Katherine Bennett

Cyberfiber: Crafting and Coding Experience

Interview By Harriet Cherry Cheney, TSGNY

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“Sometimes I’m too tech for fiber circles. I’m too art for tech circles. I’m too avant garde for art circles.”
- Katherine Bennett

Katherine Bennett with students at an NYU workshop

Katherine Bennett with students at an NYU workshop

It’s impossible to describe Katherine in a few words but let me take a stab here: creative coder; sculptor; constructor; media artist; interactive engineer; magician, and provocateur. She was formerly a visiting assistant professor at the NYU Tandon School of Engineering. I remembered Katherine’s two presentations to TSGNY members. To say the least, I found her intriguing and technologically intimidating. Above all, I wanted to know more.

TSGNY: I’ve read that your work is “temporal, lived, social, gadget-driven, and a matter of software coding.” Does that mean you’ve abandoned formal concerns of material, scale, and composition? 

Katherine Bennett, “The Depository: Aural Outpost”

Katherine Bennett, “The Depository: Aural Outpost”

KB: Not at all. Fibers and dimensional surface design get me excited these days. I’m fascinated with what image algorithms churn up for me. I love looking at the images and figuring out the creative process. It opens up new techniques and a new visual language. I’m fascinated with machine knitting and felting. I’m also drawn to creating material from which to create other materials. So, for example, I would knit a cord with which to knit a larger structure. I just took a workshop with Angelika Worth at Felters Fling. I’m in love with her work, process, and practice. It’s wildly different from my own yet there is so much to draw on for my own practice.

TSGNY: After seeing your work at our last pre-meeting, I must ask you about the cocoons? They made me want to crawl inside… especially with the inviting addition of the lights.

 KB: I think of technology as the nervous system to my pieces. I use sensors to take input from the world and create a processor unit, i.e., a computer program that can make decisions and execute tasks. These tasks might consist of turning lights on and off, making sounds, or using video. I am more interested in what technology can provide than for its inherent visual appearance (sound, light, image v. lightbulb, screen, computer chip). I use fibers to create structures in which to embed the technology/nervous system. The appearance and the softness of the fibers are more important than the technological components.

Katherine Bennett, “The Depository: Memory Capsules”

Katherine Bennett, “The Depository: Memory Capsules”

TSGNY: Because your pieces encompass elements of craft, code, and installation, I’m curious about the area/areas of study that led you to where you are?

 KB: My first degree was in psychology. I didn’t study art as a serious endeavor until late in my undergraduate work. I took a sculpture course and a foundational 3-D course and loved it! I never left the studio. From there I studied sculpture in the UK and was hooked. I was absorbing all sorts of processes and construction methods related to making dimensional objects and spaces.

Katherine Bennett, “Sleeping Thoughts”

Katherine Bennett, “Sleeping Thoughts”

As I was creating sculptures, things started getting larger and larger. I was building cardboard structures by ripping the board up and gluing it back together. Because the structures took up so much space, documentation became critical. I needed to talk about the piece to those who were unable to see it in person. I photographed them at night with lights illuminating the structures. That got me thinking about light , as the edges of the cardboard pieces lit up. I thought about making an environment with lights floating in space. This led to Sleeping Thoughts.

After that, I thought about controlling the lights — turning them on and off — and working with sensors. This led to studying technology more as a way to design systems that can take input and control output along with working with time and data. Working with others to help achieve the technical aspects was frustrating. This led me to pursue graduate work in the Art and Technology Department at The School at The Art Institute of Chicago, where I attained deeper knowledge and more independence to achieve my own vision.

Near the end of my time in Chicago, I began to think more about textiles and fibers and intertwining them with the systems I was building. Seeing the work of colleagues at the UArts in Philadelphia — and discovering wool — opened up my world to surface manipulation and fibers that related to my early sculpture work in the UK.

I’ve, most recently, been machine knitting and felting large structures for a piece called
Luciferins.

TSGNY: In what ways do your studies in psychology influence your work?

KB: I’ve always been interested in people and how we relate to each other.  I even worked on a crisis hotline as an undergraduate. I am less interested in the “science” of our bodies and more interested in our social relations. I create systems to reflect the systems we exist within: social structures; technological networks and applications, and political systems. There is always an input, output, and flow within these systems; they constantly flex and change. Computers and code enable an amplification of thought.

Katherine Bennett, Prototype for “Luciferins” fiber structures

Katherine Bennett, Prototype for “Luciferins” fiber structures

“I create systems to reflect the systems we exist within: social structures; technological networks and applications, and political systems.”
- Katherine Bennett

TSGNY: Are you trying to convey a warning about technology in your work? Would you consider yourself an activist?

