Negine Jasmine is a film photographer and embroiderer currently living in Washington D.C. Her heritage is Afghani. I came across her work via Instagram and wanted to know if or how her ethnicity inspires her embroidery.
How and why did you get into embroidery?
When I was seventeen, I was into the Riot Grrrl movement and had a brief punk phase. I used to attend punk shows in weird basements and was around all of these kids that had awesome patches that were casually stitched onto their denim and leather jackets. I thought it would be fun if I could make my own patches, so I asked my grandma to teach me how to embroider. My very first patch was this alien in a pink spaceship with the words “Alien Babe” hand-embroidered on the bottom. Embarrassing, but encompasses the awkwardness yet guilelessness of what it meant for me to be seventeen.
What are some of your favourite stitches?
I’m actually not that impressive of an embroiderer when it comes to the techniques or methods of stitching. I recently stitched on red little beads onto a pomegranate to represent the seeds — and was excited about my ‘not-so-extraordinary’ achievement. I follow a very basic, minimal method of stitching. I’m not going sugar coat it because I want people to know that you don’t have to have a bunch of tricks up your sleeve to pursue certain endeavours. I’m not even very good at drawing; my sketches look like they’ve been drawn by a five year old until I put string on it. It really is about the practice and the time you put into something that interests you. Nonetheless, I’ll continue to experiment with various techniques in my next projects, as I would love to become more skilled of an embroiderer.
Does your photography inspire your embroidery in any way?
As an inherent photographer, I am deeply inspired by photos; most of the time I stitch things that I wish I could photograph. As film (35mm) has become more expensive, I rarely order prints when I develop my roll and just have the scans added to a flash drive or CD. So, I find myself wishing I could have more of a physical or tangible relationship with my work, but my embroideries get to fulfil that desire. The colours I use in my embroideries come from photos I’ve taken or from ones that I’ve seen. I recently watched “The Eye of Istanbul” a documentary on photographer Ara Güler, and he described photography in such precise terms, “Cameras are simply a mechanism to capture light. What are you going to find with that light?”. Something about that line struck a chord within me, and has made me even more conscious of the light that I swim in. I relate it back to embroidery too and ask myself what am I going to make with this string? I will find ways to try to connect both mediums, as I feel like it’ll add that much more emotion to the piece. How things look are important to me, colours plus light play a huge role in that and I think studying photographs can lead me towards becoming a better embroiderer.
How does being from Afghanistan influence or inspire your work?
There was a shift in my interests after my Bibi (grandmother) moved in with my family. I observed her, talked to her and deeply listened. She’s told me hundreds of stories of Afghanistan, the Afghanistan that she carries with her and remembers. My Bibi is also an extraordinary poet. She can still make up the most beautiful poem right on the spot today — she’s the reason why I became interested in Farsi/Dari poetry, and why I add rich, poetic lines to my pieces. I am obsessed with the era she lived in. Afghanistan was far from perfect, but I really wish I got to experience it. My mom brought a box of coloured and b&w photos back with her, all taken in the late 60’s-70’s of Afghanistan and they’re probably my favourite thing in my closet. Being from Afghanistan also plays a huge role in my agenda to deconstruct structural inequality, create representation, unlearn Eurocentric beauty standards, and to rewrite history that was originally written by imperialists. Art has the power to educate, so it’s my mission to stitch or create stories that were left out of history books. Stories that inspire research and self-knowledge, most of these stories exist within our elders — so talk to your grandparents!
How do you think people perceive embroidery?
People respond with curiosity. I like to embroider important women in Afghanistan’s history, because these women weren’t in our history books. Not many people know what an Afghan person looks like, let alone the influential figures in our history. So I’ll stitch people like Malalai of Maiwand, who is a national hero of Afghanistan — she rallied local fighters against the British troops at the 1880 Battle of Maiwand. She was such a badass figure and I think that the Afghan diaspora would have an easier time coming to terms with their identity if they knew about the remarkable people that existed before them.
What goals or ambitions do you have for your textiles?
I love collaborating, especially within the communities and with WoC. I want to work with more clothing and fashion brands that support Palestine, Women’s rights, Black Lives, and underrepresented communities. I hope to continue aligning myself with people that are working towards the greater good — ethical, sustainable, and powerful brands out there, let’s work together!
Lastly what do you love about embroidery?
I love the world I escape to when I embroider. I’m the type of person that needs to finish something I start as soon as I can, or else it’ll weigh on me. My best friend says I should be more patient and enjoy the process of certain things, but if I’ve already made up my mind about something or have an idea I don’t want to wait! Time is already escaping us too quickly. Anyways, I love the bubble that I create for myself. Because I get away from everything: my phone, technology, people, etc. It gets a bit extreme when I’m really into a piece and before I know it, twelve hours will go by, the sun has come and gone, I’m dehydrated, and famished but there is joy in those days. Loneliness also has its way of seeping in, so sometimes I’ll meet up with friends at coffee shops or libraries – we each do our own thing but in the company of the other. I hold a lot of meaning in those interactions.