Seattle
Henry Art Gallery, University of Washington
“Sanctuary,” Josh Faught’s current exhibition (on view through August 3, 2025), could not be timelier given ongoing government attacks on free speech, threats to immigrants (including in sanctuary cities like Seattle), discrimination against LGBTQ+ citizens, and the withdrawal of federal funding from art institutions deemed in violation of Executive Branch policies. One year ago, the celebration of queer culture in Faught’s work was taken for granted, and applauded. But now, the Henry Art Gallery’s Board of Trustees and its director, Kris Lewis, felt it necessary to issue a statement defending curatorial independence and the autonomy of the state institution (the Henry is the oldest art museum in Washington State): “In this moment, as recent executive orders threaten fundamental rights and freedoms, we reaffirm our commitment to being a safe space where all people—especially those from marginalized communities—are seen, heard and valued.”
Centered on the huge tapestry/assemblage Sanctuary (2017), the exhibition also features examples of Faught’s recent basket and sweater works selected by senior curator Nina Bozicnik. Sanctuary was originally commissioned by Western Bridge for display at Seattle’s St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral, where its themes of safety, belonging, and connection echoed a clear message posted on the front doors: “We will reject White Nationalism. We will expose and oppose racial profiling in policing. We will work to end misogyny that enables sexism and a culture of sexual violence.”
At St. Mark’s, the 45-foot-high work hung as one towering, uninterrupted length. Here, it appears as two parallel halves, which allows for closer scrutiny, especially from the mezzanine looking down on Side B. Proceeding from conceptual art’s loaded objects, Faught has crammed and jammed pockets and slits within the woven fabric with archival queer history publications, relics, and trivia. For example, a map of Seattle gay bars and bathhouses in the 1970s is attached to the upper area of Side A, while a promotional pamphlet from the Monastery (Seattle’s all-ages gay disco held in a deconsecrated church during the same period and closed in 1985 after a City Council law forbade teens to attend any such concerts or clubs) holds a central position. Side B attachments include a 1977 party invitation to the Monastery, an anonymous gay dating service slip from the 1980s, and sheet music from the compline service at St. Mark’s (radio broadcast Sunday nights for over 50 years and organized by music director Peter Hallock, responsible for the 1965 installation of the world-famous Flentrop pipe organ). First to welcome same-sex couples in 1976, St. Mark’s is the perfect community for such contemporary archaeological excavations.
Faught is one of a number of gay textile artists who have been revitalizing the fiber art movement over the past two decades. Moving beyond the “women’s work” rubric, he twists and turns traditional techniques to conceptual ends, foregrounding the significance of handmade approaches blended with loaded levels of meaning. In Sanctuary, for example, he inserts text into a weave structure originally invented in the 18th century for reversible bed coverlets to convey messages such as “Nobody Owns Me,” “Love Never Dies,” and “Fool for Love.” Created with floor-based, hand-operated card looms as well as computer-programmed mechanisms, the work’s wide borders also draw on Indonesian ikat traditions (resist-dyed threads re-woven together in zigzag patterns). Glitzy fringes adorn the top and bottom.
Nine handwoven and painted baskets, stuffed with thrift-shop detritus (like gay bar ashtrays) and standing on bespoke pedestal cabinets, surround Sanctuary’s sprawling evocation of community. These single works act as surrogates for an older generation of gay men, some of whom became victims of AIDS, hence the colored spots and dots symbolizing symptomatic skin cancers. Densely packed with nostalgic memorabilia, the basket sculptures cohere into imaginary portraits (or self-portraits, as Faught noted in an interview) composed of campy DVDs, cheesy paperback novels, found lewd photographs, and absurd pre-AIDS gay self-help manuals.
In a second body of work, Faught debuts his contribution to queer couture with examples from his Center for Experimental Sweaters—handknit wool vests and pullovers produced in limited editions (four to 10 each) that conform to the artist’s measurements. Available from his studio, the sweaters feature various encoded motifs, including pansies, pretzels, lavender buds, and a lit candle (Vigil, 2024) to wear to protest marches or memorials. Handsomely executed, they activate the wearer while returning Faught’s work to the centrality of the male body.
