Curator Esther Gyorki on Tammy Kanat: Circle of Her

Time in Judaism is viewed as cyclical, not linear. The seasons cycle. Festivals, religious celebrations and the Sabbath come and go, come and go. Birth and rebirth. The circle of life. Soft and whole, with no angles and a deep connection to many shapes in the natural world, the circle is central to our existence. Who is the ‘her’ around whom this new body of work circles?

She is the women in the exhibition. Lilith, Ruth, Tamar, Miriam, Esther and Sarah. She is the Shechinah, the feminine divine presence. She is personal, evoking Kanat’s mother, daughters, sisters, friends and fellow women artists. She is Kanat, sharing her own story as a woman, artist and Jew. And she is universal, connecting visitors with the work through their personal experiences.

Central to Kanat’s artistic practice is her approach of complete immersion: she neither sketches nor rigorously plans, but merely begins, with her fingers, heart and mind working as one to bring her fibre artworks to life. Kanat weaves her own stories and her own life experience into her work. Inspired by history, culture and contemporary life, Kanat’s spirit and experiences appear in her work. In Circle of Her, Kanat embarks on her most intimate exploration yet, threading history, myth, identity and emotion into this body of work.

Raised with a cultural Jewish identity but not immersed in ritual practice, Kanat approached Circle of Her with a profound sense of curiosity, reverence and openness. These works mark a bold evolution in her practice. Known previously for two-dimensional, wall-based works, here she pushes boundaries: experimenting with scale, incorporating new shapes and embracing a sculptural, almost architectural form of fibre art. Kanat enters this new territory with fearless curiosity. That curiosity, in fact, may be the animating spirit of the exhibition. It is the fire behind the knowledge, the emotion and the deep connection that binds the show together. A sense of connection and love is palpable. It feels alive and pulsating, created by Kanat through conversations and experiences with many heads and hearts. It is a labour of love in the truest meaning: work done with full presence, full emotion, full commitment.

As she weaves, her works seem to take on a mind of their own. There is no knowing how each piece will end up and often the intensity of the finished work takes Kanat by surprise, highlighting the honesty, vulnerability and rawness to her work. On first viewing, the size and scale of Kanat’s pieces have an enormous impact as viewers circle around them. They continue to unfurl and offer themselves in new lights and with new understandings the longer they are contemplated. The works are created through various weaving techniques, the appearance of which – alongside the strength, wisdom and emotions of the women they depict – results in a deep experience. This multi-layered experience is further understood with the knowledge that the pieces carry hidden notes and messages woven into their interiors, reminding us again of these depths of meaning. These notes invite visitors to consider their own strength and the strength of those around us. These invitations are both hidden and boldly on show.

Through Circle of Her, Kanat takes us on her own journey, inviting us to learn more not just about the stories of the women, but also about creative spirit and our own connection with our history and our present. These works expand on previous works of hers that explore womanhood and femininity, bringing a new intensity and taking Kanat’s practice to a new level. The six women on show are central to our understanding of ourselves and our history. These are not distant historical figures – they are companions, guides and collaborators. The hands that wove the threads also wove meaning, seeking connection with Jewish ancestral women whose lives – half-myth, half-history – have echoed through generations. Taken together, they suggest a fuller archetype of Jewish womanhood: complex, strong, tender, enduring. These works, however, are not figurative in the traditional sense; they emerge from the fibre itself. This too is true of Shechinah. Shechinah is not figurative, neither woman nor archetype. Shechinah exists as a guiding presence, inviting deep connection and encouraging us to consider the sacred and the spirit in everyday life. As audiences move through the exhibition, the stories are not linear, instead these figures reveal themselves in the order they were explored by the artist.

Lilith 

Tammy Kanat’s Lilith is bold, complex, and defiant – a powerful beginning to this series and a shift in the artist’s practice. In Jewish mystical tradition, Lilith is considered the first woman, created alongside Adam from the same earth, with equal intent. But when she refuses to lie beneath him, she speaks the Divine Name and leaves the Garden – choosing exile over submission.

