Interview held on zoom on 17^th September 2025, recorded, transcribed and edited by Aude Le Guennec and Anne-Charlotte Hartmann-Bragard (ALG & ACH).

SM: Sarah Marsh

SJ: Stephanie Jefferies

GT: Gina Tsang

Introduction

1HoLD Art Collective, an English collaborative project developed since 2022 between Sarah Marsh and Stephanie Jefferies, focuses primarily upon interaction design, exploring the playful and therapeutic properties of sensory encounters with sculptural, textile forms.

3The hard, concrete space of Tate Modern’s South Tank was softened with hundreds of ergonomic, dimpled and weighted soft sculptural objects that echoed the body-like forms found within Tanning’s work. Wearable items were adapted and manipulated to create external, partially wearable, “huggable” shapes to slot into the curves of the body, to wrap, envelop or hold. Weighted sections aimed to provide the pressure of a hug, and lavender scent aimed to evoke feelings of calm. The forms varied in size; some small enough to nestle into the crook of an arm, be cradled or squeezed. Others large enough to lay within, to drag and crawl over. The fabrics used were selected for their sensory qualities, pleasant and soothing against the skin, flexible enough to wrap and bend around the body. These textile forms were encountered within a multimodal space: meditative motion films were projected onto the concrete walls, showing hands interacting with the textile sculpture, offering a visual prompt and inspiration. And a soothing soundscape created from the sounds of fabrics, composed using “Solfeggio frequencies”, which the artists have found to have a calming effect on the body and mind.

4Fundamental to this research project was the need to evoke a physical and emotional response in a broad spread of audiences, using textiles and fabrics to create an encompassing space, a safe place, that was calming and promoted focused interaction.

1. Hold Art Collective

ALG & ACH: Could you introduce yourselves and your artistic portfolio?

SJ: I’m Stephanie Jefferies, the other half of Hold Art Collective. I’m an artist and play designer with a background in Montessori education and early years development. Textiles have always been central to my practice. Working with Sarah over the last few years has allowed me to return to textiles after spending a long time in gallery education, working across different materials and with community groups. Reconnecting with textiles has been really special.

GT: I’m Gina Tsang. I’m an artist, curator, and educator. Currently, I’m Curator for Early Years and Families at Tate Modern, overseeing “UNIQLO Tate Play”, an intergenerational programme with a focus on children and families. It began in 2021 with a three-year sponsorship and was extended to 2029. My background is in philosophy, but I retrained as an early year’s teacher, working with nursery children before moving into gallery education. I also practice as an artist, focusing on installation and video work.

SM: It’s interesting that Steph, Gina, and I all share a gallery education background as well as being practicing artists. That dual perspective—understanding both gallery systems and participatory artistic practice—really shapes our work.

ALG & ACH: Could you present Hold Art Collective?

SM: We’re Hold Art Collective, and we create art to hold and to be held within. Our immersive environments use textiles, sensory materials, and sculptural objects to foster calm and playful experiences. Drawing on early years and Montessori practice, and working with neurodivergent and SEND audiences, we craft spaces for tactile connections, joyful encounters, and shared memories.

ALG & ACH: What was the reasoning behind working together? How did this concept develop?

SJ: We both had been working alone for a long time and found it hard to find practitioners who shared our level of motivation and sensitivity. Meeting felt like the right moment to stop working in isolation. Our partners were tired of hearing us talking about our work—we both needed someone equally invested to share ideas with.

Being mothers also played a role: collaborating meant having someone to share responsibilities with, whether in work or in life. Sarah’s focus on textiles, including industrial sewing techniques tested with autistic children and families, complemented my experience in gallery education, designing play spaces, and project-managing large-scale installations. Together, we could merge textile knowledge with spatial design.

SM: Individually, we were each doing strong work, but together it became something bigger—a whole. I often picture Steph as the “outer shell” and myself as the “inner shell”, though we switch roles depending on the project. Our practice continues to grow through this exchange.

2.  From inspirations to experimentations in child-informed art practice

ALG & ACH: How has your practice developed over the years and followed your artistic and educational experience with children?

I became interested in how weight and malleability affected interaction. For example, I made soft lines with wire inside, which children could bend into three-dimensional drawings or small spaces to crawl into. Since my Polish wasn’t strong and some children were non-verbal, we removed verbal language altogether and communicated through actions and materials.

I observed children engaging in very tactile ways: some explored materials with bare feet, others bit into Lycra bags filled with lentils, enjoying the resistance and stretch. Others liked the compression of being tightly wrapped in fabric, or the light touch of voile draped over them. These encounters showed me how fabrics could ground children, regulate them, or provide comfort—and that learning has shaped our work ever since.

This grew from my earlier practice. At art college, I studied interdisciplinary art and design, and I always made large textile play sculptures—sometimes giant, womb-like forms exploring motherhood and womanhood. Later, during an exchange in the Netherlands, I worked in a Montessori crèche. There I realised how play, action, and demonstration could replace spoken language. Teachers designed their own classroom materials, directly responding to children’s needs.

