Jackie Bourque A Fascination with Fibers

Jackie Bourque has a Diploma in Textiles from the New Brunswick College of Craft and Design (NBCCD) and has been weaving for over 30 years. She is an Instructor in the Textiles Department at NBCCD, in addition to having a vibrant studio practice. Her production ranges from hand-dyed woven scarves to more conceptual gallery exhibitions. She has shown her work at UNB Art Centre, Saint John City Gallery, and was part of the traveling exhibition Felt:Feutre in BC. She has been awarded artist's residencies at Fredericton Arts Alliance, Hoyt House, and took part twice in Craft NB’s Beneath the Surface.

You've described yourself as a "free-range" child. Can you describe this experience?

My family had a dairy farm on the banks of the beautiful Wolostaquaway River. The farm has been in my family for years, and when I was young, my father shared the responsibility with two brothers and my grandfather. It was a lot of work. The cows had to be milked every day, hay had to be cut, bailed and stacked, and garden produce had to be harvested, washed and canned. There were no vacations — but there were also few restrictions. My siblings, the neighbor kids, and I explored the fields and woods, played in the hay loft and dreamed up all sorts of adventures.

What did you learn from the experience?

I learned a lot about my strengths and my limitations. About a dozen kids lived in the area, some older and some younger, and we all played together. In the summer five male cousins came to help on the farm, and our tribe swelled. They brough with them a different kind of risk-taking. I’m glad that my mother never knew what we were up to sometimes! There are many ways to get hurt on a farm, but through having so much freedom, I learned to judge risks and to push past my comfort zone. I became self-reliant and adventuresome.

How did this early self-reliance contribute to the artist you have become?

I think I am both resourceful and grounded. Presented with just about any problem (from feeding a family on a tight budget to fitting in studio time), I can find a way to make things work. I like pushing myself and my ideas until they seem right. And I see failure as normal and even necessary. We often learn more from our failures than from our successes.

You have been interested in many art mediums, but have focused on textiles for over forty years. What attracted you to fibers in the first place?

My mother taught me to knit, crochet and embroider as a child. I saw it as being ‘women’s work.' High school art classes were great but there was no textile component. So, I entered NBCCD planning to major in photography or ceramics. Fortunately, I attended a mandatory artist talk, given by a weaver named Randall Darwall. In his slide presentation he showed images of luxurious, richly-coloured woven items. I was intrigued. Then, after the lecture he threw a handful of his scarves into the audience. By feeling a silk scarf and looking more carefully at the colours, I realized that textiles could be so much more than I had first thought.

What qualities about textiles most attract you?

I am especially indebted to Charlotte Glencross, a local artist and tapestry weaver who sadly passed in 2007. I inherited her yarns, including thousands of small paper bobbins on which she blended different colours for use in her tapestries. Using these remnants showed me a new way of blending colours. This has played a big role in my current work.

I am also eager to share my skills with others and so I've posted many of my technical demonstrations at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg6fpgTAQyU

Intersections between technique and concept are so important in every artwork. Can you describe the development of Intersticies?

So many of my artworks begin with something commonplace that sparks my interest. This is no exception. When we cleaned out my in-law’s house, we found a number of hand-cut antique puzzles. The pieces were very odd shapes. I started stitching the shapes with white embroidery floss. I really didn't know where I was going; I just kept stitching one shape after another. After all the puzzle pieces were defined, I decided to focus on the space between them, blending colours together to create gradations The resulting 20x40" artwork is visually engaging as a pattern made up of very distinctive shapes. It also can suggest all sorts of situations in which multiple parts create a unified whole.

The concept behind your flag series seems more explicit.  

Yes. It began simply. I needed a small project to do during a long driving trip. I found myself stitching the words “everything is fine”, even though it wasn’t. This brought me to wondering about the commonplace question "How are you?" It is an automatic greeting that many people use even though we usually don’t really want to know the truth. After stitching my personal answers, I was curious to know how other people felt. I posted the question on Facebook and got an amazing range of answers. I found myself stitching some in tiny, delicate words — a whisper, perhaps — and others more boldly, almost like a declaration. There are now 53 of these flags and when strung together, the series is over fifty feet long. 

It seems that this extended series gave you lots of room to try different approaches.