Demonised for centuries and feared in ancient amulets, Lilith was long seen as a threat. Yet feminist interpretations have reclaimed her as a symbol of autonomy, courage and resistance. She does not apologise. She insists on mutuality and refuses silence.

Lilith represents the beginning of a human story not of obedience, but of choice. Lilith reminds us that the world, as told in the Torah, was not created complete. It is humans – with all our flaws and freedom – who shape it. In that sacred space of making and remaking, Lilith stands as a guide.  

Ruth 

Ruth’s story is one of loyalty, kindness and radical inclusion. A Moabite woman, she chooses to remain with her Israelite mother-in-law Naomi after her husband’s death, saying: ‘Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.’ In doing so, Ruth becomes a model of devotion – not just to family, but to faith and belonging.  

Ruth arrives in the Torah at a time of hunger and displacement. She gleans fallen grain in the fields to survive, embodying a kind of quiet holiness – found not in ritual, but in how we live: how we care, how we harvest, how we leave space for others. Her story, read every year during Shavuot, reminds us that righteousness can be woven into the fabric of daily life. 

The first work created in the series, Kanat’s Ruth is soft and welcoming, intriguing yet inclusive. Thousands of threads dangle from Ruth, knotted and looped, connected yet individual, as though they have grown directly from this anthropomorphic creature, reminding us of the generations following Ruth and the impact that she has had and continues to have on Jewish life.  

Tamar  

‘The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree’ – Psalm 92:13.

Tamar’s name means date palm – a symbol of strength, grace, and fertility. Her story, nestled deep in the Torah, is one of boldness, dignity and justice. After her husbands die in succession, Tamar is denied her legal right to marry Judah’s remaining son. Refusing to accept this erasure of her role in the family lineage, Tamar acts. Disguised as a prostitute, she confronts Judah directly – securing not only her place in history, but her children’s. When Judah realises the truth, he declares, ‘She is more righteous than I.’ 

According to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, this moment marks the first time in the Torah that someone publicly admits they were wrong – a shift toward moral responsibility. Tamar uses what is available to her – her body, her wit, her silence – to demand justice in a system stacked against her. 

Tammy Kanat’s Tamar is bold, circular and layered with texture. Two grounding orange rocks represent her twin sons, Perez and Zerah – seeds of a future line that leads all the way to King David. In the threads and forms of this piece, we see Tamar not only as mother and matriarch, but as a figure of moral courage and creative resilience. A reminder that women’s fertility, biology and quiet power shape the course of history. 

Miriam 

Miriam – prophetess, sister, protector – emerges from the Torah as a figure of courage, leadership and deep spiritual presence. The older sister of Moses and Aaron, Miriam quietly watches over the infant Moses as he floats in a basket on the Nile, echoed in the shape of Kanat’s Miriam.  

She reappears as a leader in her own right – guiding the Israelites through the Exodus and raising her voice in celebration at the crossing of the Red Sea. Her Song of the Sea, sung with the women in joy and rhythm, is the first recorded communal song in the Bible. 

Miriam’s legacy is intimately tied to water – life-giving, flowing, fierce. The Well of Miriam, said to have followed the Israelites through the wilderness, symbolises both her nurturing presence and her spiritual depth. After her death, the well dries up. Moses falters. Her absence is felt profoundly. 

Tammy Kanat’s Miriam surges like a wall of water – unfurling, coiling, rising. The form reflects not only her connection to water, but her solitary power. Traditionally imagined as a single, childless figure, Miriam embodies a different archetype of womanhood – independent, prophetic and vital.  

Sarah  

Sarah is the first Jewish woman and the first to embody the covenantal promise – ‘the mother of nations.’ Her story is one of faith, doubt, courage and quiet power. Remembered as one of the seven female prophetesses of the Torah, Sarah is not a passive figure but a woman who shapes history from the margins – sometimes through speech, more often through her quiet presence. 

