Among the works offered is this early drawing from 2005, Where I imagined every piece of clothing I own—neatly folded, stitched end to end, and rolled into a dense spiral. The core begins with garments worn closest to the body (underwear, socks) and gradually moves outward to those worn on top (coats, hats).
Though this version was drawn from imagination, I later brought it to life as a textile sculpture—using second-hand clothing from strangers rather than my own. You can see that finished piece here.
100% of the profits from this sale will go directly to the Trevor Project — and thanks to a generous matching donor, every dollar will be doubled for artwork purchased before June 29th.
Support The Trevor Project this Pride Month and show LGBTQ+ young people that Pride Belongs Here — and that they belong, too!
Pride is here to stay, even if we all don’t celebrate the same way. By purchasing a work today, you will make a life-saving impact for LGBTQ+ young people anywhere and everywhere. Every dollar raised helps fund critical crisis intervention and suicide prevention services.
With gratitude and pride,
❤️ Derick
I created this photo-based textile art piece in 2021, but I did the hand-sketch a few years before on scrap paper (below).
However, the idea was inspired by some photos I found in the trash around 1991 (below). Back then I lived in the East Village in NYC. I did a lot of work with found objects back then. In fact, some people called me the trash king.
If memory serves, the detail image of the sweater was inside the gatefold photo. The paperclip and brass safety pin are my additions.
I like the idea that the hand can ‘see’ in a sense, making a picture in the mind of what it feels. A kind of synesthesia.
I guess I was making ‘textile art’ even then. Ideas sometimes take a while to percolate for me. I’m still not completely sure what this piece is about, but I keep coming back to it, so I’m going with it.
Thanks to the ever so patient Scott Hall for posing with me. See more of my drawings here
It’s so nice to see this custom photographic print installed in the office of the lovely aerospace engineer, Giorgia Lera. The photo is of a clothing sculpture I made in 2016, called Night Sky. It was printed in Italy and mounted to a Dibond panel and cradled. As you can see, we went big! Here is what she had to say about this piece of textile art:
“I felt a sense of quiet joy when I first saw “Night Sky” in a magazine and I was really fascinated by how it was made. When we moved into our new engineering office, I immediately knew that I wanted a big “Night Sky” print behind my desk. Our company (Lafer Spa in Italy) makes machines that process fabrics, so Derick’s work made perfect sense in our environment.”
Giorgia initially reached out in 2019, after seeing my work in a magazine. We are not sure which one, but it may have been Hive Life.
Above is the original photo. Learn more about the actual sculpture, here.
I’m very happy to share my first art-furniture commission. These three clothing sculptures serve as bases for a glass-topped table. The color scheme was inspired by California’s legendary sunsets, but through the lens of memory, fantasy and photo manipulation. It bears a relationship to a piece from 2016 called Night Sky.
Back in October, an architecture firm based in LA called Andmore Partners reached out and said something like: “We love your work, can you make us a table out of stacked clothing? It will be for a store, so it has to be very stable and easy to move. And you’ll have to ship it from The Catskills to Venice Beach.”
Creativity is about solving problems. So I designed an armature from white pine and upholstered it with one inch strips of clothing. The three bases are pretty big, so I made them in two parts with a removable top to provide access to an internal handle.
So are they hollow? The secret space inside each base, holds the stores tied to the thousands of garments used to create this piece.
You can see them a Circular Library in Los Angeles, a new clothing store grappling with sustainability. If you find yourself in Venice Beach, stop by and say “hello” to them?
Travers Park
76-9 34th Ave,
Jackson Heights
Queens, NY 11372
This Thursday is looking like the perfect day for an outdoor clothing sculpture installation. So enough nail-biting, I’m calling it! I have all the clothing sorted, the U-Haul is reserved and I’ve got some great helpers lined up. Now all I need is you! Come by in the morning to see us in action, or after lunch to see the completed clothing sculpture.
To Recap, I’ll cover the hill-shaped lawn in Travers Park with second-hand clothing, arranged like a giant color wheel but with a dark center and a light outer edge. The lawn is shaped like the letter D and is over 200 feet wide. This will be the largest piece I have ever made, by far.
At the end of the day, I’ll weigh all the clothing that was used and count the number of garments. Using the latest statistics, I’ll then calculate how long it would take for that much textile waste to be generated by NYC residents. Having done these calculations before, I’ll wager ~ one minute.
Thanks again to The NYC Parks Department for getting behind this project!
I recently reconnected with the clothing rubbings I did in 2019. These drawings seek to reconnect us with second-hand clothing and express the energy contained therein. I developed a technique for creating rubbings of second-hand clothing using drafting film. I like this material for its strength and for its fine matt surface, which captures shapes and textures beautifully. Through trial and error, I settled on watercolor crayons for mark-making, as they are both supple and durable.
To create these drawings, I combed through hundreds of pounds of used clothing to find items that have been well loved but also have interesting details, like lace trim or square buttons. I then arranged the garments on a tabletop using a visual language both poetic and symbolic. Once satisfied with the arrangements, I covered the clothing with drafting film. To create the rubbings, I followed the contours of the clothing, seeking out textures, and adding additional details by hand. This process was developed to express my respect for second-hand clothing, which I think of as our second skin. In the coming months, I plan to explore new materials and try out new ideas. For example, I’d like to create portraits of friends by borrowing an outfit for a day. I’d like to create rubbings of the treads of people’s shoes. The list goes on.
I hope this work creates enough distance to enable the viewer to see the clothing from a new perspective, and perhaps even see themselves in the work.
These works were created during a pop-up open studio I did in Queens, with support from The Queens Council of the Arts.
Purple is the gayest color. Only last year did I learn that, but I suspect I always knew. Which explains why I never wore purple. Even once. Newly aware of this, I had such an urge to reverse my internalized homophobia. Perhaps a coincidence, perhaps not, a purple t-shirt appeared in my used clothing pile, almost immediately. It was new and perfect in every way. Maybe I had seen it before, but it had been invisible.
Thank you, Mimi McGurl and Farm Arts Collective for your art talk on queer gardening, where you helped me embrace purple, and gay up my garden. It has never looked better.
Pride month is winding down, but in light of recent events, let’s have a pride YEAR. Can we please? I have never felt gayer.
Thrilled to be interviewed by Katie Dalebout for the Let it Out podcast! We had so much to talk about, from clothing sculpture, to listening nights, to lucid dreaming, to textile recycling… let me know what you think?
Among many things, we talked about being college DJs and Record Club. Below are some of my playlists from 1985 when I was just a lad. I’d still listen to any of this quite happily. Here is an excerpt from Katie:
This week’s episode is a conversation with artist Derick Melander. He’s a sculptor who works with secondhand clothing to create clothing sculptures that explore the intersection between global consumerism and the intimate relationship we have with what we wear. My dear friend Sacha Jones has known Derick for years through being core members of their Record Club, which started in the late nineties as a place to share music with friends and friends-of-friends.
We begin by setting up how we met at a record club on Sacha’s roof in the East Village, and the conversation goes on to cover his work, creative habits, navigating change, and much more. We talk about music nostalgia, clothing, textiles, sharing clothing, consumerism, leaving traces, art school, dream work, friendship, family, relationships, connection, socializing and the power of the neighborhood.
