How Artist Anna Chapman Weaves Community, Ecology, and Art
By Shannon Mortland
In a world that often prizes individualism, Anna Chapman is quietly weaving a counter-narrative—one rooted in connection, ecology, and collective healing. The 36-year-old artist and educator, who recently returned to Chagrin Falls, creates from materials gathered from the land itself: foraged sticks, black walnut husks, and locally processed fibers transformed into ink, charcoal, and yarn. Her art—and her teaching—invite others to slow down, reconnect, and remember the creative power of community.
When did you first know you wanted to be an artist?
It became clear when I was doing anything I could to spend most of my time in the art room. Going to the Rhode Island School of Design showed me what I was capable of as a creator and exposed me to a wide range of creatives who have become lifelong friends and collaborators.
[For instance], my best friend from undergrad, Max Frieder, started an organization called Artolution, which facilitates youth-led murals around the world. I have been by his side since he developed that project, and it deeply informed my understanding of the potential for community art and art education to bring people together.
What mediums do you primarily work in, and how did you come to focus on them?
I’m trained in painting and drawing. One of my favorite drawing tools is charcoal, which I make. I [also] use a lot of black walnut ink in my work.
More recently, I have begun integrating fibers into my practice.
How has your family influenced your current practice?
My mother weaves at Praxis Fiber Workshop in Cleveland, a community weaving studio. About three years ago, I started a Creative Storytelling Collective as I was frequenting Praxis. I had this idea to create a massive, collectively woven rug for the storytelling gatherings. I began collaborating with others to initiate a Community Loom Project. My main collaborator, Kiran Jandu, designed and built the loom, which over 600 people have woven on in five different locations. I believe that there is a need for art to become part of living culture, not just something living on a wall.
Chapman’s tools begin outdoors—here she collects black walnuts to turn into ink for her drawings. Photos courtesy of Anna Chapman
What are the emotional and personal dimensions of the Community Loom Project?
I was working alone in a studio for a while. It became apparent to me that it wasn’t a healthy, sustainable path. I had to wayfind my path. It had everything to do with connecting to community, the land and my ancestors.
What has emerged through that shared creative space?
It’s not necessarily specific stories but the generative communion of being together. The synergy of being together, listening and sharing, was something I felt really grew all of us. Stories came together in many different ways, often transcending the literary into the form of song, food, dance or art.
I’m trying to find and listen for how creatively being together can take shape in Cleveland.
A mentor once told me: “In the center of the word company is ‘p-a-n.’ Pan also means bread. Bread is the thing that brings people together. So, I ask myself, what can I use to bring people together? This concept has been central to my community art practice.
What projects have been pivotal to your growth as an artist?
There are two projects. One is my solo show, Underworld/Otherworld, which first showed at the McDonough Museum of Art in Youngstown, Ohio, in January [2025]. It bridges my representational painting and drawing practice with more recent explorations into sculpture and ritual.
The second project I’m working on is called Retangle, with my collaborator, Kiran Jandu. We have been curating a series of experimental art happenings that center a community loom. In the fall of 2026, I will begin building a new loom sculpture during my artist residency at Vessel City in Cleveland.
What are you trying to express or repair through your work?
We live in a culture that prizes individualism. So, I’m asking: how do we practice being together? How can art be a vehicle for that?
I teach artists how to lead a sustainable practice, both materially and conceptually. Materially, we look closely at the materials being used. Conceptually, we consider how our practice is connected to community and place.
Many of the materials I source are from my surrounding environment, requiring participation with the land, animals and people around me.
Chapman’s Underworld/Otherworld opens a portal between grief and transformation—an invitation to dwell in the threshold.
What challenges have you had to overcome?
It can be hard to tap into the art world. If you can’t find a space to show your work, you have to create one.
Finding a way to support myself while getting my bearings on my education was also a challenge. I was working in the decorative art industry in NYC for a few years, but was eventually able to shift into art education.
What do you consider breakthroughs?
Realizing that I can be an artist, an art educator and a community arts facilitator at the same time is a breakthrough. I find that there is immense synergy between these three modalities. They all inspire and enhance each other. For example, right now I have three large-scale works on display at a gallery at Connecticut State College, where I am about to facilitate four workshops and artists talks to undergraduate drawing classes.
What does success look like for you?
In art education and community arts, success is being able to inspire others to access their own creative agency.
In my own art practice, success feels like creating something larger than myself that talks back to me and impacts others.
Where do you see your work evolving next?
I would like to continue exploring the integration of art, art education and community art. I’d like to start curating experimental art happenings in post-industrial spaces throughout the Rust Belt region.
I am also working on a new body of work called Holding Capacity. This body of work is about the capacity of the feminine (queer and trans inclusive), to hold, contain and support amidst destabilization.
I am also launching a humanities educational program with my dad and a small team of folks. We have been working on this for over 20 years. The project is called Culture Atlas [It’s an immersive overview of major world cultures past and present.]
How do you want your art to shift the way people move through the world?
I want my work to invite people to create. People who do not identify as artists are so hesitant to create. In my community art practice, my hope is that it will inspire people to explore being agents of change, to recognize their agency to be a creator and be a shaper, rather than be shaped by the world.
For my independent fine art practice, I want to create space for people to feel more. For example, in my Underworld / Otherworld series, I hope to cultivate a willingness to be with endings. We live in a youth-obsessed, death-illiterate culture. We do not center elders in our culture and we do not know how to be with grief. I hope to inspire an appreciation for endings as transitions into something new.
