Art: MURALS OF WOOL

IN THE midst of a booming technological age, ancient crafts have managed not only to survive, but actually flourish. A prime example is France’s centuries-old weaving industry, which was revitalized by a handful of dedicated artists headed by Jean Lurcat and Marcel Gromaire during the grim days of the World War II German occupation. Working in Aubusson close to the looms, and designing sketches in some 50 colors (v. 1,440 tones used by 19th century weavers), modern French tapestry designers have made the old craft into a contemporary medium.

For the first time in a decade, France’s 14-year-old Association of Tapestry Painter-Designers has sent to the U.S. a major traveling exhibition of its current work—36 tapestries by 18 of the 26 association members. On view last week at Washington’s National Housing Center, the handsome exhibition (see color) makes clear the appropriateness of tapestries with modern interiors. Much as the great stone baronial halls of the past needed the warmth and texture of wool, modern interiors tend to be cold and overly machined in appearance. Today’s nomads, moving from one apartment to the next, are also likely to appreciate a major wall covering that can be rolled up like a rug, transported easily from one place to the next.

Mario Prassinos’ large (79 in. by 99 in.) Winter and Mathieu Mategot’s Cosmorama (86 in. by 161 in.) would brighten any bare modern wall. Purists argue that translation from painted sketch to woven wool muffles the impact of the artist’s intent. Certainly, tapestry has rarely been a medium for great art. But for works short of the greatest, tapestries have a disarming informality, and a richness of warp and weft that compensates for the loss of the immediacy that only the artist’s brush can give.