Sarah Sullivan Sherrod
Using a combination of handwoven textiles and acrylic paint, Sarah Sullivan Sherrod’s bold geometric works emphasize the basic yet powerful notion that everything is connected.
Where are you from and where do you reside?
I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and somehow the magnet pulled me back here to stay. It’s a hidden gem of Middle America!
What necessities do you require when making your art (radio, specific paintbrushes)?
I do my work in phases: weaving, sewing, and painting, all with their own specific necessities. Weaving requires time more than anything - it’s such a meditative, rhythmic process (and kind of its own funky instrument) so I’ve learned that I prefer podcasts while weaving and music while sewing and painting. Working in silence slows me down, so there’s gotta be something playing.
My materials don’t change much. I use the same yarns, paints, and square brushes most of the time because I want the main variable to be the color. Other requirements: daylight and coffee - can’t have too much of either.
Describe a typical day in the studio for you.
My studio is upstairs in my house, and I’ve always worked well shifting between home and work in the same space. I knock out any computer stuff as early as possible so that I have the rest of the day to zone in on whatever I’m working on. Sometimes I’ll weave while I’m waiting for paint to dry, but I typically don’t jump between the two within the same day. Honestly, I’m a pretty messy painter (ironically), so outfit choice plays a factor in what I choose to do!
At the end of the day, I close up the studio and go downstairs to make dinner. Something about cooking makes it a satisfying transition out of my creative work brain.
What is the most difficult part of the artistic process for you?
Well, it’s my own fault that I chose such a tedious technique like weaving. I love doing it so much, but because of the time it takes, I have such a deep backlog of ideas. There’s never enough time!
For so many people, the need for play gets suppressed, overly organized, or distorted in some way. I’m adamant that it’s a part of my life, especially in my work. I make up little challenges as I weave. I pretend it’s all a puzzle I have to assemble.
Sarah Sullivan Sherrod
Are there any aspects of your process that are left to chance?
So much of it! I know it doesn’t look like it, but there’s so much improvisation in my work. Because I am limited by the parameters of the loom and the yarn options, I allow myself to dive into each warp only knowing the initial colors and nothing else. Every step after that is solely informed by what came before it.
The most fun part of the whole shebang is puzzling the various warps together and finding unexpected ways for them to interact. That’s the most crucial step because I only know what I’m painting until the piece is sewn and stretched. I will sketch out the painting though, because it can be pretty damn intimidating to paint on those weavings.
How important is spontaneity in your art?
Very. I tend to think that I’m just facilitating the conversation between materials and colors, and I let those elements tell me what to do. I’m often very surprised by how a piece ends up.
How do you choose your materials?
Everything starts with color, and that’s defined by my yarn. The initial prompt could be something like “With this warp, I’m going to find a way to like violet purple” or “What’s the weirdest color I can put next to this blue and have it all make sense?” Because color is the emphasis, I don’t vary my yarn textures too much.
How has your work developed in the past few years, and how do you see it evolving in the future?
For a long time, I kept my weaving and my painting work separate. It took about a decade for me to recently get the courage to combine the two. It’s unlocked a whole world of ideas, and I’m really making myself stay in this zone for a while and discover all it has to offer.
Have you always worked with weaving and textiles?
Back in college, I originally wanted to do Graphic Design. I had no idea that textiles were a thing you could study. When I discovered weaving, I learned that I could translate my love of flat shapes into something with a little more dimension and softness. And even though I’m a bit of a perfectionist in my art, I like a little margin of human error and wonkiness.
You have a particularly unique process for creating your artwork. What led you to this process and how did you know it was the right one to pursue?
Two roads merged: 1) I’ve always longed to find a way to combine weaving and painting. I’ve woven painted paper, and sewn painted canvas with weavings - but nothing was ever truly IT. 2) For a while, I became more known for painting murals than for my textile work and that just didn’t feel right. Weaving is my one true love. So as I finally worked up the nerve to combine the two techniques, I knew I wanted the main focus to be on the textiles.
For a long time, I kept my weaving and my painting work separate. It took about a decade for me to recently get the courage to combine the two. It’s unlocked a whole world of ideas, and I’m really making myself stay in this zone for a while and discover all it has to offer.
Sarah Sullivan Sherrod
What are some themes you find recurring in your pieces, intentional or not? What themes or motifs are you consistently drawn to?
I often don’t know what a piece is communicating until the end, but consistently I’m pretty obsessed with the importance of play. For so many people, the need for play gets suppressed, overly organized, or distorted in some way. I’m adamant that it’s a part of my life, especially in my work. I make up little challenges as I weave. I pretend it’s all a puzzle I have to assemble. Even the final piece often looks like its own funky game.
How do the different visual elements come together in your works? How does your choice of material and color inform the final piece?
When I’m weaving, the shapes and lines are informed by the loom. It feels combative to fight against the natural grid of the weave, so instead I lean into it with straight lines and sharp diagonals. Painting allows me to literally throw in some curve balls when things are feeling a little too square.
Where do you find your day-to-day inspiration?
I went through a phase of being extremely distraught that I didn’t have a more defined story to tell. But ultimately, the truest thing for me to express is color. I think our relationship with color is so deeply within us, that it’s both absolutely honest and very hard to explain why some days I think “I’m feeling especially citron yellow right now.” But maybe I’m also not feeling 100% sunny so I need to balance that brightness with a dark slate blue. Color is the most accurate way to describe my life at any given moment.
Are you influenced by any author or non-visual artist? Are you influenced by any artist that does something completely different than you?
I mean, so many all the time, but I’m especially fascinated by artists whose work is much “messier” than mine. I love art that has some sort of painterly figurative storytelling, even better if it’s kind of scribbly and strange. There’s a skillset there that I wish I had but I just can’t tap into. It’s like magic to me. Every so often I’ll try my hand at it, dislike what I made, but learn a lot in the process.
Are you formally trained? Did you go to art school?
I have a BFA in Textile Design from the University of Kansas. The Textiles department is a dreamy oasis on the top floor of the art building in the middle of a Liberal Arts campus. I loved it there.
Do you remember the first work of art that captured your attention?
In eighth grade art class, I remember finding Wassily Kandinsky’s Yellow Red Blue in a book and being blown away. I had a poster of it in my high school bedroom, and I have since seen it in person. It still blows my mind!
Is there any artwork on display in your home/studio? Whose is it?
Oh gosh, my house has so much art. I do have a lot of my own work, but I also have a rule that I can’t have two of my own pieces next to each other. Most of my collection is work I have some personal connection to - artist friends, family members, travel finds.
Is there something people would be surprised to learn about you?
I can be very clumsy, I spill on myself daily, and it’s a miracle that I don’t get paint all over my weavings (where it’s not supposed to be, I mean).
What’s next for you?
I think I’m about to go through an orange phase.
Published June 22, 2023.