Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘needlework’

Photo: Andrés Altamirano.
“The Collective Map of Paths” is needlework created by immigrant women in New York City.

A needlework cartography project that some of the textile makers call ‘un mapa extraño (‘a weird map’) uses emotional parameters rather than a birds’ eye approach to mapping migration journeys. The inventive results are one more reason to love the richness that immigration has brought to our land. (Always recognizing that the original in habitants may have a different view of all us immigrants.)

Amalia Uribe Guardiola writes at Hyperallergic, “For the past two years, I have been working with two immigrant-led costureros: circles of women from all over Latin America that gather to create textiles together. Located in different community centers in Northwestern Queens in New York City, these spaces have become a safe haven for many undocumented, working-class immigrants. …

“The first group, BordeAndo, was founded in 2018 as a community engagement initiative of the Queens Museum, though it soon grew beyond the institution to become an independent collective. Its name plays with multiple meanings in Spanish: bordar (to embroider), borde (border or frontier), and the suffix –ando, which evokes movement or walking. Most of its members come from the Ecuadorian highlands (la Sierra), though others are from the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, and Mexico. They range in age from 30 to 83 and have lived in the United States for between 10 and 50 years.

“Las Comadres Bordadoras was founded in 2021 in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic by two Mexican immigrants, who sought to bring women out of isolation and foster a mutual support network. Their name, also difficult to translate, gestures toward camaraderie and kinship. The comadre refers specifically to women who are, in their words, ‘a midpoint between friend and family.’ The comadres come from Mexico, Cuba, El Salvador, Uruguay, Colombia, Ecuador, and Argentina; range in age from 35 to 75; and have lived in the United States for between two and 30 years. They mostly embroider Mexican cloth napkins, but all forms of needlework are welcome. …

“Last year, BordeAndo and Las Comadres Bordadoras were the protagonists of ‘Thread of Voice / Un hilo de voz‘ at the Queens Museum. The exhibition, which I curated, featured Andrés Altamirano’s photographs of the costurero members along with film by documentarian Eleonora Privitera. …

“I see these costureros as living archives — as sites where craft traditions converge, and concrete embodied and material practices connect geographies of affect and displacement, like a woman knitting a stitch learned by her grandmother back home or another embroidering a napkin for the altar of a dead loved one whose grave she cannot visit because of her migratory status. “Text” and “textile” share an etymological root — the Latin verb texere — that reveals both that texts are woven and textiles written. In this sense, textiles are texts that we have forgotten how to read. …

“Based on the premise that mapmaking should not be a practice exclusive to traditional ‘expert’ cartographers, I invited the women of the costureros to make a collective map of their migration paths. ‘Where to begin? What to draw?’ many asked at first, reluctant to make the first stitches when faced with the blank surface. I proposed not drawing a croquis of the bird’s-eye view of either northwestern Queens or their home countries because it would prescribe their drawings. … Drawing a map freehand invites the women to express with their own hands and dimensions geographical and emotional landmarks, rooted in their own experiences and in dialogue with one another.

“Collectively, we chose three spatial parameters for the textile project: there’ — homeland, point of origin — stitched on the edges of the fabric; ‘path’ — journey, trail — stitched on the middle; and ‘here’ — destination, arrival point — stitched in the center. The map has been worked on in public libraries, community centers, the Queens Museum, and the homes of over 10 women. It is still in progress, moving between costureros. I consider it a countercartography because it does not abide by the dominant parameters of mapmaking — scale, legend, orientation, grid — but is rather dictated by the subjectivities and hands of its immigrant Latin American makers. It, too, is also an archive, a growing document of the transnational memory of its makers, ever changing, ever growing.”

More at Hyperallergic, here. No firewall but membership is solicited. The article was part of a series focusing on underrepresented craft histories, researched and written by the 2025 Craft Archive Fellows, and organized in collaboration with the Center for Craft.

Read Full Post »

Photo: John and Suzanne’s Mom.
Chunghie Lee‘s bojagi style “No-Name Women Paper DuRuMaGill”: photo images silk-screen-printed on Korean mulberry paper dyed with ground oriental ink stick. At Lexington Arts in Massachusetts.

My friend Ann, the textile artist, put me on to a new/ancient type of quilting and fabric art. It’s from Korea and it’s called bojagi.

According to the websit for Beyond Above Publications, “Bojagi (Bo-Jah-ki), or wrapping cloth, is the ancient Korean folk tradition of making pieced textiles for both everyday and ceremonial use. Originally made by anonymous housewives to fulfill a practical need along with an artistic impulse, Bojagi and its techniques have recently gained attention outside of Korea due to the increasing interest in the value of handmade items, as well the use of recycled materials and the politics of sustainability in textiles and contemporary art.”

I would never know about this type of thing, but Ann is on every email list imaginable for textile art in Greater Boston and beyond. So one day I headed over to Lexington Arts and Crafts to see contemporary bojagi by artist Chunghie Lee.

Apart from appreciating Lee’s skillful needlework, I was struck by her use of sustainable materials: previously used fabrics, mulberry paper, and ground-up ink sticks for red and black dyes. Especially moving was her focus on “no-name women,” the anonymous people behind this technique to make scraps of cloth go far. Women unknown and unappreciated.

You have to look closely to see them. Lee brings them into her work with silk screens of old-time photos, barely visible. Which is why for this piece I am showing you only a close-up.

Close-up of silk bojagi “no-name women” piecework by Chunghie Lee.

Here is more detail from the publishing company Lee founded with Jiyoung Chung, a visual artist inspired by the Joomchi papermaking tradition.

“From traditional women’s work to contemporary sustainable textiles, bojagi works include delicately pieced and hand-stitched traditional bojagi, reinterpreted bojagi, wearable pieces, installations, and wall hangings.

This uniquely Korean art form made by anonymous ancestors has evolved from functional works into a contemporary art form that is embraced worldwide.

“Since the late 14th century, every household, from the royal palace to the thatched-roof hut in a mountain village, has found these wrapping cloths indispensable. The tradition of making and using bojagi was established during the Josun Dynasty (1392 – 1910), when women were restricted from leaving their households. To spend the long, tedious hours of the day, girls were taught to sew at age ten, and needlework became a big part of their lives as they moved into  adulthood. This folk art tradition was the only escape from the sequestered lifestyle of Korean women, and provided them with an artistic outlet for creative expression.”

Chunghie Lee adds, “I see this patchwork as a metaphor for human life. We may feel ourselves to be as random pieces of fabric, alone and without meaning, but God’s hand places us together in a beautiful composition, which has great harmony and meaning. As artists of all nationalities, generations and heritages, we discover we are all alike, and have been saving and making beautiful things with discarded fabric and other materials. In the eyes of artists, fabric scraps can be transformed and repurposed to fulfill the design and vision of the creator.”

More on bojagi at the website for publishing company Beyond Above, here. Follow Lee on Facebook, here.

Below, Chunghie Lee’s contemporary version of Korean piecework, followed by her careful stitching for “No-name Woman with Head Covering.”

Read Full Post »