issue 60 writers corner

 We’re excited to announce the Writers’ Corner for our recent open call on the theme of TEXTILES.

This showcase brings together artists and writers whose work explores textiles not just as material, but as memory, metaphor, and message. Whether through tactile experimentation, storytelling, or critical reflection, each piece invites us to consider how textiles connect us to the past, to each other, and to the deeply personal and political stories woven into cloth.

Join us as we unravel the complexity of this medium and highlight the voices that are reimagining what textiles can say and do. Joining these writers are our resident artists, poet Peter Devonald and artist Michaela Hall.

We have two special pieces by our editors, artist Jenna Fox, as textiles appear a lot in her practice, and an installation piece by artist Nichola Rodger

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The Emotive World of Textiles

When I look through the inventive, wonderful submissions that feature textiles for this issue, it causes me to pause and consider my practice.

While I find it difficult to categories myself as to which form my work takes, one thing has been a frequent go-to is my use of textiles, specifically to create sculpture.

The pieces rarely use traditional crafting or textiles for their original, intended purpose. The reason is that I view textiles from the perspective of their context and the emotive connections they bring to the table. 

Examples are the tent made from soft toy pelts (by my alter ego, Eva, "Millie's Tent" 2025).

The concrete covered children's dresses (by my alter egos Eva / Ava, "Moments" 2025).

The tower is made from fabric lamp shades and little girl princess dresses (also by Eva, "Be my Princess").

Each dress, shirt, or fabric has an intrinsic connection to the self. How can they not when, in the main, they are used close to our skin, such as clothes or bed linen. They reflect our identity of how we want to be kept warm and show the world our style choices. Or they connect us to our homes, life stages or aspirations. 

As a raw material often I can often source them from charity shops or ask for the items they can't sell if there is no fire label. 

The discovery of a new medium that is textile and working with the connection that material has to our identity is a joy.

BIO - Jenna Fox, MA RCA, is a British artist whose PhD research explores alter egos as a way to tap into alternative and sometimes conflicting creativity within her practice.

Alter egos enable her to question identity and place.  The inside, the outside, boundaries, viewpoints, and the movement between the two.

She uses playfulness and humour as a coping mechanism and a way of exploring complex, often troubling topics in an accessible way through painting, sculpture, and installations.  

Contact Details

https://jennafoxartist.weebly.com/

@jennafoxartist

@eva_ava_artist

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Poet in Residence: ​Peter Devonald

Textures 

The texture of angora wool,

elegant, thick and vibrant,

to keep us warm in winter,

too itchy for her granddaughter,

expensive and just lying there,

a memory of our history, unspoken.

The texture of hope,

another march, another remonstration,

his flag crafted with such deep belief,

that we should be better than this,

crafted cloths and straggly banners,

the textiles of a better world, dreaming.

The texture of sorrow,

a sweat shop, working for pittance for other

people’s clothes, other people’s fashion,

working conditions that make you sick,

suffering for other people’s cheap garments,

the textiles of trauma, of dying, for survival.

The texture of the future

of memory, a promise, of a better world,

an awareness of this global village,

the impact we all have on each other,

our choices lead to equality for others,

our lives lead to the texture of living.

……………………………………………………………..PETER DEVONALD - LATEST AWARDS……………………………………………………………….

·      2025 No One Lives Here Anymore. Delighted to have won The Broken Spine Readers’ Choice Award 2025. Huge thanks to everyone who voted, Alan Parry, and Broken Spine Books.

Four of their anthologies I am in are available on Amazon, including High-Rise Poetry Anthology.

·      2025 Daffodils in December commended (final 5), Bermondsey and Beyond Poetry Prize.

Festival finale Sunday 16th March at Canada Water Library in Rotherhithe. I wish to thank the Festival Co-organiser Pat Kingwell, the judges, and everyone involved.

