14 May 2026
Artist Highlight - Ayaito Marron
Interview and Review
Ayaito Marron is a London-based Japanese embroidery artist whose work explores the forms and relationships of marine life. Through hand embroidery, Marron focuses on small organisms, symbiosis, and the subtle connections within ecosystems that often remain unseen. Drawing on natural history imagery, the practice traces delicate relationships across time, species, and environments. Without formal academic training in art, Marron has developed an independent approach grounded in observation and tactile making. The work has been presented primarily through open calls and exhibitions, including solo presentations.



ARTIST INTERVIEW
1. Your embroidered marine organisms appear suspended within layered translucent fabrics. How does this spatial construction help evoke the depth and atmosphere of underwater environments?
I wanted to evoke a softly lit underwater space with a sense of depth, where creatures drift and swim. Although thread is a powerful material, depending on the theme it can be difficult to create contrast and perspective between motifs, and the surface can appear flat. While searching for a way to express the gentle, wavering movement of marine life suspended in water, I developed this layered structure.
2. Many of the works depict small or often overlooked marine species. What draws you to these quieter forms of life rather than more familiar or iconic ocean creatures?
I have loved marine life since childhood, but I became especially aware of small sea creatures after encountering Ernst Haeckel’s scientific illustrations. At the time, I was going through a difficult period in my life. When I opened Art Forms in Nature and saw the strange and beautiful small organisms, it may sound dramatic, but I felt I regained my will to live. As I cannot swim, I rarely see them directly, so I create by combining limited observation with imagination, in resonance with natural history illustrators.
3. Hand embroidery introduces subtle distortions in line and form. How do these shifts allow the organisms to feel more alive or in motion?
For example, one of the appeals of machine embroidery lies in its uniform and durable stitches. In contrast, in my hand embroidery it is impossible to produce perfectly even stitches, and I carefully control the tension so the thread is not pulled too tightly. These subtle irregularities and the softness of the stitches create slight fluctuations in line and form, which I believe contribute to a sense of vitality and movement in the creatures.
4. In works such as Ribbonfish — Pelagic Form and Jellyfish — Pelagic Form, the forms seem to drift across the surface. How do you approach composition to convey movement and fluidity?
I compare online videos and images with photographs I have taken in aquariums to study how each part of the body moves and its range of motion. At times, I adopt compositions similar to natural history illustrations, where individual parts are made clearly visible. Based on this understanding, I incorporate imagination and adjust the forms and balance to create movements that feel visually compelling to me.
5. Silver leaf appears in several pieces. What role does this reflective material play in suggesting underwater light or shifting perception?
Not all fish are like this, but many appear to have layers of scales over a silvery body. I find that this quality of light corresponds well with the soft luminosity of silver leaf. Depending on the species, I sometimes use other types of metal leaf in addition to silver to evoke different optical effects.
6. The framed compositions resemble contained environments, almost like small ecosystems. How important is the idea of enclosure or observation within these works?
In works depicting small, palm-sized creatures, I feel there is a perspective close to that of natural history illustrators observing minute forms. The act of observing such small beings also connects to specimen boxes that contain shells or insects, which is why I often choose wooden frames. Looking ahead, I would like to create larger works and explore installation methods that allow viewers to immerse themselves more fully within the space.
7. Your practice reflects on relationships such as mimicry and symbiosis within marine ecosystems. How do these biological connections influence the way individual organisms are represented in your work?
In my earlier works, the focus was primarily on observing individual organisms. Over time, I began to seek a greater sense of immersion, which led me to explore how creatures exist in relation to their environments. This shift has influenced my work to emphasize connections such as mimicry and symbiosis within marine ecosystems.
8. Embroidery is an inherently slow and meticulous process. How does this pace of making shape your way of observing and translating marine life into textile form?
I have not received formal art training, so I was not trained to capture subjects quickly and precisely. When I embroider, I repeatedly refer back to my sketches and reference materials. Because embroidery progresses stitch by stitch, it cannot be driven by momentum alone; it requires sustained observation throughout the process. In that sense, I feel the pace of making is well aligned with my subject matter



DRIFT, ATTENTION, AND THE QUIET LIFE OF FORMS
Review by Chih-Yang Chen, Art Director
Ayaito Marron’s work unfolds slowly. At first, the forms seem delicate, almost suspended without weight. Marine organisms drift across layered surfaces, held within translucent fabric. The space feels soft and slightly diffused, as if the light itself has been filtered. It doesn’t try to replicate the underwater environment directly, but it captures something of its atmosphere.
The use of layering is key. By placing forms across different planes, the work gains a sense of depth that embroidery alone might not achieve. Some elements appear closer, others recede. The distance between them is subtle, but it changes how the piece is read. It creates a quiet sense of movement, as if the forms are not fixed but passing through.
What stands out is the focus on smaller, less familiar organisms. These are not the creatures most people would immediately recognise. Instead, they require attention. Their forms are intricate, sometimes strange, sometimes difficult to place. That choice shifts the work away from spectacle and towards observation. It asks for a slower kind of looking.
The hand is present in the stitching, but not in an expressive or exaggerated way. Slight irregularities in line and tension give the forms a sense of movement. They don’t feel static. There’s a softness to the edges, a subtle instability that makes them feel closer to something living.
There is also a strong influence from natural history imagery, but it isn’t treated as strict documentation. Observation and imagination move together. The compositions sometimes echo scientific illustration, but they are adjusted, loosened, allowed to shift. The organisms are not fixed specimens, they feel more like interpretations.
The addition of silver leaf introduces another layer. It catches light differently from thread, creating small shifts across the surface. It’s not overly reflective but enough to suggest something changing, something not entirely stable. It adds to the sense of an environment rather than a flat image.
The framing of the works also matters. They feel contained, almost like small ecosystems held in place. There’s a sense of looking into something rather than simply at it. That distance creates a kind of quiet observation, similar to how specimens are viewed, but without becoming clinical.
What holds the work together is its pace. The process of embroidery is slow, and that slowness is carried into the final piece. It shapes how the work is made and how it is experienced. Nothing is immediate. The forms reveal themselves gradually, through attention rather than impact.