In my current project, Wearing, I unravel the braided rugs common in old houses, to make them into what they may have been. Through this work I acknowledge the labor of anonymous women makers through time. Braided rugs were made by working class women from moth-eaten coats, worn blankets and clothing; their wear reveals the imprint of humanity going about their daily lives. I unbraid each rug, then press and sew the strips into cloth. The unbraiding reveals a myriad hidden patterns and exuberant hues. Lines of dotted holes indicate the years of tread marks eroding the fabric. Leopard-like spots of dirt pressed into the exposed parts of the braids reveal human movement through time. The process of making these is something like an excavation, uncovering what the rugs hide in between their braids, and admiring the craft and labor of each anonymous maker. I keep the remaining original rug tethered to the object, to allude to the cyclical nature of materials and shifting boundaries of the objects and their lives. Often I make pieces with specific women in mind, from historic to contemporary, and I invite contemporary artists to model the pieces, connecting and listening to voices past and present — fragile and strong, loud, seething and quiet; no longer invisible.
This ceremonial outfit honors my grandmother Catherine Rehill. Catherine left Ireland in 1927, where she subsisted on foraged dandelion leaves—salvation and punishment collected daily in bags. Arriving in New York City, she found employment as a seamstress at B. Altman’s department store as part of a team that oversaw rug installations for businesses and residences. Once installed, the carpet edges needed to be bound; this was Catherine’s job. Her costume is made from the unbound and pieced worn braided rug attached. Holes and marks of dirt reveal wear from the tread of feet across the rug over time. Hand cut copper dandelion leaves encircle the rug below, and above, yellow corn-on-the-cob holders reference the farmhouse Catherine saved money for, and eventually owned in Hadley, Massachusetts. The cornfields planted there were a source of joy and nourishment. The copper shoes are based on ceremonial shoes from ancient burial sites, placed to symbolize safety and hope on the journey in the afterlife. Copper’s conductive properties and warm red color evoke the sense of care and warmth my grandmother was known for, qualities I think about and thank her for each day. 3.
The ironing board covers are made from worn stockings that have been unraveled and pieced together from the rug on the floor. Perhaps the rug’s maker worked in or near a textile factory that made knitwear. Look closely, and you will see many of the heels and toes have been darned, revealing individual care, devotion and labor, also expressed in the rug design. The holes in the iron covers were made by feet—feet that wore socks like these. I can’t seem to iron my clothes, but I spend countless hours at ironing boards working on art. The simple architecture of these boards makes me think of shields, sentinels and guardians, and is a reminder of women’s unacknowledged labor across time
I pieced this tent from worn braided rugs and pitched it on a ridge at the Ucross Foundation in Wyoming, in acknowledgment of our ongoing refugee crisis and displacement of peoples, including the Cheyenne, Crow, and Lakota nations. The holes in the fabric, revealed when I unravel each braid, are from the wear of feet over time.
Braided rugs were traditionally made by working class women from moth-eaten coats, blankets and clothing; their wear is the evidence of humanity going about their daily lives. For this piece, I unbraided part of the rug on the floor, then pressed and sewed the strips into cloth to re-find the blanket within. The unbraiding reveals a myriad hidden patterns and exuberant hues. Lines of dotted holes indicate the years of tread marks eroding the wool. Leopard-like spots of dirt pressed into the exposed parts of the braids reveal human movement through time. The process is something like an excavation, uncovering what the rugs hide in between their braids, while admiring the individual craft and labor the rug’s anonymous maker. I kept the remaining original rug tethered to the object, to allude to the cyclical nature of materials and shifting boundaries of the objects and their lives.
The garments surrounding the rug were made from it. This magnificent space at the Art Center at Duck Creek opened a rethinking of the installation as a site of contemplation and transcendence. The rug at center echoes the form of of a rose window in a Gothic cathedral while the restored barn acts as a facade. All the garments surrounding the piece hover around the suspended rug, and are fabricated from it. I chose not to tether the garments to the rug to express an experience beyond the physical.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
This rug is mostly cotton and dates from the 1960s. I pieced all the strips into sections of fabric to create yardage--fabric purchased to make the shirts, table covers and curtains this maker cut up for the rug.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
An worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric & then made into an article of clothing that may have been cut up for the rug. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid.
A worn braided rug was unbraided, pressed, pieced together into fabric. The holes are from the passage of footprints over time, the dirt spots reveal the unhidden surface of the braid. Much of the fabric was never stepped on, due to the braiding process, so some really surprising patterns and vivid colors emerge!