Marie Villemin
I have a long-standing interest in hidden, everyday arts—kin to arte povera—that hover at the boundary between art and craft. Long relegated to the domestic sphere as "women’s folklore," quilts are now reclaiming their rightful place within the lineage of textile art, driven by their rich historical and aesthetic depth.
I hold a deep admiration for the visionary work of artists like Yto Barrada, Sanford Biggers, Rosie Lee Tompkins, and the Quilters of Gee's Bend, who transformed patchwork and natural dyeing into distinct, powerful artistic languages.
After spending several years working in contemporary art centers alongside inspiring artists, a lifelong affinity for the natural world led me to settle in a countryside farmhouse a decade ago, where I trained in herbalism. This intersection of interests prompted a friend to invite me to collaborate on a project centered on dyer’s plants. Then a novice, I became spellbound by the alchemy of botanical colors, soon shifting from raw experimentation to composing textile works and geometric forms.
My quilts distill the subtle sensory impressions of living in close dialogue with nature. Through prolonged immersion, I noticed that our sensing of the living environment occurs long before the eye even focuses. It is this fleeting recognition–the presence of a plant or animal identity–that I invoke through color assemblies and patterns. Navigating the fragile chemistry of natural dyes (water quality, fleeting pigments, weather) means intentionally yielding control to the medium, the elements, and their unexpected turns.
To me, a handcrafted quilt represents deep time—both in its making and its enduring presence—a practice of care, and an antidote to the rush of the world.