Culture and Community
Caravan
22” h x 32” w
silk broadcloth, rayon, silk habotai, vintage commercial cottons, thickened dye application, textile paint through Thermofax screens, fusing
—
Please come see my new work, Caravan: La Bestia, which has been selected in the de Young Open 2023, the museum’s second triennial of its juried community art exhibition. This special exhibition will feature works by artists from nine Bay Area counties, and will be presented “salon style.”
de Young Open 2023
September 23, 2023 - January 7, 2024
More exhibition information is available here.
Waves of Migration
50” h x 36” w
cotton sateen, silk organza, rayon, batik, hand dyeing, fusing
—
I was inspired by an animation depicting settlers to Spain over the millennia, viewed at the Archeological Museum of Madrid. The shelter and arc shapes in this piece represent settlements in each wave of migration. Every land, including ours, is changed and genetically enriched by those who are new and make a place for themselves. They shape our history. My own ancestors immigrated to new lands. They were changed as they made changes in their new home.
Tree of Life
43” h x 30” w
silk shantung, vintage textured cotton; batik, thickened dyes and textile paint printed though silk screens; fusing
—
In August 2018, inspired by Cypriot clay tomb figures that I had seen in a museum in Stockholm, I knew I wanted to represent an intact community structure — but whose?
In September, as I dyed my mother’s white vintage cloth, and printed the figures, their intensity and darkness saddened me to look at them. Who were they?
In October, I brought out the printed cloth to form it into an “art piece.” Just then, I heard about the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg, PA. At that moment, the mournful sadness of the figures made sense. This would be my way to honor the eleven who had been murdered, to honor those who survived and will go on.
These dark, universal figures are my homage to those who died in the gun massacre at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, PA. The figures in pink and gold silk are meant to represent those people of many faiths who came to support and mourn with the Jewish community.
Broken Promises: Los Colores
34” h x 35” w
silk shantung; vintage cotton eyelash fabric for the rectangles that outline the animals; Mexican embroidered animals on cotton called bordados
—
In June, 2018, families trying to cross our Mexico/US border were separated by new immigration instructions. Children were sent throughout the United States away from their parents with little information given. Some, even, became “undocumented” within the system: lost.
The piece is purposely split into two.
At first glance, the bright colors hide the somber subject of lost childhoods encased in cages. Or the bright colors can represent the resilience of these children. Can they hold onto their dreams of a better future despite their challenges?
Throughout our planet, we have perilous, welcome, and unwelcome global journeys precipitated by environmental and human crises.
Broken Promises: Los Colores
Some say that los colores are too gay
Fuchsia, turquoise, white
Embroideries of childhood hope
They don’t convey
The dangers of the environment
The gravity of leaving home
They don’t convey the thirst of the journey
The bruises, the physical insults at each
Step along the way
At last, it looms ahead
Rigid, dark, impenetrable
The Border Wall: La Frontera
Promises of a better life
A place of safety
Stories heard and witnessed
Asylum: a humanitarian agreement
Meant to nurture families
As they present themselves and their children
The gates thunder closed,
Prison walls deliberately formed
Separation of parents and children
Cries of Protest, cries of Sorrow
Cries of Silence…
Ah, may los colores provide the children warmth and resilience!
—Ileana Soto, 2019, revised 2023
Silk Road
51” h x 37” w
hand dyed background silk; textile paint through Thermofax screens; soy wax dye pressed through stencils along the borders; fused vintage collage elements; gold leaf
—
The Silk Road brought together East and West civilizations. It reached China through India, Persia, Europe, Africa, to the Americas. This piece contains silks from 19th century American log cabin blocks. We still depend on global cross-fertilization. It endures despite war, climate displacement and cultural misunderstanding. Today, COVID-19 has spread throughout our earth. How will we lead ourselves through this time?
Gathering
21.25” h x 59.5” w
cotton sateen with habitat silk fused elements; thickened dye printed though Thermofax and silk screens, fusing
—
This piece represents the importance that community interactions play in the solution to our local, regional, and global problems.
The narrative for Gathering will be formed by the viewer. Who is gathering and where? What issue will they discuss? How will they proceed? Are those storm clouds on the horizon?
Chancay II
53” h x 40” w
silk broadcloth, cotton lawn fused to silk; 1/8” wool felt backing; cotton crochet pieces by my grandmother, Paraschiva Roman, hand-dyed for this piece; thickened dye and textile paint printed though Thermofax screens; fused silk, crocheted pieces hand-stitched and fused to top
—
This piece was inspired by my Romanian grandmother’s artistry, my Peruvian heritage, and by the textiles of the pre-Incan Chancay culture (1000-1470 AD). They specialized in knowing the “essence” of a thing through sophisticated threadworm patterns called “gauzes.” When pulled taut, their patterns can be seen; when released, the patterns are hidden to the ordinary person.
I wondered: how could I show the complexity of a culture through paint, dye, and texture on cloth? For myself, as I develop my own layers of complexity, will that help me to become more clear, and direct?
Rebirth
37” h x 34” w
raw silk and cotton sateen; thickened dye through screens; textile metallic paint; fusing. Machine stitched by Angie Woolman
—
At Italica, a Roman ruin outside of Seville, Spain, archaeologists reassemble floor tile mosaics in the open air. The centuries-long journey from past decay to restoration is hopeful. In the context of the world’s current conflicts, a city footprint is changed not by time and nature, but by deliberate warfare. With time and opportunity, rubble is cleared, cities are rebuilt. The cost in human lives is tremendous.
