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Material Dialogues - Tha Terra Studio
Lucinda Button
Joana Alarcão
In this interview, we meet Lucinda Button, a visual artist whose transformative journey from broadcast journalist to environmental artist exemplifies the profound intersection of personal experience and artistic purpose. Button's practice emerged from a rich tapestry of influences—from childhood memories of Kenya's vibrant landscapes to the harsh realities she witnessed as a BBC World Service correspondent across East Africa, where she first encountered the crucial "three R's: Recycle, Reuse, Refuse" that would define her artistic philosophy. Through her innovative use of recycled fabrics, marine detritus, and natural objects, Button creates textile works that literally "escape the frame"—extending beyond traditional boundaries to engage viewers in urgent conversations about environmental fragility while demonstrating how discarded materials can be transformed into powerful vehicles for both aesthetic beauty and social consciousness.
24 Jun 2025



As a graduate of the Glasgow School of Art, a degree in embroidered and woven textiles didn’t lead me on a straight forward path to becoming a Textile artist; it has been an evolving journey, shaped by life abroad and a deep appreciation and admiration for the natural world. My earliest memories are rooted in the beaches of Kenya, where I was fascinated by the vibrant colours and textures of the land and seascape. This early inspiration, combined with an awareness of the stark contrasts between such beauty and the harsh realities faced by so many with fewer opportunities, profoundly influenced my creative perspective.
Embracing my creativity, I worked for several years as a broadcast journalist with the BBC World Service, which furthered my understanding of global issues and the diverse stories that shape our world. After marriage and while raising children, my focus shifted towards teaching and sharing my passion for creativity through interior design. These experiences have given me a solid grounding in 20th century Art and, more recently, in textiles as a medium for expression and storytelling.
However, as I find my own creative voice, I am finding myself wanting to go back to our collective environment as my main source of inspiration, whether it’s one of the land or the sea; our planet is clearly on a tipping point. I know from my experiences as a journalist you can’t change the world even from the World Service platform; so I hope to use my love and interest in fabrics, recycling and the story they can tell to at least get people talking about this crisis we all face.
What pivotal moments or experiences have contributed to your development as a visual artist and environmentalist?
I can attribute various life experiences as significantly contributing to my development as a visual artist, and I think having always been a very imaginative person too, this has provided further layers of creativity to emerge in my responses to life situations.
The journey definitely started in Kenya, where I lived as a child from ages 4-7. My first memories are of the absolute beauty of both the coast and the land of Kenya; the light, vibrant colours and textures all made a deep impression on me, informing my appreciation for the natural aesthetics of our planet. Returning to different parts of East Africa after graduating from Art School, but wearing a different creative hat as a freelance broadcast journalist, specifically for the BBC World Service, opened my eyes to the harsh realities faced by so many. I was making features, and wherever possible would seek out to narrate the positive stories, that were so often overlooked by the news coming from this part of the world. Finding these led me to the scientific and environmental stories. It was on my very first assignment in 1997 in Jamaica, doing a series about tourism and the environment and their effects on the land and its people, where I learnt the three R’s: Recycle. Reuse. Refuse. These rules dramatically shaped my then-developing opinions, and I have lived by them in my daily life and through my artistic journey, to this day.
Becoming an Art teacher in my thirties was also instrumental in my development, expanding further my knowledge and understanding of the multifaceted history of 20th-century art, and further being able to share the skills and knowledge required to effectively teach students aged 11 to 18 years.
Whilst these experiences played significant roles in my visual and environmental artistic development, the most pivotal influence in my creativity and expression, came through deeply personal anguish through the life threatening condition of our youngest son. Finally diagnosed in 2019 after years of investigation, our son nearly died in 2023 after catastrophic liver failure and an emergency liver transplant. I took the time off work to care for him, which in turn led me to a profound reassessment of my time and how I used it. A revised timetable for my teaching work was negotiated to allow me to continue to support our son in his recovery: It is through this profound experience that new territories of creativity and expression have emerged in me; The New Horizons Series came after some initial experiments with fabrics, but it really just poured out of me and kept me sane. Now working on my own artistic process and expression, not only feels compulsive but also necessary to my very being.
In your artist statement, you explain that some of your works "escape the frame." Could you please elaborate on the significance and meaning behind this phrase in your artistic practice?
When a piece of work ‘escapes the frame’ this alludes to my not having felt bound by the rules of creating pieces to fit a specific size or space of chosen framing solution; I like the fabric and or the mixed media to dictate what happens in a piece, and sometimes that means work will fall out over the edge or sit proud of the frame. I use this visual trick as a part of the work to draw attention to an idea.
For example, the netting coming out of a Sea inspired piece…it’s not just to look visually interesting, adding colour and texture, I want the viewer to consider why? Why do we continue to fill our oceans and waterways with plastic? What can we do to help others improve and solve this global issue? In the Land works series, the stalks added are at different depths within the work, again the viewer is encouraged to look, then look again more closely, to stop and think and question… with these pieces to specifically connect with the theme of fragility within our environment.

