With Their Shows "A Fray to Mend" and "Gestures of Ground," Art Students Faith Watkins and Aubrey Kenney Allen Share Their Multimedia Work
With thread, paint, ink and even dirt, art students Aubrey Allen and Faith Watkins welcomed spring term with their Weight Room shows, “A Fray to Mend” and “Gestures of Ground.” Inspired by the landscape around them and the “tactile language of textiles,” these two artists’ attention to detail and meaning reflect a deep reverence and devotion to their craft. Learn more about Allen’s and Watkins’ shows in the Q&A below.
Q: What materials did you use?
Allen: For “Gestures of Ground,” I drew and painted with both traditional materials (watercolor paint, acrylic paint, pencil, ink, pen) and also non-traditional materials (silt, dirt, various wood stains).
Watkins: For “A Fray to Mend,” I used mixed media — thread, fabric and watercolors.
Q: What themes did you explore in your shows?
Allen: Rock and sediment have a deep history and curiosity to them; they hold millennia of “experience” and are witnesses of geologic and topographic events that humans can only speculate about. In another way, rocks also have emotional value to them, a value one may assign to them. Though we may trample over them, we also collect them, admire them and bring them into our homes. We examine them and classify them; we associate their colors and shapes with those that harbor meaning to us.
In my explorations in the deserts and mountains of Utah, I seek to express my geologic and petrologic findings — found rocks, hand-made maps, research, journaled experiences with the terrain itself and other documentation — through abstraction. These maps, topographies and artifacts themselves abstract the physical form of the everyday into visual information, revealing hidden patterns and unforeseen narratives.
Watkins: My BFA final show explores the relationship between mental health, healing and the tactile language of textiles. From the outset of this project, I proposed using traditional craft techniques as a means to reflect on emotional experiences, specifically the internal and often invisible process of psychological repair. This body of work emerged from that intent, using materials and methods historically associated with domestic craft — embroidery, lacework and crochet — to speak to the quiet strength and vulnerability involved in healing. As someone who has navigated mental health challenges, I was drawn to the symbolism embedded in fabric and thread and to the power of repetition, deconstruction and rebuilding as metaphors for recovery.
By using embroidery, lace-making and the deconstruction and reconstruction of painted works, I reflect on the slow, vulnerable and often unseen process of emotional repair. Rooted in floral symbolism and the language of thread, this body of work expresses the tension between beauty and pain, visibility and invisibility and the quiet strength it takes to confront inner unraveling and begin to mend.
The title, “A Fray to Mend,” is a play on words, echoing the phrase “afraid to mend.” I chose it because the process of healing, whether emotional, physical or spiritual, can feel overwhelming at first. Still, it is always worthwhile. The word “mend” also connects to both sewing and wellness, reflecting the intertwined themes of repair, care and restoration that shape this work.
Q: How have you grown as an artist as you have prepared for this show?
Allen: In preparation for “Gestures of Ground,” I learned that working with overlooked materials, such as silt and dirt, allowed me to see my surroundings differently; suddenly every object, every substance, every surface, became a material, something I could collaborate with to form a narrative completely outside itself. I also learned that I love to work with abstracting the observed world; many if not all the works I made for “Gestures of Ground” were the result of careful examination and then abstraction. Abstracting the natural world brings a wildness and emotion into the lens of how we perceive it.
Watkins: Preparing for this show has stretched me in both practical and personal ways. I’ve grown by diving into new processes, like learning how to digitize my drawings and turn them into freestanding lace, something I had never done before. It was a challenge to figure out the technical side of embroidery and lace-making, but pushing through the frustration and uncertainty became part of the work’s meaning. I had to learn when to let go of scale and instead prioritize detail, trusting that quiet, careful moments could carry just as much emotional weight.
This process helped me better understand the kind of artist I am becoming — someone drawn to tenderness, precision and storytelling. Studying the symbolism of flowers and incorporating them into the work gave me a way to visually explore themes like trust, resilience and healing. It reminded me that softness can be powerful, and that small, intentional choices often hold the most meaning.