Claire Zeisler: Innovations in Traditional Fiber Art
Sierra D'Amato
20 March, 2011
In this paper, I will outline the emergence of fiber art as a recognized form of fine art, using the fiber sculptures of artist Claire Zeisler to demonstrate this progression. There is comparatively little scholarship on fiber art because it has traditionally been viewed as a utilitarian, primarily feminine craft. By examining these attitudes that persisted in the 1960s and 1970s and refuting them with analysis to reveal the complexity of select works of fiber art, I hope to validate Zeisler's work as a form of high art. The evolution of her work from flat weavings on the loom to freestanding constructions of fiber is, in itself, a representation of fiber art's definitive move from utilitarian craft to the realm of fine art. D'Amato 2
Claire Zeisler (1903-1991) experimented with fibers and off-the-loom weaving in the 1960s and 1970s, challenging the misconception that fiber art was tantamount to utilitarian craft. By using innovative techniques to create non-functional fiber sculptures that deviate from the traditional confines of weaving, Zeisler altered the medium's associations with domesticity and refuted the idea that fiber art was merely feminine handiwork. Though fiber had been used historically, mainly by women, to create utilitarian objects or to reproduce pre-existing patterns, the fiber artists realized its potential to create works of art and to expand beyond preset patterns and techniques. These artists, most of whom had formal art training, were often mistakenly equated with hobbyists who viewed weaving and other forms of fiber creation as a leisure activity or folk tradition (Auther, 17). The unwillingness of many artists and critics to look beyond these associations presented a great obstacle to the fiber artists, including Zeisler. The artistic merit of Zeisler's work, which she defended readily from biased criticism, helped legitimize fiber as a fine art medium. At the same time that Zeisler worked as an artist throughout the 1960s and 1970s, feminist scholars sought to abolish, or at least critically question, the art historical canon (Auther,
21), arguing that it was a subjective and discriminatory system established by Western males centuries ago, and still upheld without scrutiny (Auther, xv-xix). This can be traced back to the
Renaissance, when "the first claims were made for painting and sculpture as 'liberal' rather than
'mechanical' arts" (Auther, xv). Linda Nochlin and other distinguished scholars argued that this basis for evaluating art failed to consider the inherent bias of a system established by privileged men, who excluded women and other minorities from the art discipline and held exclusive access to the education and resources required to create what they deemed fine art (Nochlin, 229-333).
By extension, it glorified the traditional art mediums such as painting and sculpture while disdaining the mediums of the less privileged, such as fiber. In the 1960s and 1970s, fiber retained its association with domesticity within this discriminatory hierarchy of art. However, rather than align themselves with certain feminist scholars and artists who opposed the exclusion of so-called "feminine" or "domestic" pursuits from high art, fiber artists asserted their D'Amato 3 separateness from those associations. They desired integration into the prevailing institution of fine art, not the abolition of the canon that diminished their work (Auther, 21). Zeisler's works, though a significant example of the competence of women artists, did not contribute directly to the overtly political branch of the feminist art movement.
Zeisler's first creations were experiments with loom techniques and ancient weaving patterns (Fig. 1), but by the early 1960s her works began to take on a three dimensional quality.
Purple, 1962 (Fig. 2), though it is a flat wall hanging, consists of "countless woven and crocheted planes of various sizes, textures, and forms" (McTwigan, 7). Sealed pouches contain unknown objects that present the viewer with an element of mystery. Michael McTwigan calls
Purple "the first of Zeisler's fiberworks to pose a question to its viewers" (7): what is enclosed behind the intricate trappings? The fringes and bits of loose thread in Purple allude to the dynamic, freely hanging fibers that would characterize her later work. At the time, however, she was primarily interested in "investigating and experimenting with techniques, using them in new and personal ways to create textiles which are not only aesthetically pleasing because of design and color, but also contain elements of tactile and visual surprise, pleasure, and excitement"
(Mayer-Thurman, 15). By adding unexpected elements such as pockets and multiple layers,
Zeisler offers a refreshingly unique take on the flat tapestry (Mayer-Thurman, 15). Though
Purple signifies a small step toward three-dimensional form, it was not until later, when she was introduced to the technique of knotting, that the artist would remove her process entirely from the loom and two-dimensionality (Mayer-Thurman, 15).
