My son was living in Japan when the tsunami struck in 2011. After seeing aerial views of the tsunami damage, I opened my collection of Japanese textiles. Japan has a very polite culture: everything is neatly wrapped. In this piece, objects (including ceramic shards which I dug out of the mud at low tide at the Mayajima Gate) are tightly wrapped, too, each in separate bundles. The blackened sections have been ripped open, representing the emotional devastation to a rigidly structured society. Part of the border is made from an old saki bag, found at a Koyoto temple flea market. On the right side, you can see where the tsunami has broken through the saki bag border.
Almost all materials in the top layer are natural textiles found in Japan (even the ‘streets’ are made from old Japanese textile bundles). The light sections are natural color; the dark sections are the same materials, but dyed. There is heavy felt batting to hold all this, and a cotton backing. The top layer was entirely hand sewn (some machine sewing on back).
Each section is a separately constructed package: a piece of felt, wrapped in cloth, with a found object, all carefully sewn into a tight bundle. All the packages were arranged, and sewn to the top and felt layers. The edges have been left raw; the hanging rod has been sewn into the back.
I’m aware that my art has a too-tight, severe aspect. Perhaps, like Japanese gardens, I try to create miniature controlled worlds.