Until just the past few decades, textiles were generally created with only practical applications in mind. Although fiber and cloth in its myriad forms had been produced for millennia around the globe, fabrics were woven for either domestic or industrial use, and crafts such as knitting, weaving, basket- and net-making, and more were considered purely functional. Think clothing or decor. Even ornate medieval tapestries were conceived as utilitarian objects, used in stone buildings like church
Until just the past few decades, textiles were generally created with only practical applications in mind. Although fiber and cloth in its myriad forms had been produced for millennia around the globe, fabrics were woven for either domestic or industrial use, and crafts such as knitting, weaving, basket- and net-making, and more were considered purely functional. Think clothing or decor. Even ornate medieval tapestries were conceived as utilitarian objects, used in stone buildings like churches and large homes to soften sounds and insulate against the cold.
Within the canon of Western art history, in particular, the hierarchy of fine art has long been quite definite: painting and sculpture were chief among mediums. Anything else fell under categories of preparatory processes, craft, or ornament. But in the mid-20th century, that delineation began to shift. Anni Albers, who taught at the Bauhaus and later Black Mountain College, was one of the first artists to approach weaving as both a craft and an art. She laid the foundations for later artists like Sheila Hicks, Magdalena Abakanowicz, Cecelia Vicuña, Faith Ringgold, and many more. Today, artists like Bisa Butler, Do Ho Suh, Nick Cave, and countless others continue to challenge boundaries and redefine the role of textiles in art.
Chiachio & Giannone. “Conversación sobre arte” (2022), hand-embroidered quilt with cotton threads on toile de Jouy, 164 x 200 centimeters. Photo by Nacho Iasparra. Courtesy of Bendana | Pinel Art Contemporain, Paris
A new exhibition at Saatchi Gallery takes a fresh look at how fiber has become a celebrated facet of contemporary art. Textile Art Redefined is curated by Helen Adams, founder of the platform Textile Curator. Vibrant colors and patterns infuse the show with a sense of joy and optimism, while the selection highlights the broad range of approaches to different materials, such as Ian Berry’s large-scale installation titled “Secret Garden,” which mimics Delft tiles and yet is made entirely of recycled denim. And Kenny Nguyen’s large-scale wall piece, made of thousands of colorful strips of silk, appears to undulate and swirl.
For some of these artists, like Argentinian duo Chiachio & Giannone and knit designer Kaffe Fassett—who continues to work alongside his long-term partner, designer Brandon Mably—the union of art and craft lends itself to a entire lifestyle built around fiber as a form of expression, brimming with color and patterns. Colossal readers may also recognize work by Anne von Freyburg, Signe Emdal,Deniz Kurdak, and Benjamin Shine, in addition to Caroline Burgess, Sara Impey, Simone Pheulpin, Jakkai Siributr, Magda Sayeg, and Jenni Dutton. “In an increasingly digital world, creating by hand has taken on a new appreciation,” says a statement.
Textile Art Redefined continues through May 10 in London. Adams is also the author of the new book Textile Fine Art, published by Laurence King.
