In this week’s post, Costume Society Ambassador Francine McMahon reviews Material Power: Palestinian Embroidery, currently on display at The Whitworth, Manchester.
Following its display at Cambridge gallery Kettle’s Yard, Material Power: Palestinian Embroidery opened at The Whitworth in Manchester on November 24th. It features garments and objects both from the Whitworth’s own collection, but also on loan from collections in Jordan, Jerusalem, and the West Bank, on display in the UK for the first time. The Whitworth is an apt choice of home for the exhibition in its northern edition; the gallery has an extensive and internationally significant textile collection, spanning nearly twenty centuries of objects.
Material Power was curated by Rachel Deadman, the Curator of Contemporary Art from the Middle East at the V&A. Having previously curated exhibitions on Palestinian embroidery for the Palestinian Museum, Material Power reworks and combines these, the end product of which being a thoughtful, emotive, and beautiful exploration of the place of embroidery within Palestinian culture. Notably, the research, fieldwork and earlier exhibitions that provided the foundations to this exhibition took place prior to the recent escalation of conflict in Gaza, and as such many of the themes explored have taken on an additional poignance in light of this.
The exhibition covers its overarching themes across three rooms. The first of these covers the history of embroidery in Palestine, giving background to the techniques, regional differences, and significance within the lives and life events of Palestinians. On entering, the first two objects on display are traditional early 20thcentury female dresses. These provide a perfect starting point to the exhibition; interpretation demonstrates the link between features of the dress and features of lifestyle. This sets the scene for how embedded embroidery is in Palestinian life, which is a thread that runs through each room. A central podium displays examples of garments from different regions of Palestine, each with their own distinctive use of embroidery colours, motifs, and garment shapes. These distinctive regional styles demonstrate the relationship between both personal identity and community with embroidery in Palestinian culture, with communities developing these shared styles and in turn regional pride, and in the same way representing their region when travelling across the country. Despite the obvious differences in aesthetics, in each example the precision and detail of the embroidery is incredible, demonstrating the real craft involved. It is unsurprising, having seen these examples, to find out that children would start learning to embroider as young as six, with young women later embroidering their own wedding dresses.
Alongside the garments on display, each room includes videos of interviews conducted by Maeve Brennan. These interviews all come from a wider project, The Embroiderers (2016), in which Brennan interviewed five embroiderers in their homes in Palestine, Lebanon and Jordan. These interviews enhance the understanding that embroidery seems almost to come naturally to Palestinians and is a core part of their society, as well as emphasising the human connection; in this room, clips from the interviews show the embroiderers detailing the importance of embroidery to them, how they learned from their mothers, and how it connects them and their families to Palestine.
The second room of the exhibition explores the political significance of embroidery in Palestine after the Nabka and following occupation of Palestine by Israel, from 1948 to the present day. Both symbolically and practically embroidery changed from this point; exile of Palestinians from their homes led to loss of suppliers and materials, while as a result of others being forced to live in refugee camps regional variations in embroidery faded. This room contains examples of oppression and protest in thread, and in turn the power of embroidery. While it is historically predominantly a female-oriented craft, examples of embroidery produced by men while held in prison are displayed alongside one of Brennan’s interviews. The embroiderer explains that men, such as her own son, were at first allowed to embroider to stay occupied in prison, but the materials were later denied to them. This demonstrates the link between material culture and oppression, and how the loss of culturally significant crafts can be utilised as a weapon.
Other objects on display include more contemporary displays of Palestinian pride such as the work Hide Geographies by Khalil Rabah, a series of maps made from patchworks of Palestinian embroidery. The four maps represent Palestine, Gaza, a part of the West Bank which is almost entirely off limits to Palestinians, and the Vila Nova Palestine camp in Brazil that homes activists and those who would otherwise be homeless. A second contemporary work, a set of embroideries depicting the artist Aya Haidar’s mother’s experience of living under conflict in Lebanon, emphasises the emotive power of embroidery. In this case the overarching ideas conveyed across the exhibition as a whole feel strongly encapsulated, continuing the traditional craft but using it to convey personal and shared histories.
These contemporary works sit next to dresses from 1987 onwards, that demonstrate activism in embroidery. These ‘Intifada dresses’ show the use of embroidery as a form of resistance, following the confiscation of Palestinian flags in protest and the public ban on Palestinian colours. The dresses on display feature traditional motifs, national colours, significant religious sites and the Palestinian flag. As such, they are a clear demonstration of the centrality of embroidery to Palestinian culture, that it is used as a tool not only to represent identity, aging, celebration, or skill in everyday life, but that it is also turned to as one of the first calling points for activism. The overarching sense of the emotional ties between Palestinians and embroidery is clear, and poignant. Particularly memorable within this set of garments is a child’s dress, embroidered with Palestinian flags and colours. Given the high death toll of Palestinian children in the ongoing conflict, witnessed especially within the recent months’ escalation, this is starkly moving. Non-textile works alongside this demonstrate the use of international exhibitions of Palestinian crafts; posters advertising these fairs show the use of exhibiting traditional crafts as a form of ‘soft diplomacy’.
The third and final room of the exhibition brings us into the contemporary use of embroidery, and the social and political issues around it. Demonstrations of contemporary Palestinian garments are accompanied by interpretation that tells of the difficulties embroiderers are facing in the modern marketplace, with the overflow of embroidery-producing organisations meaning the initial financial freedom women were able to acquire from their skill is now dwindling. As such, the exhibition shows how embroiders face loss to their craft both as a direct and indirect result of the longstanding conflict.
Again, we are drawn to think of the human impact of conflict, particularly on children, through the combination of a speaker playing Palestinian children singing, and a long film of Maeve Brennan’s interviews projected on one wall. This was a highly emotional way to end my experience within the exhibition. Interviewees discuss embroidery’s ability to make them ‘feel as though [they are] actually in Palestine’, that ‘among all the things Palestine has lost we are also losing our material culture’ and how they are ‘unable to fight with a rifle so I will fight with a needle’. It is unarguable that embroidery is part of the very DNA of Palestinian culture and people, the loss of both feeling more painful having connected with them so strongly through their craft through the previous rooms of the exhibition.
Leaving the exhibition, it is impossible to not be haunted by the story of Palestine as represented in their material culture. From the joys of embroidering their own wedding dresses, to the horrors of representing protest against occupation and oppression in fabric, it is impossible to not feel connected to and pained by the struggle of Palestinian people having interacted so closely with a core part of their culture. Material Power does well to foster this human connection between people and objects, doing an incredible service to representing the vibrance and rich history of a nation facing extreme destruction.
Material Power: Palestinian Embroidery is on display at The Whitworth until April 7th 2024, and is free to enter.
