The Strengths of Textiles

02 August 2023

For designer Fransje Gimbrère, it’s not so much about the end product as it is about exploring new techniques. “Imagine if you could weave a car body.”

Foto van Fransje Gimbrère

Fransje Gimbrère never really cared for textiles as a material to work with. Too dusty. Not challenging enough. When she attended the Design Academy, she looked right past them. “Just put me in the metal or plastics workshop,” she thought. “I’ll go see what’s possible there.”

Gradually, that changed. It was precisely with textiles—the material closest to us, in clothing and in our homes—that she discovered the possibilities of techniques that are often centuries old. How valuable they are, and all the things you can do with them.

In 2017, Fransje Gimbrère (Tilburg, 1993) graduated with *Standing Textiles*, textile sculptures that are as sturdy (you can sit on them) as they are subtle, built up thread by thread using a loom specially designed for this purpose. She went on to win one design award after another; the Harrie Tillie Prize led to her solo exhibition *Conversion* at the Cuypershuis in Roermond.

The Standing Textiles, which gave her career a flying start, are also on display there, serving as eye-catchers in a trapezoidal arrangement. “2017–present,” reads the exhibition text. It speaks volumes. With Fransje Gimbrère, nothing is ever finished. There is always something to explore or develop. “For me, it’s not so much about a specific end product,” she says, “but about considering whether certain techniques can also be applied in a different way.”

She cites weaving as an example. The classic weaving technique of warp and weft produces a two-dimensional result. “My research question,” says Gimbrère, “was how to make textiles stand on their own. How do you create a sense of space with textiles? In other words: how can you add a third dimension to that warp and weft?”

She provides the answer herself: “At Standing Textiles, I work with rope across all the axes of the loom. Because of the way I’ve braided it—by crossing twelve strands over one another in a specific way—it already has a certain sturdiness.” When it’s tensioned for weaving, the rope is coated with bio-resin. “That locks the tension into the object.”

Standing Textiles generated a lot of interest, including from the architecture and automotive industries, where the combination of lightness and strength is considered the holy grail. Gimbrère: “Imagine if you could weave a car body. It would make the car lighter, which means less fuel is needed.”

Another incredibly fascinating question: how we intuitively experience what we see. Gimbrère views color, material, and the use of form “as the bridge between the body and space. How we experience space influences not only how we feel, but also our behavior.”

Driven by this fascination, she’s curious about what an object with a different ‘skin’ evokes—and how that skin can contribute to its functionality. Just as the coated rope led to Standing Textiles, featuring objects strong enough to sit on.

For the council chamber in her hometown of Tilburg, she designed Cirrus, a hand-woven grid that floats like a cloud above the council members as they conduct their political business. Gimbrère: “The Tilburg council chamber is almost entirely clad in oak veneer. Warm and homey, but also heavy and formal. It feels almost elitist. I wondered how I could influence that feeling with my artwork; after all, it’s the space where people should be able to speak freely with one another, where consensus must be reached on new policies.”

She wondered how she could help those present in the council chamber feel less stressed. “The organic and transparent nature of Cirrus creates a sense of lightness. The piece measures 6.5 by 5.5 by 1.5 meters. It was made by hand; with a team of twelve people, it took us three months to complete. Every day, every weekend, every evening—it was quite a challenge. That naturally raises the question of how we could industrialize that process. The machines at the Textile Museum aren’t designed for that. But still. Weaving three-dimensional structures on a machine—I just can’t believe it’s not possible.

For a commission from Tilburg University, Gimbrère has since created samples of 3D-woven objects by combining polyester monofilament (the material also used in tennis racket strings) with linen. “In these works, too, you can see that the pattern is actually always the same. But by draping it and letting gravity do its work, you see all kinds of patterns emerge.”

The work is intended for the entrance hall of the Koopmans Building at Tilburg University, a modernist high-rise designed by architect Jos. Bedaux. In the early 1970s, Bedaux drew inspiration from Le Corbusier’s theory of the “living machine”—see his Unité d’Habitation in Marseille. “It’s a fairly long space,” says Gimbrère, “with a glass wall on both sides. Very austere, with constantly changing light.” The assignment was to invite students to sit and work there. With these works, I’ve made the space feel more like home; I hope that’s how it’s experienced as well. At the Textiellab in Tilburg, where the samples were made, the staff asked if they could keep them there. They thought they were beautiful and that they made the space more pleasant and warmer.”

Be sure to check out the video below!

CHRISTIANE GRONENBERG is given a tour by the designer through her exhibition at the Cuypershuis in Roermond.

Fransje Gimbrère, Conversion. Through September 17 at the Cuypershuis in Roermond. cuypershuisroermond.nl

SOURCE: ZOUT Magazine (08-2023), author: Wido Smeets. Click here for more information about ZOUT Magazine!