In the Studio: Christine Nielson

You’ve built a practice rooted in weaving and many other mediums—can you share a bit about your background and what first led you to working with textiles? Was there a specific moment or influence that set you on this path?

Living with JB [JB Blunk] was an immersion in creativity. It was almost as though it was contagious. I had never imagined “making” anything, other than food, before I knew him. He taught me ceramics, simple jewelry construction, and inspired me in my quite extensive exploration of tie dye. Later a friend told me about a woman in Mill Valley named Ida Grae who was writing a book about natural dyes. Since color had become of interest to me, I decided to join the project. A group of women met with Ida every week for a year, experimenting with every plant we could imagine, or Ida could suggest, that might produce a color. “Nature’s Colors, Dyes with Plants” was the result. By the end of that time, I had a small mountain of colored yarn, all wool, and nothing to do with it. So, I learned to weave. I took a very basic class with Ida at Dominican College and later a tapestry workshop with Jean Pierre Larochette in San Francisco. Also, JB’s and my travels in Mexico and South America had exposed me to pre-Columbian weaving, which I found astonishing, so complex, detailed and exquisite.

Your pieces feel deeply attentive to material and process. Can you tell us a little about the materials and natural dyes that you use?

I source most of my fleece from a sheep rancher in Marshall, CA. Marcia raises primarily Romney and Corriedale sheep with a few Friesian blends. Then I have the fleece spun by a mill in New York. The natural colors, gray, brown and whites, are gorgeous and highly varied. The natural dyes I use primarily are indigo, fustic and madder. These give the primary shades, blue, yellow and red. I also use cutch, another tropical hardwood, for brown. I like fiddling with combinations to get different tones of gold and red-orange, blue-purples and greens. I also use some yarn spun in Mexico, from Lincoln wool, that is very fine but dyes fabulously. Some white I source from small outlets that differ slightly in thickness and twist to add interest to the surface of my pieces.

How does your personal environment—where you live and work—influence your color choices, textures, or patterns?

We have taken two trips to Lake Powell, a spectacular natural wonder. Both times I’ve left very inspired and intent on doing some work based on the colors and shapes of that environment. But alas, it is very difficult at the scale I work….6 threads per inch, 8/4 linen weft, and quite hefty yarn size, to evoke that landscape. I dyed a lot of earth-sandstone shades but after actually sitting at the loom, I realized it was not going to be possible, except in the most abstract representation. Given those limitations, I am much more engaged by historical, abstract references than in the often-beautiful environments where I live.

In a field that sits between art and craft, how have you navigated your identity as a weaver? Has that shifted throughout your career?

I have never considered myself an artist. It would be presumptuous to assume that descriptor. My “training” in weaving was absolutely minimal, only enough to learn the basic weaves and operation of a simple 4 harness loom. I see myself, especially at this point in my life, as an “accidental” weaver, craftsperson, but thanks to my daughter's encouragement and support, I re-committed to a practice I left over 35 years ago to become an also accidental, businesswoman. Between 1991 and 2008, I founded and ran Coyuchi, a company committed to the production of quality organic cotton bedding and bath products with an emphasis on fair trade and sustainability. Before that, 1988-1991, I ran a non-profit in the Mixteca Alta region of Oaxaca in the Driqui village of San Andres Chicahuaxtla. I recently saw the ongoing production of my two most talented and committed students, and a daughter of one, who have continued and greatly extended the floor loom wool weaving and natural dying techniques I taught them. Their work is outstanding and has won national awards in Mexico. I feel immense satisfaction, 38 years after I was there, to know that it is now a livelihood and creative practice for Otiilia, Hector and Yatahli. Their work can be seen on Instagram, @llanahuaricnn.

Weaving came back into my life by accident in 2018 when my husband and I moved from winters in Inverness, CA to winters in Palm Desert, CA. A friend gave me her 48 inch 4 harness floor loom. I had a bunch of yarn left from 6 years of making natural dyed sweaters in Oaxaca, Mexico, a 6-year project that succeeded the work in Chicahuaxtla, and I decided to make a rug and cushions for our new home in Palm Desert. In 2023 my daughter Mariah noticed a cushion I’d woven several years before and exclaimed that it was beautiful and did I have any more “work.” I showed her another piece, quite abandoned, on my loom and she exclaimed again, photographed it and posted images of both on Instagram. Somehow the story of 18 years of Coyuchi and organic cotton, along with having been a weaver years before and having worked in Mexico in an indigenous community, sparked a lot of interest. Suddenly, Mariah was talking about having a show [with me]. Three years later, after she began carving stone, it happened.

How do you balance tradition with experimentation in your work? Are there techniques you return to repeatedly?

I am inspired by rug weavers of the past, Navajo chief blankets from the past century, Iranian Manzandaran textiles, Anatolian kilims, and old Peruvian and Mexican weavings. Actually, Stephen Johanknecht did a series of paintings that sparked the idea of the “Bauhaus” series, which has inspired many cushions and two commissions. I review notes, books and photos from each of these groups at the start of every cushion “series,” usually weaving 4 at a time.

Weaving is a very time consuming and repetitive practice. Do you do anything to occupy your mind during this time, or do you just get lost in a meditative state?

I have listened to dozens of books over the past few years. Once a design is set, the mind is free to engage in a story or historical account while the hands work away.

How did your relationship with Commune begin?

Mariah introduced to me Roman and it’s gone on from there.

Do you have any upcoming projects that you are excited about?

I’m starting a very challenging rug project. It is difficult because it’s all green, which is not a color easily obtained from natural dyes. I’ve had to extrapolate on a happy accident. I had a skein of dyed grey yarn from Mexico, the dye of which was very blue and not very fast, so that the blue dye mixed with the yellow dye bath and made the yarn turn green…. a beautiful yellow-green. Because the colors are all related, the usual high-contrast techniques I use won’t work. It’s interesting to find a way to combine the various shades so that they are still lively. It’s become a sort of woodland in springtime….pale yellow-green blending with darker green, evoking sunlight through new chartreuse leaves, shining on darker trees and conifer needles.

You have traveled extensively for your work—learning, teaching, and exhibiting. Is there any place that you dream of visiting in the future?

I have certainly spent many years in Mexico and visited the old tapestry regions of France, Aubusson and Gobelins, many years ago. Since then, the Cite Internationale de la Tapisserie has opened in Aubusson and it would be quite fascinating to visit there.

Birds and fish are such colorful and fantastical creature and I would love to visit one of the tropical biospheres to see the birds there. And snorkel one last time in a part of the world that still has living coral, Indonesia or Fiji, and swim around the myriad exotic fish as JB and I did in the Caribbean waters off the coast of Quintana Roo in the 1970’s.

Interview by David Kasprzak
Photography by Jes Largey and David Kasprzak

See Christine's available work on Commune Shop!