Loading...

Annet Couwenberg

Winter is a season of family gathering. But to the artist known for marrying traditional textile practice and digital fabrication, it can also be a creative revelation.

Howl6 ft3 web header

 Whose shoul­ders am I stand­ing on?’ is a ques­tion I often pose of my work, but now I reflect on Mara and B and ask, What of my her­itage will be pre­served or should be pre­served, and what of it should be questioned?’ ”

— Annet Couwenberg
Howl6 ft3 web deviation two ways
Mara Meyers wears 'Living Organism' in two different positions.
Photo: Dan Meyers
Howl6 ft3 web deviation
Like all of A Family Affair, the artwork 'Deviation' was photographed at Couwenberg and Meyers’s Baltimore home.
Photo: Dan Meyers

What knowl­edge and cus­toms do we embrace in our search to define our­selves? Which ones do we leave behind? And what aspects of our iden­ti­ty are impos­si­ble to con­trol, no mat­ter how hard we try?

These ques­tions have intrigued Bal­ti­more-based artist Annet Couwen­berg since her child­hood in Rot­ter­dam, where three gen­er­a­tions of Couwen­berg women would gath­er every Tues­day for a sewing cir­cle. From their mak­ing I learned about their char­ac­ter, about who they were, [as well as] how their meth­ods reflect­ed their per­son­al­i­ties, the cul­ture, and how they per­ceived their roles in life,” she recalls. Tech­nique was as for­ma­tive as the final textile.

Couwen­berg also notes times when the for­ma­tion of an artis­tic iden­ti­ty elud­ed her con­trol. At her first-ever stu­dent pre­sen­ta­tion at Cran­brook, for exam­ple, a vis­it­ing artist took one look at Couwenberg’s work and announced that it was forged by north­ern Euro­pean hands; the cri­tique made her think about an inescapable ances­tral intel­li­gence” and how I could move [that] into the present and the future.”

Today, while Couwenberg’s work makes overt ref­er­ence to Delft­ware and oth­er sig­na­tures of Dutch cul­ture, she is equal­ly inter­est­ed in the process­es by which these objects are made — and how she might replace them with more con­tem­po­rary con­struc­tion tech­niques. Among oth­er things, she has con­ceived a con­tem­po­rary lace by CNC-cut­ting poly­eth­yl­ene into inter­con­nect­ing Y shapes, inves­ti­gat­ed Jacquard dig­i­tal weav­ing, and become so flu­ent in the soft­ware plat­form Rhi­no that Bmore­Art mag­a­zine stat­ed, In her own stu­dio prac­tice, Couwen­berg has so neat­ly dove­tailed tech­nol­o­gy with tra­di­tion­al craft meth­ods that the two can’t be separated.”

Couwenberg’s work got Bmore­Arts chief edi­tor Cara Ober to won­der­ing whether there were oth­er inter­sec­tions for the artist to explore. In 2019, Ober asked Couwen­berg how the shape of her futur­is­tic origa­mi and lace might change on the human form. Couwen­berg had thought about tex­tiles as a kind of skin that grows with the body and responds to envi­ron­men­tal stim­uli. She had not cre­at­ed tex­tiles explic­it­ly to be worn since a stint in New York’s fash­ion indus­try in the ear­ly 1980s.

Ober’s mus­ing sparked a new explo­ration for Couwen­berg, who agreed to for­mu­late an answer that would become A Fam­i­ly Affair. For the pho­to essay, the artist and her hus­band Dan Mey­ers, as well as their daugh­ter Mara Mey­ers and her part­ner B Bon­ner, con­vened in Bal­ti­more on the eve of the COVID-19 pan­dem­ic to dress in Couwenberg’s artworks.

A Fam­i­ly Affair inter­pret­ed Couwenberg’s tex­tile con­struc­tions as Dutch col­lars, in part because the artist had been try­ing to dis­sect the inher­ent con­tra­dic­tions of ruffs since 2001: it is quite beau­ti­ful and it makes you look quite impor­tant, but it is very much a con­stric­tion,” Couwen­berg says of the gar­ment; you have to wear it to belong to a posi­tion or a group of peo­ple, but you can’t move in it. You can’t do the work of belong­ing.” Through A Fam­i­ly Affair, Couwen­berg has begun to think of Dutch col­lars in new ways — per­haps as a metaphor for the per­son­al traits that fam­i­ly mem­bers can express or sup­press to main­tain the group peace. The shift has also prompt­ed Couwen­berg to think about her own work’s rela­tion­ship to fam­i­ly his­to­ry. “‘Whose shoul­ders am I stand­ing on?’ is a ques­tion I often pose of my work, but now I reflect on Mara and B and ask, What of my her­itage will be pre­served or should be pre­served, and what of it should be questioned?’”

Couwenberg’s mono­graph Sewing Cir­cles, which sur­veys work com­plet­ed in the past decade, will be pub­lished in Feb­ru­ary. As for what fol­lows, the artist antic­i­pates more trust­ing col­lab­o­ra­tions: Could they lead to addi­tion­al pat­tern-break­ing rever­sals? Can we rewrite the future togeth­er?” What­ev­er these answers, they will be a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of family.

