Vietnam War weaving c. 20th century

Curator: It's arresting, isn't it? There’s something powerful about the juxtaposition of the geometric with recognizable forms. Editor: Indeed. Let's contextualize it. What we are looking at here is a weaving, titled simply “Vietnam War weaving,” from roughly the 20th century. The piece is currently held here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art, made using cotton. Curator: A Vietnam war weaving. It carries within it, visually, a collision of worlds, ancient symbols disrupted by... helicopters? What’s so striking is this rendering of technologically advanced warfare through a deeply traditional craft. What do you think that says? Editor: It says volumes. The textile is a potent visual record, a form of indigenous expression responding directly to the intrusion of global politics into everyday life. We have what seem to be stylized elephants, powerful totemic animals interspersed with what appear to be helicopters... a brutal disruption of the natural order by external forces. It transforms a traditionally beautiful geometric medium into a statement on power, conflict, and survival. The symbols reflect this history. Curator: Absolutely. The act of weaving itself becomes a form of resistance, almost like a visual memory keeping— a way to imprint and process trauma through these symbols. We're seeing both the past and the present coexisting, perhaps even battling, within the fiber itself. Do you read anything in how the elephants themselves are arranged? Editor: The hierarchy, definitely. A lighter-toned, perhaps more idealized elephant at the top, while the bottom seems grounded, burdened. It reads to me like the disruption ripples down, affecting the foundations of society. This is a very intimate look at a public and violent period. It shows art as a crucial form of record keeping outside official history. Curator: A form of psychic record, maybe. The way it pulls on our innate need for symbolism, that longing for harmony shattered, perhaps permanently stitched into the very weave of cultural memory. Editor: I concur. I think we can walk away appreciating how profoundly personal the political can be, and conversely how powerful it can be when applied to visual tradition. It really is striking!