behind the frame: a collaboration between wood and fiber
When people look at my work, their eyes usually go to the knots, the weaves, the textures. That makes sense, textiles carry movement, softness, and emotion. But what most people don’t realise is that most of my pieces exist without their weaving frames. Every single one is made by hand, crafted by my partner Prash from certified sustainable wood.
The frame isn’t an afterthought. It’s part of the artwork itself.
how it all began
In the early days, I was creating in our London living room, playing and coming up with new concepts, like the Strata Series.
I remember hanging them on the wall and feeling proud but I felt like they needed more. The textiles felt alive in my hands, I loved working on this concept and how it looked, but once displayed they seemed unfinished somehow. I realised they needed a structure that could hold them with the same care I had poured into the fibers.
We tried shop-bought frames, but they never matched my vision. The sizes were wrong and the quality poor. But the answer was right in front of us! Prash, who has always been a skilled woodworker, decided to make one himself. The first weaving frames attempts were experiments, but they had something no store-bought option could offer: intention. And from there, our collaboration was born.
crafting frames by hand
Today, Prash works in his own workshop, just steps away from my studio. His process begins with choosing wood from a local supplier that only uses certified sustainable sources. Oak and walnut are his favourites, each with their own weight, grain, and character. Oak feels grounded and strong, walnut is warm and rich.
Once the wood is selected, he brings it to his workshop to cut and plane each piece from scratch. There are no shortcuts: every joint is carefully measured, every surface sanded until smooth. He finishes the frames with a natural wax, allowing the wood to breathe and age beautifully instead of being sealed under harsh varnish.
We work closely together. I design the textile with a certain scale in mind usually depending on a client brief, and he builds to precise dimensions so the frame and fiber can grow into one another. Sometimes we test different depths. A shallow frame for a flat tapestry, or a deeper box-style frame for more layered textures. The result is a harmony of material and form.
why frames matter in textile art
Frames are often seen as borders, but to us, they do so much more.
Protection: They keep the fibers stretched, secure, and protected over time. Cotton and wool can move with humidity, but a good frame gives stability.
Presentation: A frame changes how the work is read. It turns fabric into artwork, giving it presence on the wall and helping it interact with light and shadow.
Integration with space: The tone of the wood can either contrast with or echo the textile, connecting the piece to the room it inhabits.
Longevity: Handmade frames built from solid wood will outlast cheaper alternatives. They ensure the artwork becomes an heirloom, not something temporary.
And then there are pieces that I’ve created that wouldn’t work at all without their frames.
Take my Kintsugi Series, for example. These works rely on tension. Spaces intentionally left open, echoing the Japanese philosophy of beauty in imperfection. Without the frame, that tension would disappear the moment the textile left the loom and the whole piece warps as you can see on the first two pictures below. The frame holds it, not just physically but conceptually, allowing the “cracks” to stay elegant, weightless, and alive.
Or my Moments Series, where Prash surprised me with bent walnut veneer frames he had been experimenting with. He simply handed them over and said: “Get creative.” And I did. I ended up wrapping my work around those frames in a way that made them inseparable, the textile and the frame woven into one form. In that case, my artwork couldn’t exist without his frame. It was collaboration at its most literal and most exciting.
the power of collaboration
This collaboration is about more than just wood and fiber. It’s about trust and shared vision. While I knot and weave, Prash measures and sands; while I work with texture and flow, he works with weight and precision. Side by side, our practices feed into each other.
What began as Prash making me frames has slowly become something more. Behind the scenes, our practices are evolving into a conversation. Wood influencing fiber, fiber influencing wood. Sometimes I start with a vision and he builds around it; other times he presents me with a new frame design that pushes me in directions I hadn’t imagined.
Little by little, it’s becoming less about “my textile + his frame” and more about something we are creating together. We’re not only merging our mediums but also our styles. Mine rooted in organic shapes and fluid movement, his grounded in geometry and structure. The tension between those two approaches is becoming the spark for new work.
Though I can’t say too much yet, we’re working on ideas that blur the lines between textile art and woodworking in ways that feel brand new.
More on that soon 😉
more than art
When someone takes home one of our artworks, they’re not just collecting a textile. They’re also bringing with them Prash’s craftsmanship, his hours of shaping and sanding, and our shared commitment to making something that will last.
Behind every knot there is a frame.
Behind every frame, there is a story.
And behind that story, there’s us. Two sets of hands working together to create something greater than either of us could make alone.