Beyond Fabric: Art as Healing, Art as Voice

With this blog post, I’m excited to begin a series of interviews with fellow quilters whose work I truly admire - some I know personally, and others I’ve yet to meet. I’m inspired by their unique journeys, and I hope you’ll find their stories as engaging and inspiring as I do.

I first met Léna Meszaros in 2022 at the European Patchwork Meeting, when she visited my solo exhibition. Since then, our paths have crossed each year at the same event, and I’ve come to know her not only as a fellow artist, but as a deeply thoughtful storyteller in textile form, and a truly fascinating person.

In 2024, Léna presented her own solo exhibition there, Fantastic Stories, a compelling collection of textile artworks that conveyed deeply human experiences through fabric and texture. When you look at her pieces, it feels as though she has captured suspended time: those rare moments when everything pauses, yet still pulses with unseen movement. There’s an intensity in her work—a delicate, ephemeral, sometimes dramatic focus on the present, always hinting at what came before and what may follow.

In this conversation, Léna reflects on her roots, her evolving artistic practice, and the power of art to connect, to express, and to heal.

1. Roots & Inspirations

How did you discover patchwork and what drew you to it initially?

When I moved to France from Hungary in the early 1990s, after loosing my job, I entered a kind of cultural vacuum. I didn’t speak French yet, I couldn’t find a job, and my life - once so active and full of travel and work - suddenly fell silent. I had studied literature and theatre at the University of Budapest, but I had no artistic training. France was a blank canvas, in many ways.

While learning the language, I also took part in a silk-painting workshop. I became fascinated by color, texture, and the meditative act of working with my hands. I began experimenting at home, playing with materials. Eventually, I joined a local patchwork group. I remember clearly the moment when I realized with amazement that you could sew fabric pieces together to tell stories. I wanted to express myself, so I exchanged words for images.

My very first piece was called The Hourglass. It was deeply personal. I tried to express the rupture in my life - the sense of time breaking, shifting after the move. The group was stunned by it and encouraged me to submit it to an exhibition. I did. The response was overwhelming. The piece traveled a lot and even brought letters of support from strangers. That early affirmation gave me the courage to keep going.

The Hourglass (1998)

You’re of Hungarian and Russian origin but have lived in France since the 1990s. How have these different cultures shaped you as a textile artist?

My earliest memories are from Kharkiv, Ukraine, where I lived with my grandmother until I was six. That time - those stories, the fairy tales, the emotional richness - has stayed with me and still colors my work today. I think the roots of my visual imagination are Russian, or more broadly Slavic, in their symbolism and emotional intensity.

True Haven (2022) "Though I dream of distant places, my true refuge is the embrace of my family - each arm a unique tribute to a loved one, and yes, the cat too."

Hungary came next - school, university, and a strong intellectual foundation. Hungarian remains the language I speak most fluently and think in most deeply. I wouldn’t say I feel particularly “Hungarian” in temperament, but I do recognize that my persistence, my determination to keep going and not give up, is something I’ve inherited from that culture.

And then there is France, which has been both a home and a mirror. Living here gave me a certain perspective on my roots. The French way of thinking introduced me to irony, humor, and a critical view of identity. I don’t feel I embody the French spirit, but I’ve learned from it that the only way forward is through the work itself. You keep doing, you keep creating. I’ve also absorbed a sense of perfection and refinement from French culture.

Heritage (2020) "I carry the weight of my heritage — a coat of many histories and hopes, mine and others"

2. Evolving Artistic Practice

What prompted you to introduce mixed media—such as acrylic pouring, plastic, metal, and recycled cardboard- into your quilts?

Until 2001, I worked entirely within the traditional framework of patchwork. I loved the language of fabric and thread. But life shifted dramatically that year as I went through a divorce and found myself raising my children alone. For the next 15 years, I didn’t touch a needle. Creativity, at least in textile form, went quiet.

During that time, I discovered Qi Gong and Traditional Chinese medicine. I studied it deeply, eventually began teaching, and even opened my own company with my partner. Qi Gong helped me reconnect with the flow of energy - both physical and creative. It reminded me that art and life aren’t two separate things; they are one continuous movement. We live, we transform, we gather experiences - and all of that feeds the creative process.

In 2016 I felt the urge to return to sewing. I looked around to see how the world of patchwork had evolved during my absence. That’s when I discovered artists exploring three-dimensional forms. It fascinated me. I wanted to try.

Mixed media came very naturally. I’ve always believed that nothing in life is truly waste -everything we collect, even what seems broken or useless, carries meaning. So, I began incorporating materials like recycled cardboard, bits of metal, plastic, acrylic pouring - things with a story. They help me express the layered, sometimes chaotic, sometimes magical reality of being alive.

3. Community Projects

You participate actively in EQA competitions and are part of the Collectif des Quilts Météo, SAQA, as well as the international group 20 Perspectives. What excites you about these group projects, and how does community engagement influence your solo art practice?

For a long time, I felt quite alone in the quilting world, especially in France, where most quilters still work in very traditional styles. I was searching for people who shared my language - not necessarily in words, but in energy, curiosity, and artistic vision. I wanted to connect with others who, like me, saw patchwork not just as a craft but as a way to speak about the world. The art quilt became the medium through which I express myself most fully.

In Qi Gong, I learned that group work has its own kind of magic. Each person brings a different energy, and when those energies mix, something greater than the sum of its parts can happen. That’s exactly what I experience in these communities. The energy, the support, the shared purpose - they uplift everyone involved.

I’ve been part of Collectif des Quilts Météo since 2020, which is actually my only strong connection to the French patchwork scene. The other groups -SAQA, 20 Perspectives - are international. Through them, I’ve participated in deeply meaningful projects, often with a strong human or emotional focus.

One such work was The Great Gate of Kiev, which I created for the SAQA auction shortly after the war began. It was my way of voicing what I felt - of expressing pain, solidarity, memory, and hope. That piece was especially personal, as I spent part of my childhood in Kharkiv, and the war brought a flood of emotions. Sometimes, stitching becomes a kind of testimony - something you do because words are not enough.

The Great gate of Kiev (2023)

These collaborations and projects constantly feed back into my own work. They remind me that we are not creating in isolation. Art is a shared space, and when we contribute to something larger, it deepens both our practice and our sense of purpose.

The Cyclo-Recycler (2025)

4. Looking Ahead

What new materials, techniques or themes are you eager to explore in the coming years?

I feel drawn to working more with metal. I am fascinated by its strength, its texture, its ability to reflect and catch light. I’m especially intrigued by the contrast between something as solid as metal and something as delicate as organza. The interplay of these materials - heavy and light, industrial and ethereal - offers a lot of expressive potential. I don’t know exactly where it will lead, but that’s the joy of it. For me, exploration is everything. I am a “what if…” person.

Under the bombs (2025). Metal and organza. A small work made for the Guldusi Association.

For those just discovering contemporary patchwork and mixed media, what’s the single most important piece of advice you’d offer?

Get to know yourself. That’s where everything begins. If you don’t know who you are, it’s easy to fall into imitation - to repeat what others have already done. But when you take the time to understand yourself, your story, your emotional landscape, then you’re not afraid to speak through your work in your own voice. Meditation is a great way of doing this.

Art can be deeply healing. It helps us find our place in the world, make sense of our experiences, and sometimes even bring meaning to others.

So my advice is simple: know yourself, and don’t be afraid to show it. That’s where true creativity - and connection - begins.

P.S. If you enjoyed this interview, please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below. I’d also love to hear your feedback and any suggestions you have for future posts in this series. Thank you!♥