Essay
The Sewing Machine in the Studio
There is a sewing machine in the AIR studio that has been running almost every day for more than a decade. Not as a prop. Not as a workshop tool. As a production instrument.
The founder of AIR is a textile artist. His embroidered works — which he calls paintings — are produced in this studio by a team of Balinese artisans using freehand machine embroidery, hand stitching, quilting, cutting, and dyeing. The works have shown at the Centre Pompidou and galleries across Europe. They are made here, in a jungle studio overlooking rice paddies, on a machine that sounds like a quiet hum when the needle hits the fabric.
Guests work alongside this production. Not as students — as fellow makers. Many guests who arrive with no textile experience end up spending time in the studio. Not because they planned to — because the sound draws them in, the material is available, and the artisans are generous with their knowledge. A software developer from San Francisco learned basic embroidery in an afternoon and produced a piece she still has framed in her office.
This is what we mean by "an active production space, not a showroom." The work happening here is real. The dust on the cutting table is real. The thread on the floor is real. If you want to participate, you are welcome. If you want to watch, you are welcome. If you want to close your door and never enter the studio — also welcome.
The sewing machine will be here either way.