Tlingit artist Lily Hope finds transcendent purpose, meaning, and responsibility in Northwest Indigenous weaving.
Should you be strolling in downtown Juneau — which is situated in southeastern Alaska and only accessible by boat or plane — you might glimpse Lily Hope (Tlingit) at work on her Chilkat and Ravenstail weavings in her public-facing studio. “I want to be visible to make it recognizable,” she says. For the same reason, she gives talks at venues like the influential Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington, D.C.; leads online weaving sessions on Sundays; and teaches woolen weaving and regalia-making as a professor of studio arts at the University of Alaska Southeast.
Hope, 43, is one of the few living designers of ceremonial dancing blankets created and worn by northern Northwest Coast Alaska Native peoples. “I weave for the community that is built around it, that is fostered by weaving,” she says. “I weave for the human connection of the work. I teach because it was left in my care — the responsibility of making sure there is somebody who steps into my shoes when I cross over into the spirit world is ever-present.”
Ancestral Indigenous Protector, 2020. Triptych of handwoven masks asserting protection for all peoples. Chilkat techniques in merino wool and cedar warp, merino weft yarns, tin cones; 8” x 7.5” including fringe.
The daughter of master weaver Clarissa Rizal, Hope was born and raised initially in Juneau. She started spinning and dyeing yarns at age 13 as a way to be helpful to her mom. At that point, they had moved to Pagosa Springs, Colorado, to get away from Juneau’s often-gray weather. “I spent a decade in Colorado and the Lower 48. So I know who the Spice Girls and Tom Cruise are,” she says.
Returning to Juneau as an adult, she continued to weave while she studied at the very university where she now teaches. Along the way, she became the mother of five children. Today, Hope is best known for her Chilkat dancing blankets, which are fashioned from wool and cedar bark and feature yellow, black, blue, and white curvilinear adapted formline designs. One of her intricate Chilkat ceremonial robes typically requires two and a half years to complete.
Chilkat Protector, 2020. Chilkat weaving using thigh-spun warp of merino wool and cedar bark, merino weft yarns, ermine tails, tin cones; 7.5” x 7” including fringe.
In addition to the extensive time demands, there’s a substantial spiritual component to the weaving. “We talk about the Chilkat dancing robe as the veil between worlds,” Hope explains. “The Chilkat dancing robe in progress is a veil between our physical world and the spirit world on the other side. Our job as practitioners of this work is to allow these beings to come through our hands, and a surrender and a collaboration with beings we may not see.”
It’s a transcendent process. “We’re really careful with how we come to weaving the ceremonial pieces. The goodness of life goes into it, the prayer and well wishes for whoever places this on their shoulders. And the humility of what a gift it is to weave, what a surrender it is to work in this realm with physicality — the ability to touch and twine and co-create with the being on the other side. We are creating ceremonial work. These are going to last 20 generations deep, 500 years, 1,000 years into the future.”
Hope works on Between Worlds, a full-size ceremonial dancing robe.
Accordingly, her weaving sessions commence with a prayer of gratitude: “There’s an intentionality. I come to the loom, and usually before taking off the shawl that protects it from dust, I say thank you to the nanny who’s watching my children, the person who’s cleaning my toilet, the warm heat coming to my studio, my children being well, my own health, for my honey cooking me dinner, for the community I have around me, for the gift of weaving.”
The physical preparation is similarly holistic. “Regular connection with the natural world, moving our bodies, because if we’re sitting for four to six hours a day, sitting is the new smoking. We want to make sure we are caring for our physical and mental well-being. I see a talk therapist. I work out at the gym. Not just body care but making sure my lover is happy. Making sure my children know they are valuable to me. Spending quality time with them. Being a Chilkat weaver is addictive — obsessive.”
Grandmother’s Wealth, 2021. Textile woven with traditional Chilkat techniques in merino wool and cedar bark warp, merino weft yarns, brass cones; 10” x 16” including fringe.
Hope wove Chilkat fine-art masks during the pandemic and also weaves Indigenous earrings and armbands. Her work is in numerous museum collections, including the Portland Art Museum in Portland, Oregon; Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis; and Museum of Man and Nature in Munich. “Through it all,” she says, “it really is a gift to wake up and know what my life work is. To not question ever, what am I supposed to be doing with my life?”
Visit Lily Hope online at lilyhope.com.
From our May/June 2024 issue.
HEADER IMAGE: Between Worlds, 2022. Adult-sized Chilkat dancing robe. Chilkat weaving techniques on thigh-spun merino and cedar bark warps, merino weft yarns dyed with copper/ammonia, wolf moss, and hemlock bark; 64” x 44” tall.
PHOTOGRAPHY: @sydneyakagiphoto