A mother–daughter story behind Threadapeutic, Jakarta’s textile art atelier

Hana Surya’s earliest textile projects were simple patchworks and dolls’ dresses sewn by hand. “I learned a bit of embroidery and cross-stitching in college, and I only took formal sewing lessons when I was pregnant with my second daughter, learning patternmaking, and sewing nightgowns, pants, and so on. From then on, I was able to sew dresses for my daughters, as well as pouches and simple bags,” she shared via email. 

Hana has always been comfortable with a needle and thread. “I enjoy the slowness of stitching by hand. If sewing is a craft, then that’s the part I enjoyed learning most,” she said. Those skills came in handy when she founded Threadapeutic in 2015, using fabric offcuts from local garment factories in Jakarta to create tapestries and other textile projects.

It all started when Hana volunteered for Indonesian Fashion Week that year. She was tasked with repurposing used event banners into tote bags, and soon after, local fashion designers began offering her team leftover fabric offcuts, building up a generous stash. “The abundance and beauty of these materials inspired us to explore new possibilities,” Hana said.

TEXTILE TALES

Ten years on, Threadapeutic is a fully fledged business with a core team of seven artisans and designers – “most of whom, like me, have no formal training in art and design,” Hana noted. The team turns unwanted offcuts into sophisticated, complex and emotive works of art. Made from leftover materials, each piece is one of a kind.

Each work embodies a narrative. Made in collaboration with Studio Hendro Hadinata, Lace Room Divider 01 has an ethereal quality, crafted from translucent lace and tulle offcuts from bridal and evening gown ateliers. It has two sides: one is “like the dry season in Sumba – quiet, gentle and sandy white”, while the other is “like the rainy season – golden-green and full of light”.

At the first ‘Immersion by Lexus’ brand space in Southeast Asia, Bird’s Eye View is a statement wall covering that combines poly-cotton offcuts into a faux chenille collage. Then there is Memanggil (‘calling’ in Bahasa Indonesia) — a moody red-and-brown tapestry inspired by the crackling tunes from her father’s turntable, which Hana listened to after school. “They like being alone, side by side. Quiet. Enduring,” she reflected, referring to both her father and her younger self.

Some works are more challenging than others. Hana highlighted a textile feature wall for Bank Jago in Jakarta, made from 90kg of poly-cotton offcuts; it was difficult because the pattern had to flow seamlessly across 12 panels. For Maison&Objet Paris 2019, the studio created a 300cm by 200cm piece so large it had to be trimmed afterwards. “It’s not so much the design, but the heaviness for the seamstress. He had to carry it on his shoulders while sewing, with an assistant pulling it along,” Hana explained.

Then there are the more sentimental, personal projects. “The most unusual request was from a client who asked me to make new textiles out of her father’s favourite shirts. It’s my favourite project to date. The textiles became a bag and a laptop bag she could use,” the artist recalled.

LABOUR OF LOVE 

The offcuts are contributed by a local partner garment factory, PT Suryamandiri, as well as fashion studios like Purana Indonesia, small workshops, evening gown makers, bridal studios and individual donors. Linen, silk, flannel, cotton, lace and cotton-polyester blends – as well as “any fabrics that can give us good texture” – are preferred. “There’s simply too much waste fabric for us to tackle alone. We can’t accept all kinds of fibres, so we came up with criteria for donations – to accept only the kinds of fibres we can use,” Hana shared. 

When a commissioned project comes into the studio, Hana takes the lead in getting to know the client and the brief before developing the best concept, approach and material choices for the piece. She then assigns a senior artisan to the job. Initial prototypes are made after the number of layers is determined, the colour palettes are set and the required offcuts are sorted. The final piece is then composed and sewn by the senior artisan. 

It is a labourious process, with the artisan hand-cutting between seams to expose the layers. Junior artisans then use a sharp metal brush to unravel the exposed fabric into fringes, creating the final furry texture and blending the colours and layers. This is the longest stage, as it is repeated until the best possible texture is achieved. Lastly, Hana conducts final quality checks and makes any further refinements.

At 61, many begin to think of retirement, but life with Threadapeutic is just beginning for Hana, who started the studio in her 50s. Her story is a reminder that it’s possible to begin a new career later in life. But this is only part of the picture: Threadapeutic has become a family project, with Hana’s youngest daughter, Andriana Justine, now part of the team. Andriana graduated from the National University of Singapore’s Industrial Design course four years after her mother founded the studio.

Andriana has been living in Singapore since 2001, when she moved here for her education. She is an alumna of Fairfield Methodist Primary School, Crescent Girls’ School and Anglo-Chinese Junior College. Her older sisters studied here too, and Hana lived in Singapore with them until 2014, when she returned to Jakarta to join her husband.