Anne von Freyburg, “In Flight Mode (After Fragonard, The Swing)” (2026), textile wall installation painting: acrylic ink, synthetic fabrics, PVC fabric, tapestry-fabric, sequin fabrics, hand-embroidery, polyester wadding and hand-dyed tassel fringes on canvas, 350 x 260 centimeters. Courtesy of K Contemporary Denver + Santa Fe. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneInstallation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneIan Berry, “The Secret Garden” (2026), denim on denim, dimensions variable. Photo by Debbie BraggIan Berry, “The Secret Garden” (detail). Photo by Debbie BraggKenny Nguyen, “Echo Series No. 6” (2025), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, canvas, mounted on wall, 289.56 x 332.74 x 12.70 centimetersKaffe Fassett, “Geometric Sampler” (2019), cotton and wool, 150 x 188 centimeters. Photo by Brandon MablyInstallation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneTop to bottom: Magda Sayeg, “The Machine Gun” (2017), replica of Bushmaster XM15-E2S: acrylic mix triple worsted yarn, vintage children’s sweaters, 200 x 68 centimeters. Magda Sayeg, “Yoga Balls” (2025), acrylic yarn and inflated PVC ball, approx. 55 x 75 centimeters. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneSigne Emdal, “Dreams of Gaia” (2024), Italian mohair, Shetland wool, Swedish cotton warp, gold-plated artist’s signature, 195 x 60 x 18 centimeters. Created with funding support from the Danish Beckett Foundation. Installation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale Viglione
From the nearly abstracted patterns featuring dozens of Black faces in the meticulous work of Sharon Kerry-Harlan to portraits inspired by real events like Donna Chambers’ celebration of President Barack Obama’s inauguration, Masters of the Stitch: Threaded Stories at Claire Oliver Gallery spotlights remarkable narratives in fabric.
The exhibition draws from the collection of Carolyn Mazloomi, founder of the Women of Color Quilters Network, whose strategy over the better part of the last f
From the nearly abstracted patterns featuring dozens of Black faces in the meticulous work of Sharon Kerry-Harlan to portraits inspired by real events like Donna Chambers’ celebration of President Barack Obama’s inauguration, Masters of the Stitch: Threaded Stories at Claire Oliver Gallery spotlights remarkable narratives in fabric.
The exhibition draws from the collection of Carolyn Mazloomi, founder of the Women of Color Quilters Network, whose strategy over the better part of the last four decades has been to highlight the craft as an artistic expression beyond what the gallery describes as “folk curiosity.” Works simultaneously function “as fine art, historical archive, and cultural testimony, asserting once and for all that Black quiltmaking deserves a central place in the American art canon,” says a statement.
Sharon Kerry-Harlan, “Power in Numbers” (2016), whole cloth cotton, cotton batting; screenprinted, machine pieced and quilted, 49.5 x 49.5 inches
The 12 artists included in the show reference a range of perspectives and stories, from childhood memories to the COVID-19 pandemic to civil rights actions like the Freedom Train. “Black American quilts occupy a singular position in the history of American art: they are simultaneously an intimate domestic practice and a form of public witness,” the gallery says. “For generations, these textiles carried stories that could not always be spoken aloud of family, faith, resistance, grief, and joy.”
Masters of the Stitch: Threaded Stories continues through August 8 in Harlem. You might also enjoy Stephen Towns’ quilted paintings celebrating midcentury leisure in the South and Bisa Butler’s vibrant stitched portraits.
Donna Chambers, “POTUS #44,” commercial cotton, African cotton, cotton batting; embroidery, piecing, machine appliquéd and quilted, 35 x 33 inchesMarion Coleman, “Living in the Shadows” (2016), commercial cotton, cotton batting; machine appliquéd and quilted, 50 x 50 inchesSharon Kerry-Harlan, “On the Face Of It” (2010), cotton fabric, fabric paint, mixed media; appliquéd and quilted, 71 x 102 inchesKathy Nida, “Covid’s Daughters” (2020), cotton fabric, cotton batting; machine appliquéd and quilted, 59 x 51 inchesWendell Brown, “The Family” (2024), commercial cotton, cotton batt, yarn, found objects, cotton canvas, acrylic paint, hand-painted and hand-stitched, 75 x 75 inchesViola Leak, “About Jazz” (ca. 2006), cotton fabric, cotton batt, netting, metallic fibers, beads, suede fabric, found objects, acrylic paint, hand-painted, hand-stitched, and machine quilted, 80 x 63 inchesMichael Cummings, “Haitian Mermaid #2” (1996), sequins, shells, knit fiber, lamé, found objects, cotton batting; machine appliquéd and quilted, 67 x 51 inchesPeggie Hartwell, “A Time to Wait” (2015), commercial cotton, batiks, cotton batting, cotton and nylon thread, fabric paint; hand-painted and machine appliquéd and quilted, 57 x 51 inches
Multi-colored lengths of fabric billow in the breeze in the work of Thomas Jackson, challenging the relationship between nature, human intervention, and consumerism. “Rooted in the tension between nature and artificiality, the installations pose questions about how we interact with the environment and how we might find equilibrium with it,” the artist writes in a statement.
