Woven Coverlet 1935 - 1942

This is Charles Roadman's "Woven Coverlet," and I see it as a map of making, charting the territory between intention and accident. The red and green threads chase each other, creating patterns that feel both precise and wonderfully wonky. Up close, you can almost feel the rhythm of the loom, the push and pull of the shuttle. Look at how the colors bleed into each other at the edges of the shapes, that fuzziness gives the whole thing a kind of blurry softness. It makes me think about the way our hands remember movements our brains have forgotten. Roadman embraces the slight imperfections and irregularities in his craft, that are like a fingerprint, revealing the human touch. It reminds me a little of Anni Albers’ weavings, but with a folksier, more down-to-earth vibe. Both were interested in the language of textiles, the way patterns can speak without words. Roadman invites us to get lost in the weave, to find our own stories within its threads.