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Writing on Transition and Migration

Making the net involves a repetitive and methodical process of knotting, looping, tying and unravelling. It imitates an athletic performance, using the whole of my body to stretch, pull, throw and tie the very long strips of fabric. Care is taken to ensure the diagonal patterns are equally spaced out. These negative spaces are filled with irony; while a net is made to catch and trap, it still allows its prey to breathe.

Fishing nets introduce this new body of work exploring migration. The theme stems from a personal journey, and about my birthplace. There is an abundance of evidence and influence of migration throughout the long and complex history of the island of Malta. I metaphorically cast the net to capture and reinterpret my cultural heritage through a contemporary lens. Whilst it comments on the Maltese fishing industry which has been a constant source of income for the local people for many centuries, it also references the current situation of migrants seeking refuge by dangerously crossing seas in fishing boats and ending up in Malta.

The net is made from repurposed fabric. A conscious decision was made, not to use nylon twine so as not to engage in the conversation of pollution, ghost nets and plastic waste. Fabric relates to the domestic setting and the act of knotting is a nostalgic nod to the cultural tradition of Maltese bobbin lacemaking. While generations of Maltese fishermen knot and repair their nets, narrating stories and singing folk songs, similarly, their wives, mothers and daughters would gather to make lace, threading narratives, songs and prayers into their work.

A large-scale interactive installation of ropes and banisters represent the linen threads and bobbins respectively. The latter also references transition and migration.

The only instruction given is to weave their way through it. They harmoniously fall into a rhythm, collaboratively, carefully and instinctively negotiating their way around each other. Bending, reaching, ducking and twisting, they avoid tension, forming new interesting shapes. The participants decide when they have finished their part of the performance and slowly, individually put down their banister and walk away silently. What is left of the final woven rope is very sculptural and suggestive of a boat’s tangled ropes on the mast, it seems to be poised ready to take a bow.

© Angele Lautier

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