sometimes size does matter

Recently I have been thinking about large quilts and the works of art that have inspired them. It began when I got yet another call for submissions by the Studio Art Quilt Association. Now those who have been following my blog know that I have a love/hate relationship with SAQA and the "art quilt" movement in particular. I think they do have done a reasonable of defining an art quilt movement and certainly the individuals who founded and direct the group are hard working kind people. But I also think in their efforts there is a push to a homogeneity that hurts the movements.

This time they are seeking quilts for a series of presentations about what an art quilt is--a noble and worthy cause. Some of the work will be permanently included in a museum. I would love to participate but yet again they request that the quilts be no bigger than 12 inches on any one side.  Twelve inches!! Can you imagine what a 12 inch section of my work looks like? Even my placemats are bigger than 12 inches on any one side. Garrumph!! And this is not the first time they have made similar size restrictions. I would love to participate in their annual auction but again 12 inches!!!

To be fair to them, SAQA says this size makes it easy to ship the pieces by Priority Mail. A reasonable concern but.... And this is a big BUT. If the purpose of this particular exhibit is to educate the public as what the contemporary art quilt movement is about, then shouldn't they make arrangements to show art quilts in all the sizes they come in. Now they do have opportunities that I can participate in--the portfolio is just images. Some shows take work of other sizes. But if the purpose of this particular show is to define what an art quilt is aren't they doing a disservice to the art quilt community by having these size limitations? Shouldn't art be the size it is meant to be?

Now don't get me wrong--there are also many smaller pieces that I love. Think of those wonderful Persian miniatures--each so complete and perfect. Can you imagine them enlarged to room size--wouldn't they just be cartoonish? Or the delicate perfect etchings of Rembrandt? Clearly they need this intimacy. There are even miniature quilts so perfect in their stitchery that I come back to them again and again. Made larger they would just be another patchwork quilt.

But right now I am drawn to the power of large--or should I say LARGE--works of art. I think of the  paintings by Morris Louis--huge fearless sweeps of color and movement. Jackson Pollock--so much color and detail. The design apparent from a distance. The installations of Eva Hesse--rows of similar structures dominating the room. One structure by itself is almost trivial. It is the group that adds the power to the piece. Even the Cluny Tapestries at the Cloisters--don't the Lady and the Unicorn have to be larger than life?  

My mind returns to Sky Above the Clouds IV by Georgia O'Keefe--have you ever seen it? Rows and rows of clouds. She had flown above the clouds and tried to capture the feeling and expanse of the sky.  I reread how she painted it in a garage--working nonstop to get it finished before the temperature got too cold.  The work itself is 96 x 288 inches.  That's 8 feet by 24 feet if my math is right. It is so big that when she first framed the canvas with 2x4s--it broke the 2x4s. It is so big they had to make a special door to get it into the Art Institute of Chicago. Wonderful. It is so big that they couldn't move it to San Francisco to show it there. Now, it's been a while since I have seen it--my parents used to live in southern Illinois and I would take the train to visit them A stop over to visit the painting was always a delight. I remember looking at it and feeling dwarfed by it. You can see a picture of it here.

One of those pieces tucked away in the back of my mind.Usually I don't remember exactly what it looks like--but always I am trying to capture the splendor and enormity of the sky that it helped inspire in me.  Just consider prairie sky--it was 96 x 110 inches.

Prairie dawn--a mere 96x96 inches.

Or even endless sky:

Now endless sky is actually only 45 x 45 inches. Not as big as the others but just the right size for this quilt. It conveys the feeling that I want of the sky reaching up forever. Expanding overhead and seeming to dwarf the viewer. It is this power--the power of the repetition of the blocks, the power of the size of the quilt and the fabrics that can be individually examined but then become part of the canvas of the quilt that is important to me. Can you see the influence of O'Keefe in this quilt?

What would these pieces look like if I just included a 12 x 12 inch sample--a mere nothing. Just piecing, patchwork. The individual blocks I use are 8 x 8 inches. Not even worth showing you.

And this is where I think that SAQA by having rules about the size of quilts is creating a status quo of their own. Doesn't this result in work that often looks the same? Now clearly some quiltmakers work in smaller sizes and this requirement is easy for them. Others have work where small sections can stand alone. Or they make test pieces that are small. For them it is probably not an issue.