 ·      2025 Spring Sorrow commended 3rd Flash Fiction contest, Wildfire Words/Frosted Fire. Winner’s Celebration 17th May at 7 pm London Time on Zoom. Published in Wildfire Words in May

·      2025 Ennui à Nuit shortlisted Perpendicular Poetry Prize

Peter has lots of news, and coming soon, the links in information can be found on our blog here…

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More than material - by Michaela Hall

Textile art, and the material basis that gets its classification as that, is often misunderstood as craft or hobby rather than the paintings and sculptures that gain tags as ‘gallery’ or ‘classic’ art. While this was true centuries ago and textiles were often not represented in fine art, this has changed massively over the history of creativity and contemporary artists are pushing the boundaries of what textile and material art can be and how it can be perceived, it’s a contender among the old trusted classic disciplines to be just as powerful, inspirational and groundbreaking in a gallery space.

Like most of us, it’s probably fair to say that when you hear ‘textile’ or ‘material’, images of small squares of fabric with embroidered patterns come to mind. While there’s nothing wrong with this art form in itself, which is beautiful and valuable in its own right, it’s this exact perception that some artists have worked their whole life to break.

It would feel unreasonable and wrong to be speaking about art with a material focus without focusing completely on the legends of the art world who pioneered the use of fabric to (literally!) new heights. Those artists are, of course, Christo and Jean-Claude. The husband-and-wife duo are famously known for their vast ‘wrapped’ installations that see an environment or landmark being taken over completely by fabric and material. One of the most impressive works to date under their name is the complete wrapping of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris – this iconic landmark was wrapped completely in metallic cool silver and blue fabric, held together with rope. Another unbelievable achievement in terms of pushing the boundaries was their 1983 project, ‘Surrounded Islands’, whereby they outlined an actual island archipelago in Miami with hot pink fabric – completely changing the landscape. What the duo managed to achieve in their artworks via the pure use of material as a focus was enormously significant – it put ‘textile’ art on the agenda at a time when this was unusual and showed how fabric can change the whole perception of something familiar to something completely new in our world.

It’s important to note that the duo were also very forward-thinking in terms of sustainability and the environment, utilising recyclable materials and not using just anything to swamp large parts of our nations in, something that wasn’t a given in the earlier days of their career, yet in society. A lot of audiences read multiple meanings into the reason behind the pair’s decision to work in this way and indeed some believe that this was an environmental statement, covering our environment in something which isn’t unkind to the planet, to draw attention to it. 

However, others believed that these wrapped projects were more of a political statement, with the artists having experienced communist governments through their lives, some claim that monuments and well known national landmarks may mean something very different to those with such experiences and that taking control over them in such a dramatic way for creativity is a statement of power and freedom.

Then, of course, there is the belief that these theories are not true, and more so, considerations in a purely visual and compositional boundary-breaking approach to installation, sculpture, and most importantly, material.  

The truth is that the artists, although alluding to various reasons, never fully explained exactly why – and perhaps this is the beauty of the situation. Even from just the two examples highlighted of many more, it’s clear to see the sheer power that fabric in this situation had in very different environments. No matter the motive or true concept behind the work, these creative pioneers paved the way for all of those working with material and textiles today to truly change the way it can be used and perceived. Thanks to Christo and Jean-Claude, artists were given the freedom to think of fabric in a new way, as much more than just material.

 by - https://www.instagram.com/michaela_hall_artist/

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Threads of Life: The Use of Fabric in Mother Art and Child-Based Art

Artist name - Alexandra Mueller - Instagram @dreaminghobohemia Website www.kunsthausmueller.co.uk

Biography - Female artist mother, and academic based in North Yorkshire.

Fabric has long been the medium through which stories of domestic life, emotional intimacy, and generational continuity are told. In the context of mother art—a term that encompasses art created by mothers, about mothers, or exploring motherhood—and child-based art, fabric transcends its utilitarian roots and emerges as a powerful artistic and symbolic language. Often dismissed in traditional high art due to its associations with femininity, domesticity, and craft, fabric is now being reasserted as a medium of political, emotional, and maternal expression. This shift signals not only a reclamation of women’s and children’s creative labour but also an act of defiance against patriarchal art historical hierarchies.

