Reclaiming Crafting: From Historical Domesticity to Communal Intimacy
Crafting has long been relegated to the periphery of the art world, dismissed as "women’s work" and thus considered lesser than the grander mediums of painting and sculpture. Throughout history, arts associated with domestic tasks—quilting, embroidery, needlework, ceramic painting, and sewing—were not accorded the same artistic prestige as their male-dominated counterparts. This devaluation stemmed from an aesthetic hierarchy that equated the domestic and feminine with inferiority. However, the 1960s saw a dramatic shift as Pop and feminist artists began to challenge this prejudice. The Women’s Liberation Movement spurred efforts by feminist artists to reclaim and reframe craft as a legitimate artistic means to communicate the female experience, emphasizing its political and subversive potential. In the quest for a “female aesthetic” or artistic style specific to women, many 1960s and 70s feminist artists sought to appreciate women’s craft as “high art,” moving away from its historic derogatory designation as “low art.” This revaluation of craft was part of a broader critique of the very paradigm of "high art" which, with its Eurocentric and patriarchal standards, dismissed not only craft but folk art, indigenous art, and works from non-European cultures as inferior to the creations of white European male artists.
With this movement, crafters incrementally broke onto the art world stage, evolving into what is contemporarily known as “fiber artists.” Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party installation, Miriam Schapiro's collage compositions with gendered materials, and Faith Ringgold's “story quilts”, which celebrated and revived the traditional quilt-making practices of African and African American women, all played crucial roles in this transformation. A “femmage,” as defined by Miriam Schapiro, is a feminist collage that pays tribute to female textile artists. Anonymous was a Woman features roughly cut squares of lace, cotton, and mesh set against acrylic paint, evoking the patches of a quilt. In the late 1960s, Schapiro departed from a successful career in abstract painting to explore the domain of “craft.” By reappropriating the term “craft,” her collages elevated the everyday creativity of women, positioning it within the respected space of the museum. “Decoration” was central to the aesthetic language of her femmages. At the time of their creation, labeling a work of art as “decorative” often served to dismiss it as minor or subordinate, suggesting it indulged in trivial embellishment rather than engaging in the intellectually or culturally significant. Schapiro’s conception of her femmages critically addressed this notion, recognizing that the pejorative connotations of “decoration” as rooted in Western art history’s feminization and devaluation of color, ornament, and other surface effects. These elements were traditionally deemed emotional, seductive, and superficial—traits negatively associated with the female body, which itself was marginalized as a decorative object due to entrenched attitudes that dismissed women’s creative and intellectual capacities as secondary to male-defined standards of art and reason.
Tar Beach #2 is one of Ringgold’s "story quilts," a genre she pioneered in the early 1980s. These quilts narrate the experiences, history, and identity of African Americans, with a particular focus on her Harlem community. Historically, quilting was primarily a domestic task undertaken by women, providing both warmth for families and a reflection of household economy through the use of repurposed fabrics. Beyond its practical function, quilting was also a social ritual, fostering communal ties among women as they exchanged ideas and preserved the legacies of their families, communities, and cultures. This practice held great significance within Black communities, particularly for enslaved women before the Civil war. In an era when their literacy and other forms of self-expression were systematically restricted, quilting became a vital means of asserting agency and identity. Through her art, Ringgold embraced and honored the legacy of female African American craftsmanship, drawing upon the traditions upheld by her mother and grandmother, and in doing so, expanded the boundaries of what is considered fine art.
These artists harnessed traditional craft techniques in their pieces to challenge and work to dismantle the patriarchal structures that had long marginalized them. The recognition of their art was part of a broader shift in the art world’s perception of traditionally undervalued forms. The increasing acknowledgment of women’s art, especially feminist and female-centered craft, facilitated a parallel rise in the visibility of queer art. While both feminist and queer art always existed and evolved in tandem, the growing appreciation for feminine art began to shift the criteria for valuing art, thereby creating a receptive environment for queer contributions to and reinterpretations of art and crafting.
While crafting was being elevated in feminist circles, it simultaneously took on a new dimension within the queer community. Crafting arose out of necessity for many queer individuals—such as drag performers, butch lesbians, and transgender people—who needed to make their own clothes, significantly tailor garments, and invent body-altering modifications to express themselves authentically. As such, crafting within the queer community mirrored that of women historically in its pursuit of utility within private or informal settings. However, just as American women found creative expression and conversation (often dismissively termed “gossip”) in the quilting bee–a social custom memorialized in a celebrated work by Grandma Moses–queer folks long discovered a venue for connection through their practical creations. Crafting evolved from a symbol of domesticity to a form of communal intimacy, uniting individuals through handiwork that celebrated their identities.
Crafting began as, and is often still, a necessity for queer people, yet it also serves as an empowering act in and of itself. Craft’s historic position as “other” to fine art intersects and resonates with diverse gender identities and sexualities, offering queer people a practice that both mirrors their community’s marginalized experiences and brings folks together, whether to knit, sew, crochet, embroider, or weave. Today queer crafting manifests in varied ways, from informal gatherings of friends working on crochet projects to organized meetups facilitated through Instagram groups or college clubs. These spaces collectively honor a rich legacy of creativity and community that began with the forebearers of craft who first wove art into domestic life, continued through the feminist movement that challenged its constraints, and now thrives in the hands of queer individuals who reclaim it as a means of self-expression and unity.
— Intern Violet