William Storms

William Storms takes us through his journey as an artist, from friendship bracelets to installations that span nine floors. Read more in our conversation below.

Uprise Art: Where are you from, and where do you reside?

William Storms: Originally from a very small town in the farmland of northern New Jersey. Moved to NYC in 2009 for college, weaving in Brooklyn since.

UA: What necessities do you require when making your art?

WS: I require a sort of self-made white noise, which sounds weird. In reality, that looks like multiple forms of stimulation. You’ll usually catch me at the loom with music filling the studio while listening to a podcast in one ear. I find it easiest to think when I’m in a flow and part of my brain is distracted or otherwise occupied.

UA: Describe a typical day in the studio for you.

WS: Morning email game out of necessity, followed by yarn spinning and loom threading, ending it at the loom for that day’s weaving.

UA: What is the most difficult part of the artistic process for you?

WS: So much of my practice is collaborating and telling other’s stories. I’ve been sitting with myself lately asking why I’m making the work, and what it means to me. Narrative is important; lately I’m concentrating on my own.

UA: Are there any aspects of your process that are left to chance?

WS: Yes. I really listen to how materials respond to each other once combined at the loom. In the past year, I’ve woven 200+ selenite crystals, piano cords, and vintage rope lassos from Texas. When working with found objects, you need to know when it's time to “take off the last thing you put on”.

UA: How do you choose your materials?

WS: From a fiber standpoint, it’s about the scope for me. What are we doing, where is this artwork going, what are the more technical attributes that this application requires? From there, pulling in relevant objects to the story we’re telling. A grandmother’s necklace, dried flowers from a wedding ceremony; my joy is finding materials that promote further joy.

UA: How has your work developed in the past few years, and how do you see it evolving in the future?

WS: It’s moved off the wall and into space. It will continue to grow in scale. My largest installation to date spans nine stories in a NY landmark building. Crossing my fingers for an airport someday.

UA: When did you begin your current practice?

WS: I stopped designing for machines and started working directly with them around 2022. I swapped Jacquard loom files at US Textile mills for my fleet of eight hand looms. All wood, no electricity. For now, at least.

UA: Have you always worked with textiles? Why do you choose to work with them?

WS: In college, I studied figurative oil painting and sculpture.

That said, I was the flamboyant kid at summer camp making friendship bracelets instead of playing two-hand touch, and I’d do it again. Not a narrative that is uniquely mine, but playing with tiny knots in a circle of tiny peers continues to inform my practice today. 

William Storms

UA: What led you to your process, and how did you know it was the right one to pursue?

WS: While pursuing a Fine Arts degree, I explored the other more technical creative programs that were offered. The moment I saw a loom, at 20 years old, I was irrevocably changed. I joke that since that moment, weaving has become my entire personality.

UA: What draws you back to the loom time and time again?

WS: Athletes, primarily runners and swimmers, talk about this zen-like state they enter when practicing their sport. When you’re five miles into a race, or 500 meters into a long course swim, and you reach a flow state. There’s a calming peace within the repetition. That state that they’re speaking of is what my weaving practice does for me. It allows me to get a clarity of thought otherwise difficult to achieve.

UA: Do you find that environment relates to your work?

WS: Yes, in both senses of the word.

Environment as planet: 80% of the fiber I use in my studio is made of post-industrial, post-consumer cotton. This makes it upcycled, as it would otherwise be in a landfill. I don’t see the relevance of unsustainable or virgin-fiber, if avoidable (it usually is).

Environment as In Situ: the goal of my work is to read the room in many senses. Art selections are incredibly personal, but may also be the final touches of a space that was created with a tremendous amount of care and time. Reflecting that grander vision is a core value of my practice.

UA: What tangible objects or intangible moments are you most interested in representing through your works?

WS: Using tangible objects to represent the intangible is a ‘high’ that I continue to chase. For a private client recently, I sourced silk flowers that represent the birth month of each family member; this work became The Family Garden. These sorts of details are what I imagine are shared over dinner parties while admiring the work. It’s a sort of special that can’t be artificial.

UA: What are some themes you find recurring in your pieces, intentional or not?

WS: The duality of Perfection and Freedom, a classic weaver’s tale.

UA: How do material, color, and form come together in your works?

WS: My practice does not include any wet processes. No dying, no painting (for now), etc. Color is intrinsic to the fiber and yarn, which ultimately leads to form. Since all materials are “dry”, it allows you to swap from metallic to matte, fuzzy to dry, and thick to thin very quickly.

UA: Where do you find your day-to-day inspiration?

WS: Flowers on the street - I can’t help myself. I’ll linger and admire them often for too long.

I look for patterns like a millennial reading an I-SPY book in real life. Patterns that really hit that jacquard weaving nerve of mine. Light and shadow as they fall on the street or a wall. Reflections on water, a classic. The old fire escapes that still have patterns on them.

William Storms

A favorite is seeing twenty people in the city accidentally all doing the same thing at the same time (OKAY, yes, it’s often everyone looking at their phone), but I imagine it as three or four strangers synchronously checking their watches at the same time. Little pockets of magic.

UA: How has your site-specific practice influenced your ready-to-hang works?

WS: Everything is now spatial, even the smaller works. I’m thinking in much more structural terms at a larger scale, and the fun is then using those same materials while working smaller. For instance, a 1.5” diameter wooden dowel appears drastically thinner when it is 20 feet long than when it is 20 inches long. That change in aspect ratio is fun for me.

UA: Are you influenced by any author or non-visual artist?

WS: Of course! Can I name them upon being asked? Never in my life.

UA: Are you formally trained?

WS: Yes, trained in NYC and Paris, followed by several weaving mills and current mentors. I’ve woven with artisans in Guatemala and Peru; I’m thankful to have been shown these ropes, so to speak.

Weaving is a special craft that you need to be welcomed into, and I very thankfully have been. There's a certain finesse you have to be taught in person. 

William Storms

UA: Do you admire or draw inspiration from any of your peers?

WS: Absolutely, I’m thankful to be friends with several fellow contemporary artists and textile artists. You can’t exactly Google “how to make it” or “how much to charge”, so relating to peers, people who just get it, can be a salve.

UA: Is there any artwork of yours on display in your home/studio?

WS: For sure, lots of current “do I like this” pieces. It's important to sit with the form of a work in order to really analyze it.

UA: What’s one of your favorite objects you own? What’s the story?

WS: A friend of mine made me a “penny book” one year for my birthday. It’s a hand-bound accordion booklet filled with pennies. It takes a moment, but after investigating, you realize that the pennies are in chronological order, starting with the year I was born and ending with the year I was given the book. I’ve had it for several years, and it’s still mind-blowing to me. Highly emotional, highly genius little gift.

UA: Is there something people would be surprised to learn about you?

WS: I love mathematics, I’m a twin, I speak three languages.

UA: What’s next for you?

WS: Larger, more brutal work that integrates directly with architecture. Diving into work that expresses my personal narrative.

Published March 2026