Fibres of Culture

From emperors to catwalks textiles have been the tools to represent grandeur and communicate culture. Textiles reflect the colours the handcraft and the customs of the culture it comes from.

The layers or growth rings in the chair are shaped by shifts or changes in cultural contexts, the stories that together shape my world. I set out to find textiles that would represent each of these cultures. By then layering them one on top of the other I would be able to create the effect of growth rings giving you as a user a view of my story, a way to interact with my hidden storyworld. The plywood forms the first layers representing in a way my Finnish roots.

The plywood has been veneered with Olive spicing up the traditionally finish birch ply to show the combination of my Finnish Italian parents. The first textile layer is in earth shade reflecting in a way my almost nomadic life moving from one culture to another. The Gustavian striped textile is what is typically used in traditional Finnish estates, the microfiber is a reflection of the velvety curtains and fitted carpets of the UK, the silk oriental Damask for the current middle-eastern influences and finally all enclosed by Italian leather, the culture currently surrounding me.

Separated these various textiles, or representations of cultures live nicely, but when mixed and brought together within the same space, the same object, a sort of competition for attention begins. The underlying wavelengths for each textile (the associated hues) begin cancelling each other out. The differing textures, the differing fiber, the differing emotionologies associated with each fabric creates a cacophony, an arrhythmia. The object is left with an identity crisis. The object does not know where it belongs anymore.

What this showed me, like in the case of trees, some stories are best kept hidden, only letting them effect the most recent experiences through their underlying presence.

Ninì will not show itself in this sate of lesser pride. She will remain hidden like a child who stays indoors because her favourite jeans are in the laundry.

Eventually the sounds of arrhythmia shaped a melody and brushed out the unwanted emotionolgies. The more prominent hues overwhelmed the recessive ones and a new compressed tale began.



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