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 eighth Q&A roundup features Elham Shafei, Laura Marsh, Macarena Zilveti, Marsha Borden, Meghan Udell, and Toni Thomas.
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?
Elham Shafei: Yes, this is my first time participating in the Women Pulling at the Threads of Social Discourse exhibition series, and I felt a strong resonance with both the theme and the medium.
Laura Marsh: This is my third time participating, and each experience deepens my commitment to addressing social concerns through fiber. I believe that working in this medium fosters connection in slow, deliberate, and patient ways, allowing space for reflection and dialogue. Fiber carries histories of care, labor, and community, and I see it as a powerful way to promote diversity by bringing people together through shared textures, stories, and practices.
Macarena Zilveti: This is my first time being in the Women Pulling at the Threads of Social Discourse exhibition series. I saw the earlier exhibits and wanted to be a part of this one.
Marsha Borden: While I’ve followed the Women Pulling at The Threads of Social Discourse exhibition series for a number of years, this is my first time to be included as an exhibiting artist. Because I mostly work with fiber as my medium, and because I’m interested in how society scrutinizes and controls women and their bodies, I’ve closely inspected Social Discourse exhibits each year to see how visual artists respond to each yearly prompt (especially Connecticut-Based artists Alan Neider, Rita Valley, Margaret Roelke and Molly Gambardella). I’ve particularly enjoyed the last three editions because of the connections to classic literature/texts and the artists’ application and interpretation of their work to our modern world.
Meghan Udell: The theme struck a chord because, regrettably, we seem to be living in a political déjà vu—history’s most absurd chapters playing on repeat. Across time, so many authors and artists have created powerful work against the backdrop of the most absurd aspects of political instability.
Toni Thomas: No.
Each edition of this fiber series asks artists to respond to particular literary classics, who did you select for this year and why?
ES: Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis (1915). I chose Forough Farrokhzad’s poem because I deeply connect to its call for women to rise against silence and oppression. Unlike Kafka’s Metamorphosis, which reflects resignation to dehumanization, her poem inspires resistance and hope. My use of stitching and feathers symbolizes this quiet yet transformative act of breaking free.
LM: I chose Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis because I was struck by the conflicted role of Grete, the sister. Her position as a young caretaker resonated with me—at first, she was dutiful and nurturing, even bringing Gregor a variety of food to accommodate his strange new condition. Yet as she matured and took on work of her own, her initial patience gave way to fatigue, resignation, and ultimately resentment. Her declaration that the insect was no longer her brother is devastating in its bluntness. Grete’s arc embodies the complexity of care: the selflessness it demands, the invisible labor it entails, and the point at which compassion erodes under the weight of social and personal pressures. I was drawn to this character because her transformation is as profound as Gregor’s—hers is a metamorphosis of responsibility, agency, and detachment. Through her, the story exposes the fragile bonds of family and the painful reality of how relationships can shift when care becomes a burden.
MZ: I selected Kafka's The Metamorphosis. It ties in perfectly with the title of the exhibit, and it allowed me to have a lot of creative freedom.
MB: For this year’s edition, I was intrigued by the request to consider literary texts on the topic of Absurdism. I read many of the recommended authors (including Kafka, Saramago, Beckett, and Camus) get a feel for Absurdism as a philosophical theory throughout the 20th century. I selected Jose Saramago’s Blindness and Albert Camus’ The Stranger because I was captivated by the significant loss of bodily autonomy experienced by the characters in each text, which was in each case followed by an exhilaration that allowed for new beginnings.
MU: I chose Kafka’s The Metamorphosis because his work captures the surreal disorientation of existing within rigid—and often absurd—systems. The Metamorphosis speaks to alienation, identity, and the body as both a vulnerable and resistant space, themes that intersect with my practice.
TT: Franz Kafka's book Metamorphosis. I liked the altered reality he wrote about within a realistic context.
What do you feel about the shape constraint?
ES: I see the shape constraint as part of the work’s meaning, much like stitching, it reflects how boundaries can be transformed into quiet yet powerful acts of resistance and self-expression.
LM: While I appreciate the challenge of working within a shape constraint, I sometimes find assignments for artists to feel unusual outside of educational contexts. Still, I approached this as an opportunity to be
part of the larger collective.
MZ: Although it is a constraint, it also helped me focus on the piece and bring all of the pieces together within the encompassing circle.
MB: Being asked to create a circular work fit right into my artistic aesthetic! I often design works that involve circles. I like the fact that with circles, there is no beginning and no ending, and also the idea that you just keep going and going and going.
MU: The circle ended up working perfectly with my idea of transitional rings—moving from the outer edge of promise and vitality into the inner ring of entrapment. It’s a visual progression that echoes The Metamorphosis, where early possibility slowly folds in on itself until it becomes confinement.
TT: It was a challenge to work within a circular format. It is not easy to get a perfect circle and being a perfectionist I had to resolve myself to work with the constraints I had when I started my piece. I had limited workspace and I didn't have all the tools I needed to work when I started my piece but that was mostly my fault because I didn't get motivated until close to the deadline.
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?
ES: I reflect on myself while working, and the act of stitching becomes very meditative. It allows me to connect with the active silence of my studio and the sense of self-isolation that shapes the process.
