For a bit over forty years, Michael F. Rohde has been a weaver of tapestries and rugs. Using the geometry of the grid, Rohde has created series that explore language, textiles, current events, and cultural imagery, including Tibetan Buddhism. A fundamental component of the loom’s visual language, the grid’s restrictive form has allowed the artist to move beyond direct representation to access the personal through color and scale. His work has been exhibited and collected widely, including at The Textile Museum (Washington, DC), Mingei, San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles, Ventura County Museum of Art, Racine Art Museum, and the Art Institute of Chicago.
For more information, please see: www.michaelrohde.com, and on Instagram @michaelfrohde.
Michael F. Rohde, Boro, 2013. Handwoven tapestry and embroidery: wool, silk, natural dyes. 33½“ x 31½”. Photo: Andrew Neuhart.
First, and most importantly, how are you doing? How are you navigating the highs and lows?
In general, all is as well as might be expected given the current circumstances. Navigating the changes has become easier for me; as I’ve aged over the years, I’ve learned to accept change as part of life and resistance to change as one source of unhappiness. Also, I try to be aware of the futility of fretting about things one cannot affect. It is a way of thinking that does not work for everyone, but I’m glad it does for me.
Michael F. Rohde, Winter/Lake Biwa, 2001, handwoven rug: wool, dyes, 59" x 48”, photo: Andrew Neuhart. In the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.
It's my experience that most artists engage with some level of self-isolation in their day to day art practice. Has this been your experience? And if so, have you found these innate rhythms to be helpful during this larger, world-wide experience of isolation?
It is quite true that as a hand weaver, my most productive work is done in isolation. Up to now, I would weave an average of four hours a day. As the pandemic went on, I have found this has inched up to eight or more hours on the average. In some ways, the work has become a rhythm that fills the emptiness and inability to do other things. It provides a sense of moving forward. However, it does not take the place of face-to-face meetings with other people, while not on computer screens.
Michael F. Rohde, Water, 2009. Handwoven tapestry: wool, natural dyes. 35” x 48”. Photo: Andrew Neuhart.
It would be great if you could briefly talk us through your practice. Understanding it is integral to appreciating the multivalence of your work.
My usual practice is to create work in series. This starts with an idea, or set of ideas. Sketches are made, reviewed and refined over days or weeks. Next, I always dye the yarns I need for a given piece. For the last decade and a half, my end products have been hand woven tapestries for the wall (after many more years of weaving functional floor rugs, which more and more wound up on the wall). Since I do not begin weaving until all the design and color decisions have been made, the weaving process is not fraught with step by step choices to be made, and it leaves my mind to freely wander: thinking about the next piece, listening to news, music or recorded books.
Michael F. Rohde, Compassion, 2014. Handwoven tapestry: wool, alpaca, camel; natural dyes. 35" x 32". Photo: Andrew Neuhart.
Michael F. Rohde, Litang Chode, 2006. Handwoven tapestry: wool, silk, dyes. 24½“ x 24½”. Photo: Andrew Neuhart. In the collection of The Textile Museum, Washington, DC.
Michael F. Rohde, Golden, 2014. Handwoven tapestry: wool, natural dyes. 47" x 36½“. Photo: Andrew Neuhart.
Has any of your imagery shifted in a reflection to what's currently happening? And why, or why not?
Imagery has not shifted as yet, mostly because I’ve been working on two sets of tapestries, for two museum exhibitions, planned, but likely now tentative. However, I am mentally processing what is happening and expect that something will come later. Tapestry is such a slow process that I’ve found it wise to spend much time planning before jumping right into execution of an idea. Usually one will spend weeks or months on a given tapestry. You want to be certain that you’ve taken the right direction, and it would not have been better if you were to have done something else or have done it differently.
Michael F. Rohde, Enough, 2019. Handwoven tapestry: un-dyed alpaca, cochineal. 46” x 35”. Photo: W. Scott Miles.
What is bringing you solace, or even joy, in this moment?
It is the work, and finding that I am able to create and complete a body of new work. Also, morning walks and meditation along an isolated mountain road near me. Then there is talking to others on the phone or via computer video.
Michael F. Rohde, Acoma, 2012. Handwoven tapestry: wool, natural dyes. 29 ¾“ x 32”. photo: Andrew Neuhart.
What research or writing are you doing that you find compelling?
As a rule, I have done little writing, but now do find that I am spending more time answering questions and explaining past work that I have shared with friends. The extra time for the current weaving work has allowed me to spend even more time dyeing the yarns, researching and learning more about the natural dyes I now use. I find new insights with every batch and incorporate more about combining dyes (in sequential dye baths) to obtain subtle color shifts.
Michael F. Rohde, Inflammatory, 2020. Handwoven tapestry: wool, natural dyes. 76”x 48½”. Photo: W. Scott Miles.
Are you reading anything?
As mentioned above, I listen to recorded books while weaving; one that moved and motivated me quite a bit was “Begin Again” by Eddie Glaude. This led me to read more of James Baldwin’s books, and opened profound new insights on my previously held opinions.
Yarns for Oaxaca tapestry, 2020. Wool, natural dyes. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Oaxaca tapestry in progress on the loom, 2020. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Where are you physically?
In the strictest sense, I am in California, about fifty miles out of Los Angeles, in a rural part of the western Santa Monica Mountains. I walk a couple of miles before breakfast and while weaving am always in motion, as I’ve always woven while standing and walking back and forth in front of the loom. Though not aerobic exercise, it keeps me somewhat fit and moving.