Crafting Community: The Essential Role of Connection in Contemporary Craft

In a sunlit gallery at Toast, a cultural hub in New York's Meatpacking District, six panelists gathered in October to discuss community's role in contemporary craft. Beneath the warm hues of hand-dyed quilts from artist Audrey Louise Reynolds, the conversation flowed through collaboration, shared knowledge, and economic sustainability.

Faye Toogood, a British designer known for her furniture and installations, opened the panel by recounting the origins of her "Roly-Poly" chair (2014), now part of the Philadelphia Museum of Art's collection. "This piece wouldn’t exist without the potters I worked with in Stoke-on-Trent," Toogood explained. "Their techniques shaped the chair, not just its form but its spirit." She emphasized how studio practices often depend on informal networks of craftspeople and suppliers.

Kahlil Irving, a Brooklyn-based ceramicist, moderated the panel. "Artists and makers are using collaboration as integral to how they approach craft," Irving said. He highlighted ceramic artist Magdalene Odundo’s mentorship of Kenyan and British makers, calling her influence "a template for intergenerational connection." Odundo’s work, celebrated in retrospectives like The Journey of Things at The Hepworth Wakefield (2019), exemplifies craft as a medium for cultural transmission.

Economic precarity in the craft sector was a recurring topic. "Resilience is built socially," said LaChaun Moore, a fibre artist and indigo farmer from South Carolina. Moore collaborates with regional weavers to produce textiles for international markets, articulating the challenge of sustaining craft practices without collective resources. She co-founded Indigo Women, a cooperative that pools equipment and knowledge among rural fibre artists. Moore noted that while digital marketplaces like Etsy enable global reach, "it’s the community infrastructure—sharing looms, sharing space—that keeps us operational."

The role of institutions in fostering craft was also debated. While Toast has attracted praise for hosting events that foster dialogue among designers and artists, several panelists raised concerns about access and equity. "These spaces can feel closed off to people without established networks," said Jae Widdis, a queer textile artist who exhibited at the inaugural Chicago Craft Biennial. Widdis advocated for a grassroots approach, citing The Guild of Craft in Detroit, which offers pay-what-you-can workshops.

The discussion addressed how shifting aesthetics interact with community-driven craft. Hiroki Takahashi, a Japanese master woodworker, highlighted the tension between tradition and innovation. "Young makers in Japan are redefining what wabi-sabi means," Takahashi said. "It’s still about imperfection, but it’s also about questioning who defines beauty." He noted the influence of African textile patterns in his recent collaborations with Ugandan design studio Studio KAWO.

By the session’s end, the panelists converged around one shared insight: community is a method and a mindset. Irving summarized it succinctly. "Whether it’s sharing resources, stories, or skills, community is the form we return to when everything else—funding, access to materials, even recognition—feels fragile."

For attendees like textile scholar Dr. Lucia Pardo, the panel reminded them of craft’s collaborative nature. "The myth of the solitary maker is persistent but inaccurate," Pardo said afterwards, referencing her recent paper for the Journal of Modern Craft. "This conversation made visible what most craft historians already know: connection is part of the making process itself."

The quilts overhead during the discussion were emblematic. Reynolds, who works outdoors to allow nature to influence her dyeing process, often invites local residents into her sessions. "The hand is personal, but the work is communal," she has said in past interviews.

The challenge lies in scaling these intimate networks without diluting their purpose. Moore acknowledged this tension during the Q&A. "There’s an idea that scaling up means losing the soul of what you’ve built," she said. "But I think the answer is to scale sideways—to keep connecting horizontally, not vertically."

As the panel dispersed, attendees lingered in small clusters, exchanging contact details and tracing the intricate patterns on Reynolds’ quilts. The energy in the room underscored what the discussion had made clear: craft is about the connections forged in making. In an era of increasing precarity, those connections are the craft sector’s greatest resource.