by the secretary, everyone was sitting in a horseshoe shape forming a mini cat-walk ready for volunteers to do the modelling. It was cosy and friendly and, after passing round a few bracelets, we were like old friends, chatting, joking, laughing and sharing experiences. We had a lot in common, it was an enjoyable meeting.
Click the image to see a bigger version
Indeed my work had led me to a lot of like-minded friends who were determined to keep traditional crafts alive. Looking back, I was pleased that I made the decision, twenty-two years ago, to come to England to study art. The Wood, Metal, Ceramics and Plastics course at Brighton Polytechnic turned out to be ideal for me. I was encouraged to be myself and explore materials in a way that I had never done before.
At that time (the early 1980s), the 'New Jewellery' movement was in full swing. Many artist jewellers in England and Holland had questioned the meaning of jewellery. They challenged the commercial way of selling precious gemstones and metals as the only form of jewellery. The 'design' was to highlight the stones and precious metals to impress and to reflect status: 'Diamonds (not jewellery) are a girl's best friend'. These artists created wearable pieces using non-precious materials and everyday items to convey their ideas, ignoring the intrinsic value of materials. The meaning of jewellery had entered into a new era. Fresh pieces of innovative 'jewels' filled the craft scene in abundance. The excitement of seeing a quiet revolution happening had affected my way of seeing jewellery. Then I was as determined as ever to become a 'new' jeweller.
Click the image to see a bigger version
During the mid-80s, my strategies changed. I tried to extend my 'jewels' to the whole of the female body. I turned to my culture and traditional background for inspiration and remembered, in my childhood days, the numerous outings to the Chinese operas and the images of spectacular costumes and head-dresses studded with sequins and beads. There followed months of research on dress making and embroidery techniques. A series of embroidered gowns were produced, each with a contemporary interpretation. The cutting of fabrics and the embroidery experience were extremely inspiring. Further experiments with nylon monofilament, simple techniques like knitting, knotting, tying, weaving and plaiting were so satisfying. I was able to construct a three-dimensional form with an almost crush-free character. Nylon is light, warm to the touch and is very suitable for wearable objects. Suddenly, the ideas and the making process seemed to come together naturally. This was wonderful. This was where the work that I am doing now originated.
Click the image to see a bigger version
Meeting Embroiderers' Guild members made me realise the importance of sharing: learning from each other's failures and successes, the joy, the pain and especially the therapeutic value of craft work. Here are artists expressing ideas in their minds with their own hands using materials as their vehicle. Their work is filled with diverse influences that not only enrich and enhance the quality of the makers' lives but also complement the modern, high-tech, fast moving society that we live in.
This article is from The World of Embroidery, Volume 52 No.1, © Nora Fok.