Winged Weaves

We wear linen every day. Almost no one alive can describe how it gets made.
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The work begins from that blind spot, the same one Krapiva Zhguchaya began in. The knowledge of how to take a plant fibre and turn it into the cloth that became our shirts, our sails, our oldest textiles, is held now by very few people. Linen is not exotic. The forgetting is.
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The form is not a wing by accident. Linen flew the first ships across the seas. The sculpture proposes the same fabric, in a shape that has nowhere to be yet, somewhere outward, somewhere unfamiliar. The fabric that crossed the seas could cross something further. The shape is the question, not the answer.

Light passes through the folds the way it passes through canvas in flight. The work is built so the linen is what you see, not what you stand in front of.

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