Victoria Villasana: The textile artist weaving stories

A fascination with the past and history repeating itself led Victoria Villasana to create bright, stunning work from vintage photographs and yarn

Curious things happen when you apply threads of brightly coloured yarn to black and white photographs. A peasant woman becomes an empowered goddess, cultural icons look ablaze with creative genius, authority figures suddenly look rebellious, funky or even downright ridiculous. Mexican-born Victoria Villasana’s nimble needle has been transforming vintage photographs since 2014 – her disruptive, thought-provoking work has appeared everywhere from the Saatchi Gallery to tequila bottles to random street corners in South London.

How did you start out creating your art?

I was always a closet artist – although I studied design instead of art. In 2014 I was in London working as a stylist, which I enjoyed, but something was missing. Everything I created had to follow a strict brief and I wanted to do my own thing. So in my spare time I started making collages with the fashion magazines I had lying around at home.

Then I started to incorporate heavy textile thread – I think that’s my Mexican heritage coming through. Textiles are very big in Mexico; our indigenous cultures have been using it for millennia.

I really wanted to do something bold – I like things bright and colourful, also a very Mexican thing! My memories of home were of big, colourful markets and bright dresses. I didn’t want to make the patterns overtly ethnic though, as I didn’t want to be guilty of cultural appropriation – so I kept things geometric and modern.

When did it become more than just a hobby?

I didn’t see this as a career at all. I was just playing around, learning about the materials more as I went and creating all this art that was just sitting in my desk drawer.

I was living in East Dulwich at the time and one day I saw this guy in my street putting up a little paste-up [a form of street art where the piece is pasted onto a wall rather than painted directly onto it]. I love street art but had always thought of it as big murals – for the first time it occurred to me that I could do it too. So I just put something up – a picture of a guy embroidered with the words ‘Find your way’. People seemed to like the work; it’s kind of feminine, a little bit 3D and the yarn moves around in the wind. They’re very ephemeral pieces; I’m lucky if they last more than six months.

Did this lead to wider recognition?

I started making more political work about refugees. It attracted photographers and bloggers, and as the community got to know about my work they started to tag me or ask me to collaborate. After that, the commissions came in.

When did vintage photographs become part of your work?

I’ve always loved history and old things. When I lived in London, I spent a lot of time exploring the charity shops and vintage stores and at first I started looking around for old postcards, but I came to realise there were other artists working with those in a similar way and I wanted to do something different. Then people started asking me to work with portraits of pop culture icons. For me, a lot of my work is looking to the past and adding something modern. That’s why I started to combine mediums that don’t normally mix – photography, which is very contemporary, and textiles, that’s very ancient.

Where do you get your ideas from?

I like going into the past, exploring it and making a new version. For example, I was a bit annoyed that you hardly see anything in the history books about the female Mexican revolutionaries – the soldaderas – and decided to create a tribute. As I was researching that I got another idea and ended up creating two series – one about the soldaderas and another celebrating the human spirit. I found pictures of people hugging, dancing, making funny faces.

The more you look into the past the more you find that we’re constantly dealing with the same problems and arguments. But the same positive stories keep resonating as well – we’re still dancing and hugging. We really don’t change.

How would you describe your creative process?

It’s very intuitive. When I used to paint I was very rigid with myself – things had to look exactly right. But with the embroidery I can really chill out. I start with a colour combination and then just go with it. I never plan a piece.

And do you still share your art on the street?

Oh, yes. Art is my living so I like to get paid commissions, but street art is very playful and I really enjoy it, especially when I’m travelling. I’m like a dog – wherever I go I have to leave my mark behind!

WORDS: ANDREINA CORDANI