Lena Royalz Otterheim Swedish, b. 1982

Overview

Thoughts of family and heritage often become palpable in my work. I act with my hands and my body. I find myself holding volume. Seek balance.

The human nature is questioned, as the textile material in a direct way, places my work in our history. My father was a painter, my Mama is a sculptor. They met at an art school in Moscow.
In 1980 they fled to Sweden with seven children, then four more were born. With CCCP behind my back, thoughts of family and heritage often become palpable in my work. I act with my hands and my body. I find myself holding volume. Seek balance. As an artist, I work with sculptural painting. This means that with textiles as the main material, I let other mediums flirt with my luggage. My themes concern body, environment and heritage and end up as one or more works and/or parts. Before studying at Art School, I worked in fashion for many years. I continue to bend places with materials.

SV. Människans natur ifrågasätts, där det textila materialet på ett direkt sätt placerar mitt arbete i historien. Min far var målare, min Mama är skulptör. De möttes på en konstskola i Moskva. År 1980 flydde de till Sverige med sju barn, sedan föddes ytterligare fyra. Med CCCP i ryggen, blir tankar om familj och arv ofta påtagliga i verken. Jag agerar med mina händer och min kropp. Jag kommer på sig själv med att hålla volym. Söka balans. I mitt konstnärskap arbetar jag med skulpturalt måleri. Det innebär att jag med textilen som huvudmaterial låter andra medium flirta med mitt bagage. Mina teman rör kropp, miljö och arv och slutar som ett eller flera verk och/eller delar. Innan jag studerade på Konstskola, arbetade jag med mode i många år. Jag fortsätter böja platser med material.

Download Artist's CV

Biography

When I zoom in on fabric, I see skin, and when I zoom in on skin, I see fabric. Like so many women before them, my Babushka taught me how to knit and hand-embroider, and my Mama taught me to crochet and sew. I look at photos of my ninety-eight-year-old Babushka—her hands stiff and full of folds, her fingers bent in ways that only a lifetime of handcraft can shape. Babushka’s wrinkles are one of the clearest visual signs that she has lived a full human life. Some of Babushka’s wrinkles I can already see on my Mama. Here, the proof is not only of age but of blood inheritance. A part of Babushka’s body is my Mama’s. A part of my Mama’s body is mine. Heritage shows itself in different ways, some as obvious as wrinkles in the skin, others as scars across the right eyebrow.

My weaving becomes a way to tell stories about the people who came before me and about people in my time. Textile weaving is like skin. The irregularities in the weave, or the “mistakes,” are what happen to skin over the years. They are the scars, wounds, warts, and birthmarks that tell a story. When I weave, I always leave room for chance so that mistakes can occur. Maybe I skip a treadle or a heddle. I use the restlessness in my body to give the weave life and build a story. I mix the thickness of the yarn to create irregularities in the skin. Just like life. Sometimes the skin becomes smooth and calm, but then the threads flare up, move irregularly, and compete to take center stage. A thread breaks, and the repair creates a dip or bulge. Somewhere in that process, the individual begins to emerge. The unique person—some threads inherited, some found along the way. They are threads I’ve received from my Mama and Babushka, but also newly made. One thread I bought in a store in Moscow—it’s made in Taiwan.

SV. När jag zoomar in på väv så ser jag hud och när jag zoomar in på hud ser jag väv. Som så många andra kvinnor före dem, har min Babusjka lärt mig att sticka och handbrodera och min Mama har lärt mig virka och sy. Jag ser på foton av min nittioåtta år gamla Babusjka, händerna stela och fulla med veck, fingrarna krökta på ett sätt som endast ett livslångt handarbete kan forma. Babusjkas rynkor är en av de tydligaste visuella bevis på att hon levt ett helt människoliv. Somliga av Babusjkas rynkor ser jag även på min Mama. Här blir beviset inte bara på ålder utan även på blodsarv. En del av min Babusjkas kropp är min Mamas. En del av min Mamas kropp är min. Arv syns på olika sätt, somliga så tydliga som rynkor i huden, andra som ärr tvärs igenom högra ögonbrynet. Min vävning blir ett sätt att berätta historier om människor som varit innan mig och om människor i min samtid.

Textil väv är som hud. Ojämnheterna i väven, eller ”felen” är det som händer med huden genom åren. Det är ärren, såren, vårtorna och födelsefläckarna som berättar en historia. När jag väver lämnar jag alltid plats åt slumpen så att fel kan uppstå. Kanske hoppar jag över en trampa eller ett solvöga. Rastlösheten i min kropp använder jag till att ge väven liv och bygga en historia. Jag blandar tjockleken på garnet för att skapa ojämnheter i huden. Såsom livet levs. Ibland blir huden slät och lugn men sen brusar trådarna upp, rör sig oregelbundet och tävlar om att hamna i fokus. Ett garn går av och lagningen skapar en grop eller utbuktning. Någonstans här börjar individen växa fram. Den unika människan, somliga trådar ärvda, somliga hittade på vägen. Det är trådar jag fått av min Mama och Babusjka men även nytillverkat. En tråd har jag köpt i en butik i Moskva, den är made in Taiwan.

Download Artist's CV

Works