Josh Faught @ Kendall Koppe

Review by Adam Benmakhlouf | 10 Nov 2014

There’s a familiar attraction to Josh Faught’s textile work: that of the well arranged colour palette of a high street shop. Even though there are only seven works, in the density of their weave and the weight that is connoted by the way they shrug against the wall, it feels like enough wool to make a mall's worth of knits.

The deep purple, rich dark blues, and burnt oranges all speak to a certain maudlin romanticism. Yet their sincerity is given a sharp edge by their selection from Panatone colour projection, designed for marketing decision-making. Just the same coolness as the humour of the badges that are pinned on the fabric works throughout the show. 'Just when I thought I was winning the rat race more rats showed up,' says one.  

With their handles, they could be political banners, except they’re knitted. So slowly made, there’s attention to detail that slows down any potential revolution. At the same time, their authenticity comes through most in the hanging threads. There’s the ambivalence of a reluctant revolutionary that slows down his descent to the street by knitting all of his banners. And homage to domestic space, clocks, leather bound books and striped cats. 

All of this labour, though, speaks against an easy cynicism. There might be a cool irony perceived in the mantle clocks, cats and leathbound books. Yet there’s a seriousness of intent, as it seems almost impossible to sustain an ironic gesture through the entire weaving or crocheting process.

There’s a hurdle to seeing the last piece of Faught’s installation. Through the partition between the gallery and gallerists – overheard, as they negotiate emails and online portfolios – is Interiors, the final handwoven hemp. It’s necessary to interrupt the administrative workspace, the request to be excused taking away any opportunity for a passive, comfortable blasé nonchalance.