CATALOGUE

INFO

Kelsey Merreck

Please share a bit about yourself and your background.

I'm an artist based in the United States, with a BA in Studio Arts, where my focus was on printmaking and ceramics. After graduating, I spent several years working with both mediums. I completed my final semester of art school in Florence, Italy, immersing myself in ceramics. Shortly after, I secured a ceramics studio position in Certaldo, Italy, where I continued developing my practice.

Upon returning to the U.S., I settled in Chicago and shifted my focus back to printmaking, largely due to the availability of studio space. I exhibited my work in curated group shows, and had my first solo exhibition in 2017. My artistic journey has consistently revolved around environmental themes, as I believe art and craft can be accessible and impactful tools for addressing pressing social and ecological concerns. One of my earliest major projects was centred on elephant conservation, drawing from research I conducted in Thailand. For that project, I created life-sized elephants through a combination of printmaking and sewing, which were featured in my debut solo exhibit. It was also in 2017 that I began experimenting with fibre arts and weaving. A community festival introduced me to the craft when I came across a fibre guild demonstrating spinning and weaving techniques. This encounter led me to take free classes at a local community centre, and although I initially saw weaving as a side project, I soon began to explore its potential.

During the COVID pandemic, when access to traditional art supplies was limited, I started weaving with recycled materials I had around my home, such as plastic bags. This period of experimentation allowed me to reimagine my approach to fibre arts, connecting it back to my environmental focus. The shift was met with positive feedback, as I began showcasing my weaving in both group shows and solo exhibitions, and eventually, my practice fully transitioned into fibre arts and weaving.

Your practice aims to foster dialogue on the urgent need for environmental stewardship and sustainable practices, addressing issues like plastic pollution, consumption, capitalism, and human impact on the environment. What early motivations led you to address these issues within your practice?

Since undergrad, my work has always centred on environmental issues. In printmaking, I explored the idea that humans are the real invasive species—taking over environments, causing harm, and disrupting ecosystems. As someone who cares deeply about animals and nature, I often reflect on the impact we’re having on both. That connection has been a central theme in my work from the beginning. I never wanted my art to just be pretty; it needed to provoke thought and challenge ways of thinking. Research is a huge part of my process. As a research-driven artist, I find that there’s a wealth of important information that can be used to communicate through art. Especially now, in a time when the planet seems to be in crisis, it feels critical to raise awareness through work that’s accessible to others. Art has a unique power to make complex or dense issues more understandable, particularly when it comes to something like climate change, where misinformation or a lack of understanding persists. I believe that art can really make people reconsider how they live, and the role we play in the world we share with each other and with other living beings.

As I reflect on what brought me to this point, I’ve always been fascinated by elephants, ever since I was a child. Both of my grandmothers and my mother nurtured this love, and it was such a significant part of my life growing up. But I always struggled with subjects like science and maths, so I never thought I could pursue anything related to conservation or biology. Instead, I went down a different path, earning a master’s degree in Sustainability & the Arts at Appalachian State University. During my master’s program, however, I found a way to combine these interests when I began researching in Thailand. I ended up volunteering at Elephant Nature Park in Chiang Mai, a sanctuary for elephants rescued from entertainment or logging industries. This experience opened my eyes to the broader field of conservation and made me realise that it isn’t just scientists who make a difference—educators, community leaders, activists, and artists all play a part. That realisation sparked my first printmaking show focused on elephant conservation.

From there, I began to delve more deeply into environmental issues, using my art as a platform for education and activism. When considering new projects, I wanted to shift focus to plastic pollution. That’s how I was inspired to start the weaving work I mentioned earlier, which continues to explore these themes.

Your education spans multiple academic disciplines. You've earned a B.A. in Studio Arts (printmaking) from Western Michigan University, an M.A. in Cultural Studies & Sustainability (community-engaged arts) from Appalachian State University, and you´re currently doing a PhD in Anthropology (environmental art and activism) at Michigan State University. How do you think this background has shaped your view of crafts?

During my bachelor’s, I first got immersed in art-making and art history, focusing on printmaking and ceramics. It’s funny because my program didn’t offer fibre or textile courses, so I didn’t explore those until years after graduation. During that time, I interned at a book arts centre, learning bookbinding, which involves sewing. This sparked my interest in embroidering on paper, blending printmaking and sewing in my early work. I always wanted to explore fibre arts but didn’t have the resources initially. After graduating, I taught art to kids in Chicago and later moved to Spain to teach English in Barcelona and Sevilla. When I decided to pursue a master’s, I wanted a research-focused degree, not an MFA. That led me to Appalachian State’ University's Sustainability & the Arts program. While there, I co-curated an exhibit on Black Mountain College, a space known for its interdisciplinary approach to art and research, which really shaped my interest in how art can engage with communities.

