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Saima Kaur, mother to an autistic child, became fascinated by Phulkari Indian textiles which inspired her to create joyful simple embroideries that made her heart sing

Saima Kaur sews for the joy of it. A maker of Phulkari-inspired figurative textiles, she relishes the directness of its forms. ‘When I look at a Phulkari I see skill, imagination and cultural richness in the characters. The human beings and the creatures in Indian indigenous folk art are all made of simple blocks which are then imbued with colour, pattern and texture.’ Too ready and too quick to say that she can’t draw, Kaur has learnt to adapt Phulkari motifs into a highly personal formula. ‘I can draw a triangle; I can draw a square, so there are my basics. Then, as I sew, I develop things.’ Free drawing as she works, the imagery – Paul Klee-like in its naivety and airiness – begins to play out in front of her, almost of its own volition. In a series of current work featuring manifestations of Kaur’s childhood memories of Indian circuses, a tightrope walker is crowned by a gathering iridescence of peacocks and a boy with a wheel is given a squiggly line of blown figure ‘s’ shapes with which to turn it. There’s a delicious lightness to the work, a blitheness that belies the day-to-day differences in raising a non-verbal, autistic child. With no official diagnosis made until her daughter was five, Kaur’s early years caring for her were isolating ones. ‘We’d go to a play group and all the other kids would be doing what kids do and she wouldn’t. On play dates she’d get overwhelmed and pull the children’s hair. So I stopped doing that. Then parents would try to advise me but I didn’t want their advice. So I stepped back and went into a very manageable bubble. We’d go to the library because she liked that, or the fountain, or ride up and down escalators or lifts. But it was always mostly just the two of us.’ The birth of her second daughter and a move to Hebden Bridge helped her to ‘open up to life again,’ as did her embroidery practice. ‘When we moved to Hebden my older daughter started special school and I was at home with the younger one. And there was that moment when I thought it’s really important to have something for myself. And I thought what can I do? What do I have control over? And stitching was one of those things. It was something that was just mine.’ The daughter of a Lieutenant Colonel in the Indian Army, Kaur’s early years were nomadic ones. She was educated in India, in the main, at a boarding school over there. Kaur found herself at the age of 13, transplanted to Huddersfield. ‘I was suddenly in a completely different culture where everything was new.’ Learning to acclimatise, to fit in through imitation, Kaur remembers her cousin advising her to buy some Doc Martens and wear them to school and thinking, ‘OK I’ll do that.’ With a seemingly detached sanguinity that’s clearly stood her in good stead against life’s vicissitudes, Kaur’s gloriously tinkling giggle masks a sharp wit and a searing self-knowledge.