At its core, mother art is deeply intertwined with the materiality of care. The act of mothering is tactile: wrapping, swaddling, clothing, holding, and soothing. Fabric is thus not only symbolic but functional—it envelops the mother-child relationship. When artists use fabric in their mother art, they are often drawing attention to these embodied experiences. For example, the repurposing of baby clothes, blankets, or nursing covers into large-scale textile collages or sculptures serves to monumentalize the minutiae of caregiving. Each stain or tear carries a history—a spit-up, a feeding, a tantrum, a moment of joy. These marks, often perceived as flaws, are instead honoured as traces of lived motherhood.

Miriam Schapiro, a pioneering figure in the feminist art movement and a co-founder of the Pattern and Decoration movement, brought fabric into the spotlight as a medium deserving of respect. In her “femmages”(a term she coined to describe feminist homages made with fabric), she elevated the traditional work of women, such as quilting, embroidery, and appliqué, into high art. These pieces, rich with floral fabrics, lace, and domestic motifs, assert that the maternal space and the feminine interior are worthy of both aesthetic and intellectual consideration.

For Schapiro and many artists who followed, fabric was not just a medium, it was a metaphor. It represented the domestic realm, the unseen labour of women, and the tactile presence of care.

 In mother art, the process of making with fabric often mimics the repetitive, nurturing tasks of caregiving: stitching, folding, layering, knotting. These actions mirror rocking a baby to sleep or folding endless piles of laundry. They are gestures of devotion, exhaustion, and repetition, imbued with the quiet resilience of the maternal body. The meditative act of sewing also provides many artist-mothers with a creative sanctuary within the chaos of motherhood. While oil paints or installations may be too time- or space-consuming, needlework can be paused and resumed, folded away, or integrated into the rhythms of domestic life.

 Fabric also plays a central role in child-based art, which refers to art either created by children, inspired by children, or collaboratively made with them. In these contexts, fabric provides a sensory-rich, accessible medium for exploration. Unlike rigid materials, textiles are forgiving. They invite touch. For neurodivergent children or those with sensory processing differences, fabrics offer a wide range of tactile experiences—from the smoothness of satin to the roughness of burlap, the stretch of jersey to the weight of felt. This sensory dialogue allows children to engage in embodied learning and emotional regulation.

Artists and educators working with children often use fabric in community art projects that centre identity, storytelling, and belonging. For example, collaborative quilt-making allows children to create individual squares that represent their experiences, which are then stitched together into a communal whole. This process teaches them about cooperation, empathy, and the beauty of difference. It echoes the maternal gesture of gathering fragments, memories, hopes, bits of cloth and turning them into something cohesive and warm. The quilt becomes both artefact and archive, stitched with the narratives of many small hands.

Moreover, fabric in child-based art can challenge traditional boundaries of authorship and aesthetic value. Children’s mark-making on cloth, through painting, printing, or sewing, is raw, experimental, and often unconcerned with formal constraints. When mothers or adult artists preserve and incorporate these pieces into larger works, they are making a political statement: that children’s creative expressions are valid, that the domestic is not lesser than the institutional, and that intergenerational creativity matters. This collaborative process also echoes maternal pedagogies, wherein learning happens through shared activity, affection, and exploration rather than top-down instruction.

 Contemporary artists such as Tracey Emin, Louise Bourgeois, and Faith Ringgold have all used fabric to explore themes of motherhood, memory, and childhood. Bourgeois’s fabric sculptures, often made from her own clothing and linens, embody the personal and the familial. Her use of soft, worn materials speaks to the vulnerability of the maternal body and the erosion of time. Emin’s embroidered blankets, raw with confessional text and sexual trauma, blur the line between intimacy and exposure. Ringgold’s story quilts, rooted in African American traditions, blend narrative, activism, and familial love. Each of these artists, in their own way, uses fabric as a conduit between mother and child, memory and present, trauma and healing.

