New Work by Eleanor Burkett for UNmaking

Ahead of the Textile Study Groups exhibition Unmaking in Stroud, Eleanor Burkett tells us about her work, the inspirations that shape her textiles, and what viewers can expect to experience when the exhibition opens.

Echoes and Whispers: UnMaking a sheet of paper

For the theme UnMaking I took something apart; not as a destructive act but as a journey of discovery in order to reform and repurpose it.  

As is customary with my work, I often use paper which has been discarded for one reason or another, paper which has a narrative that I wish to incorporate in some way. In this instance I was given a thick sheet of washi paper on which a Japanese calligrapher friend had been testing how to capture the name of her grandson in brushed cursive script. Part of the sheet had been cut away, and although to a Western eye the calligraphy looked beautiful I knew I had been given the paper to use in some way, not to retain as it was. 

Thick washi is made from thinner sheets which are dried together as one, so I tentatively peeled them apart as I had been doing with other sheets to see what was revealed underneath. I wanted to experiment making twisted threads from the thinner layers of paper. Underneath revealed a subtle ghost image of the calligraphy where some of the sumi ink had bled through both sheets. I cut the paper into strips and twisted, rubbed and rolled them into thread; as I wove a new surface, I endeavoured to retain an echo of the original whilst creating something new. The sumi ink directly affected my handling of that layer of paper, and, as it was difficult to roll into thread, I hand twisted it.  The lighter side however was more pliable and fluid and I chose not to twist the strips at all in order to reveal the delicate marks on the paper. I ‘wove’ the strips in the order they were cut, in order to retain something of the original script.    

 These pieces contain whispers and echoes of the tradition of making kami-ito, paper thread, and a personal narrative. Close involvement in processes dictated and shaped the final outcome and a new iteration was formed through the process of unmaking. 

In Conversation with  Eleanor Burkett 

Washi paper has such a rich heritage. How did working with this paper compare to other repurposed papers you have handled?

Many Japanese papers are sold as ‘washi’, although the word washi—which translates as Japanese paper—is, strictly speaking, paper made in the traditional way from one of three plant fibres: kozo, mitsumata, and gampi. From past experience and many failures, I know that paper with wood pulp added to it won’t withstand some of the processes I use, so I often choose to use a natural paper made from the inner bark (bast) of kozo (paper mulberry). I know the papermakers and have seen them at work. They follow a sustainable process with no bleaching or chemicals added to the pulp, and because of the length of the fibres, their paper is strong.

In the case of repurposed paper, I may not know its source or properties, and each piece will behave differently. I might take a calculated risk based on the ‘feel’ of the paper or test it first for tensile strength. If I can roll a sliver of paper into a ‘thread’ between my finger and thumb and it doesn’t break easily when tugged, it is likely to be strong enough to make into paper thread. Paper that cannot be made into thread might be used for collage or mixed media pieces, with more testing to see how it behaves when treated in various ways. Adapting outcomes according to the materials I use is an integral part of my practice, and as I handle paper and see how it behaves, ideas are generated.

You adapted your technique based on how the sumi ink altered the paper's texture. How much of your practice relies on this kind of intuitive response to the material as you work?

Some decisions may seem intuitive, but are usually a result of frequent handling of paper and an understanding of what gives different papers their distinctive quality. For Echoes and Whispers, the warp thread needed to be strong, and whilst it withstood the rigorous processes required to create threads, the deep black colour of the ink was dulled as a result. A response to this was to hand-roll the weft thread. As the paper was heavily loaded with sumi ink, the resulting weft ‘threads’ felt crisper and harder to handle in some respects, but this was an essential decision in order to retain the rich black of the sumi ink.

The sheet underneath, on the other hand, revealed a subtle ghost image of the calligraphy where, in places, the sumi ink had bled through both sheets, and this triggered a different sequence of decisions. As there was less ink on this paper, it was more pliable and fluid, and I chose not to twist the strips at all so that the delicate marks remained visible. 

The title Echoes and Whispers captures the subtle remnants of the original script. How do you hope viewers interact with those hidden layers and quiet details in the finished piece?

I hope that viewers will be intrigued and fascinated by these pieces. The ink blot and brushstroke at the margin edge suggest that there is a connection between the two. Engagement is heightened with the realisation that they are crafted from a single sheet of paper; the remnants of the original script appear through a rich trace of subtle marks in contrast to the deep black and crisp woven network of the other. Even without this understanding, I trust that the work speaks of the materials and process I use and serves as a celebration of paper as a textile medium.

By referencing kami-ito (paper thread), your work connects to a deep historical tradition. How did learning about or practising this tradition influence the way you approached this specific piece?

My work and the processes I often return to connect to the Japanese traditions of making kami-ito (paper thread) and other paper textile techniques practised in the past, which I learnt during time living in NE Japan. In a time when the use of paper was widespread, and as a process borne of necessity, kami-ito was often made from discarded papers such as old ledgers. I am fascinated by what can be hidden within the twists of paper and what is suggested in flecks of script or the colour of the paper.

As I work, I recall a legend related to me of spies who wrote secrets on cut and twisted paper thread which was woven into shifu (woven paper cloth) to escape the notice of enemies before later being unravelled. Stories of things concealed and revealed have influenced the way I approached these pieces, whilst the history of repurposing a precious commodity fuses personal narratives.

Exhibition Details

Experience the full Unmaking exhibition at Stroud's Museum in the Park, featuring a series of workshops led by our featured artists, including Eleanor. 

• Exhibition: UNmaking
• Dates: 12 September – 8 November 2026
• Location: Museum in the Park, Stroud
• Admission: Free