The use of recycled, repurposed, and hand-dyed fabrics is central to your artistic practice. How do the inherent histories and unique qualities of these materials shape your creative process? Can you share a specific example of how this has impacted your work?
Reusing old fabrics is incredibly satisfying and exciting… I love seeing something discarded and unwanted recycled and reworked into something I hope visually interesting, ideally thought provoking. Because the fabrics involved in this process have had another life, that life and history may well be visually present. In the piece “What? Really?” I used old curtains, which I found being given away on the side of the road in my village. The creases from that first life dictated some of the initial compositional choices made, the linear areas, the flaps, folds and creases were kept as a part of the work. Sometimes, obviously, I will add a new history to the cloth, by dying and then scrunching the still-wet fabric, or printing over this to create really fractured-looking areas.
Another example from “What ? Really?” is the use of an old silk blouse that was a strange colour, so I dyed it and used how the dye was uneven in some areas, sticking to the embroidered areas to create really interesting textures. I think at first, I thought I had to come up with all of the colours and textures I wanted, but as Picasso suggested, “Good Artists Copy, Great Artists Steal”, I have realised I am allowed to use whatever fabrics come my way to make new work.
You combine natural objects, such as dried plant stalks and wood, with man-made textiles. How do you perceive the interaction between these materials, and do you see them as having their own agency or "voice" in your work?
My collecting of natural objects started on those beaches in Kenya, where I found joy and appreciation for what others describe as detritus. The natural objects were collected for my students to draw and respond to as well, though I can see this may have been the excuse I gave my bewildered family as I risked life and limb to collect some dried fauna from some slippery cliff edge. The architecture of natural forms, often when they are dead, has always been of great fascination to me. I am not content to merely photograph it, I want to include it as a part of the work so that it has the attention it deserves, it allows me to create signposts to the issues I want to raise within my work.
However, the collection of man-made detritus began 15 years ago with the salvage of an enormous ball of discarded fishing nets/ropes from our local beach. These objects are an incredibly important element of my work; I love that I can use their natural aesthetic, the curl, colour and rich texture of aged fishing detritus or the sea nets. But it’s their voice, that gives me a voice; the brittle, delicate nature of the objects speaks loudly and plainly to the subject matter I am so often trying to communicate. The use of marine detritus is a clear and obvious way to bring to an audience’s attention to the plight of our blue planet.

Could you tell us more about your series Land works, which continues the conversation about our fragile planet? What inspired the visual narrative and composition of these artworks?
Land works marks my first forage into a new palette, though when I look back at the only two remaining pieces not sold from my degree show in 1995, I can see I worked with these colours, textures before. The difference now is that I want to have a conversation about our planet, it’s fragility.
Using the dried, varnished detritus gives me this opportunity. There were two main forces to this new series; going on a short painting course that reminded me how to respond in my own unique way to the landscape around me, with marks, textures…confidence, using the soundscape of the forest as my starting point. And, pieces of wood leftover from a garden project; we were given some old posts, these were cut to size, and the remnants were these perfect circles with holes in them. I am influenced by Hepworth and Moore, using a hole as a visual element and a means to attach something aesthetically. I like the idea of the circle being a visual cue for communication, community; we are all linked to one another, and this is central to this narrative.
In your practice, you aim to visually stimulate viewers while encouraging discussions on the environment and our role within it. Could you elaborate on the techniques you use to achieve this?
My collection of man-made detritus, as previously mentioned, began 15 years ago with the salvage of the enormous ball of discarded fishing nets/ropes from a local beach. Gradually, I teased these apart, washing them in the rain in the garden. These objects are an incredibly important element of my marine-inspired work; I love using their natural aesthetic, and adding to it the personality of site-specific stones or shells. I want my audience to perhaps initially not even realise they are looking at discarded detritus, they are attracted first to the colours, compositions, and then they realise what they are looking at is more nuanced.
This summer I have persuaded a friend who’s just retired to lend me her office, it’s now “The Space in-between”.. a gallery/shop that is just that, the space in-between while she decides what to do with it and the space in-between the sea and the horizon, the penultimate space / shop front before the sea. Most of the work in the gallery is from my New Horizons series. But even in the four or five days I have been there, the conversations I have been able to have with the general public about marine pollution and our role within the environment have been amazing. I have started to work in collaboration with Sussex Bay, a marine conservation umbrella organisation that is able to support me with facts and data about what is actually going on in the specific 100-mile stretch of ocean in front of the gallery. It can be confronting to know the mountain out there we face as a society, that we have done and continue to do significant damage to our environment, but, as ever, I am always looking for a positive… there is time to reverse this damage. I am going to continue a collaboration with a PhD student also working with Sussex Bay to find out about the Kelp forests on this stretch of coastline; they are thriving! We want to know why and how this data might help other less successful areas recover or improve. I plan to make new work this summer that specifically communicates this.

