Q+A with textile artist Betty Wood
This Toronto-based artist brings scenes to life on canvas with her punch needle. Learn what inspires her work and how each piece takes form.
Photography by Trina Turl
Who are you? Can you share a bit about yourself?
Most people know me as Betty Wood, editor-in-chief of the design and property magazine, The Spaces, but I’m also a queer fibre artist working in Toronto.
I’m originally from the northeast of England and lived and worked in London before moving to Canada around five years ago. It was during the pandemic I began to re-explore my interest in textile arts and finally had the space (and courage) to create without expectation. The seed has taken root here, and in many ways, my work is very grounded in my daily life here in Canada.
What has your creative journey been like?
I was the kid who’d spend hours before and after school drawing at the dining room table. But I wasn't brought up going to galleries; my parents weren’t ‘artistic’ in the traditional sense, and I was deterred from studying art at university – it was ‘too risky’ a degree, too unstable a career.
When the pandemic hit, I, like so many other people, had a major life reset. I needed a release from anxiety, and needle punch was a mindful and productive way for me to spend my time because travel wasn’t an option, and lockdown kept us in our 64sqm downtown condo.
I spent 12 months creating pieces in my home, exploring disparate but interesting topics: queer iconography, mythology, tarot, plants. I let myself play. Finally, when my wife and I moved to our new home in the West End of Toronto, I began a series of large-scale tapestries capturing our home life and the stillness of the city during the pandemic.
Photography by Trina Turl
“When you’re working with yarn, there are no such restrictions. I start with the element I’m most excited about – and it carries me through the completion of the project.”
Photography by Trina Turl
Your textile pieces look like paintings from a distance. Can you tell me about the process of creating them?
It’s a bit unorthodox, but I ‘sketch’ my design out in yarn using an Oxford punch needle straight onto the canvas.
I don't use projectors or digital or mechanical elements (save a sewing machine to fix the edges). My artworks take anywhere from 24 to 200+ hours to create using hand tools: it’s slow and terribly analogue, but it’s incredibly freeing to create this way! If you don’t like something, you can pull it out and there’s still a pristine canvas beneath.
When painting, you build your background and work from dark to light, adding layers of colour. When you’re working with yarn, there are no such restrictions. I start with the element I’m most excited about – and it carries me through the completion of the project.
My works are reversible, and they have two very different vibes. The embroidered sides are tight and flat, with clean black lines, like an illustration. (I’m quite interested in medieval embroidery, so maybe this is partly inspired by that!) Meanwhile, the loop pile side has a wonderful dappled effect, more like a painting. It’s not until you’re up close touching the work you realise that it’s made with wool. It’s kind of wild and unexpected.
“I needed a release from anxiety, and needle punch was a mindful and productive way for me to spend my time.”
Above the Dizzy (Autumn ablaze), 2022 | “Interiors play an important role in my current body of work, not just aesthetically but in terms of memory and light. This space in Roncesvalles, Toronto, was a place of personal healing filled with warmth and possibility. Lying on the rug in the early afternoon was akin to indoor forest bathing.” | Photography by Trina Turl
Is there anyone that has had a particular influence in your work?
The tradition of rug hooking is a huge influence in itself: you’re standing on the shoulders of generations of creative women* who’ve come before. Most of whom weren’t celebrated or acknowledged for their artistry. I see myself as a dot within this vast canon of creativity: from proggy mats and rag rugs in northeast England to Atlantic Canada’s rich tradition of rug hooking.
Every country has its own rug-making textile tradition, including Egypt, Turkey, India and Scandinavia. It is as universal as it is unique.
On a personal level, my wife Louise has been incredibly supportive of my work – we’ve taken trips to Nova Scotia to visit wool shops and hooking studios together. She’s given me time and space to create and has been both my critic and champion.
My favourite contemporary practitioners are Simone Elizabeth Saunders, Venus Perez, Elycia SFA, Selby Ingle Hurst, Holl Palmer, and Talia Ramkilawan. Then there’s Deanne Fitzpatrick – I’ve made trips to Nova Scotia to see her work in person.
The longest winter (While my heart-shaped philodendron gently weeps) | “This huge piece captures the excitement of my wife and I moving into our new home juxtaposed with the bleakness of winter during the pandemic. The background has a few influences: the saltbox houses of Acadian rugs and the industrial scenes of LS Lowry. There are lots of Easter eggs to be found in it, too.” | Photography by Trina Turl
“There are a lot of snobberies around textile art, which, by and large, has been denigrated as ‘women’s hobby craft’. But this attitude is starting to shift, I think.”
What inspires your designs?
Emotion, first and foremost. I’m always trying to capture a feeling in my pieces; I want people to take comfort from them. Within that, many themes exist – including the politics of being queer and establishing a home; of taking up space as a queer woman. Then there are the more overt ones: interior design is a big one, as are plants, interior spaces and non-traditional landscapes. The former act as protagonists, while I use landscapes to depict the passage of time, seasonality and change. I also try to capture that element of comfort and familiarity – in an unexpected and tactile way.
What's next for you as an artist?
In April, I’ll be having my first solo show in Toronto, and I’m giving some talks and workshops this summer around Ontario. I’ve been taking on private commissions as I continue working on pieces exploring space – right now, the overarching theme connecting my works is ‘personal geography’; spaces, rooms and places that have shaped me.
You know, I’ve interviewed hundreds of artists as a writer, but I am only now seeing it from the other side. There are a lot of snobberies around textile art, which, by and large, has been denigrated as ‘women’s hobby craft’. But this attitude is starting to shift, I think. Rug tufting on Tiktok has ignited an interest in textile arts, but it’s also blurred the lines between art and manufacturing.
Toronto, Canada