"We [fiber artists] wanted to get away, you see, from the conventional wall piece. So this was all part of experimenting," Zeisler has said (Zeisler). Though this was the destination of her previous "experimenting" with fibers, there were also political reasons for liberating fiber works D'Amato 4 from the wall. To further distinguish their works from craft, which often implied adherence to a specific technique or tradition, Zeisler and other fiber artists altered pre-existing weaving and knotting techniques for unique purposes. They placed more emphasis on expression than on the decorative aspects of their work to combat associations with craft. Still, some critics continued to snub fiber art, often relegating it to craft or even mocking it with allusions to housewives. For example, when he reviewed Zeisler's 1969 exhibit at the Richard Feigen Gallery, critic Gregory
Battcock stated that "mops, floppiness, and house-wifey dumpiness might distract the viewer"
(Auther, 23). This relegated Zeisler's work to a category even below that of craft within the perceived hierarchy by equating it with mundane chores.
In the 1960s and 1970s, the surge in popularity of macramé (Fig. 3), a decorative knotting technique, also necessitated that fiber artists, including Zeisler, create an even more definitive distinction from crafted wall hangings. In a 1979 interview for Arts Magazine, when asked if she believed her knotting techniques set her apart from other fiber artists, Zeisler asserted, "macramé today means a decorative knot and I use my knotting technique as structure…. The knot becomes the base for the piece, like the canvas is the base for a painting" (Auther, 27). Her comparison to painting, recognized as a form of high art, carries strong implications of her regard for fiber art and voices her desire to be included in the art historical canon.
The freestanding fiber sculptures that Zeisler and other artists began producing in the
1960s marked a critical moment for fiber art. Zeisler's goal was to "create a freestanding sculpture that could support itself without a foreign armature in it" (Zeisler). Some of her freestanding sculptures do contain a steel armature. However, this does not detract from visual impact, as seen in her 1981 work Blue Vision (Fig. 4). Its grand stature leaves a strong impact on the viewer, and the steel armature that supports it is concealed by long coils of hemp. Zeisler D'Amato 5 wisely leaves the hemp a neutral color, highlighting form and texture. A band of aqua felt adds visual interest without overpowering the form.
When she moved onto strictly fiber bases, she accomplished this with tight square knotting to form a wall for support, "to which she joined interlocking wrapped flanges" (Mayer-
Thurman, 17). The process of creating a stable, freestanding support entirely out of knotted fibers is integral to fully appreciating Zeisler's sculptures. These monumental sculptures are a bold proclamation of her distinction from utilitarian craft: they are self sufficient, needing no support from a wall or anything other than the fibers from which they are made. Red Preview
(Fig. 5) 1969, like most of Zeisler's freestanding sculptures, demands recognition of this fact with its grand size and majestically cascading strands of jute. Its bright red color commands attention as well. These attributes of the work—its scale, structural ambition, and color—evoke anything other than the handiwork of a passive housewife. It is as if Zeisler has eradicated any possible tie to domesticity or utilitarian craft, though the sculpture is more reliant solely on the medium of fiber than any of her early works. This was perhaps overlooked sometimes because the knotted bases were never visible.
Though her art is not domestic in appearance, it evokes feminine forms, implicitly making a distinction between domesticity and femininity. In Red Preview, the organic forms at the center of the sculpture resemble a female figure. Long tresses fall in straight lines only to heap into a tangled mass on the ground, like Medusa's writhing hair. Sensual curves and folds in the sculpture's supports are evocative of Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings. When turned upside down, O'Keeffe's Red Canna (Fig. 6) 1923, is strikingly similar to Zeisler's Red Preview.
The petals meet at a point and flare out around the center, much like the arrangement of fiber strands in Zeisler's sculpture. Delicate folds at the center of the flower resemble the curved D'Amato 6 supports and the triangular arrangement of strands at the center of the sculpture. The bright red petals frill at the edges, like the lively read heaps of fiber that collect at the base of the sculpture.
In 1973, four years after the creation of Red Preview, Judy Chicago and Miriam Schapiro would publish their essay Female Imagery, in which they used O'Keeffe's flower paintings as an example of female imagery:
O'Keeffe began, she painted a haunting mysterious passage through the black portal of an iris, making the first recognized step into the darkness of female identity… There is now evidence that many women artists have defined a central orifice whose formal organization is often a metaphor for a woman's body. The center of the painting is the tunnel; the experience of female sexuality. (Jones, 40).