 KB: I’m drawn to how technology shapes us and fosters our interactions. Technology has some wonderful uses but some are concerning. For instance, I’m concerned about the extent of technology listening to us and recording our micro-movements and decisions. We end up sharing data, often unknowingly. This may seem insignificant, but when magnified, it’s scary to think of the mounting data being collected about each of us. I think about how these things shift our behavior as a culture.

TSGNY: Can you tell us about your latest work in progress and your current residency?

 KB: Influenced by the cultural shifts that algorithms create, Luciferins is part of a series that explores technology’s effect on our interrelations and understanding of time. Fiber structures enshroud delicate custom interactive systems. The structures become alive with moments of light and sound, reflecting on the transition to post-humanism. 

Inspired by bioluminescent fish and the plethora of invisible network traffic that surrounds us—the installation is an interactive environment of hanging fiber structures, filling a 10 x 10 foot space. Depth cameras will be used to sense viewers in the space, as well as the fibers structures themselves. Many fiber structures will be distributed throughout the space, creating a layered environment that envelops the viewer’s body. As viewers move through the environment, the fiber structures closest to them will illuminate with graphical animations. After a short period of time in one location, a graphical portal opens to show network communication packets, which are also invisibly traversing the space. The data is sonified and interlaced with shortwave radio recordings, which play in a surround sound system. The portal opens only for a few seconds before returning the room to its normal state. 

Luciferins makes our digital networks perceptible when they are often imperceptible. The infrastructure that facilitates communication largely remains hidden. Luciferins’ network becomes perceptible by movement of the body. It gives viewers a sense of the invisible activity that surrounds them, just as a swimmer would make a dwelling of sea sparkle appear by swimming through it. Luciferins seeks to not only be an experience, but to open up the conversation about control and privacy in one of our last frontiers. The piece allows for an alternative experience of abstract concepts concerning technology; it enables viewers to connect it to their everyday lives.

The name Luciferins is a generic term for the light-emitting compound found in organisms that generate bioluminescence. The BBC’s Blue Planet did a beautiful series on the ocean and the variety of life living in the depths of the ocean. The episode on bioluminescent fish is mesmerizing. Dinoflagellates are single-cell plankton: tiny marine plants, animals or bacteria that float in the water. They light up upon agitation. 

Katherine Bennett’s simulation of graphics for “Luciferins” (work in progress). She did a graphics overlay over her studio setup of the fibers.“My residency at Harvestworks, in NYC, will support the sound development; “Luciferins” will have multi-ch…

Katherine Bennett’s simulation of graphics for “Luciferins” (work in progress). She did a graphics overlay over her studio setup of the fibers.

“My residency at Harvestworks, in NYC, will support the sound development; “Luciferins” will have multi-channel sounds using field records of nature and machines. I have also been awarded a grant from Fiber Art Now to support the project. I’ll use this to buy the wool yarn to machine knit the fiber structure.”

TSGNY: Can you tell us your impressions of TSGNY, how it serves you, and what we can do to attract younger members?

 KB: I really loved the speakers at the first few meetings. I love hearing about process, techniques, and problems… especially with regard to making large pieces. I would like more dialogue with other members. It’s a bit tough getting members to talk to people they don’t know.

Maybe there can be project nights, or bring in a piece and break into small groups to do a rotated chat with everyone in the group about their pieces.

 I do think a high caliber of speakers, who are comfortable talking about their work in front of an audience — and — activities between members would inspire young members. Is there a faculty or student discount? Are the meetings advertised at schools and programs that teach about fibers and textiles? Is there a contact between TSGNY and the Textile Arts Center? Or cross activities between them?

The gallery shows are great, as is the sharing of newsletters and information about fiber-related shows. Perhaps more links and resources on the website would track more people in. Or even running workshops. I’d be happy to do a soft circuit workshop if there is an interest.

(NOTE) Katherine’s other residences include Jentel; Vermont Studio Center (full fellowship), and Weir Farm. She has been awarded grants from: The Ohio Arts Council, Individual Artist Fellowship; Richard Kelly Grand, Illuminating & Engineering Society; The Puffin Foundation LTD, and Faculty Development, The University of the Arts Artist Fellowship.

 

 

Merill Comeau

interview by Harriet Cherry Cheney, TSGNY

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“Ripping, staining, and stitching is like keening, singing, or meditating.”

                                                        — Merill Comeau

I read a great deal about Merill before I started to formulate these questions.  I found her art, her process, and her background stories to be compelling. I tried to target my questions specifically to (what I guessed) were areas of particular resonance. I also tried to make them worthy of Merill’s instincts, intentions, and intellect.

