Unraveling
I was fortunate enough to visit the Barbican Centre’s Unravel Exhibition recently with our Library’s & Collections’ Anti-Racism Community of Praxis. The visit gave us a chance to spend some time together reflecting on art, power, politics and textiles, bringing with us our lens as library workers. The exhibition focused on how textiles have been used in art to challenge existing power structures and imagine new futures.
A number of pieces had been withdrawn from the exhibition by the creators and lenders as a statement against the Barbican Centre’s decision not to host the London Review Winter Lecture series. You can read more about that decision here: go to A statement from the Barbican in relation to the London Review of Books Winter Series. Rather than remove all trace of the withdrawn artwork or replacing them with other pieces, the curators left the descriptive plaques in place alongside a notice drawing attention to the act of withdrawal. Some of those who withdrew artworks had their letters explaining their decision displayed too. Other artists who chose not to withdraw were also able to include their reflections on keeping their work in the exhibition. This created a rather “meta” theme for us as workers in the GLAM sector and how as curators, librarians and archivists we steer our collections through complex social and political straits.
There was still plenty to see and it was refreshing how many different identities, cultures and artists were represented throughout the exhibition through the medium of textile and fabric. Many of the exhibits were hard-hitting and thought provoking; tackling violence, oppression and discrimination. Others played with nostalgia or were a joyful celebration of family and friends. Honouring individual and collective identities and histories was a key theme, highlighting how textiles have largely been a source of expression, community and empowerment (and also material existence) for women, LGBT people and the marginalised around the world. All this was showcased against the backdrop of recognising how textiles and working with fabric have been shown disrespect and contempt for being “women’s” pursuits. This disregard for what is considered feminine or feminized, echoing through the history of library work and computing.
From a professional point of view, I was deeply moved by Billie Zangewa’s Midnight Aura, a hand-stitched silk collage of herself sleeping restfully under a quilt. The quilt initially appears to be a comforting and beautiful sleeping aid, but features patterns from Dutch companies trading in colonial West and Central Africa, rendering it more a complex item than it appears at first glance. There is no doubt though that the artist is depicting “radical rest” in opposition to the demands for productivity our society makes on women both in the workplace and domestic sphere. It put me somewhat in mind of the tangle of complicated feelings I have around the emerging narrative of “slow librarianship” and resisting the “innovation fetish” (Farkas, 2023), of the need to decouple our worth from our output. In a profession with issues around burnout and vocational awe (Ettarh, 2018), this felt like an important statement.
The other artwork that really spoke to me were a series of embroidered squares by artist LJ Roberts, depicting friends at parades and protests. Each small portrait in thread was provocative and joyful, capturing a moment of activism and voice in a very personal way. But what really caught me about this particular artwork was that each piece was displayed in a glass case perpendicular to the gallery wall, allowing us to see the back as well as the front; displaying the messiness of the reality and the work. The accompanying plaque explained that Roberts wanted to draw attention to the “messy underside” of each of us as individuals. Part of what I think drew me to librarianship was wanting to tame mess and render complexity into something more straight forward. Increasingly I’m learning to lean into the messiness and complexity of information, rather than trying to keep smoothing it into something that has the appearance of being manageable. I was also reminded of the idea that librarianship as a rule has always sought to make its own labour invisible: by taking care of the hard stuff and making everything easier for our patrons, rather than being honest about the work that goes on to make information flow more smoothly.
Some of the of pieces of art were so beautiful, it was difficult to grasp the social or political message behind them; they were just simply too captivating. Popping colours, layered textures. Shades of blue you wanted to dive into. Just mesmerizing. And I guess there’s a point there in itself. That these pieces of art, largely by women and the marginalised, contain an intrinsic value and worth that defies analysis and needs no explanation. Both glorious and awe inspiring, their beauty speaks to a higher truth.
If you didn’t get a chance to see the exhibition before it closed at the Barbican, it transfers to Amsterdam from September, so maybe a good excuse for a city break?
https://www.barbican.org.uk/whats-on/2024/event/unravel-the-power-and-politics-of-textiles-in-art
Ettarh, F. (2018). Vocational awe and librarianship: the lies we tell ourselves. https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/
Farkas, M. (2023, 8 Aug). Slow librarianship and prioritizing life over work. https://meredith.wolfwater.com/wordpress/2023/08/08/slow-librarianship-and-prioritizing-life-over-work/