Six questions for
Sophie Rowley

How do you describe your own art practice?

I work with textiles and materials in experimental ways, creating three-dimensional sculptural works as well as mire two-dimensional works or “paintings” made from yarn. Using self-developed techniques, I produce pieces that are mostly complex and detailed, yet are minimal in their aesthetic, and that explore the relationship between light and shadow. In my textile paintings, I focus on the process of unweaving. Through techniques of deconstruction, I dismantle the weave in a careful and calculated way, challenging the inherent structure and tangible qualities of the canvas. People often assume I’m a weaver, but I am actually an “unweaver”. My overall approach is evolutionary, in the sense that bodies of work often emerge from an unexpected mistake or experimental shift in an earlier work series.

Which question or theme is central in your work?

My work evolves a lot around deconstruction. I like to not merely view deconstruction as a visual or formal technique that I employ – I like to think of it also in a broader metaphysical sense. My repetitive acts of undoing not only bring me into a meditative state but also reveal repetition and unravelling as powerful catalysts for transformation. I therefore like to explore what lies between the material and the discursive: How do internal perceptions manifest in tangible form? What new insights emerge through the process of undoing?

I believe it is essential to question known structures and challenge received ideas, not only on a material level but also in the intangible realms, by unsettling familiar ways of seeing and doing.

What was your first experience with art?

My first ever experience with art was during an exhibition in Auckland, where I grew up, featuring works by William Adolphe Bouguereau. One painting, of a girl sitting at a well, was stuck in my mind, I even kept a postcard of it for years. I don’t know what it was, but it had an impression on me. Since my family wasn’t particularly interested in art, this was likely the only exhibition I visited growing up. However, I had always been interested in painting, drawing, sewing and that was something my parents heavily encouraged.

When I majored in art in highschool, my art teacher had a significant impact on me. I remember being introduced to Christo and Jeanne-Claude in her class—artists who still inspire me and remain among my favorites to this day.

What is your greatest source of inspiration?

My greatest source of inspiration often comes from the materials and fabrics themselves. I enjoy working within the limitations of whatever random materials I have gathered, whether found on trips or at local markets. I am especially drawn to familiar, everyday fabrics. By unraveling these materials, often to me interesting patterns or shapes come into appearance, that then help me decide on what I will create from them. When I started my practice I was living in Mumbai, so my early works are mainly made from the local Indian Khadi fabric, a handwoven and handspun material. I was using more colour then too. Over the past two years, I have developed a large body of work centered around the artist canvas, which I recently exhibited in my solo show at Looiersgracht60 in Amsterdam. For this body of work, I wanted to make “paintings” without paint, transforming the canvas itself into the artwork rather than a surface for other materials. I started with the blank canvas and took away from it instead of adding to it. Recently, I have felt more inspired to work with materials or fabrics that carry personal, cultural, or political significance. So this is the direction I will be heading towards next.

What do you need in order to create your work?

As my processes are very time-consuming, the most important attribute I need for my work is patience. It can take me several months to create one of my larger works and as the process is quite repetitive I need a lot of endurance.

What work or artist has most recently surprised you?

I saw some paintings of Daniel Weissbach at an art fair in Belgium recently and was blown away. His work is heavily inspired by the aesthetics of Berlin’s subway stations, especially their distinctive tiled walls. Using acrylic on canvas he captures these walls including the layers of grime, scribbles, spray paint, old stickers, and even chewing gum. His paintings, though raw and authentic, have a subtle and fragile quality that provide a counterpoint to the underground environment. Living in Berlin and encountering these scenes daily, I find it fascinating how someone could depict these walls and environments in such a delicate, poetic way.