BONDING IN THE BUSINESS

“After my previous job as a teaching assistant, I looked for a new job in Singapore for almost two years – it was a difficult time. Meanwhile, from 2022 to 2023, my mother was offered an opportunity to stage Threadapeutic’s first solo exhibition in Bali. Since I was available, I started supporting the team with exhibition design and communications,” Andriana said.

Working with her mother brought them closer. “To curate [an exhibition] well, I had to listen to her stories,” Andriana laughed. “Before that, we didn’t talk much, since my mom and dad are mostly in Jakarta while my sisters and I are based in Singapore.”

This was also when she learned more about her mother’s journey with Threadapeutic. “Every step of the way, she never had a plan. She simply – and very intentionally – tried to make the best of what she had been given: the materials, the community and her personal history. I saw more clearly the evolution of the textures and approaches her team developed over the years.”

This inspired the young designer, who was anxious about her future at the time. Andriana realised what she had been looking for in Singapore was here all along, in her mother’s studio – “to be able to learn and create with my hands – rather than spending time on the computer [designing] – and to be in a team that encourages ‘stupid’ ideas and experiments.”

I asked if she remembered the clothes her mother made when she was young, and Andriana admitted she didn’t even know her mother had made some of them until Hana mentioned it in an interview. “She likes to do things quietly, without anyone noticing. But I remember her mending our school uniforms when there were holes, or when we needed size adjustments. She also went through a phase of sewing small pouches when I was in secondary school, before starting Threadapeutic, and giving them to friends and family,” Andriana said.

NURTURING THE TEAM 

When Andriana joined Threadapeutic full time in 2023, she had no experience with a sewing machine, so she took weekend classes at a nearby sewing school. While she rarely sews in the studio, since the senior artisans do most of the sewing, the knowledge informs her work in composing and layering prototypes.

In the studio, mother and daughter constantly bounce ideas off each other. “We have different approaches, but we share the same belief in bringing out the best of what we already have – whether it’s the people or the materials. It’s her mindset that I’ve been really inspired by, and the reason I wanted to join her and learn from her,” Andriana said.

She sees herself as a cheerleader in the studio and takes time to understand everyone’s unique traits, so she can amplify their interests and strengths. “For example, my mother is naturally drawn to textiles; texture and colour trigger memories of her parents and childhood, so I ask her questions to uncover and communicate her thought processes. Senior artisan Pak Misbahudin, who had 16 years of experience as a seamstress before joining Threadapeutic, is more technical. He enjoys trying different techniques, so my role is to systemise the material exploration process with him and our interns,” Andriana explained.

Andriana’s multifarious roles in Threadapeutic – spanning research and development on materials and techniques, textile design, marketing, sales, project management and human resources, depending on the season – allow Hana to focus on making, rather than managing the business.

Andriana hopes to move the projects and team “closer to what my mother believes in and enjoys, which is nurturing a textile-making collective that makes the best of the materials around us.” She elaborated: “My priority now is to grow the team to meet demand. Thankfully, this year – after 10 years – we’re entering a season of financial stability and receiving a steady flow of commissioned projects.”

Hana is more than grateful for the help. “For nearly three years, she has been a blessing to Threadapeutic and to me – by uncovering what I thought was simply what we did, given the know-how and materials we have from our community,” Hana said, admitting she is less vocal than her daughter.

Hana, too, came to study in Singapore when she was young, attending Nan Chiau Primary School and Nan Chiau High School (now New Bahru). “My parents sent me to Chinese schools. Perhaps that’s why I tend to be more reserved with my thoughts and feelings. Justine has helped me bring those out, and in turn, brought us closer,” Hana reflected.

PART OF A REVOLUTION

Beyond making products, Andriana believes Threadapeutic’s work is also about “uncovering the artistry, tacit knowledge and potential within the craft of machine sewing, and among seamstresses, many of whom are underpaid. None of our colleagues had any formal training in design or art. This affirms the value of learning by making, through hands-on trial and error, regardless of background.”

Unexpected textures and stories have emerged from these unassuming, free offcuts – “and it’s not just Threadapeutic,” Andriana noted. Threadapeutic is part of a generation of makers and designers in the country who are taking a fresh look at leftovers, readymade accessible resources and cultural history.

Andriana continued: “There’s AlvinT (founded by Alvin Tjitrowirjo), exploring Kalimantan’s rattan culture; Cowka (a new craft initiative in Bandung that began as a participatory research project by ITB’s Design Ethnography Lab, turning dung fibre into tiles and household products); MET Glodok – an artist-led home-cafe-visitor centre in Jakarta’s Chinatown founded by Metta Setiandi; and Cush Cush Gallery in Denpasar, which enriches Bali’s traditional craft scene with cross-disciplinary collaborations, to name a few.”

For Hana, the studio’s work is also about the intangibles – the opportunity to train her team, help them improve, and ensure the knowledge they gain can enrich their lives. She added: “It is also about facilitating and pushing the boundaries of our craft as much as possible.”