There is a quiet discipline to Chris Soal’s work. It does not announce itself all at once. Instead, it asks for time. Working with materials most would overlook, Soal builds surfaces that sit somewhere between the familiar and the unexpected. Toothpicks, bottle caps, sandpaper. Objects defined by function, reconsidered through repetition, patience, and close observation.

For this collaboration with FIELDS, that same approach moves into a new context. A sandpaper work, shaped through abrasion, is translated into woven textile. The result is not a direct reproduction, but a shift in material language. Something that carries the same logic of constraint, process, and discovery.

We spoke to Soal about material, transformation, and what it means to really look.

 

 

1. Your work has garnered attention for its distinctive style and narrative depth. Could you share the guiding philosophy behind your art? How do you approach translating complex ideas into visual form?

Much of my work begins with paying close attention to the materials that surround us in everyday life. I am drawn to objects that are often overlooked, things like toothpicks, beer bottle caps, concrete, or sandpaper, and the moments when they reveal something beyond their intended function.

A swirl of toothpicks can begin to resemble a Fibonacci spiral. A bent bottle cap can recall the form of a seashell. The cracks running through concrete start to read like geological fault lines. Sandpaper wears down in ways that record the surface it encounters. These small moments of recognition are often where a body of work begins.

From there, I spend time working with the material, often quite playfully, investigating it until that sense of otherness starts to emerge. Each material carries its own agency, along with social history and cultural associations. I am interested in tapping into that broader language.

By transforming these familiar materials, the work asks a larger question. If we are so quick to disregard a toothpick or a bottle cap because it sits low in our hierarchy of value, what else, or who else, might we be overlooking in the same way?

 

2. Your collaboration with FIELDS brings your artwork into the realm of fashion. What drew you to this partnership, and how does working in fashion differ from your usual artistic mediums?

What interested me about collaborating with FIELDS was the opportunity to see the work translated through a completely different medium and process.

The sandpaper image that forms the basis of this collaboration was reinterpreted through tapestry weaving. That process has its own logic and constraints, particularly when working within the limitations of four threads and the specific language of the loom.

I found that compelling because it mirrors something I often encounter in the studio. Working creatively within boundaries and allowing the limitations of a material to guide the outcome.

There is also something interesting about seeing the work move into a different context. Most of my sculptures are encountered briefly in galleries or museums. Fashion operates differently. A garment moves through the world and becomes part of someone’s daily environment.

I like that sense of circulation, where a work can move from everyday material, through the studio and the art world, and then return to everyday life in another form.

 

3. Your work often transforms everyday materials into something unexpected. Did that way of thinking influence how you approached this collaboration with FIELDS?

Very much so. A large part of my practice involves taking materials that have a specific practical purpose and pushing them beyond that role.

Sandpaper, for example, is usually just a tool used to shape other materials. In this body of work, it becomes the surface of the image itself.

With this collaboration, that same logic of transformation continues. An image of an ocean surface first emerges through a process of abrasion in the sandpaper print, and is then translated again through weaving into the textile structure of the garment.

Seeing that process move through different material languages, from sandpaper to woven fabric, felt like a natural extension of the work. It is another way of developing the familiar to the point where it becomes something unexpected.

 

 

4. What do you hope someone notices, or feels, when they wear something from this collaboration?

I hope there is a quiet sense of discovery in it.

At first glance, the pattern might read simply as texture or abstraction. Over time, the image begins to consolidate. The surface of the ocean slowly emerges from what initially appears as a field of marks.

There is also a tension in the pattern. It carries a visual language that feels close to camouflage, something designed to hide in plain sight, yet the palette shifts it into shades of blue, suggesting water rather than landscape.

That idea of camouflage connects to my practice more broadly. Surfaces that reveal themselves slowly. Things that appear ordinary until you spend enough time with them.

I have always appreciated how FIELDS garments share that same quality. They are understated, nuanced, and quietly distinctive.

If anything, I hope the collaboration invites a slower kind of attention, allowing the wearer to carry that process of looking and discovery into everyday life.

Images by: Matt Slater photography and Cari de Scally

The artwork by Chris Soals is part of the FIELDS Artist Collaboration Series, an ongoing exploration of creativity across disciplines.

The collection includes:

  • FIELDS x Chris Soal Sweater in Wool & Mohair
  • FIELDS x Chris Soal Tote in Cotton
  • FIELDS x Chris Soal Simple Sweater in Cotton
  • FIELDS x Chris Soal Field Jacket