3. The Joy of Feeling at Tate Modern

ALG & ACH: Let’s move to The Joy of Feeling. Gina, what attracted you to Sarah and Stephanie’s work, and how did it connect with the aims of the UNIQLO Tate Play programme?

At Tate, I curate UNIQLO Tate Play, which is about intergenerational engagement. Our programming is quite flexible; we don’t always start with a fixed brief. In this case, I simply wanted to meet Sarah and Stephanie and talk about their practice. There was an immediate sense of kinship, and it felt natural to collaborate.

At the time, our yearly themes included joy of not knowing, joy of feeling, and joy of togetherness. Their work aligned beautifully with joy of feeling—durable, sensory, and thoughtful, in contrast to more disposable gallery activities. I wanted to present their rich, bespoke approach to our large audiences, many of whom are families with young children.

ALG & ACH: And how does this partnership fit within the UNIQLO sponsorship?

GT: UNIQLO Tate Play has been delivered in partnership with UNIQLO since 2021. Their ethos is “Made for All” and in their partnership with Tate this programme promotes their mission of “Art for All”. The programme content is decided by curators within the project team who propose relevant artists, in this case for this event I proposed Sarah and Steph.

ALG & ACH: What was the starting point for the installation?

SJ: We began by visiting the Tanks with Gina and exploring works in the Tate collection. Dorothea Tanning’s textile-based sculptures particularly resonated with us. Her piece Nue Couchée—an abstracted body form made of fabric—spoke directly to our practice.

After her husband’s death, Tanning made paintings of forms being held or cradled, reflecting her longing for comfort. That idea of nurturing and holding strongly echoed what we aim to do with our own work. We borrowed her colour palette, her abstract bodily forms, and the theme of being cradled.

SM: Yes, her work connected visually and conceptually with things I’d been making. We were especially inspired by how she represented being nurtured, cradled, and enveloped—exactly what we hope our textile environments can offer.

SJ: From that inspiration, we designed large-scale forms for the Tanks: golden Lycra swings intended to cradle and rock, smaller objects shaped to fit into the body’s contours, and soft sculptural pieces that could be worn or held.

ALG & ACH: Could you explain more about the interactions that you wanted to create with children and their carers/parents?

SM: Our goal was to offer multiple sensory encounters: hugging, holding, climbing, collecting, or simply lying down and resting. The Tanks are vast, concrete spaces, so softening them with fabric was key. We added soundscapes and projections of our hands manipulating fabrics, mirrored to create hypnotic visuals.

Children could gather small objects, transport them down chutes, squeeze lavender-scented forms, lie on large corduroy mounds, or swing in Lycra cocoons. Parents with babies could walk through sheer voiles, brushing their infants with fabric. A wide wooden slide was upholstered so that even children who use wheelchairs could be lifted onto it and experience sliding, surrounded by sculptural forms.

The idea was to create opportunities for joy, connection, and shared experience, whether through play or rest.

SJ: We think carefully about play schemas—the repeated patterns children use to explore the world, like transporting, enclosing, transforming, or rotating. Our sculptures are designed to support these: long forms for wrapping and connecting, swings for orientation, weighted objects for pushing and pulling. We wanted to provide for all those instinctive modes of play, but in a way that felt beautiful and respectful.

ALG & ACH: Were you surprised by the ways children interacted with the installation?

SJ: Always. Children invent new uses we could never predict. For example, we expected small objects to be carried or transported individually, but instead groups of children dragged their friends around the space on our larger forms. Because the floor was smooth concrete, dragging became a favourite activity, and rotation games—spinning around and around—emerged naturally.

GT: I also wondered if the dragging was partly a way to cushion themselves against the cold floor.

ALG & ACH: Did these unexpected uses influence the installation itself, its evolution and maybe future works?

SJ: Yes, definitely. Those large textile forms were originally designed to hang, but the Tanks’ high ceilings made it unsafe. Instead, we left them on the floor, and children immediately used their reinforced handles for pulling. It showed us how much children enjoy “dragging play”, so now we’re planning more pull-along and drag-along textile sculptures.

Earlier projects taught us similar lessons. For example, baby mats I made at the Tetley Studio were intended as safe, soft spaces for infants. But older children used them as sliding mats, which they loved. So for Joy of Feeling, we purposely made slide mats with hoops for dragging. Reflective observation constantly reshapes our designs.

SM: I’ve also kept feedback from autistic children in past projects. One said clothes felt like “butter slipping off”, another couldn’t bear socks. That heightened sensitivity to texture made me realise how important it is to offer weighted fabrics or multiple textures. Not everyone loves velvet, for example, but we’ve rarely had pushback when it’s weighted or scented. We now also include imitation sheepskin, after seeing one child spend hours joyfully rubbing against it.

ALG & ACH: So, it’s not just an invitation—it’s a deliberate choice of materials to create these interactions and foster some kind of bonding with the installation?

