Our 7th annual exhibition Women Pulling at the Threads of Social Discourse: Don't Be Absurd asked the 117 participating artists - more than ever before! - to reflect on Absurdist works by Beckett, Kafka, Camus, Saramago,  and de Beauvoir. Through the works created for Don't Be Absurd our artists explored how they connected, interpreted, and presented absurdity within the constraints of a circular shape and fiber art.

Our fourth Q&A roundup features CAMP artists Eileen Hoffman and Laeti Adam-Rabel, alongside artists Andrea Venero Carrasco and Valeria Salinas, Jody MacDonald, Kimberly Bentley, and Francisca Rodillo.

Is this your first time being in The Women Pulling at The Threads of Social Discourse exhibition series? If yes, what drew you in? If not, how many have you been in - and what are your thoughts over the different editions?

Eileen Hoffman: My work intertwines storytelling with textile traditions and gendered histories. I use women’s voices to challenge the structures that have long kept them in the shadows. I am especially drawn to exhibitions that address women’s issues and was excited to contribute again this year. Having also participated last year, I find it compelling to see how each year’s prompt sparks new ways of thinking about women’s liberation.

Laeti Adam-Rabel: This is my 5th year participating in the call. I have continually submitted because the themes have
always drawn me in and have given me somewhat of a challenge, allowing me to stretch my wings,
beyond my usual works.

Andrea Venero Carrasco + Valeria Salinas: Yes, this is our first time participating. What drew us in was the possibility of being part of a space composed entirely of women, where we could experiment with our textile technique and also confront a theme that feels deliberately absurd. That tension motivated us to join this edition and to test how our practice could respond to such a provocation.

Jody MacDonald: Yes, this is the first time, and I’m really excited to be participating in Women Pulling at The Threads of
Social Discourse. I was immediately drawn to the title of the open call, Don’t Be Absurd. As an artist, I
lean heavily into the concept of absurdity in my practice.

Kimberly Bentley: This is my second time. The prompts and various narratives have inspired different work from me! It's
been enjoyable in a thought-provoking way.

Francisca Rodillo: It is my first time. I came across the open call on Instagram, and I was immediately drawn to this year’s theme, as it strongly resonates with my work and with the questions that structure my artistic practice.

Each edition of this fiber series asks artists to respond to particular literary classics, who did you select for this year and why?

EH: This piece, Stitching Resistance: I Will Not Marry,  responds to Simone de Beauvoir’s All Men Are Mortal. The novel explores the tension between an immortal man’s search for meaning and a mortal woman’s seemingly trivial daily concerns. Fosca’s journey highlights that meaning is derived through engaging in the process of work itself, rather than in its completion.

My piece is inspired by the Jewish folktale The Princess and Her Beloved, a story of a princess determined to choose her own future. Pressured into marriage, she rejects all the proposed princes because they disregard the well-being of their people. Instead, she chooses a poor man who shares her values. Both stories are involved with women searching for meaning outside of the patriarchal structure. 

The repetitive qualities in my work explore themes that can relate to existentialist thought—confronting isolation, systemic oppression, and the struggle of individuals to find meaning in an overwhelming world. Like existentialist writers who expose the barren landscapes of the human condition, I engage with these realities but through a lens of hope, movement, and transformation.

LAR: This year, I chose Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis. It wasn’t even a question for me as to whether I would submit because this particular novel was one of the first I read in English, when I arrived in Miami in the 8th grade. I loved how absurd the book was back then and was happy to delve into the nostalgia of my childhood when I saw this theme. In creating this piece, however, I contemplated the book with
new eyes. Having had all the experiences I’ve had between the ages of 12 and 46 (at the time I created the piece), the theme suddenly had new, deeper meaning to me.

A+V: We responded to All Men Are Mortal by Simone de Beauvoir. The text reveals the paradox of immortality as a curse: when limits disappear, meaning disappears as well. This resonated with us because today’s world still insists on fixing what cannot be fixed — the desire to transcend, to leave a permanent mark. Our work asks instead: what is the purpose of permanence if the power lies in the instant of making, in the bonds it creates, in the process that sustains it?

JM: When I saw that Kafka’s Metamorphosis was on the literary list, I knew I had to submit. I’m attracted to how Kafka dances between the humor and horror of humanity. To inspire the text in my piece, I chose a recent translation by Susan Bernofsky. It was important to me to reference a classic that was translated by a woman.

KB: I was inspired by Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis. It resonates deeply with me as a woman living in America today; I truly grasp the weight of this book. In my work, I employ horror as a lens to explore the theme of alienation. Horror plays on the notion that we are constantly under attack by unseen forces. However, after the election in November, it has become painfully clear who these forces are. We recognize that half of America does not view women as individuals worthy of autonomy over their own bodies or the right to vote and be heard.
As America descends further into fascism and loses the respect of the international community, I continually turn to my art as a way to manage my anxiety. I genuinely believe that without the ability to express myself through art and connect with my community, I would succumb to despair. Franz speaks of anxiety as a powerful force that can help us maintain our sense of self, emphasizing that "anxiety is freedom's possibility."

