CONSTRUCTING DWELLING: IN CONVERSATION WITH MARO FASOULI

| by Barbara Pavan |

The notion of habitat – understood not simply as a physical structure, but as a space of energies, relationships and collective gestures – lies at the core of Maro Fasouli’s artistic research. Her work approaches dwelling not merely as the architectural boundary separating interior and exterior spaces, but as a broader cultural and social condition shaped by the frameworks through which societies organise private and public life. Rather than focusing on the protective function of walls and thresholds, Fasouli is interested in opening up the very idea of dwelling: the relationship between space and its inhabitant, and the ways in which this relationship is constructed through shared systems of perception, labour and social organisation.

Over the years her research has turned toward what is commonly referred to as “anonymous” or “folk” architecture in Greece. These forms of pre-capitalist habitation, which today may appear rudimentary by contemporary standards, were once capable of generating cohesive social structures and strong communal bonds. As transformations in economic systems and production models gradually pushed these building traditions toward disappearance – relegating them to what might be described as an archaeology of architecture – Fasouli’s interest is not driven by nostalgia nor by a desire to recover a fossilised past. Rather, her investigation seeks to understand how these structures may still offer insights into the conditions that make a space feel familiar, intimate and inhabitable, approaching what Freud described as the dimension of the heimlich: the space of the domestic, the recognisable and the lived.

Working across sculpture, installation and textile-based processes, Fasouli translates these reflections into spatial constructions that often occupy the threshold between craft traditions and architectural thinking. Weaving, binding and assembling become strategies that are not only material but also conceptual, through which the artist explores how surfaces, structures and environments can generate new relationships between body, space and landscape.

Maro Fasouli studied Painting between 2000 and 2005 and in 2009 completed her postgraduate studies at the Department of Visual Arts of the Athens School of Fine Arts. Over the years she has developed a practice that moves fluidly between textile processes, sculptural structures and large-scale spatial installations. Her work has received important recognition: in 2023 she was awarded the Art Prize of the G. & A. Mamidakis Foundation, while in 2021 she received the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Artist Fellowship through the organisation Artworks. Since 2008 she has also been a founding member of the artist collective Under Construction, a platform dedicated to collaborative artistic research and experimentation.

Her work has been presented in several solo exhibitions, including A House As Big As You Need And Land As Far As You Can See at CAN Christina Androulidaki Gallery in Athens (2024) and From the Elbow to the Wrist at the Athens Municipality Arts Center (2020), curated by Christoforos Marinos. Over the years Fasouli has also participated in numerous international group exhibitions, including Biennale Révélations at the Grand Palais in Paris (2025), Liminality at Citronne Gallery in Athens (2024), Persephone’s Nightmare at Exomvourgo, Tinos (2023), Limassol After Development What? in Limassol, Cyprus (2022), Weaving Worlds at the American College of Greece (Deree) in Athens (2022), Four – plus one – Elements at the Kinono Residency Program in Tinos (2022), thenSYN II: Going Viral at Steinzeit Gallery in Berlin (2022), Eidyllia Odos at Technopolis City of Athens (2022), Radium Palace at K-Gold Temporary Gallery in Lesvos (2021), and Weaving the Future Part III at the Municipal Gallery of Shkodër in Albania (2021). She is represented by CAN Christina Androulidaki Gallery in Athens.

In the following conversation, we explored the conceptual foundations of her research and the evolution of her artistic practice in greater depth, discussing the role of textiles, craft traditions and spatial construction within her work.

How did you come to use textiles and fibers in your artistic practice?

My work developed through an interest in vernacular traditions and the forms of knowledge embedded in everyday material practices. Textiles initially offered a way to approach these traditions not simply as decorative artefacts but as structural systems that organise labour, domestic space and social relations. Through archival research and close engagement with craft traditions, I began to understand weaving as a form of spatial thinking. The woven surface is not only a textile object but also a structure that negotiates boundaries – between inside and outside, body and architecture. Since 2020 my practice has gradually shifted from the textile object toward spatial installations. While weaving remains a conceptual reference, its logic now appears translated into architectural structures, surfaces and temporary constructions that interact directly with the exhibition space and the surrounding landscape.

Textile and body: how does this combination fit together in your artworks?

Traditional weaving is deeply embedded in bodily gestures, rhythms and systems of measurement. In my work the body operates both as a unit of scale and as a spatial reference. Rather than representing the body, I incorporate its logic into the construction of the work. The scale of the structures, the height of surfaces and the way the viewer navigates the installation are often determined by bodily proportions and movement. In this sense the body functions as an underlying framework through which spatial relationships are organised.

What techniques do you use to create your works?

My process often begins with research into vernacular architecture, rural environments and traditional construction practices. These references are not reproduced directly but translated into sculptural structures. The work develops through an open-ended process in the studio. Instead of following a predetermined design, I construct the installation gradually by assembling, binding, weaving and building different elements. This approach allows techniques associated with craft – such as tying, sewing or weaving – to coexist with more architectural methods of construction.

How do you choose the materials?

Materials are chosen for their ability to operate between textile and architectural logics. Threads and fabrics frequently appear alongside wood, reeds, metal or other structural components. This combination reflects my interest in the historical relationship between domestic craft practices – traditionally associated with interior spaces – and architectural construction, which has historically been linked to exterior structures. More recently, rural landscapes and agricultural environments have also informed both the material vocabulary and spatial forms of the work.

How important is the ‘craft’ practice in your opinion in ‘making art’?

Craft in my practice functions less as a demonstration of technical mastery and more as a mode of thinking through material processes. The act of constructing something step by step allows ideas to emerge through direct engagement with materials. At the same time I am interested in how craft traditions can be displaced from their original context and reactivated within contemporary sculptural practice. In this sense craft operates as both a method and a conceptual framework.

Your works are very material and usually large in size. Does this ‘occupying space’ have a conceptual meaning for you? What relationship is established between your works and the space that hosts them?

Scale is crucial because it allows the work to engage directly with architecture. Rather than producing autonomous objects, I am interested in constructing spatial situations that reorganise how viewers move through the environment. Many of my installations resemble provisional constructions – walls, barriers or spatial frameworks – that temporarily reconfigure the exhibition space. The work therefore becomes inseparable from the space that hosts it.

What are your sources of inspiration? What were – if any – the artists or artistic movements that influenced you?

My work draws from vernacular architecture, traditional craft practices and rural landscapes. I am particularly interested in anonymous forms of knowledge that emerge through collective experience rather than individual authorship. These references allow me to explore how material traditions can be translated into contemporary sculptural and spatial practices.

What does it mean for you to be an artist?

For me, being an artist means developing a way of thinking through making. The studio becomes a site where different forms of knowledge – historical, material and spatial – can be brought into dialogue. Art offers a framework through which these relationships can be tested, translated and reimagined.

How has your research and artistic practice changed and evolved over time? In what direction has it developed?

My earlier work focused more directly on textile traditions and the bodily practices embedded in weaving. Over time this research expanded toward broader questions of architecture, landscape and spatial organisation. Since 2020 my practice has increasingly developed through large-scale installations that translate textile logics into architectural and environmental structures.

What meaning or role do you think art has in today’s complex contemporary world?

Art can create a space for critical reflection on how knowledge is produced and transmitted. By revisiting vernacular practices and material traditions, it becomes possible to reconsider forms of knowledge that often remain marginal within contemporary culture. Through these processes, art can open alternative perspectives on how we inhabit spaces and engage with the material world.