American textile artist Amy Gross works from her home studio in South Florida. Amy’s fiber sculpture highlights the beauty of the natural world from microscopic spores and seed pods to leaves and birds. Her art is so beautifully detailed it’s incredible that it is all handmade. ‘I’m fascinated by symbiosis and scale, how we are influenced not only by what we can see but the smallest of life forms.’

What is your background in textiles?

My father was a wallpaper designer and muralist when I was very young, and later became an art director for a textile design company. So I grew up in a world surrounded by all kinds of fabric and the painted artwork that had been transformed into fabric. I remember sitting in my dad’s basement studio in front of files filled with antique swatches and intricate gouaches of roses and peonies and every kind of leaf. I studied both graphic design and painting at Cooper Union in New York City, not sure of whether I wanted to paint or design. I did become a surface designer, and made children’s products for bedding and toys for two decades. But by the end it was all digital, and although I love my computer, I longed to make things by hand. But because my family’s story was about paint and brushes, I had to teach myself to stitch and bead.

How do you describe your work?

The first thing I always say is that I’m a fiber sculptor, and that I make these pieces to try to merge the natural world with my own inner life. We live in a physical world but we process everything we experience through our individual mind’s eye – this is my way of making my thoughts about what I love and fear visible. I’m fascinated by symbiosis and scale, how we are influenced not only by what we can see but the smallest of life forms, invisible things made large for us through microscopes and photos in books and on screens. In my objects and sculptures the tiniest spore is the same size as a leaf or a seed pod or a bird – they coexist and interact and alter each other, for better or for worse. 

What is it about textile / fibre art that appeals to you?

I love how imitative fiber and fabric and beads and thread can be. They can be manipulated and knotted and twisted and stitched into moss and soil and cells and cilia. The process of turning one thing into something else entirely, something that seems to live, is so affirming and fascinating to me. I love ordinary craft store materials because of this. It doesn’t matter what they were meant to do – they are totally open to be anything you want them to be. And there is the meditative aspect of working in fiber too, each bead applied and every stitch or knot counting a breath, a moment lived. It’s like leaving a trail, in a way, in a life that rushes by very quickly.

You have a very individual style, how did this evolve? 

It all started when I moved to Florida, a place where plants never stop growing. I live in a suburban neighbourhood so it’s as developed as it can possibly be, but there’s always this undercurrent of wildness just waiting under the surface. I was fascinated by how quickly green things and small creatures take over anything just barely neglected, so I started making hand sewn fabric and beaded jewellery based on those plants and insects, creating embellished pendants from transfers of their leaves and webs and wings. Then the pendants grew larger, unwearable, so I started making shadowboxes, then freestanding objects under glass, then more abstracted sculptures that broke free and climbed the walls. It happened slowly, one step following the other. I don’t know if I would have had the courage if I had decided to be a sculptor of any kind right away.

Can you briefly describe the process of creating one of your art works? 

Each one is a little different, of course, but I do often begin with a very rough sketch in a little book, with lots of barely legible notes scribbled around it. If I haven’t convinced myself I work on more realistic drawings in Photoshop, figure out colour, move elements around. I don’t often look back at the sketches because I want the making of it to be a kind of adventure. It takes me so long to complete each piece that I experiment while I’m working on it, and if something doesn’t work it gets the scissors or the pliers. That was a hard thing to learn, to let go, shrug once in a while and say, yeah, nice try. 

I know this is a very broad question but how long does a piece take?

My largest work, the installations with many pieces, usually take about six months. Smaller work generally ranges from two weeks to a month each. And not every day is inspiring, so you have to put the hours in, power through.

What is your career highlight to date?

I think I would be last years’ Southern Prize experience, where I was named Finalist to Rory Doyle’s wonderful First Prize win. Because of my many years of commercial designing I’m a late bloomer, and to be considered part of a group of such amazing artists was head spinning for me. The entire South Arts community made me feel like I could be and do more than I would have ever imagined when I first started making art.

Do you have any advice for aspiring textile artists? 

The textile community is one of the most open and inclusive art community I’ve encountered. It encompasses so many approaches and philosophies and techniques. There are centuries of tradition and history, many skills to learn and master. But very few in the fiber world will tell you that you must stick to a script. They will be open to you whether you’re expressing yourself personally or politically or making a wearable or useful object, or all at the same time. Meet as many artists as you can, even if it’s only through the laptop right now. When the world opens up again, take workshops, find fiber themed exhibits to enter, join groups. You will meet like minded artists who will expand what you think you know about fiber, what you can do and how you can do it.  

Are there any exciting plans ahead?

Just a few weeks ago I found out that I was one of five artists chosen to receive a Palm Beach County Artist Innovation Grant, and because of this wonderful opportunity I can spend the year working on a project I had been putting off for a while now. I’ll be able to work with 3-D technology and artisans and combine what I do with techniques I haven’t tried before – a real chance to stretch my limits.

Is there anything you would like to add?

Maybe a little bit about changing course in mid-stream? As a younger person I had made all kinds of decisions about what kind of artist I was, and could not have imagined that I would be doing what I am doing now, or even that I would be someone who works three dimensionally. Life can be incredibly surprising. It came from the need to make things, even if it meant learning to embroider or bead after work, thread and yarn and pins spilled all over my coffee table. The smallest little gestures can expand into a new life.

www.amygross.com

https:/pinterest.com/amydsign/boards/ 

Amy’s art can be viewed at Momentum Gallery in Asheville, North Carolina.