AT 31 YEARS OLD, Emily Trujillo is the heir apparent to a textile legacy that began eight generations ago, when Mexico-born Diego Trujillo settled in the village of Chimayó in the mid-1600s. Over the centuries, the family became masters of weaving blankets, jackets, vests, and other textiles in the Río Grande style, characterized by Mexican Saltillo and Vallero designs, including chevroned stripes and serrated diamonds. “For my family, weaving isn’t just a way to make a living,” Trujillo says. “It is part of who we are, and it’s an important aspect of our culture.”
Although tradition figures prominently at the family’s Chimayó studio and storefront, Centinela Traditional Arts, Trujillo understands that for their artistic legacy to survive, they must appeal to new generations of buyers. At her Albuquerque-based home studio, she often eschews symmetry in favor of creativity. “Improv is a constant part of my family’s weaving process and always has been,” she says. “If you rely too much on geometry and perfection, one little mistake can throw off your entire design.” Classic Río Grande design elements like central diamonds, for instance, hover UFO-like across a composition, surrounded by thunderbirds, hourglasses, and even grazing sheep. In her modern practice, Trujillo also deviates from the red, black, and white palette of her ancestors with shades like a vivid neon cerise that she calls “screaming pink.”
Because attracting a new era of textile artists is also critical, her family incorporates teaching into their practice, offering classes through regional schools and community centers. Their biggest hurdle is finding dedicated labor, a challenge Trujillo attributes to the “lack of instant gratification” that goes along with a practice as labor- and time-intensive as weaving.
She hopes targeted programs, like a recent partnership with Western apparel company Ariat, may help generate fresh excitement. “In exchange for licensing designs created by artists here in New Mexico, Ariat supplied us with a $50,000 grant to train weavers and even guarantee them jobs,” Trujillo explains. “The future of Chimayó weaving really depends on getting people interested in it.”