The use of fabric also intersects with cultural traditions that center women’s textile arts as both spiritual and familial practices. In many Indigenous, African, and Eastern traditions, fabric is imbued with ancestral memory. It becomes a vehicle for prayer, identity, and protection. In West African cultures, the wrapping of infants in patterned wax cloth connects them to heritage and cosmology. In Japanese boro textiles, the careful patching of worn garments reflects philosophies of mending, impermanence, and maternal stewardship. These traditions remind us that fabric is not neutral—it carries the fingerprints of generations, the codes of kinship, and the textures of survival.

In modern Western contexts, textile-based mother art often functions as a reclamation of time and identity. For many mothers, particularly in the early years of child-rearing, time is fragmented. Artistic practice must be squeezed between nap times, feedings, and school runs. Fabric allows for this fluidity. It can be folded, paused, carried in a bag, or stitched while watching over a child. The portability and domestic familiarity of textiles make them ideal for a maternal creative practice. Moreover, incorporating the physical remnants of motherhood—crib sheets, maternity dresses, hospital tags—into artworks allows mothers to process the shifting terrain of identity, from woman to mother, from individual to caregiver.

 In educational settings, fabric projects offer children a way to externalize emotion and construct meaning. The act of choosing fabrics to represent feelings or memories supports emotional literacy and narrative thinking. Children may not have the verbal sophistication to articulate grief, fear, or joy, but they can express it through textures and colours. A piece of red velvet might signify love, anger, or warmth. A frayed cotton square may hold the story of a beloved toy or a moment of loss. Through fabric, children are permitted to create their symbolic language—a language that adult artists can also learn from and honour.

 Fabric’s presence in both mother and child-based art also challenges the modernist myth of the solitary genius artist. These works are often collaborative, dialogic, and process-oriented rather than product-driven. They value connection over mastery, ritual over spectacle. This ethos aligns with feminist principles that prioritise care, embodiment, and relationality. In a capitalist art world that often prizes speed, innovation, and individualism, the slow labour of fabric-making, with its threads, its tangles, its need for patience, offers resistance. It tells a different story. One of the community. One of endurance. One of love.

Finally, fabric is a medium of mourning and memory in both mother and child-based art. Many artist-mothers have transformed the garments of lost children into art as a form of grieving and remembering. Likewise, parents may preserve or display children’s early artworks on fabric as a way of holding onto fleeting moments of growth. These acts are sacred. They turn the ephemeral—childhood, motherhood—into something tactile and enduring. The fabric becomes a shroud, a skin, a second womb.

 In conclusion, fabric in mother art and child-based art is not merely decorative or practical. It is material with meaning, memory, and motion. It embodies the maternal instinct to protect, to hold, to mend, and to tell stories that are too often silenced. Whether stitched by weary hands at midnight or splashed with colour by a laughing child, fabric carries within it the essence of care. It is art that breathes, folds, and remembers. It is the texture of life itself.

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“Weeshh Thi Wurr Eer”

@nicholarodgers.artist see more of this Installation here…

Nichola Rodgers' installation Weeshh Thi Wurr Eer is a poignant exploration of the intertwined histories of British textile labour and working-class leisure, particularly in the North West of England. The title, rendered in regional dialect, evokes the voices of mill workers and the cultural fabric of the industrial communities of the North. This piece garnered recognition as a finalist for the Best of the Net art prize in 2024, underscoring its impact and resonance within contemporary art discourse.

In Weeshh Thi Wurr Eer, Rodgers delves into the legacy of the British textile industry, highlighting the labour of women in mills and the cultural significance of their work. By incorporating elements that reference both the industrial processes of textile production and the natural materials she often employs, the installation bridges the gap between the manufactured and the organic. This invites viewers to consider the historical and environmental contexts of textile production and its impact on communities and the landscape.

The title itself, rendered in a phonetic dialect, evokes a sense of place and identity, grounding the work in a specific cultural and linguistic context. This linguistic choice mirrors the textured layers of the installation, where language and materiality intertwine.

Central to this installation is her innovative use of textiles—not merely as materials but as vessels of meaning and memory.

