Extending the Useful Life by Ruth Tabancay, made from hand-stitched tea bags.

Anyone who has ever knitted or crocheted, embroidered or felt the pull of yarn beneath her fingers understands the tactile pleasures of working with fiber.

Although women have labored for untold years making bedding, clothing and other functional items for the home, it is only recently that artists have brought their love—and talent—at weaving, quilting, spinning, knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, crewel, embroidery and a dozen other fiber crafts to make fine art.

The first fiber art show took place only 50 years ago; today, there are dozens of universities where students can major in fiber arts, and exhibitions of work by fiber artists are regularly mounted in museums.

“Crossing the Lines: The Many Faces of Fiber,” on view at the World Financial Center through Feb. 19, is a wonderful introduction for anyone unfamiliar with this art as well as a treat for those who have seen it before. The 57 pieces in the show, many of which also combine metals, paper, wood and other non-fiber material into their work, can be beautiful, humorous or even discomforting. Most make the viewer want to stop and look.

nubigi, 000, 080 by Hyunju Kim, made from sewing on cloth.

Not surprisingly, the artists in this show (most are women), of­ten turn traditional “wo­men’s work” upside down, or use it to make political or social commentary.

From afar, for example, Katherine Knauer’s quilt, Con­ventional Forces, could pass for an American classic. But up close, one sees that each swatch of material shows a different aspect of the business of war—bombing, flying military planes, soldiers taking aim.

Showing an equally mordant sense of humor is the five-foot high American flag by Adrienne Sloane. Only upon close examination does one see  that it is  tattered and  made from knitted linen full of holes. Its title is Fated Glory.

In A Korean Woman in Modern Times, Won Ju Seo explores her dual identities of being a modern Korean-American woman through a Korean blouse made of square and rectangular pieces of silk. They represent “windows,” she says, through which she ex­plored the world—a freedom de­prived to many Korean women who grew up in a traditional Confucian culture.

The role of family in these artists’ lives is also present. Ruth Tabancay, for example, was snuggled under a comforter with her daughter helping with her geometry homework when she noticed the accumulation of her used tea bags on the window sill.  She became fascinated by the symmetry of them. The result is a full-size bedspread titled Extending the Useful Life made by hand-stitching hundreds of the bags to a muslin backing.

The Cathartic Birth is Rachel C. Wright’s response to the 36 hours of labor she endured during her son’s birth. Made out of wire, parchment paper and masking tape, it is a crouched figure with hunched shoulders and arms stretched 10 feet in front of her, seeming to beg for help. The woman’s face, though virtually featureless, speaks her pain.

Color has always had an important place in fiber art and can be found in abundance here. Ellie Winberg’s Shades of Teal, made from handmade paper with pigments mounted on canvas, evokes Mark Rothko’s work, and Betty Vera explores the interaction of rich color through her jacquard tapestry Division.

There is just one shortcoming in this lovely show. The organizers failed to put labels next to the works. Viewers must find the creators’ names in a pamphlet distributed at the door. These artists deserve more credit.

“Crossing the Lines: The Many Fa­ces of Fiber” at WFC Courtyard Ga­lle­ry. To 2/19, Tue–Sun, 12–4 p.m. On Feb. 9, at 6 p.m. there will be a talk by three of the artists.