Call and Response

Anni Albers, a Bauhaus artist who used cloth brilliantly, wrote in her essay ‘Art--A Constant’, “We can recognize in material a willing bearer of ideas which we superimpose upon it... A balanced interplay of passive obedience to the dictation of the material on the one side and of active forming is the process of creating. Working with material in an imaginative manner, we may come out at the end with an understanding of art or with a work of art. For as material alone gives reality to art, we will, in forming it, come to know those forces which are at work in any creation.”

This essay is dated November, 1939. In this and other essays of that period, she refers to the confusing times. I think that often in the art we make we are trying to work out confusion. We are trying to sort through so that we may make sense of life. And here I willingly expand the notion of art to all creative impulses, including growing and cooking food, making order, making a mess, styling hair, shaving, and the rest of daily activities.

In the current issue of ‘Selvedge’ (Issue 10), a gorgeous textile magazine printed in England, an article on the use of bamboo in craft and art states, “There is a basic...respect for materials that permeates the Japanese sensibility. It is fundamental to the perception of the world around them and may be linked to the Japanese language. Studies have demonstrated intriguing differences between English children, who are likely to recognise and group simple objects by shape, and Japanese children who are more likely to focus on the material first.”

I’ve just finished another series of four textile pieces, which I am calling “Studies in the Geography of Cloth and Thread.” The material is cloth I’ve dyed, except for one small rectangle of ikat from Japan, white silk organza, thread, and the background canvas which was intended to be a drop cloth for house painters. I find myself engrossed in the conversation. What, dear material at hand, is wanted next? I stitch at all hours and am reluctant to turn my attention elsewhere. This is my devotional song right now, listening for the call, listening for the response.

I almost gave up at the third piece, ‘Steppes’. Too messy, too busy, too incomprehensible. But the movement in the materials kept me engaged and hopeful that understanding would come clear. The fourth piece, ‘Springs’, wanted great simplification. To my eye, it is the most successful, but I see that the prior three conversations with material were necessary to land at the source.

All together, they tell a story, or several stories, and they evoke in me some unspoken clarity. The doldrums of the past weeks have relented a bit and gratitude has come around again. I have no particular explanation for this shift. Empathy, kindness, patience, and the pleasure of cloth and thread suffice.