“Not Always True But Always Real” by Juliet Martin

January 27, 2023

Autobiographically driven, my work combines a variety of sources and materials. From figurative and digital imagery, to hand- and machine-woven fabrics with drawing and painting, the sculptural pieces I create are infused with the emotional, often humorous themes of heartbreak. Weaving and sewing are meditative, even when the result is uncomfortable—capturing romance’s physical pain. Conversely, my painted pillows and dolls, while first seeming innocent, reveal themselves to be as deceptive as love. Soft becomes hard, as when a child’s toy becomes an adult nightmare. My fiber has a memory. All these concepts are what feed into my debut solo show, I See You Falling Out of Love with Me, at 440 Gallery (Brooklyn, New York) February 9–March 12, 2023, with an opening on February 11, from 4–6 pm.

---

At the beginning of Covid-19, I found myself getting anxious every time my spouse left the apartment. What if he got Covid and died and never came back? When he took out the trash, I would panic and call him. Will you ever come back to me? Concurrently, I had started drawing furniture, lamps, and fruit bowls, displacing my usual portraits. Looking at my sketchbooks, I realized since Covid-19 began, household objects were the only thing I could count on, a literal still life. Sleeping on the sofa became a necessity. The sofa, compared to the bed, did not have an empty spot next to me. With my sofa covered in upholstery fabric and decorated with handwoven pillows, fiber became my booster, my security blanket. 

After submitting an initial proposal to a gallerist I liked, she sent me her condolences. Whoops, had I tricked her? Or was the fear in my heart real enough for me to justify mourning? Scrambling to clarify that I was not widowed, I said, “This is about the concept of loss, not loss itself.” Did that make it more sincere or less? My fear was real, but my husband was still real too.

My tapestries with falling figures literally depicted falling out of love. Ashamed of my one-liner, I thought, “What if I see someone falling out of love with me?” Suddenly the falling figures became more erratic, almost helpless, conveying unease and discomfort. The animal skulls blend with the vulnerable bodies to protect from heartbreak, like how I can’t protect myself.

The tapestries became a heartfelt woven playground—abstractedly constructed canvases with allusions to a fantasy landscape. Depressed bodies printed on fabric cascade downward to reflect the duress of rocky relationships. In the background, hand-painted swirls and eyes float on the surface echoing the upheaval of lost love. Together they emphasize the motion of dying romance.

As I See You Falling Out of Love with Me developed, a colleague asked what inspired this portrayal. First I congratulated myself for conjuring such pain out of nothing—I was that good. Then, guiltily, I invented a story—said it was about my past divorce. But as soon as that came out of my mouth, I realized that heartbreak was real—my misery was true. The insight brought new depth to the pieces that followed. Are the falling figures him, or are they me?

I feel fabric breathe with me. Spinning, weaving, drawing, writing, painting, dyeing. My insecurity evokes a detail-oriented process and opens myself to my audience. I can’t help but tell a story, imaginary or otherwise, any other way. The simple design of my loom, only two heddles, encourages improvisation and even mistakes. My compositions are as much poetry as artwork. It is hard to weave without emotion. Weaving becomes my noun and my verb.

julietmartin.com | @remotelyjuliet 

–Juliet Martin has a BA in Visual Art from Brown University and a MFA in Computer Art from SVA. Her work has been profiled in the New York Times and she was named one Artsy’s “Women Artists to Watch.” She lives and weaves in Brooklyn.