This type of female imagery, also known as core imagery, can be applied to Red Preview as well, with its mysterious central opening. The fact that Zeisler did not consider herself part of the feminist art movement, which consciously applied this concept at the time, gives credence to the theory if Zeisler's work is interpreted as an unconscious use of core imagery. It is also important to note Zeisler's sensitivity to the treatment of the feminine form, as fiber artists have been accused of reinforcing bias by rejecting the loom as a lesser, feminine instrument. Zeisler managed both to liberate her work from the loom and to reject ties with domesticity, without denigrating the idea of femininity.
In addition to demonstrating Zeisler's relevance to other movements of the 1960s and
1970s, the parallels with O'Keeffe's work show that Zeisler is as sensitive to form as any painter, though her medium may be less valorized. Much like the Abstract Expressionists who rose to prominence in the previous decade, she chose to allow the material to dictate the form rather than subordinate the material to any preconceptions. Zeisler commented, "For me, fiber still comes first. That is my limitation and that is why some people still categorize my work as craft." Critics cited this commitment to materials as proof that her work was essentially craft (Auther, 89). D'Amato 7
However, critics such as Clement Greenberg praised the Abstract Expressionists for their specific techniques and materials, even postulating that it was the essence of fine art (Greenberg,
214). These contrasting reactions to Zeisler and the Abstract Expressionists show a double standard, rooted in an art historical bias against materials and their associations with gender. As an example, Pollock's Number 1, 1950 (Lavendar Mist) (Fig. 7) 1950, demonstrates his spontaneous, intuitive approach to painting. The drips and splatters covering the canvas are non- representational, indicating a formalist approach. Zeisler, like many preceding artists who were nevertheless hailed as geniuses, was a formalist, meaning she did not prioritize content before material properties and aesthetic balance. Rather, she approached her medium with openness, and responded to its unique properties so she could create a work that brought out the material's natural characteristics.
"What I am trying to do is give raw threads a structure that only such threads can achieve," states Zeisler (Mayer-Thurman, 17). Those threads are occasionally dyed in bright primary colors, with a preference for red. However, they are generally left "raw" and manipulated to enhance their tactile and aesthetic qualities. Zeisler sees the inherent properties of her materials and manipulates these so her audience can view them in a new light. Because she clearly appreciates the unique properties of her materials, she honors their ancient origins. She once explained:
The Peruvians were the greatest weavers of all time…. No new technique has been created since the Peruvians…. So it was a natural that all of us weavers in the twentieth century went back to the Peruvians. (Zeisler)
Zeisler was among the first to reappropriate Peruvian weaving techniques (Fig. 1) for the sake of creating fine art (Billeter, 9), laying down the foundations for today's flourishing experiments with weaving. This has enabled artists such as Janine Antoni to expand even further on the D'Amato 8 artistic potential of weaving as a fine art medium. For her 1994 performance piece Slumber (Fig.
8), Antoni lived in an art gallery, weaving during the day and sleeping while connected to an
EEG machine at night. She weaved the REM patterns recorded by the EEG machine into a blanket, which she slept with every night—in her own words, "sleeping with my dreams twice"
(MASS MoCHA). Her work could be viewed as a move even beyond Zeisler's three-dimensional fiber forms, onto a metaphysical level.
The stately quality of Zeisler's sculptures eventually gave way to a more whimsical appearance, as in The King (Fig. 9), 1977. This piece consists of a flat woven panel with three flaps at the bottom, like a medieval banner. At the top of this panel is a square of short threads, creating a shaggy, fur-like texture. Here, the treatment of the thread and the textural contrast between the "fur" and the woven panel are playful. This idea is repeated in Hemp (Three
Elements) (Fig. 10), 1977, but here the woven panel reaches the floor, where it is folded over to create a makeshift base. There are three of these panels, each topped with mop of shaggy threads.
Though they are suspended by wire, their positioning creates the illusion of woven fabric standing upright. This unexpected, comical take on tapestry is indicative of Zeisler's inventiveness. Floor Slinky (Fig. 11), 1971, also exhibits playfulness, even in its title. This work is a collection of slinkies covered in red polyester threads. The coils are stretched from base to ceiling, the red threads thinning as the spiral winds upward, until the silver wire is exposed. With these later works, it is as if Zeisler has become confident enough as an established artist to allow whimsy into her work.
