CLAUDIA MUNRO





Art
2021 -
  1. Follow the Angel Down 
  2. Riddarhyttan on Iron - One to Twenty One
  3. Making Art Felt Like Lying, So I Cut Hair Like My Mother Instead
  4. A Performance of the Social Fabric
  5. Moonless Night
  6. BLESS YOUR HEART
  7. Lineage Found in Lambs
  8. A Trial and Error of the Social Carpet
  9. Dear Sweden, Give Me My Bones Back
  10. A Watery Commons


Design
2020 -  
  1. Exhibition Posters
  2. The Labour of Emotions, The Emotions of Textiles
  3. MERGE
  4. snob
  5. Overlap
  6. Various Posters


Words
2023 -
  1. Twenty Six Gallery texts
  2. there is a forest, and so we sell firewood text
  3. my mother is a hairdresser text
  4. BLESS YOUR HEART text
  5. The Labour of Emotions, The Emotions of Textiles text
  6. Kiss your friends (and tell them you love them) text



Info
  1. Hello! I am an artist/designer/writer from New Zealand/Sweden interested in the edges – where creative practices overlap and what can be made from the in between. 


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7. Lineage Found in Lambs

2023
Installation 
Screenprinted fabric, wood, string, clay, metal wire








A two part work - a recount of the generations before me, a piecing together of a family tree that has been lost in many translations, many journeys.

Where there are words, there are roots. Lineage Found in Lambs is the meeting of my grandparents; nana and poppa, farmor and farfar. Each ‘page’ is their story, a fable made from the etymology of their names, while the cover is my parents. A bow and arrow fit for an archer. My fathers last name translating to ‘Bow’ my mothers name, after the infamous bowman - Robin Hood. The six of them forever thread together by cupid's strike.






2023
Three channel video: 4 minutes, 25 seconds
Found footage from:
Jonna Jinton, Women of the Outer Hebrides, via Youtube Darlarnas Museum, Josefine Lundberg, via Vimeo


The Lineage Found in Lambs video work sees this binding through culture. Migration begins with a beckoning. Lambs to a sweet call in the distance. Or a lover from across the globe. We trot over fields, cross oceans, arriving to a shedding of coats - freshly stripped bellies, with a new wind on our skin and a pile of our wool sitting beside us. First we are shepherded, and shorn, then spun and woven. A syrupy song to lull us through all. The nordic kulning. The Scottish waulking. And at the tie between the two - a few generations down, a few migrations along - my New Zealand mothers song, sung for my Swedish father.