FR: I selected the following thinkers because they each address nihilism from different angles: Albert Camus for his perspective on the absurd and rebellion; Franz Kafka for his exploration of alienation and the impossibility of communication; Friedrich Nietzsche, who proposed the opportunity to create new values after the fall of the divine; and Byung-Chul Han, from whom I drew the concept of contemporary solitude in the midst of hyperconnection and exhaustion.
What unites them is that they place the human being at the center of the void, without God or transcendence to provide salvation, forcing us to confront that absence directly and decide what to do with it.

What do you feel about the shape constraint?

EH: I think the shape constraint creates a uniquely cohesive exhibition. Having worked with circles in the past, I found it engaging to return to that form. It’s always fascinating to see how different artists respond to and interpret a shared shape.

LAR: The shape was actually not a constraint at all for me. Serendipitously, when I read the call, I already
knew that my piece’s structure would be that of a dream catcher, and I already had an oversized
embroidery hoop available. The shape requirement basically inspired my work.

A+V: The circular format was both a challenge and a gift. Because of the reticular weaving technique we selected, the circle demanded a new tension in the threads that actually improved the structure and balance of the piece. What at first seemed limiting became an ally, helping us refine the form we were looking for.

JM: Sometimes a size and shape constraint can be frustrating, but I personally love the challenge of working
in preset parameters, particularly for a specially proposed piece. I find it frees up my process to
concentrate on other aspects of the work such as composition, color, and texture. The circular constraint
worked perfectly for my composition.

KB: Its challenging and that's a good thing!

FR: I like it for its symbolic meaning (hope), and I also see it as a novel way of presenting our work. It became an interesting challenge for me.

At the gallery, we are always interested in knowing how the actual process of making the work affects you - please explain, if you can, what is on your mind while making your piece?

EH: I love the act of making—both the painting and the construction that go into building a piece. For this work, I created a number of small samples to explore the relationship between the white grid and the painting. That preparation allowed me to begin with a clear plan, though I always hold the evolving image in my head as I work.

My process is typically intense and immersive. I become almost obsessive, working continuously until a piece is complete. At the same time, many works need to hang on the wall for a while before I resolve all the spatial and hanging relationships.

This piece relies heavily on repetition, which I felt was essential to convey the dreariness of an existential perspective. I knew from the start that I wanted it to be a pink and white piece that also carried a narrative. I don’t plan the colors of the text in advance; instead, I make those decisions intuitively as I paint.

LAR: Making this piece was very cathartic for me, as is usually the case for me while I make art. I’ve been going through a period of immense transformation in my life, in all aspects. Some of these changes have been quite difficult to adapt to even to the point of affecting my sleep. So, as I wove this dream catcher and sculpted and sewed the central hybrid figure, it was like ushering in the changes that are coming, and ensuring I hold on to my dreams while letting go of the superfluous, due to constraints in my
living space.

A+V: The process is meditative. It is repetitive, it takes time, and it requires concentration — almost like stepping outside of the real world. At the same time, it is not solitary: it is an ongoing back-and-forth between us as collaborators. Every decision is negotiated, shared, and reimagined. So the making itself becomes a dialogue, a practice of presence, and a way of resisting the idea that the artist must always work alone.

JM: My process typically involves many details and painstaking repetition. Completion of pieces is slow and steady, with lots of time spent researching current world news, events, and species. Often, I’ll reference topical events in the layers of the finished work, which makes it a bit of a time capsule. My slow pace leaves room for amendments and additions – the result is sometimes quite different than
the originally planned sketch. For my How To Be series, I first draft the text snippets and then move on to the visual composition. The text contained in How To Be A Cockroach combines direct references to Kafka’s Metamorphosis, biological facts about the American Cockroach species, and satirical jabs at the state of current politics. 

KB: In light of the political climate we’ve endured since 2016, creating work like this feels deeply cathartic. It serves as both an expression and a release, allowing us to navigate the complexities of our emotions and experiences during these tumultuous times.

FR: I firmly believe that the process itself, together with the materials and the environment, gradually shapes the original idea until the theoretical and the material converge into form. As artists, we are the channel through which ideas take material shape, and that channel is inevitably filtered by our personal experiences. In my case, those experiences make every decision I take profoundly personal and, at the same time, political.

What inspires you?

EH: I have always felt that I had something to say about my upbringing and its relationship to women’s issues. The challenges that women continue to face inspire me to contribute to the dialogue. I am also moved by the stories we were told as young women and how they continue to shape our perspectives.

Visually, I draw inspiration from many sources. My mind is always alive with images and stories waiting to be expressed, often faster than I can bring them into being. I like to surround myself with art and patterns—I have always loved textiles and designs from many cultures.

LAR: Life inspires me. But more specifically, my innermost emotions inspire me. I tend to respond to occurrences that affect me, whether personally, relationally, politically, and financially, through my work. Most of these changes time, it is a rather subconscious response.

