The first time I saw “Lady Justice,” by Canadian artist Simone Elizabeth Saunders, I couldn’t stop looking. The picture on my phone was Instagram-sized, and the tufted surface of the piece flattened by my screen, but the combination of deeply-felt imagery and technical skill was nonetheless affecting. I zoomed in to study the letters on the crumpled loop-pile bandana, Justice’s traditional blindfold (or face mask?) cast aside. I zoomed out to feel Justice’s all-knowing expression; her demand for accountability, come what may.
“Lady Justice” is part of Protect Black Women (2020 - 2021),a series of machine-tufted and punch-needle wall hangings that combine direct text with visual symbolism to create bold, powerful portraits, not unlike the way stage performances bring characters to life. Prior to making textiles, Saunders was both an actor and a set designer, and a founding member of the Afrocentric Calgary theater company Ellipsis Tree Collective. “When I envision a textile, storytelling is my foundation,” she says. “My inspiration stems from narratives that amplify Black womanhood, belonging, and ancestorship.”
It wasn’t until her interest in set design led her to pursue fiber art at the Alberta University of the Arts that Saunders discovered tufting when one of her instructors showed an image of an artist with a tufting gun. The fiber department didn’t supply the machines, but Saunders took it upon herself to find one and learn anyway. “The gun itself is quite a powerful tool,” she recently told the Calgary Herald. “Building my relationship with that machine, there was a lot of power within that. Especially fashioning Black women.” The tufting gun opened up a whole new medium—one that Saunders soon mastered, and viewers quickly responded to.
Since graduating in 2020, Saunders’ work has been supported by galleries and institutions both in and beyond Canada. She was the National Winner of the Bank of Montreal’s prestigious 1st Art! award, and just closed out her debut museum show, at Contemporary Calgary, to rave reviews. Given the artist’s busy schedule, we were honored she took the time to give us a glimpse into her process.
First off, any tufter who sees your work can’t help but notice the extreme attention to detail. How do you achieve such precision?
When I tuft, I incorporate symbology and pattern to support the narrative I see in each piece. I tuft the work considering the viewer’s eye, wanting it to travel in and around the work—each thread requires my focus and dedication, which encourages me to achieve a fine level of detail. I draw from contemporary events, literature, music, plays, and my personal experiences and passions. My relationship to the tufting gun has become more and more refined with practice, allowing me the ability to tuft more ornate patterns. I take my time when I tuft. I don’t rush the process, I relish it! There are moments when deciding certain color combinations takes me a very long time. The vibration of color is always challenging and an exploration for me. And for my focus, having an understanding of color theory is key: knowing complementary, secondary and tertiary combinations. Having this foundation gives me room to play and navigate within the complexity of color.
I’m so interested in your evolution from acting and performance-involvement to fiber art and tufting. How does your theater background inform your visual art practice?
My theater background has been immensely advantageous to my textile practice. The art of storytelling drives my tufting, and is how I use my voice. I create a story, I develop my characters, and then I translate these into threads. The dramatics of Shakespeare inspire me, as well as the hauntingly charming Grimm’s fairy tales, and the powerful plays by Black playwrights such as Lynn Nottage or Djanet Sears. I draw from my passions and my past as resources, all to fuel these textile stories. There are no rules when creating, and when I’m tufting I feel free. The movement when tufting and the power of the tool—I feel in sync with it. The skill sets I’ve acquired from theater will support me for the rest of my life. I work at being in touch with my emotions, and that translates into my art. It takes vulnerability and a willingness to speak one's truth.
I love that you think of your portraits as character studies; it suggests you see your representations not just as images, but as living, breathing people. Where do these characters come from?
I start with a gaze. When creating portraits of Black women, I want our power and resilience to shine through. And the eyes are portals. The direction and intent of the gaze will pull in and engage the viewer. The character is developed through a curiosity for connection: What is happening in the world? What is this figure wanting to say? What world is she in? I draw strength from literature: Toni Morrison, Octavia Butler, Angela Davis . . . or from the lyrics of songs: Alicia Keys, Nina Simone, H.E.R, Queen Latifah. My portraits are created by collaging a figure from a milieu of beautiful and strong Black women. Sometimes I am inspired by a public figure: Serena Williams, Adut Akech, Lizzo, Nina Simone, FKA Twigs. An imagined figure becomes real to me once I draw her—becoming the character in the story I wish to portray.