Piece of Homespun Wool c. 1938

Hugh Clarke made this “Piece of Homespun Wool” without a date, with, I imagine, some kind of watercolor or gouache, maybe with a very fine brush, or even a dry pen. You can see the weave so clearly, the way the colours shift in each woven square. Imagine him at work, trying to evoke not just the look but the feel of the fabric, the rough texture of the wool. I wonder if he had a piece of cloth next to him, maybe even a piece he’d woven himself? What was he thinking as he painstakingly painted each tiny thread? There's something deeply satisfying in the grid, the uneven edges, the way the colours sit next to each other. I think of Anni Albers and the Bauhaus, or even Agnes Martin and the way she used grids to map an inner world. It's like Clarke is inviting us to slow down, to look closely, to find beauty in the everyday. And it makes you realize, all art forms, even painting and weaving, are just ongoing conversations, a sharing of ideas across time.