LM: When I’m working, my thoughts move between very immediate, tactile concerns—like tension, rhythm, and repetition—and broader reflections on care, labor, and time. The slowness of my process is important; it allows space for patience and for thoughts to unfold gradually, almost like a form of meditation. I often think about how each stitch or gesture connects to histories of domestic work and invisible labor, and how these accumulated actions build toward something larger than themselves. In this way, the process affects me as much as the finished piece does—it’s a way of grounding, reflecting, and engaging with questions of resilience and connection.
MZ: "How can I make my message stand out as much as possible?" Are these materials/colors the correct ones? What if I blend them?
MB: Working on my piece has been an oasis. I’m experiencing many disruptions and changes in my life right now; carving out studio time to work on this absurdist piece is my safe space. As I work, I try to think about nothing but the feeling of each texture in my hands – paper, yarn, fabric – and the strength in my fingers as I coil, weave, stitch, and shape the work.
MU: There’s a meditative quality to embroidery, and in this piece the process feels almost ceremonial—fitting for work inspired by the Slovak kútna plachta, a cloth rooted in ritual, protection, and transition. The repetition gives me time to consider how something aesthetically pleasing, protection, and confinement can coexist in a single object—and how that same contradiction still shapes the way we value, or fail to value, women’s autonomy.
TT: What was on my mind while working on my piece was how was I going to best interpret the metamorphosis I wanted to illustrate. At first I thought the shape of the piece would be a challenge, but it became an asset. I could rotate the piece and it would still be relevant. The content would still reflect the intended interpretation. The other thing was what material would I use to create my butterflies. My
inspiration piece was a work on paper with collaged papers taking on the shape of butterflies in a somewhat abstract interpretation. The question was would I use fabric or paper. Since the paper I was using had the color and texture I wanted I decided to use the paper because it was made from cotton and other fibers and I could work with it on the recycled denim background as I had done with my original works on paper piece.
What inspires you?
ES: I draw inspiration from my life and experiences in this world. My thoughts and feelings as a human being are what shape and inform my work.
LM: I’m inspired by the resilience found in everyday acts of care and repair. I draw from literature, history, and lived experience—especially the ways people adapt under pressure, create community, and find beauty in imperfection.
MZ: Creating something I've never done before and learning in the process inspires me.
MB: I make art to make meaning. I’m interested in thought, thinking, and the ideas behind a piece of visual art. I am inspired by great thinking and great pieces of art, including those made by people no one has ever heard of before.
MU: I’m inspired by women who weaponize the supposed invisibility of domestic work and traditional crafts— transforming them into acts of quiet rebellion. There’s power in taking what has been dismissed as ordinary, decorative, or “women’s work” and using it to question, subvert, and disrupt the structures that undervalue it.
TT: For this piece I was inspired by illusion, transformation and my medium fabric. My aim was to manipulate the materials into an imagery that reflected my sentiment about metamorphosis. I approach fiber arts the way I would composing a painting working with fabric as I would a pallette of paints. The techniques I use from basic stitching to more specific stitching techniques like sashiko or chiku chiku are like the brushes I would use to complete my painting.
Can you let us know about three fiber artists who have helped shape your work?
ES: Rosalind Wyatt, Ekta Kaul, Mounira Al Solh. I admire Wyatt’s intricate stitching and use of text, Kaul’s delicate yet expressive textile forms, and Al Solh’s poetic engagement with memory and identity. Each of them has inspired me to explore materiality, narrative, and personal expression in my own practice.
LM: Three fiber artists who have shaped my work are Olga de Amaral, Faith Ringgold, and Magdalena Abakanowicz. Olga de Amaral’s luminous woven surfaces, often layered with gold and natural fibers, have inspired me to think about fiber as a medium that bridges craft, painting, and sculpture. Faith Ringgold’s story quilts demonstrated how textiles can carry powerful narratives about identity, culture, and justice, weaving personal and political together seamlessly. Magdalena Abakanowicz’s sculptural environments showed me how fiber can transcend the domestic and become immersive, bodily, and architectural. Each of these artists, in very different ways, has expanded my understanding of what fiber can hold—memory, resilience, protest, and connection.
MZ: Bisa Butler, Silvia Heyden and Olga de Amaral
MB: I love making three-dimensional shapes with stitch. Ruth Asawa’s astonishing metal sculpture works inspire me to explore dimensionality with unconventional materials. Louise Bourgeois’ monumental work encourages me to think big! Also, many of the themes behind her artwork – abandonment, family, home, mortality – resonate with me. I do not quilt, but I’ve spent hours poring over the work of the Gees Bend Quilting Collective. The distinctive works of these quilter-artists inspire me to think about color, shape, and directionality.
MU: Shelia Hicks, Lizzy Collins, Lucy Sparrow.
TT: Faith Ringgold was a painter, she died last year but she worked with textiles and quilting. She also painted and wrote stories on her quilts. Her work inspired me to make quilted paintings as well, and explore working with fabric as a medium and to incorporate text in my work. Nancy Crow for her colorful quilt compositions and design, Chawne Kimber, for her expressive use of textiles and text in her quilting arts and The Gees Bend quilters of Gees Bend, Alabama, for creating some of the most exciting art of the later 20th century from just plain necessity. They used worn clothing, and fabric and transformed them into functional utilitarian objects that turned out to be the most interesting and exciting, contemporary art created in the last century.