“All of my photographs strain credulity by design,” Jackson says. “At first blush, they can appear to be digital fabr
Multi-colored lengths of fabric billow in the breeze in the work of Thomas Jackson, challenging the relationship between nature, human intervention, and consumerism. “Rooted in the tension between nature and artificiality, the installations pose questions about how we interact with the environment and how we might find equilibrium with it,” the artist writes in a statement.
“All of my photographs strain credulity by design,” Jackson says. “At first blush, they can appear to be digital fabrications, but in truth, they are entirely in-camera, printed with minimal post-production.” The undulating swathes of fabric in his ethereal photographs initially appear to float and drape on their own, almost superimposed onto various landscapes, but upon closer inspection, the images reveal taut strings holding the carefully layered sheets.
Currently, Jackson is focusing on a forthcoming book project and taking advantage of the time between major exhibitions to make new work. See more on Instagram.
Silk has been crafted in Vietnam for centuries, where it’s treasured as a lightweight, luxurious fabric used in traditional garments and art. For Kenny Nguyen, who was born in Ben Tre Province and is currently based in Charlotte, North Carolina, the material provides the foundation for vibrant, large-scale wall works that combine elements of weaving and tapestries, garment production, painting, and sculpture.
Using thousands of hand-cut strips of silk, Nguyen draws on his background in fas
Silk has been crafted in Vietnam for centuries, where it’s treasured as a lightweight, luxurious fabric used in traditional garments and art. For Kenny Nguyen, who was born in Ben Tre Province and is currently based in Charlotte, North Carolina, the material provides the foundation for vibrant, large-scale wall works that combine elements of weaving and tapestries, garment production, painting, and sculpture.
Using thousands of hand-cut strips of silk, Nguyen draws on his background in fashion design, employing techniques such as pinning, weaving, sewing, and layering to create what he describes as “deconstructed paintings.” Each work is created around a kind of imaginary body, its creases and undulating forms evoking movement and versatility.
“Undercurrent Series No. 10” (2026), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, and canvas, mounted on wall, 64 x 158 x 8 inches
Even though the works appear fixed, they are actually very malleable. Every time a piece is installed, its undulations are determined by where the pins are placed, and it assumes something of a new version. This complements Nguyen’s approach to silk as a kind of “second skin,” he says, which adapts to its environment, represents memories and heritage, and serves as a metaphor for his personal identity.
Nguyen’s work is currently on view in Textile Art Redefinedat Saatchi Gallery in London and Earth to Sky at Sundaram Tagore Gallery in Singapore. His work will also be included in the exhibition Iris van Herpen: Sculpting the Senses at the Brooklyn Museum, which opens on May 16, and a forthcoming group exhibition at Sundaram Tagore’s London location. See more on the artist’s Instagram.
Detail of “Undercurrent Series No. 10”“Eruption Series No. 86” (2025), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, and canvas, mounted on wall, 69 x 53 x 8 inchesDetail of “Eruption Series No. 86”“Encounter Series No. 62” (2025), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, and canvas, mounted on wall, 62 x 115 x 4 inchesDetail of “Encounter Series No. 62”“Eruption Series No. 45” (2024), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, and canvas, mounted on wall, 83 x 113 inches (flat dimensions)“Undercurrent Series No. 5” (2026), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, and canvas, mounted on wall, 67 x 112 x 7 inchesDetail of “Undercurrent Series No. 5”Alternate view of “Eruption Series No. 78”Alternate view of “Undercurrent Series No. 10”
Glossy, synthetic, and very compressed, Ant Hamlyn’s botanicals are unlike anything you’d find in nature. He taps into the aesthetic of Y2K and the early 2000s, when early computer graphics, sci-fi, and teen punk melded into a kind of optimistic, tech-forward visual experience. Think early flip phones, polyurethane miniskirts, and Now That’s What I Call Music on CD.
