The title of the Textile Museum’s current exhibit, “By Hand in the Electronic Age: Contemporary Tapestry,” is confusing and ambiguous. What, exactly, does “by hand” mean, especially in the context of the “electronic age”? Artists, after all, usually create with their hands. Is “in the electronic age” meant to imply that they now do it differently somehow? If so, the implication is, on the evidence of this exhibit itself, misleading.
Most people still think of tapestry as a historic art form, first popular on a large scale to create wall coverings in medieval castles. Tapestries also were favored in the Italian Renaissance, when artists made exact copies of painters’ preliminary drawings.
Subjects have changed completely since medieval and Italian Renaissance times, as is illustrated by the pieces exhibited in “By Hand” — by Hungarians working with their changing political and aesthetic environment and by Americans experimenting with the expressive possibilities of tapestries.
For example, Livia Papai, one of the strongest Hungarian artists in the exhibit, wove “Here Is Your Crib and Future Grave …” of copper, tin, linen, silk, plumb bob, metal box and pencil.
Curator Rebecca Stevens says the artist was inspired by a line from Mihaly Vorosmarty’s “Szozat (Summons),” which she says is the most important 19th-century Hungarian poem. Miss Papai translates the line as: “Constant insistence on personal freedom and independence in life and death,” a reminder that Hungarians can make choices now after their long oppression.
Miss Papai obviously looks to minimalism in the West in making her three sharp-edged, tapestry-covered rectangular boxes piled against each other. The curator writes that the artist’s use of tapestry gives a human touch, while the hand tools symbolize the making of a responsible life.
By contrast, the American Jon Eric Riis creates exceptionally opulent tapestries that explore questions of self and conceptions of beauty. During visits to Italy with its rich sculptural tradition, Mr. Riis — the best artist in the show — began exploring present and historical notions of beauty.
He embellishes his “Masked Muses” (a witty play on Antonio Canova’s famous “Three Graces”) of silk, metallic thread, freshwater pearls and turquoise beads with orange, yellow and brown hair coverings; transparent masks; and bodies woven of metallic thread.
The artist further explores identity and beauty in his gleaming “Heart of Gold Female No. 1” and “Heart of Gold Male No. 2.” He first makes Chinese-shaped metallic gold coats that can’t be worn, then opens them up to show internal organs, such as intestines, inside. They’re obviously shocking and force viewers, as Miss Stevens asks, to consider “who we are — what is seen on the outside and what lurks inside of each of us.”
Confronting environmental destruction near his native Quebec City, Canadian Marcel Marois creates a “Rain” series in which he anticipates that rain will renew the site of a large-scale fire caused by humans. If viewers didn’t know the series was supposed to be an abstract consideration of the stages of life, destruction and rebirth of a fire-ravaged forest, they probably wouldn’t look too closely at the images because the compositions are a bit too similar for easy viewing.
Stronger is Mr. Marois’ very large black-and-white “Space-Combustion,” in which he says he questions man’s role in the cosmos. It’s unfortunate that this artist’s work is exhibited so close to Mr. Riis’ superior tapestry weavings.
The section on the Hungarians is even more uneven, reflecting the unfortunate isolation of many of these artists from recent art movements in the United States and Western Europe. Still, there are several exceptions, such as Eleanora Pasqualetti’s innovative tapestry-covered columns titled “Cloister.”
The curator says she chose the artist to show that tapestry weaving can take on three-dimensional forms. Miss Pasqualetti recalls in the exhibit label that tapestries often were used to enclose architectural columns and were not always wall-hung in medieval times. She says she uses the title “Cloister” to evoke the peace and serenity of those times.
Gabriella Hajnal creates the most playful and colorful work of the Hungarian section. She mixes Paul Klee-like heads of brilliant reds and blues to show what she sees as the character of human relations.
Another impressive piece, and the centerpiece of the dramatic, two-story main gallery, is Krisztina Kokay’s enormous “Celebration of Delight.” She employs the three main types of tapestry weave — slit tapestry, dovetailed tapestry and interlocked tapestry weave — for an attractive mixture of textures. Yet visitors can wonder what she’s celebrating with her rather somber mix of muted blues, grays and whites.
While it’s obvious that the Hungarians here would benefit from more exposure to Western modernism and that the two North Americans surpass them in ideas and techniques, the museum has nevertheless provided a valuable service in mounting this exhibit. Artists from countries different from ours should be shown so Americans can see what’s going on in the rest of the world.
WHAT: “By Hand in the Electronic Age: Contemporary Tapestry”
WHERE: Textile Museum, 2320 S St. NW
WHEN: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Saturday, 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. Sunday, through Sept. 5
TICKETS: Admission is free, with a suggested donation of $5
PHONE: 202/667-0441
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