LEWIS KNAUSS

An introduction to textile techniques as an undergraduate at Kutztown State College (Kutztown University) ignited my passion for fiber materials and processes. My early work while a Graduate Student at Tyler School of Art was spare, architectural and mathematical. The theme that has dominated my work found me during my first teaching appointment. Alone, away from “home” in the unfamiliar geography of Ohio, I was suddenly struck with nostalgia for the fields and forests of Macungie, Pennsylvania, where I was born. Increasingly conscious of how we create feelings of comfort from familiar places, the textile medium became my vehicle for expressing ideas about the importance of landscape.

I initially created pieces that functioned in series as a visual “diary” of a particular place, and often entailed a year of observation tracking seasonal change. My subject was often specific to Macungie, exploring the simple graphics of plowed fields or memories of the mountainside near my parents’ home as sources for imagery. These works were often crafted from the regional farm materials familiar from my childhood.

Chance and circumstance have always impacted the evolution of my work. An impulsive trip to Egypt and Israel in the late 70s, introduced me to painted details on adobe structures. This led to new compositions in which I initiated my now standard practice of painting on individual fiber strands. Invited to teach a workshop in Colorado, I first encountered the panoramic vistas of the Southwest, and meditation practices. My need to resituate myself in a vast new environment required attention to small details; I observed “events” otherwise ignored—the blooming of a single flower in a large meadow.

Seeking solace after my parents died, I returned to New Mexico. I became a student of the escalating incidents of drought that threaten the West, weakening the ability of trees to withstand stress and increasing the likelihood of fire. Fire can scar the landscape dramatically and cause erosion once rain arrives—a cycle that itself effects a magical renewal from long-dormant seeds.

As my subjects extend to new places, I expand my language of materials, varied to create a textural impression or equivalent of each environment, often specific to time and season. My commitment to craft, informed by ongoing research into its traditions and ethnographies, remains fundamental to my processes.