Better Go South, which presents the artist’s current solo exhibition Soft // Chrome, describes the artist’s approach as “cele
Glossy, synthetic, and very compressed, Ant Hamlyn’s botanicals are unlike anything you’d find in nature. He taps into the aesthetic of Y2K and the early 2000s, when early computer graphics, sci-fi, and teen punk melded into a kind of optimistic, tech-forward visual experience. Think early flip phones, polyurethane miniskirts, and Now That’s What I Call Music on CD.
Better Go South, which presents the artist’s current solo exhibition Soft // Chrome, describes the artist’s approach as “celebrating our human capacity to find beauty and connection even within the most manufactured environments.”
Hamlyn’s playful, cartoonish works center around stuffed and squished polyurethane flowers, invoking a kind of “liquid metal” redux that nods to our past optimism about technology while acknowledging the anxieties that have evolved and continue to grow in the post-digital age.
See the works by appointment in Stuttgart, and check out more on the artist’s Instagram.
In works that merge sculpture, fashion, and kite-making, Hai-Wen Lin traverses the thresholds that connect one’s physical self, the mind, and the elements. The artist describes their practice as “an act of reorienting: looking back, looking forward, looking in, looking up.”
Using a wide range of materials, Lin creates vibrant, abstract compositions in textile often manipulated with cyanotype patterns or dyed with natural hues such as indigo and turmeric. They make kites “that speak the lan
In works that merge sculpture, fashion, and kite-making, Hai-Wen Lin traverses the thresholds that connect one’s physical self, the mind, and the elements. The artist describes their practice as “an act of reorienting: looking back, looking forward, looking in, looking up.”
Using a wide range of materials, Lin creates vibrant, abstract compositions in textile often manipulated with cyanotype patterns or dyed with natural hues such as indigo and turmeric. They make kites “that speak the language of clothing,” blurring definitions of craft, art, garments, and acts of play.
“October 8th 2:56-3:56pm Wicker Park; a picnic together // we probably shouldn’t feed the sparrows” (2022), tannic acid-toned cyanotype on muslin, acrylic, soda ash, bamboo, thread, gold chain, wind, green grass, time to kill, hungry sparrows, turbos flamas, a loved one to keep company, conversations that needn’t arrive anywhere, 63 x 63 x 5 inches
Lin has long been interested in chance operations, documentation of daily life, and ways of releasing control. They artist first learned to sew as a way to explore and navigate questions of gender. During graduate school, they landed on the concept of a kite as a way of loosening up in terms of research and getting out into the open—literally embracing the wind. They were thus inspired by a stirring question: “What does it mean to care for, drape, dress, and accommodate change and instability?”
Lin’s pieces employ an array of materials and processes, such as discarded paintings, a variety of fabrics, jewelry findings, and more. “Two Can Share Heaven,” for example, incorporates dyed cotton, faux fur, polyester, velvet, and silk—the latter of which harkens to historical fashion.
The artist also occasionally includes experiential, ephemeral additions in the works’ materials lists, such as “a burning sensation, a desire to be lost” in a piece titled “Sunday, April 2nd 5:13–7:31pm,” among others, and titles sometimes reflect the dates and times when the kites were worn as garments.