Another master’s project involved working with a conservation group to clean up the New River. We organised community cleanups and raised awareness about pollution, culminating in an exhibition where we recreated the river’s shape with trash we collected. This experience marked the beginning of my interest in community-engaged arts. Later, it inspired me to weave with plastic and trash—free art supplies that also helped clean the environment.

This degree influenced me both as a researcher and an artist. I later moved to Cambodia to work at a natural history museum, designing exhibits and collaborating with artists. While there, I applied for Ph.D. programs, choosing the Anthropology department at Michigan State University to explore the broader context of environmental art and fieldwork. I am now a Ph.D. candidate in my sixth year and have been involved in several projects, including co-curating an exhibit on environmental art in Southeast Asia with my advisor. One significant project involved working with weavers in Northern Thailand along the Mekong River. We conducted workshops and interviews to understand how weaving practices have changed due to capitalism and globalisation. It was inspiring to explore the tradition of weaving passed down through generations, and I loved the feminist aspect of these craft practices.

For my dissertation, I’ve interviewed over 40 artists in Thailand who focus on environmental issues. Many of these relationships have led to collaborations, and it’s been fulfilling to connect my research with my art practice. In places like Thailand, where activism is risky, art becomes a powerful way to address issues. Through this work, I’ve learned so much about resilience and creativity, and it’s been incredibly inspiring to build connections with artists worldwide.

Please guide us through your creative process and share more about the intention you set before you start any project.

My creative process is deeply influenced by both material and intention. For example, the plastic weaving project, which began in 2019, started small, using materials from my home and a rigid heddle loom. As the project grew, I started sourcing plastic from friends, family, and local community groups. This shifted the work into a kind of ethnographic study, exploring how people interact with plastic in their daily lives. It’s been fascinating to see how this process raises awareness among those contributing, making them more conscious of their plastic use.

It’s been fascinating to see how asking people to collect plastic for me makes them more aware of how much plastic they use, beyond just grocery bags—there's so much plastic in our food packaging, online deliveries, and everyday products. This process has helped me connect with people and start conversations about consumerism and our relationship to plastic.

I also love how the weavings have become like community portraits. Instead of representing people figuratively, the materials I collect tell stories about the people who gave them to me—their shopping habits, preferences, and even their socio-economic background. For example, I’ve noticed differences based on class, gender, and ethnicity. Friends might give me bags from stores like Target or Walmart, while others provide luxury-brand packaging. Gender influences the color palettes, with more pink or purple plastics coming from beauty products or feminine care items. Even the cultural and ethnic background of those donating plastic is reflected, as certain foods or brands from their countries of origin show up in the materials they give me.

Before I begin a project, I set an intention, often tied to environmental or community themes. For my Bangkok exhibit, Threads of Change, I used plastic collected in Thailand to reflect on broader issues like climate change, mimicking the colours of the smoky season in northern Thailand. Sometimes, my approach is more intuitive and driven by aesthetics. Recently, I’ve been experimenting with new colours like pink and purple, which don’t have a specific message but still share stories about plastic. Balancing intentional, message-driven work with spontaneous exploration keeps the process dynamic while staying connected to the larger themes of environmental awareness and community.

We're aware that you run trash art and plastic weaving workshops. Could you tell us more about your teaching approach and how participants feel about working together to create publicly displayed pieces that carry a noble message?

As an arts educator and social practice artist, I truly enjoy collaborating with others who share an interest in creativity and important issues. For me, the idea of making art in community with others is powerful, as it allows us to build connections and create something meaningful together. When I think about sustainability and addressing environmental concerns, creativity plays a key role. Whether or not someone identifies as an artist, problem-solving always involves imaginative thinking. To envision a more just and sustainable future, we need to draw on our skills and passions to find solutions that positively impact humans, animals, and the environment. I love using art as a tool to empower people, encouraging them to use their creative talents to address important issues.

One of my favourite groups to work with is children. When I was living in Chicago, I taught art classes and found that kids, especially those in elementary and high school, are open and eager to experiment. They're at a point where they're starting to think about their role in the world, and I enjoy talking to them about how they can make a difference. College students also bring this same enthusiasm, which makes working with these age groups incredibly rewarding. I always emphasise the idea that everyone is an artist. You don’t need formal training to create meaningful work; if you engage with art and enjoy it, you’re already part of that world. I try to break down the barriers that prevent people from feeling proud of their creative potential. That's a core element of my workshops—reminding people that everyone can be both an artist and an activist. In the workshops, we explore the issues that matter most to participants, whether they’re environmental concerns, healthcare, food justice, or something else. Art is versatile—it can address any cause. I usually start with a short lecture where I introduce my own work and explain how art can serve as a powerful form of activism. Sharing my process is exciting, but even more rewarding is giving participants the tools to create their own projects. It’s always inspiring to see where their ideas take them, especially with kids, who have boundless creativity.

