There’s a cloud-like aspect to Haide Calle’s textile-based works: They appear fluffy and inviting but may contain a storm. Also, the longer you look at them, the more you see.
“Haide is making work that’s way above her pay grade; it exceeds the expectations we’d have for a (bachelor of fine arts) student,” says UNLV art professor Sean Slattery, who taught Calle in a painting class and coordinated the BFA cohort, of which she was a part. “She combines, alters, arranges objects to make installations — disparate parts that contribute to a cohesive whole. And it always surprises. How did those things become this thing?”
Calle began doing art as a child and says her mother’s encouragement kept her going, as she evolved through drawing, painting, and sculpture. But she always had a penchant for mixed media, which is where her focus is lately.
“I remember doing school projects, I’d be like, ‘Okay, we’re gonna make this crazy,’” she says, “bringing all the glitter out, and markers. And I feel my mom was a big push for that, because she would always be like, ‘Oh yeah, I got you. We’ll do this together.’”
Calle has completed the BFA requirements, but is still finishing some other course requirements. She expects to have the degree by winter.
But it’s irrelevant to her productivity. Her head brims with ideas waiting to come to life through her hands. Many have a political bent. As a volunteer with Indigenous-focused nonprofit Fifth Sun Project, Calle has done pieces raising awareness of (and funding for) undocumented families experiencing income insecurity and street food vendors, whose livelihood has been hampered by government fees and regulations.
For the Hanging by a Thread exhibition at Left of Center Art Gallery this spring, Calle made a piece called “Morphing” out of maguey (agave) roots, repurposed fabric, repurposed rope, found wood, found steel, nail, and thread.
She explains what it conveys about her Otomi Indigenous identity and her experience as a migrant in the U.S.: “These past four years, I’ve been doing more research about my ancestry, and I learned that we would cultivate lots of these magueys because of our way of survival. And we would drink from it, eat from it, use it as our architecture for our homes. So, I got really attracted to the forms of it. Essentially, it was made to look very squishy, but it was upside down and it was purple fabric, because when cactuses become purple, or pinkish purple, that means they’re under a lot of stress. That means they’re lacking some nutrients or are just not comfortable in their environment.”
The piece’s title, she says, conveys her feeling of trying to adapt in an environment that’s technically her home and find a way to be comfortable, despite stifling social issues, such as racism.
Slattery says that whatever Calle ends up doing in the future, it will be unpredictable and enticing. “She’ll find her own way,” he says. “It won’t be derivative. Each generation finds its own way. … Haide’s work is worth spending time with. You might love it after five minutes, but you’ll love it even more after 15.”
Calle’s first curated exhibition is on display at Left of Center this fall. Titled I Need Space to Roam, it features the work of two dozen local femme, women, and gender nonconforming artists. It’s open through December 7. For more information, visit leftofcenterart.org.
