Diana Weymar: Art as Resistance & The Power of a Sewing Needle
By Dr. Amy Bryzgel, Teaching Professor of Art History at Northeastern University
As TikTok clips and memes become viral in the social media age, the handmade stands out as something that takes labor, time, and care to produce. The tension between these two—the quick digital and the slow handmade image—is brought to the fore in Diana Weymar’s Tiny Pricks Project. The work exists as a hand-stitched “archive” of problematic phrases from Donald Trump’s presidency. His pithy yet unforgettable quick one-liners are forever preserved for posterity in needlepoint, the care with which the crafter made the piece standing in stark contrast to his careless, casual speech. Remember how Trump once told the world that he “could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody,” and he wouldn’t lose voters? Well, that unforgettable line is now preserved on a white handkerchief with two pistols, bullets flying from them, on a background of delicate blue flowers (Andrea Honore, #TinyPricks230).
The Tiny Pricks Project started with one quote: “I am a very stable genius,” which Weymar stitched into an abandoned piece of her grandmother’s needlepoint. She posted it on Instagram and it was well received, so she decided to stitch one Trump quote per week. The former President offered no shortage of material, and soon friends and others were joining in, in what Weymar called “the largest textile Trump protest EVER.” The project has amassed over 4,000 pieces, all of which Weymar has in her possession. To be part of the project, participants had to agree to not only create the piece, but also send it to her, and then it was photographed and posted to social media. This public art project is now available to the public through two channels: the project’s Instagram account when the physical pieces are exhibited in real life.
Diana Weymar, Tiny Pricks Project. Image courtesy of ShowUp.
Textiles, historically, were a media of resistance. Sewing, stitching, needlework—these had long been considered “lesser” art forms, or “craft,” as opposed to “high art.” This is because it was typically the white male artists who ran the art academies where painting and sculpture was taught, usually exclusively to men. It was men that eventually came to shape the discipline of art history, which also valued these media as “high art,” because they were produced by men. But during the time of enslavement, seamstresses used special patterns in their quilts to indicate safe houses on the Underground Railroad. In the 1960s and 70s, the Civil Rights and Feminist movements transformed these media traditionally used by women, such as needlepoint and quilting, to insist upon their recognition as art. Faith Ringgold, for example, created painted story quilts, and artists such as Miriam Shapiro and Judy Chicago used stitching and fabric in their work.
Since that time, mixed media is an acceptable approach to art-making, and many artists use a range of materials and approaches, including those traditionally considered “craft,” and the hierarchies in the visual arts, whereby painting and sculpture occupied the top of the pedestal, have faded. Artists can choose from a range of materials because, also since the mid-20th century, the idea or concept of the work of art has often taken precedence over the form. What is more, with the advent of socially engaged art, where the artist involves everyday members of the public, this means that ordinary individuals can also become a part of an art project, and can be an artist.
Diana Weymar, Tiny Pricks Project. Courtesy of ShowUp.
But a protest such as this, which takes quips and one-liners that are circulated through videos and memes and gives them weight and permanence by turning them into physical, hand-crafted objects might seem to immortalize these sayings that many have come to associate with the worst of society. In the center of a very delicate scallop-edged square, embroidered with a series of roses and greenery, sits the words “Grab ‘em by the pussy,” with the red thread hanging down from the word pussy (Amy Marcus, #TinyPricks301). For me, this suggests the vomit coming out of our mouths as we heard it, or the melting of our collective souls. The piece is delicately crafted, immortalizing those disgusting words. So one might ask: doesn’t this only preserve and protect these statements by Trump, giving them the weight of a fine art work? That may be the case, but what usually makes a work of art good is its ambiguity. Indeed, there may be those who see these “tiny pricks” and believe that the artists are supportive of the former President—in fact, the artist has stated on the project website that Trump supporters may participate in it. Still others will see the pieces for what I believe the artists intended—an ironic dig at Trump and his words. And it is important to note that as the project evolved, it came to include other speakers, such as James Comey, Nikki Hailey and Stormy Daniels. But it is precisely the ambiguity that makes the project effective as an artistic protest. A political protest would take a clear side, and would polarize viewers or observers. An artistic protest, however, still leaves room for discussion and discovery.
Diana Weymar, Tiny Pricks Project. Image courtesy of ShowUp.
That said, the Instagram account for the project disappeared one day—on the day of an opening of the exhibition of the project at Lingua Franca in New York City. While some might say it was a glitch, others may see in this what social media has become—a place to silence those we disagree with or take offense to (although to this day the artist has no idea what happened to the account, but thankfully it was later restored). But the nature of this project means that even if the digital copies disappear, the hard copies will remain. Even with an art project in the digital age, it is a good idea to have back-ups!
Stay tuned for Weymar's upcoming exhibition, Material Progress, opening in September, 2024!