So why I don't just make a piece that is 12 x 12 with the same amount of detail?  Even if I could technically do it--and I don't think the cotton fabrics that I like would allow it--the piece still would not have that all encompassing power of a large quilt that takes over the space with its size. Changing the size of my quilts--even if I am going from 45 x 45 to 96 x 96--requires me to rethink everything since size is important to my work. The feeling is different. The power is different.

Recently there has been a lot of discussion of the role of SAQA in the art quilt world. In a recent lecture Jane Dunnewold mentions that the quilt world is dominated by women. While there is nothing wrong with that--and indeed a lot right with that--doesn't the requirement of small intimate pieces reinforce this trend and the homogeneity of the art quilt world. Check out her essay here. And yes, probably one of the reasons I love the O'Keefe work is that it was made by one very determined powerful woman.

Quilts also can have this power and importance. Shouldn't SAQA in its effort to define what is an art quilt also try to capture this feeling? After all, if commentators are worried about the art quilt movement becoming something more isn't this precisely where they should focus? Not on sections of the quilt or intimate samplers--not that there is anything wrong with them--but without the larger works can the entire scope of the movement be seen.  If we are going to take ourselves seriously as artists shouldn't the art be the size it is meant to be??

It seems to me there are lots of ways they could do this--they could include larger quilts in their presentation. Sure, it might cost more for shipping but that might be worth it. At the very least they could create a supplemental Power Point presentation. For the Niche Awards I got to send a framed 8 1/2 x 11 image of my quilt rainbow hills. Another easy and inexpensive solution.

What do you think? Do you make large pieces? Do you find a difference between the intimate studies and the larger pieces? Do you feel the size of the work can add to the power of the work?

putting the "fine" back in fine craft

Today I must confess I got my dander up. Now that is truly a wonderful opening sentence which I never thought I could use in my blog. I don't even know what dander is--can it go up?--maybe like the hair on my cat's tail. Do I get my dander up or does my dander just go up? You tell me.

Anyhow, my latest issue of American Craft Magazine came. Now I don't know about you, but I associate American Craft Magazine with work that is so finely made that it seems impossible that a person could actually do it. As was noted in this issue about Paul Stankard--known for his intricate recreations of botanical scenes in paperweights--he truly "minds the details." I think of the brilliant ceramics of Cliff Lee--he can spend years perfecting the right ancient Chinese glaze--and then render perfect dragons arching around vases with necks so fine and thin it doesn't seem humanely possible. As is explained on his home page, he is taking time honored techniques and making them his--saying something new with them.

I think of my friend Kari Lonning with her exquisitely made baskets of dyed reed--hairy baskets, double walled baskets. They tell stories of distant landscapes, different events all clearly identifiable as made by Kari. The amazing wrapped and woven glass sculptures of Jeanne Heifetz--not a single hole in the piece. Gorgeous dreamy work that again you can't believe a person actually made. You get the idea.


So when I turned to the article about the quilt maker Malka Dubrowsky in the magazine I was more than a bit taken aback. The picture of her with a quilt draped over her shoulders outside. The many designs she created of hand dyed fabric--perhaps a little too reminiscent at first glance of the quilts of Gee's Bend not only in their designs but also in their lack of sewing technique--and don't get me wrong, I love those quilts--great article about how they used fractals as a design element in the SDA Journal--but some of them are sure not square. Big hand quilting stitches-(as you may remember my grandmother took out stitches that were too big.) Machine quilting that displayed its own problems. Here is my blog post about my grandmother's oak leaf quilt.

Now I must admit that in looking at Malka's work a second time, I did find intrigue in some of her designs. Her colors were nice and bright. Clearly from the home page of her web site she is going for a "down home" quilts on the front porch look. Check it out at http://www.stitchindye.com/ Her blog had some interesting points as she discusses a bit her thought process but... http://stitchindye.blogspot.com/ And I will be the first to admit that I liked how "hand-made" her work looks. Very cozy. To some extent similar to the concept that I am trying to achieve in my work. I also have the feeling that she is a great businesswoman and I do always admire that.