Her legacy is deep – in her longing, her struggle with infertility and her place at the centre of one of the most profound stories in the Torah. For decades she waits for the impossible. At age 90, she laughs when God tells her she will bear a child. And yet, she gives birth to Isaac – Yitzhak, meaning ‘he will laugh.’ That laugh becomes a promise fulfilled. 

Sarah’s role is not without complexity. In desperation, she offers her handmaid Hagar to Abraham, hoping to fulfil the divine plan another way. But when Hagar conceives, Sarah feels displaced. Twice she sends her away – an act of vulnerability, of fierce protection and of painful consequence. 

Kanat’s Sarah is centred – full and swelling with potential, longing and life. The work pulses with colour and softness, evoking the late pregnancy that transformed her life and the future of a people. This fullness is not just of body, but of spirit and complexity. It reminds us that motherhood in the Torah is not idealised – it is fraught, flawed, sacred and deeply human. Sarah was not led by divine voice as Abraham was – she followed, questioned, shaped and endured.  

Esther 

Esther, the Jewish queen of Persia, is celebrated not only for what she did, but for when she did it. At a time of threat and concealment, she reveals herself. At a moment when the divine seems absent, she steps forward. The Book of Esther is unique in the Hebrew Bible – God’s name is not mentioned once. It is a story of Hester Panim, ‘the hiding of God’s face,’ where the burden of action falls squarely on human shoulders. In this silence, Esther acts. 

Chosen for her beauty but revered for her bravery, Esther risks everything to expose a genocidal plot and save her people. Encouraged by her cousin Mordechai, who sees in her the quiet potential for greatness, Esther fasts, prays, and speaks – finding within herself a courage she may not have known she possessed. Her story is marked annually in the festival of Purim, a day of joy, celebration and remembrance of the strength that can emerge in the most unlikely of circumstances. 

In Kanat’s Esther, bold tendrils extend outward – like vines, delicate yet resilient. They stabilise, strengthen and reach, evoking Esther’s own transformation from hidden figure to heroic leader. The sculpture’s regal palette and commanding presence reflect her nobility, not only as a queen but as a model of internal strength and moral clarity. 

Esther teaches us to ask: What does this moment require of me? And in answering, she reminds us that leadership often begins in silence, takes root in fear, and flowers into action. 

Shechinah 

Neither archetype nor person, Shechinah transcends such definitions. She represents the divine presence of God dwelling among us – a sacred nearness that is felt rather than seen. The term Shechinah comes from the Hebrew root Shachan (שָׁכַן), meaning ‘to dwell’ or ‘to reside,’ evoking the intimate idea of God drawing close, embracing creation with care and protection. 

Often personified as the feminine aspect of the divine, Shechinah reminds us that God is beyond gender – neither male nor female – but encompasses many qualities. God is creator, shepherd, king / queen and parent; these are human attempts to relate to the infinite and unknowable.  

In Kanat’s Shechinah, deep reds and crimsons pulse with emotional intensity, suggesting passion, love, and a profound connection to the earth in all its wildness. This work invites us to explore feelings of protection and nourishment, closeness and companionship. Shechinah is a reminder that the divine is both transcendent and imminent – beyond time and yet intimately present in our lives. 

These women and presences are each woven into Jewish history and her-story in different ways, each strong and meaningful. Each leads the way in their own way. This body of work provides not merely a visual experience, but also a tactile, emotional and spiritual encounter. Although they offer a full spectrum of emotion, there is an unmistakable sense of joy in the exhibition – a joy that arises from creativity and discovery. At its core, The Circle of Her is about honouring the threads that shape us, the women we come from – those beside us, those to come, and the ones we carry within. Like the spiral – a sacred form in many spiritual traditions – so Kanat’s work invites us to circle back and learn from history, to deepen our connections and understanding and to think about our own contributions into the future. The circle does not end. It expands.