Jun 18

Jun 18 Carol Shaw-Sutton

I am sitting with Carol Shaw-Sutton in her backyard, enjoying a lovely plate of snacks and sipping mezcal, ostensibly here to have her teach me how to mend a sweater, but really, I want to dive into the mind of VORTEX's Spring cover artist. Shaw-Sutton, a renowned fiber artist, is known for her deeply intuitive works that balance strength and fragility, much like the natural materials she uses. Our conversation meanders from art dealer embezzlement scandals to the bizarre charm of David Lynch films, weaving through Shaw-Sutton's reflections on life, death, and the enduring significance of handcrafts.

THE STUDIO OF CAROL SHAW-SUTTON, PHOTO BY CYRUS SUTTON

Ruby, her beautiful red dog, snuggles beside us, adding a layer of warmth to the evening. "When I got her, she was really traumatized," Shaw-Sutton says, stroking Ruby's soft fur. "She'd been abandoned and was so sensitive. But now, she's the sweetest dog." Shaw-Sutton's stories are as rich and textured as her artwork, offering glimpses into a world where creativity and life's profound moments are intricately stitched together.

We're also sharing art books today. I brought a catalog from a Damián Ortega show in Mexico City, knowing Shaw-Sutton would appreciate his inventive use of materials like tortillas layered to create masks and circuit boards woven in the traditional Oaxacan technique. In return, she introduces me to the whimsical world of Tim Hawkinson. "It's all over the place. It's all sorts of different, wacky stuff. That's a thumb. It's made out of red pens, and it's big. It was like this big," she said, spreading her arms out wide. "He's one of my favorites." The exchange of these books sparks a spirited discussion about the endless possibilities of art and the ways it can challenge and delight the viewer.

**Tim Hawkinson**, (Index) Finger. 1997. Pens, Pencils & Polyester Resin. Collection of Ace Gallery

**Damián Ortega**, Cadenilla, (2014-2023), Handwoven textile

**Tim Hawkinson**, Wall Chart of World History from Earliest Times to the Present, detail. 1997. Ink, graphite, Collection of Ace Gallery

**Damián Ortega**, Untitled, 2021, masks made with corn tortillas, variable dimensions. Courtesy of the artist and Gladstone Gallery

Shaw-Sutton also shares her experiences teaching at Cal State Long Beach. Students came to class with a wide range of abilities. "The last year I was there, there was this student who didn't know how to glue," she chuckles. "But that's why we need arts programs in schools. People have to be able to make messes and learn." This leads to a discussion on local initiatives and mentoring programs, with Shaw-Sutton proudly describing her role in the Ojai Studio Artists scholarship committee and mentoring young artists.

OSA SCHOLARSHIP RECIPIENTS 2024, PHOTO BY CINDY PITOU BURTON

Shaw-Sutton describes the recent Ojai Studio Artists scholarship awards ceremony at Spore Space as heartwarming. "We focus on public school students who need it the most," she says. "Elizabeth (Herring) and Rosemary (Hall) were just so genuinely interested in helping and in the kids and open-hearted about the whole thing." Shaw-Sutton's commitment to supporting young artists is evident, underscoring the importance of community and opportunity in the arts.

Our conversation shifts to personal security habits. I admit to rarely locking my doors due to a phobia that developed during my time as a real estate agent in Brooklyn. "I don't like keys," I confess. "I don't lock my car. Every once in a while, stuff will disappear out of it." Shaw-Sutton shares a cautionary tale from when she was younger, recounting a break-in while she was home alone with her new baby, Cyrus. "I just went into badass mode and went outside, I was naked, chasing him and screaming."

Fuck yeah.

ON SHAW-SUTTON’S KITCHEN COUNTER SITS A PERFECT BOWL OF ARTICHOKE FLOWERS

We continue discussing Shaw-Sutton's involvement in mentoring students and the positive impact of the mentorship program. She reflects on how mentoring provides a valuable outlet for both her and the students. Our discussion turns to the influence of traditional and modern art techniques. We talk about the importance of craft in art education and lament the historical elimination of craft at universities such as California College of the Arts (CCA), which used to be CCAC (...and Crafts), a decision that seems tinged with both misogyny and racism.

Shaw-Sutton's plans to curate a show at the Ojai Valley Museum, titled “Hands, Head, Heart: Ojai Fiber,” highlighting the value of handcraft in our cultural consciousness. This exhibition serves as both a showcase and a statement, celebrating the intricate art of fiber crafts and their crucial role in our cognitive and cultural development. As Sutton continues to champion these art forms, her work underscores the enduring importance and relevance of handcrafts in our society.

The Museum will host interactive workshops, providing visitors with hands-on experience and the opportunity to learn directly from the artists. This immersive experience is designed to foster a deeper appreciation for the meticulous craftsmanship and creativity involved in fiber arts. Set to be a lively and educational event, the exhibition will introduce a fresh wave of creativity to Ojai when it opens in March 2025.

OAXCAN TEXTILE, FROM CAROL SHAW-SUTTON’S PERSONAL COLLECTION

Shaw-Sutton describes a friend and fellow OSA artist, Susan Amend, who assisted Shaw-Sutton when she broke her leg. "She went with me to the hospital and told them they couldn't send me home. Her determination helped me." We touch upon the essence of different personalities and the richness they bring to our lives. Shaw-Sutton mentions Viktor E. Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning and the importance of the stories we tell ourselves. "It's the meaning that you give things," she says. "you go with it and see it as a gift."

Our discussion takes a philosophical turn as we ponder the future and the nature of existence. She reflects on the cyclical nature of life, comparing it to the myth of Vishnu and the concept of destruction and rebirth. Shaw-Sutton believes we are in a cycle of destruction, but this realization is part of letting go of control and embracing the unknown. "I think we're in the cycle of breathing in, and things are getting destroyed," Shaw-Sutton muses. "Yeah, I think it's speeding up — the velocity of it — and I think our whole thing is to realize to let go of the control and let go of what's happening, our vision of the perfect world."

We head inside as the sun sets and the frogs' evening chorus begins to overpower Shaw-Sutton's soft voice. "You know, using our hands is a secret to life," Shaw-Shaw-Sutton says as we settle down to the task at hand — mending that sweater. It has about a hundred moth holes. "There's a big problem with Ojai that you should write in your article. And that's the moth population."

Shaw-Sutton’s experienced hands make it look easy, but my clumsy fingers soon turn a lesson in darning into a comedy of errors. Shaw-Sutton exclaims, half amused and half exasperated, as I fumble another stitch. Her laughter is warm as she watches my futile attempts to pull a piece of embroidery floss without breaking it. Despite my bumbling efforts, Shaw-Sutton is a patient teacher, guiding my hands with the gentleness of a seasoned mentor. It's a moment of genuine connection and learning — punctuated by my frustrated growls.

She tells me about an upcoming workshop she is teaching. "It's ridiculous. It's a whole semester in three days. I'm teaching this incredibly intense class to these people. I mean, I'm assuming they're going to be just like me." I get the sense she just realized the possibility that they might instead be like me.

The day ends with a sense of fulfillment, having mended a couple of moth holes and forging a deeper connection with an incredible artist and mentor. As I leave her house, I feel a renewed sense of purpose and inspiration, ready to embrace the challenges and joys of life with a needle in one hand and a story in the other, but without my phone, which I had misplaced at some point in the evening.