Artist Brook Andrew with weavers Pamela Joyce, Chris Cochius & Karlie Hawking in front of the ‘Miili’ edition. Photograph: Marie-Luise Skibbe.

Chris Cochius reflects on her journey in and out of an organisation that feeds her creativity and provides a connection with fellow weavers.

(A message to the reader.)

I park the car about ten minutes walk away from work. A ritual walk long enough to think, observe, wonder. Sometimes my walk is all about where I am physically, and what I see around me: shadows, reflections, small peripherals that feed into my private practice. Sometimes my walk is an opportunity to think about what I do at work, what it means to me, and increasingly, how I can communicate that to others.

I am a weaver at the Australian Tapestry Workshop where I started just over 40 years ago—wide-eyed, impressionable and with the untethered enthusiasm of youth. I knew I had a lot to learn but was surrounded and supported by highly creative and skilled artists, weavers who inspired, taught and mentored me.

I travelled overseas and worked for a year at West Dean Tapestry Studio, weaving as part of a small team (under the umbrella of a larger artistic community teaching conservation, art and design) where I continued to learn, absorb, develop. I returned to Australia and became again part of the workshop, contributing to the making of wonderful tapestries, marvelling in the magic of making.

I thought about the process, about the artworks and artists, about colour and the materiality of tapestry. I was confident and comfortable in my skills and abilities and I worked hard. I was a professional weaver/artist who was committed to producing amazing tapestries, but I was still young and there were others more experienced who carried the responsibility and vision for the Workshop.

I left again this time for ten years of child-raising, gaining a plethora of new skills and an opportunity to reassess priorities and perspectives. No longer quite so young nor perhaps quite so confident, I returned to the Workshop when much was in a state of flux. The economic environment especially for the arts was no longer as robust and there were changes too within the Workshop after the Director Sue Walker, who had led from its inception, retired. In the wake of a new millennium and with renewed determination and commitment I rejoined the community that had helped shape me, to once again be part of the unique environment of the Workshop.

It was at this time that I also started to think about my own creative practice, ideas that were still unformed but demanding attention. I needed to understand how I worked, my thought processes, how an intuitive response could be communicated effectively without diminishing its fluidity. I thought about everything that I had learned, that had been passed on to me directly and by immersion, about methodology, technique and language. It was in this thinking that I began to realise the true importance of the Workshop not just to me but as an organisation in the wider arts community.

Working in tapestry is to join a world of tactility

Tapestry weaving is a very old technique but at the Workshop it becomes a medium that conveys vibrancy and contemporary imagery. Working in tapestry is to join a world of tactility, a medium that opens the viewer to something that is recognisable, perhaps familiar. It is that familiarity gives them the confidence to look, become enamoured, to feel connections. For those of us weaving at the Tapestry Workshop, it allows us to develop collaborative relationships with other artists and weavers, to create bonds of learning that extend beyond our small community.

Collaboration is an important tenet of the Workshop and an essential part of teamwork. It requires the ability to communicate effectively and openly; it is respecting different perspectives, establishing common goals, creating a shared vision, mutual understanding, generosity and continuous learning. These are all skills that are important to what we do as weavers but also seat us in humanity.

Interpretation is another important part of our process. It is the step beyond the act of attentive seeing, grasping the “feeling” of the artwork and its qualities. It is looking and listening to the colour, tone, linework, and contrasts. It is a process of thinking and making decisions, of looking at the details but never losing sight of the whole, of allowing the “essence” to shine without the effort being visible. It involves trust between the artist and the artist weaver, it requires honesty and integrity. All art is an interpretation, no matter what form or medium it takes: it is all an interpretation of an idea. Something elusive pinned down in tangible form. Our tapestries are translations of these.

There is a romantic notion that being an artist is a dream job, if indeed it is considered a job at all. The problem with romantic notions is that they undermine and minimise the professionalism and years of hard work required to make it look so “Zen”.

I have thought about what it means to be an artist, especially one who works within an organisation, collaborating continuously with artists and weavers and interpreting the work of others. I have looked at the work of translators of language who open up a world that would otherwise be unread by those without the original language. They show us places, cultures and ways of thinking that are different to our own, increasing our scope and understanding of what it is to be human in this world. I believe that artists have the same potential: to expand our thinking, to invite us to look closely, ask questions, feel beyond our daily routines. How we respond is dependent on time, context, experience and exposure.

It is also dependent on the continual sharing of skills and knowledge. This brings me to the importance of mentorship. The opportunity to pass on what I know is not just a relaying of information, it’s a resource of verbal, visual and personal learning where context, nuance and history are an essential and integral part of the handover of that knowledge. It means helping someone to grow and giving them a safe space to do that, to let them stand true and strong in what they believe but to also be open to all ideas. It is important as mentor to provide encouragement, support, and insights, to listen and answer truthfully. This will allow them to find their own voice so that they may go on to become mentors themselves so that we can continue to make vibrant contemporary tapestries of excellence. So that we can stay strong within the arts community.

About Chris Cochius

Chris Cohius is a weaver at the Australian Tapestry Workshop. Follow @chrischocice

Portrait: Chris Cochius in front of Listen, to the Sound of Plants designed by Janet Laurence in 2017, woven by Chris Cochius, Pamela Joyce and Cheryl Thornton; photo: Marie-Luise Skibbe.

Tags

G36 | tapestry | Victoria | weaving