In 2000, Agnès Varda made a very beautiful film “Les glaneurs et la glaneuse” which touched my heart.
I, too, glean – I stop to pick up objects that catch my eye, not because of neediness or tidiness – I pick up things that have been left behind and which please me. Pallets, sticks, wooden spools that used to carry coils of electrical wire, used oars, an old curtain of beads, an old box… It’s a simple undertaking that I carry out because I love old wood and I enjoy retrieving it and giving it a second life. It is always a unique encounter. Often the abandoned object beckons to me and imposes itself on me.
The materials that I use vary according to what is available at the time – wood, linen, jute, boiled wool, lace, metal, bark, leather – but the processes are the same: embroidering, knotting, crossing, weaving, lacing, suspending, binding, swaddling, pleating, fraying…
I much prefer materials in poor condition, which have already lived and are tarnished, damaged, torn, rusty… rarely shiny! If they are not worn enough, I take care of it. I leave them in earth or in coffee grounds, I polish them, I scarify the wood…
The works are often presented in pairs, in a close and complementary dialogue between two partners, two entities.
I am self-taught. I have not followed an artistic path that can be described as orthodox. I did not receive any classical training in a Fine Arts workshop, for example. But I can name a few milestones that definitely helped to influence my tastes.
There were sewing lessons in a college for young girls: we were given small squares samples of fabric to carry out exercises for creating buttonholes, darning, thrown points, stem stitch or straight stitch. overlocking, knotting, chain-stitch, for example. It was necessary to apply oneself to succeed each week!
I later understood how much we learn by observation.
As a child I visited my grandfather, a saddler, in his workshop, where the voluminous saddles and the harnesses hung beside the carding machine, with the sticky threads and the curved needles which crossed the leather twice, so thick that they had to be pulled through using a clamp.
I always used to see my mother with some kind of work in her hands: baby booties made with four needles, knitting for babies or friends’ children, jacquard, embroidered tablecloths, monograms on sheets, drawn thread work… there were always a lot of bright colours and floral patterns.
Later, in my forties, I tackled a serious exercise in embroidery that became ‘Abécédaire’ (see Fabric). It took me seven consecutive summers to complete. It was a holiday activity only and was an illuminating learning experience. I have rarely been so determined and cheerfully applied. Studious work but never tedious. This exercise refined different skills that I used later to achieve creative interpretations in my work.
