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In the kitchen gardens of Harewood House, near Leeds, stands an unusual, arresting assemblage of fallen tree fragments, ceramic sculpture and living plants. The installation, “Cultivo y Memoria” (2024), (Crop and Memory) by Venezuelan artist Lucia Pizzani, uses ancestral Mesoamerican knowledge of co-planting so that the corn, beans and squash help one another thrive. As a whole it makes a case for craft as both living and life-giving.
It is a scene-stealing piece in the 2024 Harewood Biennial, which is built around the theme of Create/Elevate, and argues that craft is an active part of life.
Now in its third edition, the biennial displays the work of 16 artists, makers and collectives, displayed through the ornate interiors and Capability Brown-designed gardens of the 18th-century house. The first, in 2019, argued its case under the title Useful/Beautiful, and the second (in 2022) claimed craft as a radical act.
However, Harewood chief curator and artistic director Darren Pih says it felt as though a sense of craft had just been “dropped in” to the house. So for this iteration, together with independent curator Ligaya Salazar, he invited artists to develop new work through engagement with the history and landscapes of Harewood. It has been supported financially by Arts Council England, the British Council and the Henry Moore Foundation.

Pizzani’s commission was produced with Harewood head gardener Trevor Nicholson. Approaching his 30th year at Harewood, Nicholson is keeper of its plants, continuing the centuries-old circular relationship between garden and kitchen (and supplying the visitor café). Salazar also describes him as a curator.
A number of other works have been chosen to highlight the “fragility of craft making”, says Salazar, by emphasising practices that are “on the verge of not being around any longer”. Some are by makers from the global south — including Nigerian artist Temitayo Ogunbiyi’s manila rope sculpture, and Antiguan and Barbudan Botanique Studio’s tamarind seed jewellery. Rosa Harradine’s pieces celebrate Welsh brush and broom-making, an endangered practice.
In looking to the past, one topic that is addressed is Harewood’s difficult history — Edwin Lascelles (1713-95) funded the construction of Harewood through plantations and slavery. Modular by Mensah’s installation “Onipa ye de” (2024), named after a proverb in the Ghanaian Akan language meaning “human being is sweet”, translates Adinkra visual symbols into playful modular furniture that shares language, heritage and creates a space to be with others. Founder Kusheda Mensah sees the work as a positive act by a Black woman in the present, in contrast with the house’s “dark history”.

The problematic legacy within craft itself is another theme, as the labour of multiple people is often unattributed. Springboarding from this idea, Newcastle-based Mani Kambo worked with Bruce Fine Papers on an installation of hand-blocked wallpaper, “Layered Legacies” (2024). It recreates patterns from Harewood’s interiors while incorporating the thumbprint of a maker spotted by Kambo on the Robert Adams-designed plaster ceiling.
The title of Jan Hendzel’s monolithic console table and mirror, “Artist Unknown” (2024), is a reference to the wooden sculptures in the centre of the room where his pieces are displayed: they are part of Harewood’s collection but originally belonged to the Yoruba, Baule and Mende people of West Africa, the Ivory Coast and Sierra Leone. His table and mirror draw on his studio’s hand-lathed and digital techniques, and duel with Thomas Chippendale’s ornate furniture. While both are fine woodworking, it’s a “jarring” juxtaposition, he says.

Several works by collectives, as well as collaborations between artists and artisans, showcase the community aspect of craft work. These include Beit Collective from Lebanon, Common Threads and British artist Alice Kettle, who worked with women’s groups in Karachi, Leeds, Pendle and Burnley. Describing craft as often a “social practice”, Salazar says: “I would like people to go away with a sense of the wonder of craft, and the ability for it to connect people.”
Pih talks of Harewood members “who really respect that we are custodians of the collection and take care of it, and still want to understand and enjoy these historic interiors”, and says the new works do not “displace” but complement, “speak[ing] urgently to Harewood” today.

Hew Locke’s embellished Parian ware bust, “Souvenir 6 (Princess Alexandra)” (2019), sits wily and bijoux-like in Princess Mary’s dressing room, decorated with jewels, textile lace and cowrie shells to reference the mercantile power of Harewood’s day, while the richly decorated gallery is left unchanged.
Below stairs, the scent of spices in Dhaka-based collective Britto Arts Trust’s market stall installation “Rasad” (2022-ongoing) is transportative. But other objects on display provoke discussion over the food systems dominated and controlled by big brands such as Monsanto, Nestlé and Chiquita. Some are half natural, half weapon: a fish morphs into a gun half way down its body. It’s a provocative reminder of the darker side of intertwined cultures.
Outside, Pizzani and Nicholson’s garden continues to grow, its knowledge and nourishment waiting to be harvested.
Create/Elevate, Harewood Biennial, until October 20; harewood.org
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