Rie Tachikawa Interview Now

By Megumi Saito, Art and Form Journal

That series was born from frustration. In Japan, we have this word "ma" (間)—the pause, the interval. I wanted to see if I could make the interval physical. I took industrial felt—something hard, used for machinery—and cut slits into it. Then I wove copper wire through the slits, pulling it tight until the felt buckled. rie tachikawa interview

(Pauses) Yes. In "Unwoven," I stopped pulling the threads tight. I let them hang. I created pieces that were literally falling apart—edges fraying, wefts gaping. My students asked, "Isn't that just damage?" I said, "No. That is honesty." By Megumi Saito, Art and Form Journal That

In this previously unpublished interview from 2018, we sat down with Tachikawa in her Atelier in Setagaya, Tokyo, to discuss how she un-wove the rules of contemporary craft. In "Unwoven," I stopped pulling the threads tight

— This interview has been edited for length and clarity from a 2018 conversation.

Also, natural fibers lie. They pretend to be warm and organic. But polyester? Polyester is honest. It says, "I am petroleum. I will last 500 years in a landfill. Deal with me." I want my work to make people uncomfortable about their environment, not comforted by it.

And remember: The most important part of a woven thing is the hole. The light that passes through. The gap. Don't fill every gap. Let the air in. Rie Tachikawa passed away in 2019, but her pieces remain in the permanent collections of the Museum of Arts and Design (New York) and the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art (Kanazawa). Her students continue her seminar on "Critical Textiles," proving that even when the thread breaks, the pattern remains.