Caterina Frongia weaves stories of threads and memory, giving new life to an ancient practice that is renewed through her vision. Weaving becomes an artistic language and her works are material narratives that speak of tradition, creativity, and craftsmanship.
Caterina Frongia weaves threads and warps, constructing a narrative made of ancient gestures and contemporary sensibility. The loom, from a production tool, becomes an expressive means capable of shaping the material, combining repetition and uniqueness, discipline and intuition. The manual process, with its rhythmic pace, takes on an almost meditative dimension, a silent dialogue between the artist and the material.
In Frongia's works, weaving is rooted in the artisanal culture of his land, Sardinia, but it does not simply evoke the past. His fabrics and tapestries, while recalling ancient techniques, break free from decorative patterns and rigid symmetries, becoming material abstractions. Tradition, therefore, is not a constraint, but a starting point for new explorations. The thread, a primordial and ancestral symbol, transforms into a personal visual code, capable of narrating memory without nostalgia.
Wool, cotton, natural fibers: the material is not just a support, but the very soul of the work. Caterina Frongia explores the texture, tension, and consistency of yarns, creating compositions that play with tactile and visual perception. The choice of natural materials emphasizes a deep connection with the earth and the rhythm of craftsmanship, opposing the standardization of industrial production. Each thread carries a sense of authenticity, transforming the fabric into a lively and pulsating surface.
In an age dominated by speed and standardization, Caterina Frongia's work claims the value of slow time, conscious repetition, and gesture. Weaving, a practice that requires attention and dedication, becomes a form of artistic resistance, an act of connection between the past and the present. Her work invites us to rediscover the pleasure of imperfection, the beauty of handcrafted material, and the expressive power of an art that does not fear delicacy.
#1 answer
Weaving is an ancient language, but in your work it becomes a contemporary expressive medium. When did you realize that thread and loom would be your tools for artistic exploration?
I wanted to be a writer, human beings are what interest me the most. But writing requires talent and knowledge, passion alone is not enough. Carpets and tapestries have always told stories and I had a tool at my disposal. My main work involves writing my client's story on the tapestry. It's a kind of portrait I create for them, similar to what was done with painting or photography: I meet them, they tell me their story, I write down as much information as I can gather, then I go home, analyze the narrative, condense it into symbols, and have it woven. So, it's a three-handed job, the client providing the content of the work, me translating it, and the weaver executing it.
#2 answer
Your work moves between abstraction and material, gesture and structure. Does your textile project originate from the material, the concept, or the design?
I would like to say it originates from the material, but that's not the case. It undeniably starts from the concept: since it's not just a product or a design object, the work must begin with a strong foundation. If I don't have a message to convey, whether it's ethical, philosophical, political, or ecological in nature, no matter how small my perspective, the work wouldn't come into being. I feel it's a duty, if I have nothing to say, I say nothing, the work cannot exist.
#3 answer
Your work draws from traditional weaving techniques, particularly those of Sardinia. How do you relate to this artisanal heritage?
Weaving is first and foremost a family heritage (my mother is a weaver), but I chose to engage with it to close a gap between who I am today and my homeland as I left it as a young girl. I am not interested in craftsmanship for the sake of it, as many do it very well and in a refined manner. Instead, I may be interested in the anthropological aspect of crafting in Sardinia or preserving a continuity with the traditions of the genius loci. I like to highlight a common art, not elitist, a creation considered secondary to painting or sculpture, to the visual arts considered major.
Through my work, I would like to convey the possibility of considering the past as a present, of experiencing it as a constant contemporary, of fostering a coexistence between it and us. The loom is perhaps the oldest typewriter in the world, and the design on the tapestry is, for me, as I mentioned before, a form of writing.
#4 answer
The act of weaving is repetitive, yet at the same time unique and unrepeatable. What does it mean for you to work with the rhythm of manual labor in an era dominated by speed and automation?
My tapestries are woven on manual looms, without the use of electricity, relying solely on the strength of the arms and the passage of the shuttle through the threads to create the weft. The material I use is wool, which has always been used to make carpets, so in this sense, I haven't invented anything new; I continue an activity that has existed for a long time. This is my ecological message - I can work without polluting. Furthermore, everyone should learn to work with their hands; hands are our second brain, learning to make things means understanding the world. But I have nothing against industry and technology; I find them necessary and fascinating, and I believe that the two worlds can coexist and even blend in some cases. Certainly, the manual skill and slowness of weaving are essential for creating unique and tailor-made pieces. But this applies to any field related to craftsmanship.
#5 answer
The materials in your works have a strong visual and tactile presence. How do you choose fibers, and to what extent does the material itself guide the composition of the work?
The material I mostly use is wool, which has always been used to make carpets, but recently I have introduced many materials unrelated to weaving, such as ropes, wooden sticks, bamboo coral, raffia, and so on: the result is a three-dimensionality that traditional work did not have, and the inserted objects make the language simpler, more accessible to interpretation. Like a picture for a child who cannot read yet.
#6 answer
In your works, the weaving seems to go beyond the concept of two-dimensionality, acquiring a strong material presence. Have you ever thought of weaving as a spatial element that can transform into a structure? Two-dimensionality is definitely too limiting for me. Moreover, tapestries and carpets are the ultimate nomadic objects, still representing today the bed, the roof, the first home for many civilizations: the most easily transportable home that exists. My tapestry is nomadic both in structure and themes, many times I have imagined building an entire room out of fabric and soon I will. But the architectural value is already in its material: thermal and acoustic insulation, fire-resistant, durable. #7 answer
We are almost at the end of the interview, in the editorial office we are all passionate about music and it is one of the artistic languages we privilege, can you tell us three tracks that you are particularly attached to. Thank you. I have three hundred! I point my finger at random and I feel sorry for those I won't choose. "Wake up" by Arcade Fire, "Yassassin" by David Bowie, and "Struggle for Pleasure" by Wim Mertens. Music is part of my work, sometimes I start right from the lyrics of a song to give a title to a work.
