Judy Foley worked in analytical chemistry before going back to art school and retraining as an artist. This atypical background has given her an acute understanding of how science can influence art – and crucially to her works in Woman in the Machine, how art can influence science. Foley has two artworks in the exhibition: to sew a heart and to mend an aorta iii, both glass vitrines housing tiny hand-stitched sculptures based on industry design templates for bioprosthetic heart valves and aortic stents, made to scale for human hearts. With great precision and delicacy, the works use ancient needlecrafting techniques that have been passed down by generations of women and are now used in the medical manufacturing industry. We spoke to Judy Foley to find out more about her fascinating insight into this craftsmanship and how her practice combines art, science and research.


Your works in Woman in the Machine look at the skilled needlecraft involved in medical technology. How did you first learn about these kinds of objects?

My practice concerns have always been centred around quite specific processes of making; processes performed by hand with painstaking, precise and repetitive actions. I have an interest in the specialty of medical intervention and I was looking to base some research in a context where these meticulous methods of working might have an inherent purpose or relevance. So I was really excited to learn that these are exactly the types of procedures that are routinely employed in the high-tech medical device industry where implants such as artificial heart valves and aortic stents are manufactured using ancient skills of needlecraft in a process that involves hand stitching of component parts.

You originally studied science, before retraining as an artist. Can you briefly talk us through your background – what made you ‘switch’ paths, or was your art-making practice there all along?

I initially qualified as a chemist and worked for 18 years in the pharma industry in the area of analytical chemistry. I can’t say that my art making practice was there all along but the notion of making art was always simmering away in the background. The opportunity came when I returned to college to study art after a break from work due to illness, and I graduated with a BA in Visual Arts Practice from IADT in 2007. More recently, in 2019, I received an MA in Art & Research Collaboration from IADT during which time I undertook a residency placement within Trinity Bioengineering/AMBER in Trinity College Dublin.

Despite the seemingly definitive shift between the two disciplines, I am very aware how my background in science has informed my art practice. And not just in the areas of study where I choose to focus my interest, which are generally technical, but also in the way I work, which is precise and meticulous and procedure-driven, and is definitely a legacy of my time spent working in the area of analytical chemistry.

What can artists and scientists learn from one another?

So much, really. I have worked separately in both disciplines but the full extent of how one might feed into the other became clear to me during my time spent on residency within Trinity Bioengineering. The residency allowed me to engage with the MSc class in Medical Device Design, sitting in on lectures and project work. The series of objects on exhibit in Woman and the Machine was informed by my time there and explores the medical implant as a handcrafted object. It was in the context of this work that I became aware of the unique relationship between the objects that I was making and the test piece or prototype of the engineer’s design process. I could see that it was not impossible that I might create an object that could exhibit a particular feature leading to a viable outcome for industry and equally the engineer’s prototype could warrant an existence as an object, something in possession of that intrinsic capacity to engage a viewer. It is the potential for this shared resolution manifested in a single object that interests me.

What sewing techniques do you use to craft these delicate works?

Repair through the sewing process is an important element of my work. I use two very basic stitches, the common slip stitch and the blanket stitch. I was interested to learn that the slip stitch, or running whip stitch, is used by surgeons as a fast time-saving suture and not necessarily intended for long term healing. It is also a stitch that is used when the patient has died on the table. In contrast, the blanket stitch is used widely by needleworkers as a permanent and secure mending. My thinking here is about the tension that exists between the promise of extended life through medical science and the inevitable fallibility of the human condition.

Can you tell us about your choice of materials – paper, beeswax and thread?

As with my sewing process, my choice of materials has relevance. I generally use materials that are inherently unstable and, like the human body, degrade or age over time. The mild steel corrodes; the newsprint grade paper that I use is fragile and oxidises as it ages, turning a darker shade of yellow with time; the felted wool will decompose eventually. Only the beeswax will not degrade and I use it as a sort of contrivance to effect stability and render protection.

Is there a particular tool or technology that has influenced your approach or process?

Perhaps a surprising element to my work, given its context, is the fact that the materials and processes I use are very low-tech. I like the notion of self-sufficiency, a sort of notion that you could ‘sew your own heart valve’. My materials are of the ordinary and readily available, and my processes and tools are those that can be performed at home and mostly on my kitchen table. There is definitely something of the domestic in the choices I make: combinations of felted wool and beeswax, hand stitching using a needle and thread, melting beeswax into paper using a household iron and ironing board. Even the frame of the display unit has been polished by hand, slowly building up layers using standard grate polish. All tedious household tasks produced via repetitive labour. And in the same way, the manufacture of the medical implants which have informed this work is performed by hand using skills of needlecraft that traditionally have a context in a domestic setting.

What advice do you have for young artists interested in science, or scientists interested in art?

I’m glad you also asked me about scientists interested in art as I feel that this perspective sometimes gets less consideration, particularly during the formative stages of study in university when making the creative process visible to students can have relevance.

In terms of advice, I can only speak from my own personal experience. Formerly, as a scientist interested in art, I made the shift from one discipline to the other. At the time there was little or no opportunity to engage with the creative process in a working technical environment. This is not the case now with many tech companies and universities sponsoring artist residency programs, such as UCD Parity Studios.

Now, as an artist with an interest in science I have more freedom to move across disciplines. My residency placement in Trinity College Dublin was self-initiated. After I had identified the area where research relevant to my interests was ongoing, I made contact with the Bioengineering Dept in TCD and, despite the fact there was no formalised residency program in the department, they were really flexible and open to the idea of setting up a placement for me. So my advice is to do the research and be proactive in seeking out opportunities.

In terms of further study, there are postgraduate courses, such as the MA Art & Research Collaboration, IADT, which has a program focused on connecting art with other disciplines and is open to graduates from other disciplines who may already be working within art in some capacity.

How can technology help us understand or reimagine the human body?

A science which enables an implantable device to reside within the body and replace a missing body part, support a damaged body part or enhance an existing body part inevitably leads to a new thinking or reimagining around the human body. I see this as a thinking that moves away from or disrupts that perceived wholeness or indivisibility of the human form. The posthuman body becomes an entity that can be added to or subtracted from, broken down to a sum of parts. I am interested in the ontological status of these parts, both in terms of the implants and devices that reside within the body and also in turn, the entities that become separated from the body post-resection.

Can you tell us about a ‘woman in the machine’ who has informed or inspired your work?

My ‘Woman in the Machine’ comes from the context of my work in this exhibition, and it goes to the women who are driven tirelessly to pass down learned skills of traditional handcrafting through generations. The fact that ancient skills of needlecraft are now being used by trained technicians, both women and men, to manufacture cardiovascular implants demonstrates the continued relevance of traditional craft, bringing it into the context of 21st century technology.

And I would just like to say thank you, and how delighted I am to have been a part of this amazing exhibition, Woman in the Machine.

Interview by Rosa Abbott

Woman In The Machine runs at VISUAL Carlow from 4 June – 12 September 2021. You can learn more about Judy Foley’s work in the exhibition on womaninthemachine.com here.