But unlike the work of a Cliff Lee or Kari Lonning  I really don't think she is taking a technique and by her attention to detail and skill making it her own. I don't even really think that is her purpose in making the quilts. There has been an interesting discussion both on the Studio Art Quilt Association (SAQA) forum and in the Surface Design Association magazine about the problems that quilts have getting recognized as "art." Maybe I am wrong--maybe quilts should just be quilts--fun and funky and functional.  But I think they can and should be more. Whether the quilt is meant to be functional or a wall hanging, I think it can also convey that additional artistic something that takes us beyond the realm of cozy and functional to that place of "take your breath away."

And I guess I felt a bit betrayed by American Craft Magazine--aren't they supposed to be promoting the best in American Craft--not just something that they consider to be fresh? Shouldn't they and by implication we be pushing the limits of what we can say with quilts just a bit more? Shouldn't we be trying to respect the craft in fine craft? Or am I wrong--is that so yesterday? What do you think?   Where do you see the place of fine in fine craft?

thoughts on why I make quilts

Recently I read an amazing statistic on Twitter that 14% of all households in this country have at least one member who makes quilts. Think of that--that's huge. Over 16 million households spending a total of over 3.5 BILLION dollars in quilting fabric and supplies. Check out the results here--http://ow.ly/1VPma--(thanks to Quilters Newsletter in cooperation with International Quilt Market and Festival, a division of Quilts, Inc for this fact). Average age is 62. Female. They even researched the favorite types of fabric prints--but I digress.

Now let's face it--most of these quilt makers are making what we call traditional patterns. The pieced patterns--Ohio Star, Trip Around the World, Irish Chain. Patterns that they can name better than me. They are doing the newest methods in quilt making--Slash and Stash (or is it Stash and Slash),  Strip Piecing, Watercolor. Names that fly by me as they proudly tell me of their latest adventure. Do I dye my own fabric? Have I seen the latest TV show?

And I must confess there is a part of me that is a bit envious. In another life, I would love to make the perfect Double Wedding Ring Quilt. What about a Tumbling Block Quilt--hand pieced and quilted. I love the simplicity of the older Amish Quilts. A wool quilt in perfect colors. Wouldn't it be fun to see the larger patterns develop in a Storm at Sea pattern?

Now in reality I know it is not for me. I used to make log cabin quilts. Lots of them. I love that design. But I tired of the long seams. I tired of the frustration of so much repetition. I used to play all sorts of games with myself--counting the number of pieces left to sew together. Promising I could take a break when I ran out of bobbin thread. Trying not to count the amount of work left to do.  It still wasn't enough and I worked on developing my own style.

Now there have also  has been an interesting series of discussions on the SAQA forum--that is short for Studio Art Quilt Association for those who don't know. A great organization of artists who are exploring quilts as artistic expression. Some of the members I respect the most are questioning whether the definition of quilt--three layers, attached--is too confining. Would they sell better if it was called fiber art? Or textile art? Does the history of quilt making lessen the perceived value of the work? Are we now beyond this?

All interesting questions. And very sincere issues.

But I think there is more to quilt making than just following the latest patterns and designs. I think of an older woman I knew slightly. Her husband at the end of his life was becoming even more ornery and demanding by the day as his health failed. Basically as she said--he was impossible to live with--but she had no choice.  She admitted quite bluntly that without her weekly quilt group she would have gone crazy herself.

I remember a wonderful presentation I saw while waiting to give a presentation at a Quilting Guild in Williamstown. Woman after woman proudly showing the quilts they had made so a distant city hospital could wrap them around children whose lives would be all too brief. The only memory some parents would hold of an anticipated child. Hundreds of quilts made with so much care and purpose and sent off to lessen sorrow just a bit.

I think of myself a couple of days ago. As you may remember from my last post, I had to go to a funeral for a friend of mine who died far too young and far too suddenly. The young adult children trying to make sense of the senseless. The minister--a friend of the family--trying to promise an after life that did not at least at the time provide me with answers. For solace I pulled weeds in my garden with a quiet rhythm. I mulched day lilies. Labeled iris until I had made some order out of a chaos in my mind.

And for me I guess I need to keep this larger concept of quilts in my work. I feel that it gives an additional meaning and depth that fiber art would not. By adding these memories of the traditional my quilts become part of a greater whole. Does it lessen their freshness that they are rooted in the past? I don't know--and I am not sure I care. Would I want to forget all those other quilt makers and the needs that quilts fill? I don't think so. At least not right now.

