Rachael Matthews
Katy Bevan reflects on the work of Rachael Matthews, a textile artist who is rethinking knitting for the rest of us
DID YOU hear about a group of knitters who knitted their way around the Circle Line on the London Underground, or the one about the knitters being thrown out of the Savoy? Then you’ve already heard of Rachael Matthews. At the helm of the Cast Off Club for Girls and Boys, Rachael was the instigator of all that knitting in public, reclaiming public spaces.
Back before blogs were a thing, I read a piece by Betsy Greer, then studying at Goldsmiths, which mentioned Rachael and Cast Off. I finally made contact with the artist herself and, on behalf of the publisher I was working for at the time, commissioned her to write a book, Knitorama, and later on Hookorama. Rachael turned the whole book-making process into a collaborative event, bringing in contributions from contacts and friends, many of them successful artists in their own right - it was a lot of fun.
So when Rachael set up shop with Prick Your Finger in London, I wasn’t surprised to find more people being involved and encouraged - from the interns nurtured behind the counter, to the artists given their first exhibition in the window. Strict ethical principles meant all the yarns were from the UK, some hand-spun and hand-dyed; among the skeins was some Herdwick from Cumbria, where Rachael grew up. “I have learned enough about the wool to see myself as a small part of the supply chain, working the fibre from sheep to shoulder,” she says.
Everything Rachael does is unconventional - when my invitation came for the shop’s opening, it contained a needle and thread so I really did prick my finger. Although her process may seem anarchic, there is a tough-as-Herdwick thread of integrity through everything she does.
During the shop years there were plenty of projects with co-conspirator Louize Harries, including musical spinning performances, an Analogue Amnesty, where tape was spun with other woollens to created hybrid fibres that might reflect the character of the music or film – Rastafarian colours for a reggae tape, cotton for a copy of the movie Ghandi. Then there was the Knitted Wedding at the Pump House Gallery; and Louder Than Bombs, an exhibition at the Stanley Picker Gallery. This reinvented the wool manufacturing process to illustrate the perils of the industry, and as a way of measuring the value of what we do and encouraging us to think about the value of craft.
Rachael’s generous and inclusive way of being is perfect to bring insight to the subject of mindfulness in her latest book, The Mindfulness of Knitting. The book combines knitting and creative meditation, concentrating on the process rather than the outcome, and is non-judgmental about the work that other people manage to create.
Her soft ‘Dry Stone Wall’ is an ongoing project that seems pertinent now, some of the stones referencing archeological finds. “I was thinking about the dry stone wall rule that you have to place a stone you pick up, finding the hole that fits, rather than looking for the perfect stone.”
I asked Rachael if she had time to knit things for herself. “I just seem to work through UFOs [unfinished objects],” she says. “I’ve also being trying to make samples of ‘bad’ knitting, repeated lots of times and it is actually really hard!” Work from students is documented and reverse engineered. “I love finding the rhythms of anxiety, or dropping of concentration, and writing the pattern for them is a bit more creative than the usual abbreviations.” Rachael is currently enjoying her new baby, but Prick Your Finger #2 is on the horizon. “It is going to offer a new focus on knitting. A place to study in the remote place we go to when we make textiles, and also the way we can make deep connections with the world and people and the environment from that remote place.” Rachael describes it as: “A knitting retreat with no internet access, no mobile phone signal, but plenty of other kinds of communication.” I can’t wait.
I AM A SMALL PART OF THE SUPPLY CHAIN, WORKING THE FIBRE FROM SHEEP TO SHOULDER