What knowl­edge and cus­toms do we embrace in our search to define our­selves? Which ones do we leave behind? And what aspects of our iden­ti­ty are impos­si­ble to con­trol, no mat­ter how hard we try?

These ques­tions have intrigued Bal­ti­more-based artist Annet Couwen­berg since her child­hood in Rot­ter­dam, where three gen­er­a­tions of Couwen­berg women would gath­er every Tues­day for a sewing cir­cle. From their mak­ing I learned about their char­ac­ter, about who they were, [as well as] how their meth­ods reflect­ed their per­son­al­i­ties, the cul­ture, and how they per­ceived their roles in life,” she recalls. Tech­nique was as for­ma­tive as the final textile.

 Whose shoul­ders am I stand­ing on?’ is a ques­tion I often pose of my work, but now I reflect on Mara and B and ask, What of my her­itage will be pre­served or should be pre­served, and what of it should be questioned?’ ”

— Annet Couwenberg
Howl6 ft3 web deviation two ways
Mara Meyers wears 'Living Organism' in two different positions.
Photo: Dan Meyers

Couwen­berg also notes times when the for­ma­tion of an artis­tic iden­ti­ty elud­ed her con­trol. At her first-ever stu­dent pre­sen­ta­tion at Cran­brook, for exam­ple, a vis­it­ing artist took one look at Couwenberg’s work and announced that it was forged by north­ern Euro­pean hands; the cri­tique made her think about an inescapable ances­tral intel­li­gence” and how I could move [that] into the present and the future.”

Today, while Couwenberg’s work makes overt ref­er­ence to Delft­ware and oth­er sig­na­tures of Dutch cul­ture, she is equal­ly inter­est­ed in the process­es by which these objects are made — and how she might replace them with more con­tem­po­rary con­struc­tion tech­niques. Among oth­er things, she has con­ceived a con­tem­po­rary lace by CNC-cut­ting poly­eth­yl­ene into inter­con­nect­ing Y shapes, inves­ti­gat­ed Jacquard dig­i­tal weav­ing, and become so flu­ent in the soft­ware plat­form Rhi­no that Bmore­Art mag­a­zine stat­ed, In her own stu­dio prac­tice, Couwen­berg has so neat­ly dove­tailed tech­nol­o­gy with tra­di­tion­al craft meth­ods that the two can’t be separated.”

Couwenberg’s work got Bmore­Arts chief edi­tor Cara Ober to won­der­ing whether there were oth­er inter­sec­tions for the artist to explore. In 2019, Ober asked Couwen­berg how the shape of her futur­is­tic origa­mi and lace might change on the human form. Couwen­berg had thought about tex­tiles as a kind of skin that grows with the body and responds to envi­ron­men­tal stim­uli. She had not cre­at­ed tex­tiles explic­it­ly to be worn since a stint in New York’s fash­ion indus­try in the ear­ly 1980s.

Ober’s mus­ing sparked a new explo­ration for Couwen­berg, who agreed to for­mu­late an answer that would become A Fam­i­ly Affair. For the pho­to essay, the artist and her hus­band Dan Mey­ers, as well as their daugh­ter Mara Mey­ers and her part­ner B Bon­ner, con­vened in Bal­ti­more on the eve of the COVID-19 pan­dem­ic to dress in Couwenberg’s artworks.

A Fam­i­ly Affair inter­pret­ed Couwenberg’s tex­tile con­struc­tions as Dutch col­lars, in part because the artist had been try­ing to dis­sect the inher­ent con­tra­dic­tions of ruffs since 2001: it is quite beau­ti­ful and it makes you look quite impor­tant, but it is very much a con­stric­tion,” Couwen­berg says of the gar­ment; you have to wear it to belong to a posi­tion or a group of peo­ple, but you can’t move in it. You can’t do the work of belong­ing.” Through A Fam­i­ly Affair, Couwen­berg has begun to think of Dutch col­lars in new ways — per­haps as a metaphor for the per­son­al traits that fam­i­ly mem­bers can express or sup­press to main­tain the group peace. The shift has also prompt­ed Couwen­berg to think about her own work’s rela­tion­ship to fam­i­ly his­to­ry. “‘Whose shoul­ders am I stand­ing on?’ is a ques­tion I often pose of my work, but now I reflect on Mara and B and ask, What of my her­itage will be pre­served or should be pre­served, and what of it should be questioned?’”

Couwenberg’s mono­graph Sewing Cir­cles, which sur­veys work com­plet­ed in the past decade, will be pub­lished in Feb­ru­ary. As for what fol­lows, the artist antic­i­pates more trust­ing col­lab­o­ra­tions: Could they lead to addi­tion­al pat­tern-break­ing rever­sals? Can we rewrite the future togeth­er?” What­ev­er these answers, they will be a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of family.

Howl6 ft3 web deviation
Like all of A Family Affair, the artwork 'Deviation' was photographed at Couwenberg and Meyers’s Baltimore home.
Photo: Dan Meyers