A+V: We are inspired by the tension between permanence and impermanence, by the political potential of the ephemeral, and by collaborative practices that privilege dialogue over authorship. Our immediate environment also plays a crucial role: the way textures, geographies, and contexts imprint themselves on our practice makes the textile feel like a map of the territory we inhabit. On a more personal level, we draw inspiration from everyday rhythms, from repetition as a form of resistance.

JM: Personally, I’m inspired by other’s creativity, be it visual, dance, music, theatre, text, and everything in between. It can be celebratory, critical, beautiful, repulsive. I’m here for all of it. I love being prompted to think about something differently, or to look at something through the eyes and mind of another human.

My artwork is inspired by the human condition and all the absurdity that comes with it. I’m driven by different things at different times. Sometimes I’m inspired to create out of grief for tragedies. At other times, I’m inspired by the comedic connection between two or more disparate subjects.

Currently, I’m inspired by the natural world, in particular resilient species who have adapted to not only surviving but thriving in harsh climates, political and otherwise ;-)

KB: I find inspiration in artwork that provokes deep thought and meaning. While horror has always influenced me, 1970s cartoons significantly impact the work I create.

FR: I am inspired by animal behavior (which of course includes human beings), by fear, by the ways we communicate and socialize, and by the social norms we invent. My studies in psychology have a strong influence on my work, especially Jungian thought, where I draw on symbolism and archetypes to articulate my questions and possible answers.

Can you let us know about three fiber artists who have helped shape your work?

EH: I stand on the shoulders of prominent textile artists and designers of the 1960s, including Anni Albers, Sheila Hicks, Claire Zeisler, Lenore Tawney, and Magdalena Abakanowicz. These trailblazers helped transform textiles from a functional craft into a recognized form of contemporary fine art. I also drew early inspiration from artists such as Eva Hesse and Martha Graham—women deeply committed to their vision, who conveyed powerful messages and used their art as a means of expression. Their dedication not only captivated me but also shaped my understanding of what women artists can achieve and how we can use our work to influence change.

LAR: Faith Ringold, Aurora Molina, and Kathrin Marchenko.

A+V: First, we look historically to the Chancay textile tradition from our own country, particularly the reticular weaving technique of knots and meshes, which we have had to reinterpret and adapt. This ancestral practice continues to guide us as a living reference. Second, Ana Teresa Barbosa’s work has been fundamental: her exploration of technique and material shows us the vast possibilities of textile as a medium for dialogue.

JM: I feel a strong connection to Louise Bourgeois, who used her cast-off clothing to create many of her artworks over the years. I’m a long-time shopper of recycled clothing and use items until they fall apart. Once an item is unrepairable, it goes into my fabric collection to be repurposed in my textile pieces. Frances Glessner Lee was not a profession textile artist, but she created exquisite miniature instructional dioramas of crime scenes that were used in the training seminars of State police – The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death. The intense care put into every tiny detail wasn’t necessary for the purpose of the dioramas, but it’s obvious that the details mattered to her: hand knit stockings from thread, tiny paintings hung on the walls, and miniature hand-stitched clothing and furnishings. I think of Lee every time I include a layer or detail that might only be seen by someone with a sharp attention to detail or by
someone who intimately handles the piece or by someone who ends up doing reconstruction work on the piece in the future. Miniature magazines must have text and images. Tiny belt buckles must function. Wee steel chains must be created to scale link by link by link out of wire. Fun fact, Lee also happened to be the first woman to join the International Association of Police Chiefs in 1942. While not a fiber artist per se, Marisol’s practice was positioned as “craft” by many of her contemporaries and early critics. Many of her mixed media artworks are composed of figures that feature her own face, whether it be painted, drawn, cast, carved, or all of the above. Marisol’s playful use of found objects and
carved wood harness the magic of illusion and the power of suggestion. The subtext in her work is cheeky and political. She has perhaps had the most influence on my practice and the way that I work.

KB: Angelica Raquel, Liz Payne, and Karen Miller.

FR: 

• Violeta Parra: A Chilean artist active in the 1950s. Her works are usually embroideries on burlap, using brightly colored wool threads that combine human figures, peasant scenes, religious elements, animals, political symbols, and autobiographical motifs. Her style is naïve, direct, and free of academic constraints, which gave her absolute freedom in composition.
• Anna Torma: Hungarian-born and based in New Brunswick, she translates contemporary content through traditional hand embroidery, which she considers her “mother tongue,” having learned to sew and embroider as a child from her mother and grandmothers. She works on a large scale, creating wall hangings that are rooted in heritage while also relating to painting and drawing. She was the first artist who inspired me to create textile art. I discovered her work in a book on textile artists, and I was captivated by the playful, almost childlike way she expresses her world, as well as her powerful use of color.
• Coulter Fussell: Born in 1977 in Columbus, Georgia, she is a visual artist who lives and works in Water Valley, Mississippi. Her practice spans quilting, upholstery, and mixed-media works that intersect photography and sculpture. I am particularly drawn to the aesthetic of her work and the way she transforms the format of the traditional quilt into a contemporary one.