The Quiet Power of Touch in Art

Tactility

noun

  • the capability of being felt or touched

  • responsiveness to stimulation of the sense of touch

    My interest in tactility developed through the research I carried out when I first started exploring plaster for my MA. It has come to play an important role in my practice, guiding both my process and my sense of calm. Now, as well as thinking about colour and composition, I also notice how something feels - the cool smoothness of the plaster or the slight resistance of acrylic on raw paper - and I allow these sensations to inform my work. Being aware of touch slows me down and connects me more deeply with both myself and my materials. 

Playing with plaster

This isn’t a new idea. At the Bauhaus, artists like László Moholy-Nagy placed enormous value on touch as a way of training perception. Through tactile exercises, he encouraged students to explore materials with their hands - to feel textures, temperature, weight/surface qualities and create tactile charts or touch boards. Moholy-Nagy believed that we understand the world more fully when we allow the senses to work together rather than placing vision above everything else. Croatian designer and former Bauhaus student Otti Berger wrote in her 1930 essay Stoffe Im Raum:

“The beauty of fabric is above all known by its feel…Grasping fabric in the hands can be just as beautiful an experience as colour can be to the eye or sound to the ear “.

(Berger 2024)

Sheila Hicks Exhibition at Toronto Textile Museum

In an interview with Katy Hessel (2022), textile artist Sheila Hicks also talked about the importance of touch and the pleasure of “reading things with your fingers as well as your eyes”. She goes on to talk about the sensitivity of touch on the bottom of her feet. I found it fascinating to hear her explaining how she puts textured pieces under her feet to stimulate her brain when she’s working at her computer. 

I find these ideas incredibly relevant today. We live in a highly visual world dominated by digital screens and image overload. Touch is often reduced to something purely functional. Yet when we work with our hands and really pay attention to how things feel, then touch becomes something else entirely. It becomes a way understanding - a way of noticing the subtle things that the eyes alone might skip over.

Chisel and plaster

In my own practice, tactility plays a guiding role. The plaster, fabric and papers I use each bring different qualities that I respond to. I play with the contrast and try to listen to what the surfaces tells me. Sometimes the softness of a surface might encourage me to work with a light touch or the feeling of roughness might make me want to layer more. These small physical cues help to build the work and I make decisions based on feeling as well as seeing. The process becomes a conversation between my hands and the materials.

There is also a strong link between tactility and wellbeing. When we work with our hands, something shifts. When I was recovering from Long Covid, I turned to slow stitching. The movement of the needle and feel of the fabric in my hand helped me to move into the present moment and stop focusing on my symptoms. Many people describe feeling calmer after tactile work, and I think that’s because the senses act as grounding anchors. Touch connects us back to our bodies, which in turn helps to quieten the mind.

Slow stitch completed when I was at a low point with Long Covid

For anyone wanting to cultivate a stronger sense of touch in their own practice, it helps to focus on exploration rather than outcomes. Try playing with materials without the pressure of making something finished. Spend time rubbing, tearing, folding, pressing, or layering. Try to notice how the materials and processes feel rather than how they look. Pay attention to where your hands slow down or speed up. These small discoveries give you a deeper understanding of your materials and build a kind of tactile vocabulary you can return to in your work. 

Tactility offers a different way of understanding the world and ourselves. It helps us to notice more. It brings us closer to the process instead of rushing toward the end result. If you’re curious, begin simply with your materials: feel the edges, textures, the way they respond in your hand. Follow those sensations - sometimes you will be surprised by what they reveal.

If you would like to follow more of my explorations into materials and process, you’re welcome to join me on Instagram - there’s a link at the bottom of the page!


References

Berger, O. (2024) Weaving for Modernist Architecture. Edited by J. Raum. Berlin: Hatje Cantz. ISBN: 978-3-7757-5500

Berger, O. (1930) ‘Stoffe im Raum’, *ReD (Revue Devětsilu)*, 3(5), pp. 143–145

Hessel, K. (2022) The Great Women Artists Podcast, episode 80: Sheila Hicks, interview by Katy Hessel, first broadcast [date unknown]. SoundCloud. Available at: https://soundcloud.com/thegreatwomenartists/sheila-hicks

Sheila Hicks Image By U.S. Embassy and Consulates in Canada - Sheila Hicks Exhibition at Toronto Textile Museum, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=152539178