And you--do you keep the traditional in your work? Do you think it should be kept? I am not sure of the answers.

Not my grandmother's quilts?

Not my grandmother's quilts!!!  I beg to disagree. Recently there was a debate on the Studio Art Quilt forum about the traditions of quilt making. Some felt that the continued reference to tradition keeps contemporary art quilts from being considered art. Some even suggested that we drop the word "quilts" and call the pieces "fiber art". Can you believe that?


This is a bit of a long story about one quilt and why I personally will never forget the quilts of my grandmother and especially one particular quilt--here is part of it.

Now before I continue I must tell you a bit about MY granny as I remember her. She was a spry woman--tiny--I don't think she ever weighed more than 100 pounds. Her hair always neatly in a bun. Outside she waged a constant battle with the dandelions. Inside she read and re-read her books--Reader's Digest, books she had sent away for. Little notes in tiny handwriting--always in pencil--"read in 1952-took 3 days-not worth it", "re-read in 1956-still took 3 days--still not worth it". She even annotated her Bible.

But the story started long before that. When she was 7 her father died leaving her mother to support two daughters--there were boarders, laundry for the boarders, ironing for boarders. A hard life. But she was always making sure she had enough money to send Granny to the Teacher's College and her sister to Nursing School. Aunt Jo liked being a nurse. Granny did not like being a teacher. When she met Grandpops, she thought that he was her way out-- he was so silent he must be very smart. Alas he just had nothing to say.

Grandpops had a farm west of town so that's where she went. Life there must have been tough for her. Money was tight.  She took a job at the local high school to keep the farm during the Great  Depression--driving the old black Ford six miles into town every day.  In the winter, the road wasn't plowed--you just followed the ruts left by the other cars--all cars were the same size back then anyway. But I digress.  At home there were more hired hands to feed. Sausage to can. Soap to be made. Dill pickles to be preserved.

But there were also her quilts. The log cabin quilts made of my dad's old wool pants--they added warmth to the beds. These were made upstairs on the treadle sewing machine looking across the fields to the river. Even the hired help got a couple of these quilts.  Then there were the quilts to cover the beds. To be carefully folded each night before going to bed. Made from feed sack cloth in wonderful flowery designs. She had the double wedding ring, Grandpops had one with sunflowers.

Now back then the newspaper published a different quilt pattern each week. She carefully clipped out these patterns and stuck them into a large manilla envelope. Not that she would waste her good money and time making someone else's design.  No, this was just for inspiration.  

So when she decided to make a quilt for the CLOSET of the guest bedroom--the quilt that would be one of her crowning achievements-- of course she had to make her own design. On the eastern half of the farm, the pasture was a virgin oak forest--I remember seeing the path that was cut when they used to drive herds of cattle through into Chicago. Large wonderful friendly Burr Oaks.

Of course the design would be an oak leaf. She must have traced and retraced the design for the leafs and the acorns until it was just right.

Look at all the curves she had to cut. So many intricate designs. For this quilt she bought fabric--just the right shades of browns and tans--this quilt deserved better than feed sack cloth. And she painstakingly appliqued the leaves and acorns in her tiny stitches. Even the border had an intricate matching design.

I'm sure she took the quilt to the local quilting bee--she had to--they were her in-laws. But then she would come home and pick out stitches that were too big. Look at the detail. Even the quilting design had circles of acorns. When needed she added not one but two rows of stitches for emphasis.

 She made other quilts after that but this is the one I remember most. Occasionally she would take me up to the guest bedroom--walk into the big closet there--and carefully unwrap the quilt so that I could admire it again and again.

Now the farm has long ago been sold. Her house has been torn down. The furniture in the guest bedroom is in my guest bedroom. I  have the oak leaf quilt--still folded. Still too good to be used.
We can debate if the quilt is art or fine craft--but it remains in many ways the ultimate statement of her quest for beauty and order. In my opinion my quilts and even my life are influenced by the traditions of my grandmother. I know I can't forget my grandmother and the traditions she taught me. Every time I make the back of one of my quilts, I am honoring her. What about you? What traditions do you have? What do you think? 

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