Responding to the historical textile, Mia Weiner creates intimate declarations that explore identity, gender, and the psychology of human relationships. She hand-weaves each tapestry in her Los Angeles studio.

Mia Weiner (b. 1991, Chicago, IL) received her MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (2020) and her BFA in Fiber from the Maryland Institute College of Art in 2013. She was awarded the V&A Parasol Prize by the Victoria & Albert Museum and Parasol Foundation in 2024. Her work has been exhibited internationally including in New York, London, Los Angeles, Miami, Chicago, and Rome. 

What is your creative process, and how has it evolved?

Usually, I start with a feeling, shape, or color that lives in my head, floating and cooking until it is ready to be made material. When I feel ready, I stage models in space, often alongside my own body, and I take photographs. These images are then digitally altered – adding and removing information, adjusting the composition, playing with visibility, etc. When the composition is finished, I create a giant digital map of how to weave the image before moving to the loom. There, the transformation from digital to haptic begins as I hand-weave each row of each weaving. Colors, stripes, and breaks in the cloth mark moments in my process and meditation as I work, functioning both as a marker of my hand and labor as well as, directly relating to the glitch and digital noise of the broken screen. I can only weave one piece at a time on my loom if I want it to be a solid piece of cloth, and I find that each weaving informs the next, and is ever-evolving. 

How does family influence your artwork?

I think a lot about how my work has been influenced by my family. I grew up in a house filled with Hindu and Buddhist deities. Being surrounded by these (often multi-limbed) non-Western depictions at such an early age has absolutely seeped into my work and how I think about the figure. My mother is also a psychologist, and greatly influenced how I think about human relationships (which much of my work is about). For most of my work, I use models who are quite close to me – dear friends, partners, and my adult family. Recently, I had my mother and sister pose for some work for the first time, which was also incredibly special. I am constantly in awe of the generosity of those around me, how supported I feel by them in my practice, and how they literally help me make my work by allowing me to photograph them for my weavings.

What is the most challenging part of your process, and how do you deal with it?

Perhaps, it is getting started on something new. There is a lot of magic in starting a new body of work, but usually, the work lives in my head for a while before I work up the courage to take the leap. I spend so much time with the ideas floating around in my head that they often feel material before I get started. We are already intimate friends.

There is also always a play between control and moments of surprise while working. A lot of my process is very technical and controlled. There is a lot of digital editing and decision-making in my process before I am ready to weave – how I crop each photograph I take, how they shift or become distorted, how to program each image into the map I use to hand-weave the work. I can get lost in the difference of an inch and go back and forth for hours (or days) on minute details until I surrender, zoom out, and make a choice. Finding moments of play is essential for me, and as much as I plan, I always surprise myself when I begin weaving. Stripes and shifts in the image, or ‘the glitch,’ emerge and become a new entry point into the work. I can only see a small fraction of each weaving as I work, and seeing the full piece when it is ready to come off the loom is always a bit of magic. 

What is the most interesting art fair that you have been to before?

It was just my first time at Future Fair a few weeks ago where I had a solo presentation with MAMA Projects based in NY, and I was really impressed with a lot of the other work that was there. It was full of the best kind of surprises, material inquiry, and felt like the artists and booths really took some risks (and it really paid off). As a Chicago native, I also have to give a shout-out to Barely Fair at Julius Caesar. 

Describe what an ideal space would look like for one of your artworks to reside in. 

I am really fascinated by the different contexts my work can sit in – what it would be like for my tapestries to live in a historic building or ancient architecture versus what the contemporary tapestry does in a modern space next to other contemporary works. I was just at the V&A in London as a recipient of the V&A Parasol Foundation Prize, and I loved how the galleries mixed ancient sculpture with contemporary works. It would be a dream for my work to live side by side with the works that inspired and informed them.

The truth is, I think a lot about intimacy and am also incredibly excited by intimate spaces. I really love a space that allows a very personal relationship with the work – above a bed – in a living space. A place for dreaming. 

What part of the art ecosystem excites you the most for the future of your practice?

The forever exchanging of ideas. I saw Laurie Anderson speak about a decade ago, and in the lecture, she said something along the lines that every time something completely new is made, it redefines the word art. It is this sentiment that keeps me on my toes and immersed in art both in my studio and out in the world. 

What new institutional collection would you like to be in?

There are so many institutional collections (new and old) that I would love to be part of. What a wonderful question to dream on. While not particularly new, it would be special to be part of the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago or The Art Institute of Chicago’s permanent collection since those were the museums I grew up in and were the first places I began to learn about art. 

What type of environment would be the most fulfilling for a residency?

I am headed to Yaddo in a couple of weeks for a residency, and I am so excited.

I have found that residencies have been some of the most productive periods for my practice. Generally, there isn’t a loom for me to work on but the images I take, and the time and space to experiment and explore without the usual day-to-day, have been so generative and allow for a whole new body of work to emerge when I return to my loom. Every residency I have been to so far has led to a crucial turning point in my practice. They are tender spaces and are a really great shake-up from the studio. It is also so amazing to be around other artists going through the same experience and creates a special bond. At Yaddo, I am planning on working on a series of drawings as material for future weavings instead of working from the photograph, as well as expanding on my wood carving, which I began which I began while at Haystack’s residency two years ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about since.