In "weeshh thi wurr eer", textiles become more than fabric; they transform into landscapes of emotion and memory. The installation invites viewers to engage with the tactile and the transient, prompting reflections on how materials can carry stories, traditions, and connections to the community

Through this work, Rodgers challenges us to consider the narratives woven into the very fabrics of our lives. Her installation stands as a testament to the power of materiality in articulating identity, history, and our communities.

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The Crochet Shawl

Artist name - Beccy Ware Link to Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/beccyware/

Biography

Beccy Ware is an artist based on the Yorkshire Coast. Beccy teaches art at a local college and studies for an MA Fine Art : Digital at UAL Central Saint Martins. Beccy’s current work explores themes from childhood through storytelling and the repurposing of vintage textile items.

For her tenth Christmas, amongst other presents, Susan received a copy of Chart Hits '81 and a handmade, dusty pink, crepe blouse, which brought out the stripe in her moss green Scottish dancing kilt. She spent a Happy Christmas holiday practising her dance steps to Captain Sensible’s Happy Talk. This year was to be her first Hogmanay and Susan had been nagging her mum to crochet a shawl to cover the nasty scar left by her TB vaccination.

Imagine Susan's delight, one winter evening, when she caught her Mum crocheting in front of the back boiler. "Aw, Mum I wanted my shawl in pink glittery wool!" complained Susan, as she, like all ten-year olds, was an entitled little twerp.

"I'm afraid this shawl isn't for you," explained Mum.

"Ha, it's not like my brother's going to wear it!" Snorted Susan sarcastically.

"Well, no," replied Mum carefully, "But there's going to be a baby.”

Susan was in disbelief, a disbelief she saw mirrored in her father's weary eyes. "I'm going to have a baby," elaborated Mum.

"But you're so old!" blurted Susan, for tact was never her strong point.

"Thank you very much!" said Mum "It's actually going to be a little girl." She added.

"A girl? But I'm a girl?" said Susan, confused.

"Well, yes," said Mum,, Another girl, a sister."

Susan was in shock; she checked her Dad, and he looked shocked too. She felt the betrayal deep in her small heart, which was wrenched apart, and she began to weep. "I knew she'd take it badly," Sighed Dad.

As the Days of Christmas week passed, Susan became numb to the baby news. A hastily crafted pink, glittery shawl was laid in appeasement at Susan's tyrannical feet, and she danced her fractured heart whole on New Year's Eve, with her best friend Alison. Alison was an only child to older intellectual parents, who bought her copies of National Geographic, and consequently, Alison was desperate for a sibling to play with. Jealousy brought out the best in Susan, and she deigned to tolerate the situation.

Mum smoked through pregnancy so her bump was small. It was, therefore, somewhat of a surprise when Susan was woken one night, two days before her birthday, to the sound of the front door slamming and the car driving off. She climbed out of bed and joined her brother in the second-best bedroom. "Do you think Mum will be back to make my birthday cake?" she asked him nervously.

"It's all going to be OK," he replied stoically from his conservative M&S blue striped pyjamas. Susan found these pyjamas particularly reassuring as she had recently borrowed them for her silver lifesaving badge at the local pool. Her own lightweight, lacey efforts proved inadequate for inflating into a life-saving device. She had struggled with the nappy pin her mother had provided to keep the oversized PJS in place. A struggle which mirrored her struggle to accept this addition to the family.

Dad arrived with the dawn, dishevelled, disoriented and drawn, to drive them to the hospital. Mum was in good spirits after proving the doctors wrong about her age, her smoking, her refusal of all tests, and her disregard for medical advice in general.

The baby was brick red and angry with a shock of black hair. Susan's patched heart softened slightly and she suggested, "Let's call her Rose-Marie."

"What a lovely name!" Replied Mum diplomatically as Dad looked horrified. "Let's think on it for a few days, there's no rush."

Susan found she had to hold the baby more often than other people because, as Mum often pointed out, Susan had a lovely calming effect on her. Susan would sometimes take the baby to her room and sit her on the bed, giggling in delight, as she practised her dance moves to Captain Sensible. When the baby got sleepy, Susan would lie next to her and hold her tiny hand until the baby's heartbeat synced with her own fully restored heart.

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