Elise Vazelakis

My wire sculptures start with the same loom weaving technique I use in my woven large-scale, wall-bound pieces. They combine the matrix base inherent in weaving, but profoundly diverge from the grid pattern once taken off the loom. I bend, twist and fold the woven pieces into freestanding forms that feel more organic. They are displayed alone or in clusters, hung from the ceiling or positioned on pedestals, which, unlike the wall-bound works, invite circumnavigation. These works have a more pronounced interplay with light and shadow, and their contorted shapes invite viewers to look through and beyond each form. 

Photo Credit: @kimberlyadamis

My earliest inroads to creativity started with fiber, beginning with my grandmother’s treadle sewing machine. With my current work, I have gone back to my roots. I use a foot-operated weaving loom, and the traditional aspects of its application connect me to my history. I create large woven pieces that resemble a tapestry or quilt, which speak to the age-old practice of storytelling. Through my chosen method and materials, I update weaving conventions into a contemporary modality that engages my own narrative.   

Although my process of loom weaving essentially follows a long-tended tradition, through an integration of metal wire and painted elements my techniques push the customary limits of weaving. By manipulating the loosely woven wiring, I construct undulating gestures and punctuated patterning, resulting in dynamic forms that subvert the static templates of weaving. In this way, the work strikes a balance between textile and sculpture that explores a juxtaposition of comfort and complexity, fortitude and fragility.

Photo Credit: @kimberlyadamis

The pieces in this series are my most personal works to date. They tell the story of my mother, whom I lost to cancer when I was six-years-old. An artist and poet, my mother was never able to complete her story, and in turn our story remained a distant memory and tale of longing.  It was not until I was an adult, having raised my own children, that I was able to read my mother’s poems, many of which she’d written when she was in the process of dying. While difficult to read, they brought great closure through an experience of a woman, my mother, that I had not had the privilege of knowing as a child. 

I have taken my mother’s photographs and poems and integrated them it into my weavings. The process has been a cherished task of completing her unfinished work, reconciling her formerly illusive identity, yet one that was so undeniably intertwined with my own. With this series, I have been able to bring peace, compassion and understanding to a formerly undefined relationship with my mother. Our conjoined story lives on through this work.

Artists have never taken a quiet stance on issues that affect our lives. We raise our individual and collective voices in outrage to encourage healing and progress. In my “Senseless” series, I directly confront the lamentable ubiquity of gun violence. 

I was forever changed when 22-year old Christiana Duarte, daughter of a close friend, was gunned down in the 2017 Las Vegas mass shooting. Christiana’s death caused a devastating rift in my life. Gun violence had forever altered the lives of people dear to me. I no longer felt as if I cold be a passive witness to its havoc. 

 “Senseless" directly confronts the insanity of gun violence. Taking cues from the traditions of weaving that incorporate vivid symbolism and direct narrative, “Senseless” incorporates AR-15 bullet shell casings accumulated from a shooting range, alongside copper wires that protrude and twist from their woven backdrop. The integration of these materials creates a visceral narrative, much like the Navajos symbolically fused their stories into textiles. The shell casings are vivid reminders of the ubiquity and confounding accessibility of guns. The copper wires that twist around them leave circular forms that are emblematic of their source material repurposed and reconfigured in gestures that reach toward resolve.