The following ARTIST STATEMENT was written by Annemieke
in 1991 for her book THE ART OF ANNEMIEKE MEIN: WILDLIFE ARTIST IN
TEXTILES.
The
encouragement of an awareness of our environment and an understanding of the
importance of the preservation of our natural heritage are among the most
important needs of our time. Gippsland, where I have lived for twenty years,
still has a rich diversity of flora and fauna. It covers about one-sixth of
Victoria and its habitats range from snowy high plains and plateaus to forests,
grasslands, inland lakes, rivers, wetlands and beaches. Man’s use of the natural
resources of this region — its oil, natural gas, coal, timber, water and the
soil itself together with the accompanying population growth, will inevitably have a profound effect on the
survival of its wildlife. I have already seen disturbing changes in the
environment and witnessed the effects of apathy, ignorance, financial greed and
premeditated vandalism.
Through my textiles, whether sculptures, wall works or ‘wearables’, I
hope to make people more aware of
our native species while expressing my love and concern for our natural
environment. My art has evolved through my lifelong interest in Australian flora
and fauna. I still use any excuse to go out in the field and always feel
rejuvenated when I do so. Each work requires extensive research, field studies,
observation, specimen collecting, countless sketches and a disciplined timetable
of working hours.
Insects are my primary interest. With the aid of fish tanks, boxes, jars
and netted cages I have been able to successfully breed many of them and observe
their complete life cycles. This has given me deeper insight into their
particular characteristics and behaviour and assisted me in portraying them in
original and credible ways.
I
study species of birds, frogs and lizards in the wild, then sketch, photograph
and research them further through library references. From time to time mounted
specimens have been borrowed from museums and collectors, and live specimens
have been lent by breeders. Many an unfortunate road victim has been delivered
to me by a supportive local community member.
My
textile works generally portray indigenous Australian species. Although many are
realistic in style, they are not correct in every botanical or anatomical
detail. Instead, they try to capture an event or experience, and the mood or
motion that the subjects have aroused in me. The works are also designed to have
a strong visual impact through larger-than-life relief dimensions, textural
variations and colour combinations. I especially enjoy depicting species that
are not normally considered interesting, let alone beautiful, and visually
enhancing their individual charms and attributes by giving a great deal of
attention to their fine details. The sculpture Cup Moth Larva is an example. This is a
grub to be wary of - its bristles give a nasty sting - yet I have chosen to
feature the beauty of its multicoloured saddle.
Sketching has also been a lifelong interest. My initial sketches are
quick and simple, and are intended only to capture an action, antic or
behavioural pose. Full-scale work layouts and plans, however, can take weeks to
prepare before I begin a textile.
Designing a textile on paper is very different from executing it in
fabric, because I have to allow for the light and shade created by the relief
work, and the textures of the various materials. It is also easy to clutter a
work with too much detail in the sewing, and knowing when to stop is a learned
art. I prefer designs that look simple, yet their making may be extremely
complex.
Often the colours used are not identical to the real species, as I prefer
to alter colour tones to suit the mood and purpose of the design. In my early
work I preferred the soft muted colours of our bush and landscape and generally
used brighter pigments very sparingly. Splashes of colour were only introduced
on focal points, such as the inside of a bird’s beak or on the wing of an
airborne insect. In later years I have enjoyed using a wider range of colours,
particularly in my imaginative and interpretational works, such as the Mythical
Moth series. I have also used paint more extensively as a colour-tone basis for
embroidery, both on the backing canvas and on the fabric of the
sculptures.
The
materials used, such as silk, wool, fur, cotton and synthetics, are carefully
chosen for their colour, texture, durability, credibility and aesthetic appeal.
These fabrics are then meticulously painted and stitched to enhance the tactile
quality that is unique to textiles. For example, sheer silk stockings basically
resemble the wings of many insects but with appropriate embellishment they can
be made to mimic a particular species quite remarkably. Similarly, a piece of
dull green wool can be transformed into a leaf, a frog, a moth wing or a
grasshopper. Each type of
fabric has its individual
inspiration for me. I am an avid collector of all sorts of materials, whether
new, pre-loved or recycled. A room in my home is devoted to their storage in
colour-graded compartments, and I treasure my fabric
collection.
Pattern drafting is an exacting stage in all my works. I draft
tissue-paper patterns from the completed full-scale pencil-on-paper design
layout. Angles have to be precisely drafted to suit the size and shape of the
relief area. This is rather like drafting darts in a dress to fit the female
form. The designs for sculptural textiles often need to be broken down into many
separate sections, as in Slate Pencil Sea
Urchin and Fallen Red Gum Log.
Also, because of the size limitations imposed by the arm of the sewing machine,
all my wall designs are divided into small workable areas. Large works, such as
Freedom and Fantail Rhapsody, are made up of several
hundred pieces of fabric. Each small part is individually stitched before being
attached to the backing fabric, a process rather like working on a giant jig-saw
puzzle. Even with extensive forward planning, areas often have to be remade,
their colours or textures toned up or down to modify the effect. Other pieces
may be scrapped altogether. While these small sections are only pinned or tacked
together, there is a great deal of improvisation and alteration, such as
adjusting angles, particularly in relief areas. A few degrees can make an
enormous difference to the balance, design flow, optical impression and shadows
cast. Even when taking great care, there are often days when I seem to be doing
more unpicking than sewing.
The
sewing is only the last of many stages in a work. It is the culmination of
sometimes weeks of planning, with an infinite number of decisions made daily
that will all affect the end product. Fine details, such as the expression of an
eye or the stamens of flowers, are sewn by hand. Sculptural forms particularly
require a lot of hand sewing to avoid flattening their outer shape. This is a
slow, laborious job but well worth the effort.
Machine embroidery involves only four variations of the basic lock
stitch: straight stitch, zigzag, stitches with more thread showing on the front
of the fabric, or those with more showing on the back. When these are combined
with different stitch lengths, widths, needles, feet, threads and fabrics the
various possibilities are endless. Each work featured in this book has been
stitched on normal household sewing machines - Husqvarna Class 20, and models
6570, 6370, 990 and 1100.
I
take pride in the neatness of completed work so all thread ends are tied off at
the back of the canvas or inside the relief structure to achieve a flat, strong,
secure and tidy finish. Where possible they are also ‘invisibly’ embroidered
back into the fabric. Some large works have countless thousands of ends to tie
and I deal with them on a daily oasis. Steam ironing the individual parts, as
well as the total canvas, is also a constant chore.
The
techniques I use include machine embroidery, painting, dyeing, appliqué,
trapunto, quilting, pleating, moulding, sculpting, felting, hand embroidery,
beading, spinning, weaving, plying, stiffening and wiring - in a limitless
number of combinations
My
major commissioners and patrons deserve a mention. They have allowed me
artistic, financial and emotional freedom within the constraints of a sound
brief. They have also allowed me to exhibit their commissions prior to
installation in their home environment. I acknowledge their large contribution
to my artistic growth and development, and thank them
sincerely.
Textile art and Australian wildlife have become my hobby, profession and addiction.