SM: Exactly. It’s the result of years of experimentation and close observation.

4. The impact of The Joy of Feeling

GT: Joy of Feeling was such a beautiful project, and its impact still lingers. The installation offered a rare and powerful invitation for children to connect with their bodies, emotions, and each other through touch, weight and texture. The use of textiles created a sense of softness and safety, allowing for open-ended exploration and emotional expression. We witnessed moments of joy, focus, and calm—especially among children who are often overwhelmed in more rigid or overstimulating environments. The work brought a quiet magic into the space, one that honoured children’s sensitivity and natural creativity.

ALG & ACH: How were these interactions documented? And what feedback did you receive?

GT: We gathered insights through surveys and interviews—about 400 visitors were spoken to. Attendance was extraordinary: nearly 13,000 people over nine days, with queues of up to two hours. Word spread quickly on social media, and numbers doubled after the first weekend.

What was particularly striking was the dwell time. Families stayed for 45 minutes on average, which is very long for gallery activities. Nearly 90% of visitors came specifically for this event, compared with our usual mix of drop-ins. And under-fives, who are often underserved in galleries, made up 35% of visitors—far above Tate’s usual 2%.

Feedback highlighted the calming, immersive atmosphere. People described it as beautiful, inviting, and family-friendly, very different from the noisy, brightly coloured soft play spaces they were used to. One six-year-old said, “It feels like a museum in our neighbourhood, somewhere we can relax.”

SM: It was also notable that the calmness of the space allowed us to safely increase visitor capacity after the first day.

GT: Yes, and the soundscape made a huge difference. Staff noticed how children’s behaviour shifted with the music—it calmed the space, then energy would rise again when it paused.

ALG & ACH: Tell me more about the soundtrack.

5

The resulting soundscape reflected not only joy, but the full spectrum of feelings: sadness, awe, overwhelm. It was deeply connected to Dorothea Tanning’s themes, and it gave the installation an enveloping presence.

SM: Fabric was everywhere—in the sound, in the visuals, and throughout the physical space.

ALG & ACH: Did you get specific feedback from teachers, educators or carers?

SM: We didn’t work directly with this audience but received feedback from them that came through social media, and particularly Instagram, which is powerful for connecting with people. Care workers and teachers reached out saying how much they valued the space.

SJ: Yes, many wanted to collaborate—like a Japanese teacher who contacted us—but it’s not always possible due mostly to limited budgets in education. But we’ve both been influenced by various experiences of working directly in schools, nursery or even in care homes with dementia patients. What’s striking is that the same textile objects work across different audiences, from early years to older people.

SM: Some of our pieces are used in therapy. For instance, I make heated, weighted bags embroidered with care, used in massage. They rest along the spine to prepare the body. Beauty is essential in these objects—everything we create is meant to be functional and beautiful, with memory and story embedded in the fabrics.

SJ: It feels like all the threads of our work—education, textiles, sculpture—are now stitching together.

ALG & ACH: Anne-Charlotte often writes about the sense of beauty in materials. Do you think beauty makes a difference in the way young people connect to their environment and arts?

SJ: Definitely. When a child walks into a space that’s beautiful, they feel respected. Montessori practice emphasises this: considering not just function but feel and sound. For example, you’d use a carved wooden bowl instead of plastic, because it feels and sounds better. Children are drawn to beauty, and it gives them a sense of integrity.

SM: Yes, it elevates both the objects and the child. Just as we want our parks and streets well cared for, children deserve environments that are aesthetically cared for. It shows importance.

SJ: And it’s not just for children. Parents and carers also need nurturing. We design safe spaces where adults can sit, rest, and enjoy textures and colours. Play and rest go hand in hand, so we always provide for both. We spend a lot of time on colour choices too, finding the perfect hues that harmonise is central to our practice.

ALG & ACH: What we love in your work is the use of abstraction—forms that can’t be easily defined. For children and parents alike, that opens imagination.

SJ: Yes, abstract objects expand play possibilities. Like in Waldorf education, where a stick can be anything, our textile forms can be endlessly reimagined.

SJ: Adults joined in too—it was beautiful to see.

ALG & ACH: It’s fantastic to see a national institution like Tate taking the risk to present installations dedicated to young people, that create immersive experiences and centred on beauty. This shows museums’ evolving social role—creating ownership, connection, and joy in a difficult world.

SJ: Yes, and that sense of ownership is key. By making spaces where children and families feel respected, we help them connect with art as something that belongs to them.

SM: For us, it’s also about embedding memory and personal history into the work. Many of our objects are based on fashion patterns, redrafted into sculptural forms. For example, a sleeve pattern can be enlarged into a giant holding form. It’s about transforming something intimate and everyday into something monumental and shared to facilitate this bond.

SJ: And making it wearable—not as costume, but as sculptural form. Something to inhabit, hold, or be held by.

ALG & ACH: That’s what makes the work so powerful: abstraction, beauty, and transformation, all made accessible to children and families.