How does the initial process of paperwork and photography influence the textile pieces that follow?
This is an example of how the initial process of paperwork and photography influences the textile pieces that follow. I have a series of paper works called Wave Forms, which are made initially from the leftover papers from dying fabrics.
Mixed with handmade papers (left over from soaking fabrics books) and combined with my photographic observations of colours and textures, I worked into these using a variety of different media. The resulting pieces are added to with sea glass, “treasure” (as I have always referred to it) and connected with discarded, found fishing line. These little compositions led to bigger textile compositions. The Postcard Tapestry and the bigger pieces, like the series of six Vignette of the Sea, were developed in response to these. I take a lot of photos, I look back at these from time to time, I don’t often do anything with these images, it is the taking of them, the noticing and capturing, sometimes editing the composition in camera, which is important to my practice. Sometimes working with collage on a slightly bigger scale than the Wave Forms has also been an important step from idea to creation.
In the context of your artistic practice, how do you engage with the evolving relationship between human-made materials and the natural world, and in what ways do you challenge traditional notions of materiality to foster sustainable practices that minimize environmental impact?
In the context of my own creative practice, I see my relationship between human-made and natural materials as ever evolving. The more I collect, the more I make, the more I develop as an Artist. Kiefer was perhaps the first Artist I saw (2014 RA exhibition) who incorporated objects into his work (of course, I’m aware of the many who came before him), but it was that exhibition that allowed me to believe I could work in this way. Sadly, despite huge efforts from many others before me and no doubt after me, many people still believe in the simple concept of: the more they have, the better they are. We are all materialistic, but trying to get people to see the value in reusing, recycling, or simply refusing… the need for more is really important to me. I really want to foster sustainable practices that minimise our collective environmental impact, starting with appreciation and value for what I make, followed by the story that goes with the work. This is my way of trying to challenge our traditional notions of what is needed to make work/Art. I still find myself buying white frames to conform with current trends, but I’d like to reuse old frames more, but again, this is about getting people to shift in their acceptance and understanding of new versus old/reused.

Art and artists play various roles in the fabric of contemporary society. How do you see artistic practices advancing sustainability and social consciousness?
I think the role Artists have played, particularly in reflecting the mood of the social consciousness of a society, has always been an important one. The fact that so many Artists are looking at the effect of climate change and our role within the environment as subject matter is reflective of this. I think the personal responses to this are vital, especially in this new age of AI. Making and communicating on a creative level is key to our advancement of more sustainability. Art has often reflected society, isn’t it time it took the lead?
What message or call to action would you like to share with our readers?
If I had a message or call to action that I most want to share with the public, it is that it’s not too late, if we continue to stick to the three R’s - Recycle, Reuse, Refuse.
I really hope more pressure is applied to governments around the world to support more sustainable practices. Why aren’t we reusing old cars, putting in cleaner engines? I really hope science and creatives can come together to solve these issues we as a global village now face.
If something works in one country, share the concept, billionaires out there.. invest in really solid recycling ideas, not simply allowing other countries to bury our guilt. There should be huge incentives to come up with clever ways to recycle different materials, I am sure it’s all possible, but there needs to be the will and the capital to facilitate.
Finally Refuse… if we changed our attitudes towards what was considered important, if we stopped Fast Fashion in its tracks and demanded a more sustainable alternative, surely then we can turn back the tide of our damage to this planet.
Find more about the artist here.
Cover image:
New Horizons Series by Lucinda Button
All images courtesy of Lucinda Button.



