The Weaving Data exhibition wordmark. The title of the exhibition is set in a bold, angular, VCR font in yellow. Overlaid in magenta are pixelated designs, weaving patterns produced by the Jacquard loom.

ON VIEW: January 24 - April 29, 2023

A woven Persian rug mounted on a wall, the middle appears to be melting down and off of the wall into pools of color on the floor.
Faig Ahmed, Gautama, 2017, Handmade woolen carpet, 112 x 149 inches
© Faig Ahmed, Courtesy of the artist and Collection Majudia
A white weaving mounted on a beige canvas square. The weaving is comprised of two rectangular forms connected by thin threads which hang low at the bottom in a long fringe with small knots. The rectangles have roughly-square holes in them in an asymmetric design, inspired by the punch cards used to operate the first mechanical computers.
Ahree Lee, Ada, 2019 , Cotton, linen, and wool on canvas , 22 x 12 inches, © Ahree Lee, Courtesy of the artist, Image: Cecily Brown

Weaving Data

Featured Artists:

Faig Ahmed, April Bey, Jovencio de la Paz, Ahree Lee,
Kayla Mattes, Shelley Socolofsky, Joan Truckenbrod, Vo Vo, and Sarah Wertzberger

Curated by:

Theo Downes-Le Guin and Nancy Downes-Le Guin


Digital computing is deeply connected to weaving. The Jacquard weaving process, first demonstrated in 1801, gave instructions to a loom using holes punched in paper cards—an early form of binary code. Charles Babbage’s Analytical Engine (1834), the blueprint for modern computing and algorithms, borrowed elements of its design from the Jacquard loom. One element was the punch card, which remained a primary medium for programming and inputting data to computers into the 1980s.


High technology’s roots in the Industrial Revolution may explain some of the biases and challenges currently facing the industry. Historically, narratives of industrialization have minimized the contributions of women, low-wage laborers, and people of color. This same habit of erasure now plays out in high tech’s origin myths and frequent failure to cultivate inclusivity in education, hiring, and product design.


The artists in this exhibition investigate the complex relationship between weaving and computing. Some use data analysis, while others use metaphor. Some collaborate with computers to make their weavings; others weave by hand, but use data or internet memes as a basis for woven patterns. Regardless of approach, these artists remind us that we all have a say in deciding which technologies and cultural values we choose to elevate.

Exhibition, education, and outreach programs have been made possible by a grant from The Ford Family Foundation. 

This exhibition is supported by the Oregon Cultural Trust.

Accessibility initiatives have been made possible by a grant from the Richard & Helen Phillips Charitable Fund to the JSMA Community Access Fund.

A weaving of a woman with a septum piercing and dreadlocks looking at the viewer with a resolute expression, on a background of red and green stripes with a twisting ribbon-like design.
April Bey, I Was Just An Alien That Came Down From The Sky to Save Your Dumb Behind, 2022, Digitally printed and woven blanket with hand-sewn "African" Chinese knockoff wax fabric, 80 x 60 inches
© April Bey, Courtesy of the artist and GAVLAK Los Angeles | Palm Beach
A weaving shaped like a wavy, warped diamond, with thin fringe hanging from the bottom right side. The weaving has gradient stripes of orange, yellow, and green behind a distorted thick black grid.
Sarah Wertzberger, Untitled, 2019, Handwoven with Sublimation print, cotton and polyester yarn,
19 x 17 inches, © Sarah Wertzberger, Courtesy of the artist and Holding Contemporary
A large rectangular grayscale weaving woven with a detailed symmetrical design composed of topographic satellite data of a mountain range. The natural forms and organic lines of the mountains and ridges are mirrored exactly, creating a sublime and almost eerie composition.
Shelley Socolofsky, Phoenix (Hindu Kush Mountains, Afghanistan/36°14.45"N x 71°50'38"E), 2021, Cotton, metal thread mounted to panel, 45 x 28 inches, © Shelley Socolofsky, Courtesy of the artist