What I find most powerful about the workshops is the way they bring people together. You can take a room full of strangers and give them a collaborative art project, and by the end of the session, those strangers are laughing, connecting, and sometimes even making new friends. Art has this incredible ability to unite people, and in today’s world—where there is so much division—this sense of community is invaluable. The workshops aren't just about the final product; they’re about the process, the conversations we have, and the relationships we build. My hope is that participants leave feeling inspired, not only by the work they’ve created but by the idea that they can take action on the issues they care about, whether that’s through art or other forms of activism. Art, in so many ways, is already part of activism—whether it’s through protest signs, banners, murals, or public installations. It's not just the finished work that matters, but the process of working together, learning from each other, and realising the collective power we have to make a difference.

When it comes to the tactile aspect of your work and its connection with your body, how does the hands-on nature impact your overall happiness and well-being?

I’ve always been creative, even as a child, and making art has always been a way for me to channel that energy. I have ADHD, so my mind is often juggling many ideas at once, but art allows me to slow down and focus on a single intention or project. It feels grounding to immerse myself in that process. The physical aspect of weaving, in particular, plays a huge role in connecting my mind and body. Setting up a loom, preparing the warp, and the rhythmic motion of weaving back and forth—it’s all very physical, and I’m constantly grateful for my health and the ability to use my body in this way. Weaving has a meditative quality that really helps me process my thoughts. There are days where I’ll weave for hours, totally absorbed in the work, and I’ll lose track of time, even forgetting to eat or check emails. That kind of physical engagement gives me mental clarity and is an essential part of my self-care. It’s like I’m creating space to think while my body is engaged, and that helps me manage my mental health in a really meaningful way. When I’m not able to make art for a while—whether due to travel or other obligations—I can feel the difference in my mental state. I become more stressed or anxious. But when I’m back at it, whether weaving or teaching workshops, I’m much happier and feel like I’m living my purpose.

So, yes, the hands-on nature of my work significantly impacts my happiness and well-being. It’s like exercise for someone who wouldn’t normally be drawn to traditional workouts—it keeps me active, but in a way that feels natural and fulfilling. I think a lot of artists can relate to that sense of well-being that comes from working with their hands. It’s a way to both physically and mentally engage with the world, and for me, that’s essential to feeling balanced and happy. Thank you for asking that—I really appreciate the opportunity to reflect on how much that connection matters.

Where does the biggest potential for preserving crafts in the contemporary context lie?

I believe the biggest potential lies in building community and fostering informal education. As we discussed, traditions like weaving and skills passed down through generations, like from grandmothers, depend on the people who inspire and teach us. I’m part of a fibre arts guild where most members are at least 30 years older than me. These women have been practising for decades, working in various crafts like weaving, spinning, quilting, and knitting. I've learned so much from them—there’s always someone with advice or a solution to a problem.

I believe that sharing knowledge is crucial. If we don’t pass these skills on, they could be lost, along with the traditions tied to them. In today’s increasingly digital world, we can easily forget the value of things that take time and skill. Craft is fascinating because it’s deeply connected to history and tradition, but it also requires thinking about its future—who will continue it? For me, the greatest potential lies in relationships, friendships, and the sharing of these practices. I feel a responsibility to pass on what I’ve learned to younger generations, just as I’ve benefited from others sharing with me.

What upcoming projects are you excited about right now?

At the moment, I’m working on several large-scale weavings for group exhibits, all focused on environmental art. I also have a few commissions in progress. One of the most exciting is for the Center for Marine Science at the University of North Carolina-Wilmington. They’ve commissioned a large blue and green weaving for their lobby, and I’ll be incorporating materials they provide, such as discarded fishing nets, old life jackets, scuba diving suits, and ropes. It’s a meaningful project because the artwork aligns with their environmental conservation efforts, not just as decoration but as a reflection of their work. I was recently awarded the City of Raleigh, North Carolina’s SEEK Fellowship. For this project, I will be creating large-scale weavings that will be installed at the Abbots Creek Park Community Center. I will be sourcing plastic and trash through environmental clean-ups in the area, as well as facilitating trash weaving workshops for kids.

Last December, I was the Artist-in-Residence at the Jim Thompson Art on the Farm festival, in Korat, Thailand. The Jim Thompson Foundation includes the Jim Thompson Museum, Jim Thompson Art Center, Jim Thompson Farm, and Jim Thompson Hand-Weaving Studios and Silk Factory. I have created to commissioned pieces for the residency using plastics bags along with textile scraps from the factory and hand-weaving studios. During the residency, I was on-site, weaving and facilitating collaborative weaving projects.