“Sunday, April 2nd 5:13–7:31pm” (2023), cyanotype on silk and cotton, developed in lakewater, steeped in black tea, feathers, beads, thread, bells, wood, gold, enamel, crystals, copper, brass, ceramic, dirt, flowers, sunlight, sweat, sand, rust, dust, a shivering body, a burning sensation, a desire to be lost, 90. 96 x 12 inches
Lin is fascinated by the tradition of Japanese paper sode dako, or “kimono kites,” which resemble the silhouette of the timeless robes. “It’s very simple, but the idea of the body in flight, is of course a powerful image,” Lin says, adding:
When I was young, my dad would have us write wishes on pieces of paper and send them up the kite lines when we flew them. If they disappeared when you reeled the kite back in, it meant the wish had been granted. So the kites have always been about a sense of wish-making. I think clothing offers a similar sense of aspiration for a lot of people.
Lin’s kites can just as easily be described as textile sculptures or apparel. They drape beautifully in exhibition spaces like abstract tapestries, severed from their free-flying, outdoor associations. They wrap around the human form like elegant, ethereal, shapeshifting mantles.
“Two Can Share Heaven” (2024), turmeric and indigo-dyed cotton, donated fabrics, discarded paintings, faux fur, silk, velvet, polyester, jewelry chain, split rings, thread, cord, wood, 110 x 80 inches. Models: the artist and Margaret Wright
“What continues to interest me in this dialogue is the ways in which clothing and weather have always been in conversation,” Lin says, continuing:
Clothing is an interface that delineates our bodies from the environment, so I’m interested in reversing and reorienting that relationship. What would it mean to clothe the weather instead? I often refer to my works as clothing for the wind. I think of dress and clothing as a form of care. I love that we forecast weather and that we forecast fashion. It’s all a kind of attempt at discerning some kind of future. How do we care for a future sky with the clothes we make and wear now?
Loosely modeled after Chinese dragon robes, which were popularized among emperors and dynastic officials during the Tang Dynasty, “Two Can Share Heaven” explores notions of togetherness and cooperation. Unlike traditional garments, the artist designed the piece to be worn by two people as “a simple but direct challenge to the notion of a single ruler blessed by gods,” they share. “Here, power must be shared, redistributed, and negotiated between two.”
The Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) has awarded Lin the 2025 Burke Prize, a prestigious grant given to an artist under the age of 45 working in the U.S. whose practice revolves around contemporary craft. If you’re in New York, see Lin’s work at MAD from February 28 to October 11. The artist is also currently working toward a solo exhibition at the Knoxville Museum of Art. Follow updates on Instagram.
“October 3rd 6:58-7:56am Oak Street Beach, I woke you up in the morning // I’m sorry” (2022), tannic acid-toned cyanotype on muslin, acrylic, bamboo, thread, gold chain, brass, ceramic, wind, time, sand, the first light of the day, a lapping lake, the sound of traffic, a breath expanding the solar plexus, and another, and another, 63 x 58 x 5 inchesThe artist wearing “October 3rd 6:58-7:56am Oak Street Beach, I woke you up in the morning // I’m sorry” and “October 8th 2:56-3:56pm Wicker Park; a picnic together // we probably shouldn’t feed the sparrows”“Cloud Collar” (2023), dyed silk, feathers, gold, beads, wood, string, hair extensions, one wish, 99 x 140 x 18 inches. Photo by Prairie“Cloud Collar” (2023), dyed silk, feathers, gold, beads, wood, string, hair extensions, one wish, 99 x 140 x 18 inches. Modeled by taisha paggettDetail of “Cloud Collar” (2023). Photo by Prairie“Sunday, April 2nd 5:13–7:31pm” (2023), cyanotype on silk and cotton, developed in lakewater, steeped in black tea, feathers, beads, thread, bells, wood, gold, enamel, crystals, copper, brass, ceramic, dirt, flowers, sunlight, sweat, sand, rust, dust, a shivering body, a burning sensation, a desire to be lost, 90 x 96 x 12 inches“wishwinder” (2022), enamel on copper, copper leaf, wood, and chain, 4 x 6.5 x .5 inches