Merill has participated in more than 70 exhibitions at venues that include the Fuller Museum of Craft, the Danforth Museum of Art, and the Fitchburg Museum of Art. She has received grant support from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Massachusetts Cultural Council, and the Covenant Foundation for facilitating over 30 collaborative community art projects. She has been awarded multiple residencies, most recently at Turkey Land Cove and the Weir Farm National Historic Site in Connecticut.

Aside from lecturing on fiber arts, Merill stains, dyes, composts, embroiders, hand stitches, draws, rips, stencils, writes, repurposes, and reorders to produce installations, garments, triptychs, wall cloths, and other forms of fiber art.

Installation: Family of Origin, Cockcrowing: composted toile, indigo dyed fabrics, painted fabrics, deconstructed clothing, hand stitching. 77"h x 93”w. Best Laid Plans: Stitch resist dyed fabric, acrylic paint, hand stitching 73”h x 81”w. Foundatio…

Installation: Family of Origin, Cockcrowing: composted toile, indigo dyed fabrics, painted fabrics, deconstructed clothing, hand stitching. 77"h x 93”w. Best Laid Plans: Stitch resist dyed fabric, acrylic paint, hand stitching 73”h x 81”w. Foundational Garments Series: shirts of the artist's deceased mother, sticks, hair, grommets, laces, weights, composted fabric, acrylic, wood hangers, garment rack, hand stitching. 67"h x 38"w x 36”d." Family of Origin is a therapeutic term identifying caretakers and siblings that a person grows up with, or the first social group a person belongs to, often a person’s biological or adoptive family.

“I investigate the tension between idealized images of “normal’’ families and my own, ponder observed experiences of family life, and contemplate the challenges of our large human family. I deconstruct and reconstruct textiles and alter clothing, disrupting, reordering, and rebuilding real or imagined narratives exploring historical and contemporary women’s roles such as the toil of the maker, the privilege of the wearer, the job of mothering, how to be a “good” daughter, and societal expectations for sexual and emotional expression.”

TSGNY: It seems that the theme running through your work is deconstructing, reordering, and rebuilding. Can you tell us how your choice of materials helps you achieve this?

MC: I’m driven to express what I cannot put into words.  Ripping, staining, and stitching is like keening, singing, or meditating. Fabric absorbs color, frays, and folds. Simple sewing techniques build new forms. My materials stand in for, and portray, life experiences. My engagement in slow process is almost — or maybe more — important than the final product.

TSGNY:  As you’ve explored your family of origin, what have you deconstructed, reordered, and rebuilt? Have you uncovered stories you’d forgotten or neglected? Has you work helped you to remember in a different way?

MC: I spent three years working on Family of Origin, with its shirts belonging to my deceased mother, wall tapestry of rags, and floor cloth painted with plans of my childhood bedrooms. At the same time, I created the installation, Black and Blue[1], inspired by my essay about a favorite childhood home. Those three years were full of memories, not so much uncovered, but memories that needed to be understood and expressed. This is similar to artists creating a series; often, when it’s done, they discover themes not fully recognized during the making. I discovered themes in my family life that I hadn’t fully recognized. There had been numerous messages about how to be a good girl, how to be wifely, and how to be a proper woman. I also realized that, though some of those messages were painful to identify, their absurdity appealed to my black sense of humor.

TSGNY: Are you working from the child, adolescent, or adult place? Or, does it shift?

MC: I’m an adult. Although I can remember how I felt as a child, I don’t have the eyes of a child. And the same is true for my time as an adolescent. I didn’t have the happiest childhood or teen years and I really like being a grownup! Now I have the freedom to explore what I value and find most interesting.

TSGNY: I read a quote from you about the truth being in the stories. Can you explain this?

MC: In general, I am interested in what we, as a culture, remember — and — what legacies we keep alive. Who decides what stories are important, worth recording, and worth repeating? What impact does our community of origin have on what we remember and value? What information does our art contain, both art from the past and from contemporary works?

About five years ago, I told some colleagues that I was going to be more honest and direct in my work. I had been using nature as a metaphor for our life cycle: birth, bloom, desiccation, return to earth, and rebirth. I still love the imagery of nature, but, now, I’m telling stories more directly. There are concerns in truth telling. First of all, everyone remembers things differently. Who is to say my memories are correct? My memories are really only mine. Memory is fluid. In the recounting, both emphasis   and details can shift, change, and permanently alter one’s recollection. And, if I share bad memories, I can hurt others by reminding them of  painful things. I take this responsibility seriously; therefore I issue trigger warnings, encourage others to take care of themselves, and let people know that I am fine. I may explore difficult subjects in my art… but I am fine. Generally, I find my work spurs wonderful conversations and connections.

