We interviewed Claire Manners Wood in our publication “Abstracted” surrounding the concept of abstract. Visit the publication here.
Grief is a complex, evolving emotion. In what ways do you feel that creating these sculptures each year allowed you to measure or reflect on the progress of your healing?
After my mother died (in mid-2021) I was really stuck – I had a lot of creative ideas, but just couldn’t start them. It was when I was looking through my mum’s Japanese printed cottons that I knew this was the project to get me started, and I immediately had a rough image of Japanese Graden Autumn/Winter in my head. I finished the first one in July 2022.
I feel my subconscious was guiding me a lot as the first sculpture was dark and tight and not many adornments. I cannot remember when I decided to make the kimono – but it made sense to represent my mother with one. I have pattern matched the back seams of the kimonos, which while it is a small detail, is one which shows a huge respect for the skills my mother taught me. She was an incredible seamstress and could make anything, but her passion was making quilts. A number of these Japanese fabrics from all three sculptures are on a wedding quilt she made me.
The changing colours and shapes of the sculptures each year show me how I have been able to move forward in life and yet still remember my mum. After I completed the first one, I could move on to creating other artworks and sculptures.
Can you explain the significance of the triptych format in your sculptures? Why did you decide to present the progression of grief in three distinct parts (Autumn/Winter, Spring and Summer)?
The triptych wasn’t planned at the beginning when I made the first sculpture. However, with such an amazing inherited collection of these beautiful Japanese cottons, I knew they would work to continue the series, especially with various colours of the same designs. The kimono fabrics are my favourites – I have the same pattern in seven different colours.
My mother loved her garden and was always chatting about her garden’s changes. Hence the title of Japanese Garden for the series, which relates to the fabrics as well as my mum’s love of gardens and seasons.
I made many fabric origami flowers to more formally represent her garden. In the final sculpture the leaf fronds, created with free motion machine embroidery, show the new directions and growth in my life, particularly in my creative life. They are established and growing over the initial pain. The buds of recycled threads and strings of beads remind me not only our joint love of textiles and jewellery, but also how I hold on to my mother’s memories and carry her with me.
I have made one sculpture every year since her death, and the slow making of them has allowed me to show the forward movement of my grief process. The final one, ‘Japanese Garden Summer’ completed in September this year, was really difficult to complete because despite the fact that it shows I have moved forward, my grief has not ended. By putting the kimono towards the back of the final sculpture, I am showing that I still think of my mother, and the grief is still around, but it is not the all-consuming immediate pain that it was in the beginning.
The process of the creation of the sculptures is very hands-on and intimate- especially with the incorporation of the personal items from your mother. How does the act of physically making these pieces help you process the grief in ways that words or other forms of expression may not?
Using my mother’s fabrics and personal items is cathartic – when I use these fabrics I know she has done the same and this brings me some solace. I find myself having ongoing (internal) discussions with her about how I use them, which colours to use and how they are lined up next to each other. Having these conversations is probably the main way I can process my grief – to acknowledge our joint love of these fabrics, to use the skills she taught me, and creating a visual representation of her, which keeps me feeling close to her despite her absence.
What role do you think art plays in helping others process grief and what do you hope viewers will take away from your sculptures?
I believe any creative outlet helps to work through life’s issues, pain and joy. The act of creating, of allowing your subconscious to direct your work, is a release in any format.
For me the colours represented the various states of mind – dark colours for the hard, painful early days, pinks for the emerging hope, and greens for the acceptance and being able to settle into new creative directions. Funnily enough I wore similar colours in my clothes over these periods as well. And every day for the first two years I wore a piece of my mum’s jewellery to carry her with me wherever I went. I still often wear something of hers, but it is not as crucial as it was.
In Japanese Garden Spring, there is a concept of a garden emerging from winter to spring- how do you feel this mirrors your own process of healing after loss?
In Japanese Garden Spring the pinks are hopeful – to be able to choose and then use these colours made me realise that I had taken a forward step in my healing process. I was starting to see through the darkness into more light. I could feel a renewal and a re-building of energy and creativeness, much like a garden coming out of winter into the increasing warmth and sunshine of spring. This was important to me as it meant that I could also work on both this sculpture and other projects in a more positive way.
As you continue to create annual sculptures, do you envision them evolving further as your healing journey continues?
I feel my Japanese Garden series is complete. I feel I have honoured my mother by making them, and I think she would love them. Allowing myself to ‘complete’ the series gives me permission to move in other directions.
However, I have other beautiful fabrics inherited from my mother which I plan to incorporate into other sculptures and works. And using these fabrics will always prompt memories of her, honour her and continue the ongoing healing process.
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@claire.mannerswood.art