Thread by Thread: Anne Lindberg and Piper Shepard at the Academy
May 28, 2025 by Val Cavalheri
It started in 1986 in a tight-knit fiber cohort at Cranbrook Academy of Art. That’s where Anne Lindberg and Piper Shepard first met—two young artists drawn to textile, space, and the possibilities of working with their hands. Nearly forty years later, they’re showing side-by-side at the Academy Art Museum (AAM) in Easton. Their solo exhibitions, seen and unseen by Lindberg and Fields, Voids, and Translations: Works on Paper and Textiles by Shepard, occupy separate spaces but feel in conversation—with each other, with the building, and with those stopping by to look.
“When I came to the museum last fall,” said Lindberg, “I was encouraged to make the project in a fairly narrow, two-story space at the north end of the museum. And so it became quickly apparent to me that if I built something in that space, you would see part of it on the first floor, and you would need to go to the second floor to see the rest of it. So quite literally, it’s seen and unseen.”
seen, 2025 graphite, Flashe, acrylic and colored pencil on mat board 60 x 70 inches by Anne Lindberg
Her installation consists of thousands of fine chromatic threads stretched from wall to wall, forming a diaphanous field of color. From a distance, it looks like light or film. “Lots of questions come about,” she said. “Is this light? Is this paint? What is it? And eventually, you do discover what it is and what it might mean to you.”
The same rhythm lives in Lindberg’s graphite drawings. “There are thousands of lines tightly stacked together,” she said. “My arm is moving from one side of the board to the other. So it’s almost as if each of those lines is a breath. They often take me more than one breath, but they’re an expression. And then I lift the pencil, return to the start point again, and carry on with another one.” She describes it as rhythmic, paced, and slow. “We’re also aware when we breathe—of a big breath or a short breath. So the metaphor of the breath makes a lot of sense to me.”
Like Shepard, Lindberg is interested in how a viewer first encounters the work with their body. “The drawings and thread installations greet you through your gut first, your physiology. And then maybe later you start asking analytical questions—what am I looking at?”
That physical, sensory entry point is something both artists lean into, even if their methods differ. For Shepard, it begins with familiar material. “There’s something so accessible about textile,” Shepard said. “We all know it so well—we wear it every day. So that ubiquity, that accessibility, allows me to connect with the audience.”
Shepherd’s panels—some as tall as a doorway—are hand-cut with surgical precision. “It’s a subtractive process,” she said. “Yet at the same time, I’m making a work that becomes present through what’s taken away.” Cutouts become lace, and lace becomes architecture. “I’m working with the kind of in-between space of light and shadow, of presence and absence, of the haptic and the optic.”
Once the form is complete, she adds a layer of graphite. “I start with drawing in order to create the imagery or the pattern that I’m making,” she said. “Then, by layering it with graphite, it’s the suspended drawing in space you’re experiencing.”
Thicket, 2023, 13’ x 10’, handout muslin, gesso, graphite, aluminum armature by Piper Shepard
Although both artists were trained in fiber, they have since moved beyond their traditions. “We’re making work with textile materials or in textile ways,” said Lindberg, “but not in traditional ways.” She sees this exhibit as part of a larger shift: “The place of textiles in contemporary art has changed, certainly in the time that we’ve made work. We’ve watched that change, and that’s been rewarding and exciting.”Their shared history makes the exhibit feel like more than just a pairing. “We’ve been in conversation since graduate school,” Shepard said. “Even if we weren’t in the same place, we’ve always been talking. There’s just a long-standing dialogue between our work.”
Besides the dialogue, they’ve also collaborated formally in the past—at the Kansas City Art Institute, where they both taught in the ’90s, and later on exhibitions that combined Shepard’s textile printing with Lindberg’s printmaking. One early piece involved a sculptural base and three large textiles. “The middle one we worked on together,” said Lindberg. “Piper made one, I made one, and the third we made together.” In another collaboration, they used cameras to photograph landscapes, then each transformed the imagery into large-scale environmental work—Shepard through silk screen printing and Lindberg through carved wood.
Even now, they still approach space the same way. “How do we want people to experience the work?” Shepard said. “How do they move through it? How does the architecture shape their experience?” That kind of thinking, she added, “has been a part of our conversation since 1986.”
It’s also a part of their lineage. Their mentor at Cranbrook, Gerhardt Knodel, urged them to think about textiles on a larger scale. “He understood that textiles can have an impact at scale,” Lindberg said. “They don’t have to be intimate. They can be architectural.” She referenced historical examples like the “wild man tapestries” that stretched across castle walls. “He showed us those and said, ‘You can work this way.’”
That respect for size and for the women in the field who shaped it continues to ground both artists. “We had really strong women role models,” said Shepard. “Olga de Amaral, Magdalena Abakanowicz, Joyce Scott, Anni Albers—people who believed in textile as a serious form. I’m forever grateful.”
For Shepard, Anni Albers remains a constant touchstone. “She was the first textile artist to have a solo show at MoMA,” she said. “She wrote an essay in 1957—The Pliable Plane—and it’s still one of the most important texts for anyone thinking about textile and architecture,” Lindberg added that even the campus of Cranbrook was steeped in that legacy. “It was designed by Eliel Saarinen,” she said. “And his wife, Loja, was a weaver. Her work is everywhere—on the walls, under the windows, in the chapel. We were encouraged to sit under it, touch it, and be around it. It was part of our education.”
Their exhibitions in Easton may be solo shows, but the friendship is threaded through both. “We don’t see each other as often these days,” said Lindberg, who lives in the Hudson Valley. Shepard is based in Baltimore. But their work remains in conversation—on the walls, in the air, and across the space between.
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Lindberg: seen and unseen runs through Fall 2026
Shepard: Fields, Voids, and Translations runs through October 12, 2025
Academy Art Museum
Both exhibitions are located at the Academy Art Museum, 106 South Street, Easton, Maryland. For more information, visit academyartmuseum.org.