Rezia Wahid MBE is a Bangladeshi-born British textile artist whose work is deeply influenced by her personal journey and culture. Moving to the UK at the age of five, Rezia was struck by the contrast between the vibrant textiles of her homeland—saris, kanthas, and embroidered pieces—and the woollen fabrics of Britain. Although she never envisioned becoming a textile artist, her love for art and a deep interest in the cultural heritage of Bangladeshi textiles eventually led her to create her own, blending tradition with personal expression.
In an interview with Asian Voice, she spoke about her artistic practice, challenges she faced in the industry and much more.
How do the diverse cultural influences from your upbringing and heritage shape your artistic practice today?
My work is less about expressing my identity to the world and more about exploring my personal journey. If a technique resonates with what I'm trying to achieve, I incorporate it naturally. Identity is crucial, of course—artists weave their DNA into their art. My upbringing is deeply intercultural; although I'm Bangladeshi, I see no clear distinction between Indian and Bangladeshi cultures. I grew up in a village where Hinduism and Islam coexisted naturally, and this blend of influences shapes who I am.
In my art, I’m not consciously creating pieces based on my identity, but rather exploring and uncovering the threads that make up my identity. My roots stretch from Bangladesh to East Pakistan, India, and even Yemen, where Sufi-influenced Islam took hold. Now, living in Britain, I weave these diverse cultural strands into my work, which enriches and inspires my artistic practice.
What challenges have you faced in the textile industry, and how have you overcome them?
My journey as a South Asian British Muslim artist has been both rewarding and challenging. The British art education system was crucial in shaping me, but initially, pursuing art was difficult due to its dismissal as a viable career. Thankfully, my supportive parents encouraged me. In further education, I realised that my unique identity made it essential for my art to be authentic and deeply rooted in my own experiences.
As I moved into professional life, I faced the challenge of fitting my work into societal and market expectations. Although my work was appreciated, it didn’t fit neatly into categories like fine art or craft. I chose not to alter my vision for commercial success, instead focusing on maintaining my artistic integrity despite criticism.
How do you balance maintaining traditional techniques with exploring new and innovative approaches in your work?
My inspiration comes from the journeys and themes I explore, particularly in the way I work with yarns and threads. I love the traditional method of weaving, but I'm also deeply interested in architecture and nature. This blend of interests shapes my approach. While traditional techniques can be intricate and detailed, I'm drawn to the Japanese concept of "less is more." This minimalist philosophy influences my work, allowing me to create pieces that feel both contemporary and timeless, seamlessly combining tradition with modernity.
How do you see the role of textile art in today’s contemporary art scene?
I believe there's a real renaissance happening in the world of handwoven textiles. When I first moved to London as a 1998 graduate in handwoven textiles, people often didn’t understand what that meant. They’d be surprised—“Oh, you’ve got a first-class degree in handwoven textiles? Really? What is that?” But now, it’s wonderful to see how things have changed. We have initiatives like the weaver line coming into London, craft fairs, and organisations like Cockpit Arts supporting artisans. There’s a growing appreciation for handmade work, with more funding and opportunities available for makers. It’s truly an exciting time for the craft.
What future projects or goals are you excited about in your career?
I’m incredibly excited—I’ve just received a scholarship for a PhD! As a student, I was captivated by the light, airy fabrics of Dhaka muslin and Jamdani. For years, I’ve wanted to research these textiles, to understand the decline of the Jamdani cloth of Bengal. But every time I delved into the history, the sadness and trauma surrounding it overwhelmed me, so I shelved the idea. Instead, I focused on creating beautiful cloths, hoping to revive the tradition in my own way.
Now, I realise my work needs to have a lasting impact, which is why I decided to pursue this PhD. I’m thrilled to take my research and practice to the next level and hope to visit India and Bangladesh to connect with museums and galleries, and to physically piece together this rich history.
