RED CROSS BLANKETS (2023)
Knitted as part of the Memorial Gestures artist's residency at Holocaust Centre North in England, from locally-sourced 100% combed cotton yarn
Through these life-size knitted blankets, I explore the profound tapestry of loss inherent in the wake of the Holocaust. The content of the words stitched into the textiles is based upon telegrams and letters in the archive at Holocaust Centre North; conveying sentiments of warmth, affection, and solidarity, these messages—facilitated by organizations such as the Red Cross—were often the only means of communication between people imprisoned in concentration camps and their loved ones in the outside world. Despite the constraints of Nazi censorship and character limits, such telegrams are profound evidence of love’s ability to transcend political and physical walls. And yet, an ever-looming spectre lingers—were these their last words?
The process of creating these textile works is an act of remembrance and reclamation. Meticulously selecting local yarns and knitting the blankets using on-site machines during my residency in Huddersfield, I feel acutely aware of the lives that once hung by these words. The choice of materials is deliberate, with the texture, color, and weight carrying their own symbolic significance; the interplay of vibrant hues, contrasting with somber undertones, reflects the resilience and hope that emerged amidst an environment suffused with sorrow and despair.
Serving as a means of visceral engagement with the personal, social, and cultural dimensions of the archive, the primary intention of these blankets is their tactile nature: visitors are encouraged to snuggle with them and warm themselves, illuminating the diverse narratives and experiences interwoven within, and conveying an intimate understanding of the weight of lives lost.
Knitted as part of the Memorial Gestures artist's residency at Holocaust Centre North in England, from locally-sourced 100% combed cotton yarn
Through these life-size knitted blankets, I explore the profound tapestry of loss inherent in the wake of the Holocaust. The content of the words stitched into the textiles is based upon telegrams and letters in the archive at Holocaust Centre North; conveying sentiments of warmth, affection, and solidarity, these messages—facilitated by organizations such as the Red Cross—were often the only means of communication between people imprisoned in concentration camps and their loved ones in the outside world. Despite the constraints of Nazi censorship and character limits, such telegrams are profound evidence of love’s ability to transcend political and physical walls. And yet, an ever-looming spectre lingers—were these their last words?
The process of creating these textile works is an act of remembrance and reclamation. Meticulously selecting local yarns and knitting the blankets using on-site machines during my residency in Huddersfield, I feel acutely aware of the lives that once hung by these words. The choice of materials is deliberate, with the texture, color, and weight carrying their own symbolic significance; the interplay of vibrant hues, contrasting with somber undertones, reflects the resilience and hope that emerged amidst an environment suffused with sorrow and despair.
Serving as a means of visceral engagement with the personal, social, and cultural dimensions of the archive, the primary intention of these blankets is their tactile nature: visitors are encouraged to snuggle with them and warm themselves, illuminating the diverse narratives and experiences interwoven within, and conveying an intimate understanding of the weight of lives lost.