An interview with a textile sculptor on installation art

Textile sculpture sits between the intimate scale of handwork and the physical presence of architecture. A stitched form can occupy a room, alter how people move through it, and carry traces of labour that ordinary furnishings often conceal. For this interview, we explore how a textile artist turns fabric, thread and found materials into immersive installation art.

The conversation also considers what it means to work as a contemporary maker in Australia, where artists often balance studio practice with workshops, commissions, markets and community programming. From Melbourne warehouse spaces to Sydney galleries and regional arts festivals, textile installation is finding new audiences beyond traditional craft settings.

The sculptor describes a process guided by touch, repetition and curiosity rather than a fixed formula. Her work grows through testing: draping cloth, building soft structures, unpicking seams and allowing a material’s behaviour to redirect the original idea.

That approach aligns with the wider creative culture supported by Smart and Becker Creative, where craftsmanship, experimentation and practical business knowledge meet. The studio’s workshops, exhibitions and maker-focused services offer a useful context for artists developing a visual language and a sustainable professional practice.

From domestic craft to spatial practice

What first drew you to textile sculpture?

“I was interested in the emotional history of fabric. Textiles are close to the body, connected to clothing, bedding, curtains and family rituals. When I began enlarging small stitched studies, they became almost architectural. A piece could suggest a shelter, a skin or a landscape rather than simply being viewed as an object.”

Her work reflects the changing position of textile art. Techniques once associated with domestic craft are now used in large-scale contemporary installations, public artworks and gallery environments. In her textile sculpture practice, hand stitching becomes a way to build volume, rhythm and atmosphere.

Does that history affect how you present the work?

“Absolutely. I want the labour to remain visible. Uneven stitches, loose edges and changes in density show that the work was made by a person over time. I am not trying to disguise the hand. The imperfections create an invitation to look closely.”

Letting materials lead

A textile installation often begins with a material question rather than a complete image. The artist may ask how felt holds a curve, how muslin catches light, or how recycled fabric behaves when stretched across a frame. These practical tests generate visual decisions that drawing alone cannot predict.

How do you choose materials for a new installation?

“I collect textiles for their surface and memory. Some have a formal quality, such as industrial mesh or heavy canvas. Others carry personal associations, such as worn cotton or embroidered fragments. I usually combine a stable material with something unpredictable, because the tension between them creates movement.”

In Australia, material sourcing can be shaped by distance and availability. A maker in regional New South Wales may rely on local op shops, salvage yards and fabric suppliers in nearby cities, while a Melbourne artist might find specialist textiles through independent traders and costume departments. Reuse is practical as well as ecological, particularly when freight costs and small production runs affect the local market.

Designing movement through space

Installation art depends on more than the object itself. Scale, lighting, sound, entrances and sightlines determine how an audience encounters the work. A hanging textile may divide a room, create a narrow passage or soften an otherwise industrial venue.

How do you plan for the viewer’s movement?

“I think of the installation as a score. There are moments of compression and release. I might create a low threshold so people become aware of their bodies, then open the space into something expansive. I want the audience to feel that their movement completes the work.”

This sensitivity is especially relevant in Australian exhibition spaces, from converted warehouses in Brisbane to community galleries in Adelaide and artist-run venues in Sydney. A successful installation must respond to local conditions, including strong natural light, fluctuating humidity and the practical needs of public access. The venue becomes a collaborator rather than a neutral container.

The discipline behind an intuitive process

Textile sculpture can look spontaneous, yet large-scale work requires careful project management. Measurements, hanging systems, fire considerations, transport, installation time and condition reporting all influence the final result. Creative freedom grows when these details are addressed early.

How do you balance intuition with planning?

“I separate the project into stages. First comes open experimentation, where I allow the material to surprise me. Then I define the structural requirements and create a production schedule. The final stage is responsive again, because the work always changes when it enters the actual space.”

For emerging makers, this balance is central to building a viable practice. Australian artists may move between direct commissions, council-funded programs, gallery exhibitions, teaching and weekend makers’ markets. Pricing needs to account for labour, materials, studio rent, packaging, insurance and GST where applicable, rather than treating handmade work as an inexpensive alternative to mass production.

Building a sustainable creative practice

What advice would you give to a textile artist preparing an installation?

“Document every stage. Photograph tests, record material costs and write down what changes when the work is installed. That archive becomes useful for grant applications, exhibition proposals and future conversations with curators. Also, learn to explain the work in clear language. A strong concept deserves practical communication.”

A supportive creative community can make that process less isolated. Through workshops, exhibitions, product development and business coaching, Smart and Becker Creative connects making with the professional skills needed to reach audiences. For a sculptor, that may mean refining an artist statement, developing a smaller product range alongside major installations, or preparing a proposal for a gallery or hospitality space.

Practical ways to strengthen a textile installation practice

• Keep a material library with notes on weight, stretch, colourfastness and provenance.
• Photograph works from the viewer’s eye level as well as from wider architectural angles.
• Build installation time, transport and technical equipment into every quotation.
• Test a small section under the venue’s actual lighting before committing to the full design.
• Maintain relationships with local curators, fabric suppliers, framers, makers and community arts organisations.

The sculptor’s final observation is simple: “Give the work enough time to become itself. Textile processes are repetitive, but repetition is where unexpected form appears. You learn when to control the material and when to listen to it.”

For artists developing an installation, that listening can begin with a workshop, a studio consultation or a carefully planned prototype. Explore the creative programs and professional support available through Smart and Becker Creative, and take the next practical step towards bringing a tactile, room-sized idea into the world.