Indeed, Zeisler and the other fiber artists had to gain confidence as artists in order to defend their work. Some critics continually disregarded their art as decorative craft, even when they exhibited the same formal and conceptual sophistication as Zeisler's previously discussed D'Amato 9 works. Though some were beginning to revise their notions of what constituted art and to promote fiber artists with exhibitions, they were met with resistance. The Museum of Modern
Art's 1969 exhibition Wall Hangings was a breakthrough for the fiber artists, signifying recognition from one of the most prestigious art museums in the nation. Along with Zeisler, artists represented in the exhibit included Anni Albers, Sheila Hicks, Ed Rossbach, and Lenore
Tawney, among others. MoMA's press release on the exhibit stated, "During the past ten years, developments in weaving have caused us to revise our concepts of this craft and view the work within the context of twentieth-century art" (The Museum of Modern Art). However, this attitude was not universal. The show received only one review, commissioned from artist Louise
Bourgeois, who stated, "The pieces in the show rarely liberate themselves from decoration…. If they must be classified, they would fall somewhere between fine and applied art" (Auther, 33).
This rebuttal of the show's curatorial statement demonstrates the continuing resistance of many artists and critics at the time, even as fiber art began to gain access into prestigious museums.
Today, fiber art and even craft are increasingly acknowledged as forms of fine art. The women's art movement of the 1970s proved successful in "expanding the category of art to include fiber" (Auther, 166), thereby securing fiber artists' desired status as fine artists. The recognition of artists such as Faith Ringold and Anni Albers is a testament to the acceptance of textile based art within the context of fine art today. Though the fiber artists' strategy of integration into the existing hierarchy did not directly accomplish this (Auther, 166), their creative contributions proved that fiber art could have the same merit as traditional forms of fine art. Claire Zeisler was integral to this process; her innovations in technique and her conceptual ingenuity pushed fiber art in new directions. The evolution of her work—from flat wall hangings D'Amato 10 created on the loom, to three-dimensional freestanding fiber sculptures—now appears to symbolize fiber arts' rise from marginalization to prominence in the realm of fine art. D'Amato 11
Works Cited
Auther, Elissa. String, Felt, Thread: The Hierarchy of Art and Craft in American Art.
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 2010. Print.
Drutt, Helen Williams, and Michael McTwigan. "Claire Zeisler." Ruth Duckworth, Claire
Zeisler: October 12 - November 17, 1979. Philadelphia: Moore College of Art, 1979.
Print.
Greenberg, Clement. Art and Culture: Critical Essays. Boston: Beacon, 1961. Print.
MASS MoCHA. Antoni Works Day and Night in Performance at MASS MoCA. Massmoca.org.
2000. Web. 14 Mar. 2011.
Mayer-Thurman, Christa C., Erika Billeter, Sheila Hicks, Bernard Kester, Katharine Kuh, and
Paul J. Smith. Claire Zeisler: A Retrospective. Chicago: Art Institute of Chicago, 1979.
Print.
The Museum of Modern Art. Advance Information on the Wall Hangings Exhibition. Moma.org.
Web. 6 Mar. 2011.
December_0095_135.pdf?2010>. Nochlin, Linda. "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" The Feminism and Visual Culture Reader. By Amelia Jones. London: Routledge, 2003. 229-333. Print. Schapiro, Miriam, and Judy Chicago. "Female Imagery." The Feminism and Visual Culture Reader. By Amelia Jones. London: Routledge, 2003. 40. Print. D'Amato 12 Zeisler, Claire. "Oral History Interview with Claire Zeisler, 1981 June." Interview by Dennis Barrie. Archives of American Art. Web. 12076>. D'Amato 13 Figure 1. Woven Peruvian pouch. C. 400-600 AD. Cotton and wool. Figure 2. Claire Zeisler: Purple (1962). Plain weave, gauze weave, and red silks. D'Amato 14 Figure 3. Anonymous: Macramé purse. Figure 4. Claire Zeisler: Blue Vision (1981). Woven and coiled hemp, felt, steel armature. D'Amato 15 Figure 5. Claire Zeisler: Red Preview (1969). Red jute; flanges square knotted and wrapped. Figure 6. Georgia O'Keeffe: Red Canna (upside down) (1923). Oil paint on canvas. D'Amato 16 Figure 7. Jackson Pollock: Number 1, 1950 (Lavendar Mist) (1950). Oil, enamel, and aluminum on canvas. Figure 8. Janine Antoni: Slumber (1994). D'Amato 17 Figure 9. Claire Zeisler: The King (1977). Natural jute and natural raffia. Figure 10. Claire Zeisler: Hemp (Three Elements) (1977). Natural hemp. D'Amato 18 Figure 11. Claire Zeisler: Floor Slinky (1971). Red cotton and polyester thread wrapped over slinkies.