Can embroidery be art? Ever? Or is to destined to remain relegated to the confines of the decorative, the domestic, “mere” craft? For centuries, “Art” and “craft” have been considered as two very different categories in the West. The former evokes reverence, cerebralism and reflection, occupies hallowed walls of national and international art galleries, and sells for millions in auction houses. Some have suggested that the galleries that house “art” objects could be humanist stand-ins in for the church, given the awe, tranquility and contemplation that is induced when one is in a quiet space filled with works of “art”. The latter, meanwhile, may suggest something more banal, more amateur. In the public consciousness, “craft” is more heavily associated with the keeping children, stay-at-home mothers and old women occupied. Art is considered Serious Business, while craft, simply a hobby. One should wonder: Why does a hierarchy exist between art and craft, and why are painting and sculpture always placed on top?
The hierarchy of art and craft has its roots in the Renaissance. Before the fifteenth century, object-makers of all kinds were members of guilds, which were associations of specially trained individuals who oversaw the creation of objects . The guilds sought to maintain established conventions and ensure a professional finish to all the creative output of their members. They thus outlined a strict set of rules that local craftsmen had to follow, whether they were basket-makers, goldsmiths or painters. Apprentices were trained by masters of their field until they reached an acceptable level of expertise, then becoming journeymen and later masters if they possessed enough skill. Far from the celebrity status of Da Vinci, Rembrandt or Damien Hirst, the maker of the wicker basket or gold-gilded altarpiece was generally anonymous prior to and during the Medieval period, similar to the anonymity many highly expert craftspeople have today. Prior to the Renaissance, object-makers were typically considered as a collective and it was the owner of a beautiful object, rather than its designer or creator, who would receive all the adulation.
Renaissance thought was marked, in part, by a shifting emphasis on the individual over the collective, and this newfound pre-eminence of the individual was reflected in the attitudes towards the creation of objects and art work. Painters broke from the guilds and began to demand that they they should be paid more if their work was exceptionally unique or well-crafted and some artists began to outstrip others in prestige. Painters, sculptors and architects began to make names for themselves by creating unique works, and the concept of the “artist” was born. Meanwhile, fields of production that remained in guilds and/or continued to value the maintenance of tradition over exceptionalism came to be known as “artisans” and they largely continued to remain anonymous. Their candlesticks, rugs and embroidery were considered merely decorative and unworthy of the evaluative force of the word “art”.
This hierarchy has remained essentially unchanged over the past few centuries and painting, sculpture, as well as architecture, are still considered the pre-eminent forms of creative expression in the West. The stubbornness of this designation makes one wonder; maybe it’s all for good reason? Perhaps long-held ideas about what is “Art-with-a-capital-A” and what is mere craft persist because painting and sculpture do hold some inherent artistic value that the humble porcelain jug or patchwork quilt simply cannot? In other words, what makes art art, and what makes craft craft?
Most people would identify the difference between “art” and “craft” to be its purpose. Craft-objects have a utilitarian function – they can be poured from, sat on, worn. By contrast, art is supposedly functionless and is simply meant to be contemplated, and this prompting of analysis, intellectualism or an emotional response is generally deemed more worthwhile than any “functional” role craft-objects play. However, can something not be “contemplated” or prompt an emotional response while also having the ability to store objects or keep somebody warm? Or does its usefulness pose a distraction from any supposed aesthetic or intellectual appreciation it could potentially induce? Perhaps its functionality removes it from the lofty heights of art and down to the banal, where objects simply cannot be art. If this is the case, then one must wonder why embroidery or cross stitch are deemed crafts, when they are not particularly “functional”. The argument is generally that they are merely decorative, but plenty of paintings are used as simply ornamentation and there is nothing inherent in woollen string that prevents a viewer from responding with more than “simple” pleasure, and nothing intrinsic in paint that demands the reverence it automatically receives. Objects created with “craft” materials, such as macramé creations, wood-carvings and wall hangings are lumped in as humble crafts, despite a lack of functionality and possibly “higher” intentions. Surely wool, bone china or mahogany possess the same artistic potential as paint or marble?
Given that so many crafts are traditionally associated with women’s work, such as embroidery, cross-stitch, knitting, crochet, needlepoint, jewellery-making, quilting, scrapbooking, basket-weaving and decoupage, one has to wonder what role sexism plays in the differing value given to art and craft. Some crafts, such as embroidery, have almost always been the domain of women in the West, while others, like knitting, were done by men until the industrial revolution when machines made their necessity obsolete. Either way, it is undeniable that these techniques are associated with women’s domestic labour. Perhaps it it their domesticity and not their association with women that relegates these techniques to mere craft? Either way, it is unfortunate that so much of women’s creative output is looked down upon.
The inferior status of craftwork not only does a disservice to the highly skilled and thoughtfully produced creations of modern craftspeople, it has certainly done a disservice to the art-objects of different cultures seen through the eyes of Westerners. The rest of the world largely does not distinguish between art and craft and the West’s emphasis on innovation and individualism is the exception rather than the rule. In many cultures, it is a craftsperson’s ability to execute artistic conventions passed down through millenia with expertise and a professional finish that will earn them respect and acclaim. From the nineteenth century, when European powers colonised large swathes of Africa, African artistic output has been deemed unsophisticated, in part because of its adherence to traditions established millennia ago and in part because of its abundance of such ‘unworldly’ forms as pottery and masks. It has been relegated the same low status as craft, lacking the intrinsic value infused in anything created with pigments, bristle-topped sticks and a piece of cloth.