Yes. Each flag brings voice to a thought, emotion, or feeling with which the viewer can connect. Each started out with a circle of various embroidery stitches. Almost like trying to “keep it together."

You've noted the benefit of intensive workshops. Can you describe one such workshop and list three or four things you gained from it?

One of the most memorable was a five-day workshop in Lunenburg, titled Talking Textiles.  Instructor Warren Seelig asked us to bring 300 objects “with which we were enamoured”. My collection included rocks, beads, and embroidery floss, to name a few.  We spent the first day and a half working with "boring" materials such as masking tape, twine and paper. This encouraged experimentation; any interest would have to be generated by the designs we produced rather than by the materials themselves. The next three days were devoted to creating samples using our 300 objects and then a ‘final project.’ I used the rocks and through a series of sampling with different materials, ideas, and techniques, developed the ideas and techniques I used for two future projects.

You've also completed a number of artist's residencies. Can you describe one of them and describe its impact?

One of the most transformative was a five-day intensive in 2017 titled Beneath the Surface. Organized by Allie Murphy (executive direct of Craft New Brunswick) it brought together twenty artists to explore, work, and take workshops at Fundy National Park. I had no idea what I was going to produce, so was completely open to the possibilities. It encouraged me to see and engage with the landscape in a new way, had a huge impact on my subsequent artwork, and provided lifelong friendship for everyone in the group. Here's a detail from a large-scale felted artwork inspired by the rocks and landscape at Gros Morne National Park.

What aspects of residencies or workshops are most inspiring?

Four come to mind. First, simply being in a new place is refreshing and often exhilarating. Second, I enjoy the interaction with the other people. I'm usually pretty reserved around strangers, and a residency or workshop encourages me to reach out and share more. Third, when there are critiques, we all get to share our thinking processes. At a workshop, when everyone is working on the same problem, it lets me consider solutions that are very different from my own. Often another participant's words spark a new idea for me. Fourth, I have to work with what I've got. I can't take my whole studio with me, so I have to be resourceful. I can't rely on my familiar surroundings or existing approaches: I have to stretch!

You are clearly very dedicated to teaching. Can you name the most important "take-aways" you hope your students gain from your teaching?

My class sizes are typically small and I work with each student very intensively. The main take-aways I emphasize follow.

• Make samples. Each sample turns an initial idea into a physical object. It is far better to make your mistakes in small scale than to commit months of work to a large-scale piece that doesn't work. An extreme example was the large and complex tablecloth one of my former students wove, only to find that it was too small. When her husband asked if she had made a sample like her teacher told her, she sheepishly admitted she had not.

• Play with "what if" as a generative question. What if you tried a different technique, changed the scale, used a new material? The possibilities are endless! You can create thousands of variations on any idea and thinking through at least seven of them greatly improves you chances of pursuing a great design rather than just settling for your first design.

• Accept constructive criticism. Praise is pleasant, but it doesn't help you identify weaknesses in your project or even alternative approaches you might try.

• Learn how to learn. There is always more to learn — not just about fibers but about nature, culture, history and ourselves. The more you learn, the more you can grow. One good way to make sure you learn something well is by teaching it to someone else.

We are often advised to focus tightly, so that like a laser beam, we can cut a hole through any problem. It seems that you have rejected this advice.

For some people, tight focus works well. Not me. I'm driven by curiosity and want to learn everything I can. I noted this in the artist statement I wrote upon graduation: "I cannot limit myself to one aspect of art as all hold some interest for me.” Instead of a laser beam cutting through a wall, I think of my art practice as a lamp that illuminates an entire room. Something magical may be tucked away in a corner!

Asking "what if" seems like a great driver for creativity.

It is for me. "What if" encourages us to look at every object or situation with fresh eyes. What if I make rocks from felt and combine them with actual rocks in an installation? What if I seek more honest answers to a commonplace question, as I did with the flags? "What if" allows us to consider the widest range of possible solutions when we are solving any problem. Rather than accepting the obvious or predictable answer, we can consider many, many options. With "What if?" every situation invites a creative response.

In almost any situation, there is a lot of unrealized potential. What further potential do you see for creativity across Canada?

One of the biggest problems is communication. We have amazing artists, writers and other creative people across Canada that are hardly known beyond their circle of friends. Let's get the word out!