Leah Creaven’s work with rug tufting is more than just a mastery of technique, it’s an intimate exploration of memory, emotion, and storytelling. Based in Whangamatā, she not only creates intricate woolen artworks but also fosters a creative hub through workshops that introduce others to the medium.

Her pieces, often deeply personal, invite viewers to connect through colour, texture, and the shared human experience. In this Q&A, Leah shares insights into her artistic process, the impact of her creative community, and how recognition in galleries and publications has shaped her journey.

Rug tufting is a tactile and intricate medium. Can you describe your process and what draws you to this art form?

My process is pretty concept-driven. I find it hard to create work freely without having some idea or connection to its story beforehand. I spend a lot of time daydreaming, mind-mapping, and drawing before I even touch the fabric. There’s all this mental groundwork that happens first, and then I begin rug tufting.

One of the best things about this medium is the opportunity to work with wool. There is no better fibre, and I’m proud to be working with New Zealand wool. It adds a sense of place and identity to my work, making it even more meaningful.

Your Whangamatā studio also serves as a creative hub for workshops. How do these sessions inspire or shape your personal practice?

Workshops are an important part of my practice in so many ways. I mostly work alone, so having time in my studio with others fills my social cup. I’ve met some of the most incredible and hilarious people, many of whom I end up learning a lot from.

It’s also inspiring to make art alongside others, especially those new to rug tufting. They come at it from completely different angles, which can be so refreshing! Seeing how they interpret the medium reminds me to stay open and experimental in my own work.

You’ve said your work is often tied to feelings or emotions. How do you hope viewers emotionally connect with your pieces?

In any way, really. I think a big part of engaging with art is feeling comfortable with your own response, whether it’s strong or subtle, or even if you don’t feel anything at all. There’s no pressure.

My work often illustrates personal memories and experiences, but I hope that by putting them out there, they encourage others to reflect on their own. I also use strong, bright colours, which can evoke different emotions. Naturally, I’d love it if everyone felt something when viewing my work, but it’s not essential.

Winning the Glenda Saunders Colour Award and featuring in publications like British Vogue are significant accomplishments. How have these achievements influenced your career?

It feels really great to receive recognition for the hard work! I think it’s safe to say that imposter syndrome floats in and out of most artists’ lives, so these moments were like a big thumbs-up, keep going.

They’ve definitely helped build my confidence in my career. Seeing my work in these spaces validates what I’m doing and reminds me that I’m on the right track.

How has working with galleries, museums, and publications shaped your understanding of your art and its place in the world?

It’s incredibly motivating. Seeing my work in these spaces reinforces the creative possibilities of rug tufted textiles as a serious art medium. It’s amazing to see people curious and excited about woolen artwork.

Galleries and publications help me understand and communicate the narratives embedded in my work. They also push me to think more expansively about my practice not just in terms of technique, but in relation to its historical roots, social impact, and contemporary relevance.

Leah Creaven’s practice is an evolving exploration of material, memory, and meaning. Through her work with New Zealand wool, she honours both tradition and innovation, transforming a tactile craft into a powerful storytelling medium.

Whether tufting alone in her studio, hosting workshops in Whangamatā, or exhibiting her pieces in galleries, Leah continues to challenge perceptions of textile art. Her journey is one of connection—between artist and medium, between past and present, and ultimately, between the work and those who experience it.

February 13, 2025