The New Body: A Conversation with Lena Ruth Schwartz and Defne Tutus

From Left: Lena Ruth Schwartz, Caitlin Reid, Defne Tutus at Tempest Gallery's exhibition, The New Body.

By CAITLIN REID October, 24 2024

When I first stepped into Tempest Gallery, I was immediately captivated by the hand-crocheted garments on display. They weren’t just static sculptures but dynamic forms that seemed to radiate life, each steady with its own corporeal presence. These extraordinary pieces are the heart of The New Body, a recent exhibition by Lena Ruth Schwartz, curated by Defne Tutus and Chris Baker.

I met Tutus and Schwartz at the gallery to learn about the origins of these remarkable garments, the curatorial vision behind the exhibition, as well as Tempest itself. Here's our conversation, edited for clarity and length.

CR: Lena, could you introduce us to your artistic practice and the themes that shape your work?

LRS: LRS: Sure, I’m a fiber artist working in tapestry weaving, crochet, wearable performance and song. My work describes tender portraiture, anatomical anxiety, and nature. This show, The New Body, encapsulates my years of chronic pain in my hands, culminating in a piece also titled The New Body– because my old body wasn’t doing me any good anymore.

Schwartz speaking about her work, at right, The New Body.

CR: That’s beautiful. Can I ask what your thoughts or relationship to the work were before the installation? And what have you learned from the process of showing the work? 

LRS: As the maker, I didn't quite know how to exhibit fiber art. Before, I mostly thought of the body as the canvas, and I could use it in my performances—that was kind of where my head was at. Hanging it makes me see it as more than just something to wear or look at.

CR: Since the work has never been displayed like this before, what do you think the piece is trying to convey in this new context? To me, it feels like another body in the room.

LRS: Yeah, so it’s interesting because when we were about two weeks away from the installation, some pieces weren’t quite finished yet– I was in the process of finalizing everything. I added wire because I realized it needed that structure to maintain its form. That's when it started to look like a physical body.

CR: Totally. This display gives the piece an independence of the performer it would otherwise be worn upon. Now it feels self-animated.

DT: Exactly! It feels like it has a soul. Sometimes I sense emotions in it, and I think that’s why people stop and engage. They recognize something in it, imagining it as a living entity. 

Close up of A New Body, Lena Ruth Schwartz, 2024.

CR: I can definitely see that. When people relate to this piece, what emotions do you think they feel? Where does that connection come from?

DT: I think it’s an incredibly familiar feeling. This new body embodies both Lena and not-Lena. It appears vulnerable and human, facing the world with openness to people's gazes and reactions. Sometimes people jump back when they first see it, as if they’re surprised by its presence

LRS: It definitely has a presence. Creating it was an emotional journey for me. When I was working on it, I felt powerful, reclaiming parts of myself that had been diminished by pain and identity struggles. Building this piece became a way of rebuilding myself.

CR: That's incredible. I know artists often pick things up and put them down in the process of creation. It sounds like your hand's nerve pain has made that process more profound for you.

LRS: Absolutely. I’ve learned a lot about how pain is connected to the brain, not just the physical body. At first, I was stressed and in pain, feeling like I was failing. This pain disrupted my sense of self as a creative. I realized that fear could prolong pain, so I started to let it happen without judgment. When I stopped observing my pain so intensely, I began to view it differently, almost like it wasn’t a negative force anymore.

Nightmare at the Bottom of Your Knitting Bag, Lena Ruth Schwartz, 2024.

CR: That's such an important lesson. How would you compare the different bodily or spirit forces between the three pieces? How do you refer to them? Are they garments, costumes, art objects, wearables, or visual art?

LRS: It’s interesting because they’re on the line between sculpture, garment, and textiles.

DT: Because they’re totally wearable! They were meant to be worn by you, products of the physical preparation and the meditative thoughts you have about healing and your body. I’m really glad we decided to include all three. Initially, I thought two would have this back-and-forth communication, but this third ghostly main dress adds a global movement.

CR: Yeah, [Rain Dress] feels so distinct and in motion, whereas the other two seem more suspended. They have the capacity to move but are standing somewhat rigidly, while this one implies movement and has a dynamic quality.

LRS: Absolutely! It shows what textiles can do; the possibilities are endless.

Rain Dress, Lena Ruth Schwartz, 2024.

CR: Defne, what inspired you to establish your new gallery, and how did it come to life?

DT: Tempest started from a few years of curatorial projects that I’ve been involved in with my partner, Chris Baker, who’s a sculptor. While co-curating with other artists in my community, Chris and I always felt sad when a show would end and we’d have to leave the space. We wanted to put our labor and ideas to work for a slightly larger period of time and create a space where multiple ideas or disciplines could intersect, tussle, and layer. So that was the genesis of Tempest.

CR: Is there a particular kind of art or artist you want to showcase, or a vision that you're trying to communicate through your curatorial practice?

DT: Well, both Chris and I are artists, so we're definitely not starting from a blank slate. We have our own subjectivities when inviting artists to show here, focusing on textile art, sculpture, and installation—because that’s what we do. We're obviously focusing on artists whose methods deeply interest us, we closely examine their work. Those curiosities are fed through the process of getting the artwork in here and installing it. It’s like a mystery to me, in a way, because we put out a request, a hypothesis—suggesting something to the artists about what we’d like to see them bring in–– but what they do bring in is something we have no control over. 

CR:  That's incredible. Was there anything that surprised you about this show? 

DT: What's really surprising is the reactions of children, families—people that did not really have an interest in this space before. People now popping their heads in are saying, “Oh my God, I crochet!” or “What is this knitting? What is this?” You know, the curiosity, the connection, the loss of shyness or that boundary that's usually at the gallery door—it’s like it kind of dropped. People are like, “Oh, I get this. I’m familiar with this. My grandma does this, or my mom does this, or I do this.” So that has been really surprising; it’s been an amazing part of showing this work.

CR: That is so beautiful. It’s approachable, it’s not intimidating—perhaps not intimidating in the way that some other works might feel.

DT: Exactly.

LRS: In terms of approachability, I'm much more drawn to something tangible and emotional, something emotionally rooted rather than something so heady and conceptual that it doesn't really make sense until you read so much about it. I want something that you come in, see it, and get something immediately from it without needing to know what it's about or read theory.

DT: You already know what it's about. As a body, we're all intimately familiar with what textile is from the moment we're born.

Hand-felted wall pieces from Schwartz's residency in Iceland in 2023.

CR: Do you feel like there were any lessons that came from this process? What are the things that are going to propel you into the next curatorial project?

DT: I think you learn so many lessons, but I'm not even sure if they become useful the next time because there are always new challenges. Each artwork is so unique and specific.

CR: Do you thrive on that? Having a new challenge every time?

DT: I don't know if I thrive on it! There's this meme that Chris and I love which says, "We did this not because it was easy, but because we thought it would be easy." [laughter] That's us in a nutshell. WM

Tempest Gallery is located at 1642 Weirfield St in Ridgewood, New York.