sandy

Last week I traveled to Scotland to site and photograph the latest gravestone cosy for my Uncle Sandy. Close Knit began in 2009 and I have three more graves to find to finish this body of work. My intention is to complete the project this year.

Work in progress

Sandy, 2016

over and under

Thrilled to be exhibiting with Lucy Williams during the Leytonstone Arts Trail which began today in various venues in E11, London. Over and Under is showing at The Stone Space until the 13th of July. We both haven't exhibited for a couple of years so the trail provides a perfect opportunity to tentatively open up practice and meet local folk.

This is our joint statement:

We met at an Arts Trail meeting earlier this year and found a connection with our practices, the cross overs are the materials we use and thought processes and concepts behind the work. We use time consuming methods, working by hand to stitch and knit exploring issues such as belonging, absence and place. We also shared that finding time for our practices was a challenge and hoped that setting this goal could provide a springboard into making more work.

We decided to use the Leytonstone Arts Trail to begin a conversation between selected works. We wonder how meanings may alter and new ideas emerge from this staging and the possibilities of future conversations together. 

Over and Under at The Stone Space

Selection of works from my Close Knit project

Lucy Williams, Worn Jackets (detail), 2014. Jackets, wool and buttons

 

violet

Close Knit is a project I conjured up in 2009, a way of working with family graves, landscape and textile process. The sixth gravestone cosy has been problematic and led to a pause in the project that I'm picking up again after three years. This work involves the practical: researching and finding graves, traveling to them, measuring, photographing, creating a knitting pattern, knitting the pattern and then returning to photograph the work in situ. This part of the process simply requires a desire to make the work and action. The less tangible is tuning into what would be the 'right' colour for a relative, many of whom I knew only vaguely, some who were dead before I was born. With Violet I've had my biggest struggle to date, odd really when she is my only relative who's name is a colour.

I began to make Violet's cosy while living in Sheffield. In a department store I bought six balls of lilac wool, my first hunch on her colour. I knitted the whole front panel of the cosy and didn't enjoy it one bit. The wool was poor quality, knotted in places and I had to cut away knots and create joins in the knitting, easy to hide but irritating. When I'd knitted the panel I found my colour choice too obvious for a lady who died in her early 80's. I unravelled the knit and gave the wool away. Next I bought six balls of purple wool, didn't knit too much of this and quickly realised this was wrong too. It didn't 'feel' right and this project is as much about feeling and intuition as it is about practical choices.

This week I've begun again, and am sure this time. I've booked tickets to Bristol for early April, giving myself a challenging deadline to finish the work which I'll site three years since my last visit to her grave on a beautiful spring day.

Aunty Vi was shy, beautiful and gentle. My mum's favourite sister.