“I am trying to capture the murky tangle of our interior world in a way that is both beautiful and haunting. My hope is that if the work rings true personally, it will resonate with others too. I am interested in exploring identity through the lens of self-perception and relationships, and how it shapes our reality. I’m a firm believer that pretty much everything in life amounts to more than just one thing, one explanation, one viewpoint. The continual tension of opposing dynamics such as aspiration and limitation, expectation and loss, belonging and alienation, truth and illusion—they fascinate me.”
Kingdom’s use of color is distinct, and plays an important role in getting her work’s message across. For the most part, her palette is made up of subdued tones, used in her character’s flesh and hair. She combines this with a single bright spot of color, such as primary red or blue. “I try to give a lot of thought to color, palette, and use or disregard of tones. I am trying to focus where the viewer’s eye goes to keep the message at its most potent. Often I will choose colors, as well as many elements in my pieces, for its symbolic value,” she says.
An avid reader and fan of literature, much of Kingdom’s content is borrowed from her favorite books. A recent work, entitled “A Spell So Exquisite,” is so named after an Emily Dickinson quote: “Life is a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it.” The embroidery depicts a couple in the middle of an intense, unknown exchange. A series of barren trees cut through them and break up the space, while blue birds flock overhead. “My narrative is about love as a spell rather than life in general, but I was taken by the portion omitted from the title—the implication that whether it is life or love, everything ultimately conspires to break it,” she explains.
It is a unique scene in that the majority of Kingdom’s images depict female characters. There are women of every age and occupation: children playing tug of war, maids working in the kitchen, clusters of women bound together by gossamer, or shedding their own skins. “My exploration of women via embroidery comes as both the creator and the subject. It is not about the delicacy of women but rather about a uniquely feminine voice, viewpoint and reality,” she says.
I have long rejected the notion that ‘women’s work’ or craft or outsider art is less important than traditional fine art.”
Embroidery was not always confined to the needlework of women, but it is considered as a delicate and traditionally feminine craft. In eighteenth-century England and its colonies, samples employing fine silks were produced by the daughters of wealthy families. This was considered a skill marking a girl’s path into womanhood as well as conveying rank and social standing. Kingdom’s work keeps the art form’s legacy in mind, while stemming from her own identity as a woman. Her decision to portray women in her embroideries is notably feminist:
“I am a feminist, but above all, a humanist who believes we are all equal. More specifically, I do not believe that equality means women should necessarily be more like men, but that there is a nonhierarchical value we all possess. I have long rejected the notion that “women’s work” or craft or outsider art is less important than traditional fine art—give me Darger’s Vivian Girls over Rubens’ Baroque babes any day.”
Kingdom recognizes her place in this special lineage, and her appreciation for embroidery lies beyond its tactile beauty. While honoring the richness of tradition, she also tries to refresh it, and in doing so has found that the evocative nature of figures in stitch better convey her ideas than other mediums can: “It’s just something that speaks to me on a visceral level, seems the most authentic way express my thoughts, and is still surprising to me after all of these years.”
“Without doubt, embroidery is beautiful and there is an inherent luster and lineage in the medium. But there is also something primitive, strange, and even awkward that strikes me as compelling, raw, and honest. It also has an intrinsic tactile quality that reaches not only the seamstress in me, but connects me to the collective memory of all the women with stories buried in thread that came before me.”*
This article was originally published in Hi-Fructose Issue 43, which is sold out. Get our latest issue in print by subscribing here.