“Old cloth is loaded with meaning and stories of lives lived. In creating a new textile, I add my story to the mix.”

TSGNY: I admire you for creating work in healing groups and social justice communities. Do you consider yourself to be an activist? What does the word mean to you?

MC: I work as an artist-in-residence teaching youth serving sentences in the Massachusetts court system and residing in secure treatment facilities. I am privileged to serve in this way and it has changed me. One thing I have learned, which Bryan Stevenson writes about so eloquently in his book, Just Mercy, is that we are all wounded in some way. The act of showing mercy to someone else is the act of showing mercy to yourself. He says it much better: please read the book!

TSGNY: Does your work provide solace and healing? Is self-healing a motivation? Or, are you a closet rabble rouser?

MC: I didn’t set out to “heal thyself.” But making art definitely does heal me. I’m so disturbed about our current civil discourse, I’ve made two large triptychs titled Red, White, and Blue. Stitching them — sometimes through tears as I watch the news — has helped me keep my focus on ways we are connected rather than on the ways we get torn apart.

When I talk about my work, I always share other artists’ work that I am looking at and find interesting. I use Visual Thinking Strategies[2] to collect participants’ observations. This process has never failed to affirm my faith in people’s ability to read art, connect it to their experience, and find solace in our mutual concerns.

Red, White, Blue, 116w x 102w x 36d, painted, thermo-faxed, and block printed deconstructed repurposed clothing and linens.

Red, White, Blue, 116w x 102w x 36d, painted, thermo-faxed, and block printed deconstructed repurposed clothing and linens.

TSGNY: Is sewing a metaphor for mending and healing?

MC: Absolutely! Sewing is a hopeful process. Put one thing next to another, sew them together and, presto, you have a new thing! I tell my students: fabric is forgiving and that’s why we are using it. You can make a mistake and you can fix it. It’s a symbolic act for a student who is incarcerated. They are not the sum of the worst things they have done. They can forgive themselves, and they can repair their lives.

TSGNY: Are you a perfectionist or a recovering perfectionist?

MC: This question causes me to laugh out loud. I am absolutely not a perfectionist. First of all, I’m a terribly flawed person; I do not expect myself to make or do anything perfect. It’s true that I’m never happy with my work but I find that motivating. I always want to try again and make another piece. If anything, I think I may be the opposite of a perfectionist; I glory in my messy self.

“I leave trails of thread to represent the messiness of life.”

TSGNY: You seem to have garnered quite a bit of recognition. What was the turning point in achieving this?

MC: Wow, have I? That is really nice to hear. I don’t feel any different than I did in years past. I mourn my losses and celebrate the good times. I keep working, and, hopefully, growing… with more growth to come. Are we ever done growing? I hope not.

I Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments, painted and printed repurposed fabrics, composted toile, commercial fabrics, sequins, hand and machine stitching.

I Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments, painted and printed repurposed fabrics, composted toile, commercial fabrics, sequins, hand and machine stitching.

TSGNY: Of what accomplishments are you most proud?

MC: As an artist, my answer to this question, at any given time, would probably be the last thing I made. But, in life, I’m most proud of breaking some family patterns and having a nuclear family full of love. It’s not a cliche to say that I have gotten more out of my experiences working with incarcerated youth than they have gotten from me. But, in my heart, I know they’ve gotten something good; of that, I am proud.

Detail, Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments painted and printed.

Detail, Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments painted and printed.

TSGNY: And finally, what would you like your fellow TSGNY members to know about you?

MC: First, I find people at the meetings to be so kind and friendly; I greatly appreciate it.  Second, TSGNY members, I want to hear from you. I’m collecting stories about how we learn to be who we are, in terms of gender, behavior, class, race, culture, and relationships. Send me a story about a message you received about what you should or shouldn’t do, think, or be. Your story may be represented in an artwork. You may send this anonymously or sign your name. You can reach me at 14thebeesknees@gmail.com or mail a postcard, which may be displayed with the artwork, to Merill Comeau,
14 Pleasant Street, Concord, MA, 01742. Thanks!

Detail, Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments painted and printed.

Detail, Cry at the Sad Parts and I Cry at the Joyous Parts/ Human Impact: Stories of the Opioid Epidemic, 214h x 48w x 30d, garments painted and printed.

[1] “The Farm” http://www.catherinearmsden.com/housestories/#merill_comeau

[2] Visual Thinking Strategies, VTS, is a facilitation method that was researched, developed and strengthened over the past thirty years. I use it when looking at art in groups. VTS has given me specific skills that encourage participants’ deep observations, responses, and listening.