Wednesday, September 16, 2020
If not for trash TV to listen to while I sew, I would not be nearly as motivated to hang in there through the boring parts in the middle -- where the piecing is done and you just have to sew, sew, and sew some more to get the damn things finished. Yes, there's a certain calm zen in endless sewing, but it's easy to get distracted and leap up to do laundry or defrost something for dinner unless you have something to hold you to the task.
I'm binge-watching The West Wing now, having never seen it when it was on TV the first time around. Watching the fictional White House grapple with North Korea, terrorism, budget crises and mad cow disease is strangely resonant with my day job of watching the real White House grapple with real problems.
But let's talk about baby quilts. I've finished piecing and quilting all five quilts, and have embroidered four and a half names and DOBs. And unfortunately, have had to stop and fix several mistakes. They happen to the best of us, but don't you want to just kick yourself when they happen to you?
Here's one from yesterday afternoon:
Earlier in the week I realized that this dark spot, which had been apparent on one of my quilt blocks for a long time, was not just a water spot but something permanent.
Monday, September 14, 2020
If you're feeling depressed and discouraged today (as who isn't?), here's a five-minute read that will cheer you up. The New York Times visited a tiny village in Ecuador where the finest Panama hats are made, and gives us a two-page spread of photos and text that will certainly put a smile on your face. How nice to be reminded that master craftsmanship still exists and is respected.
|New York Times photo|
(Don't ask me why it took six weeks from the time this story was posted online to get it into the print newspaper. I guess we dinosaurs who still love paper have to have our noses rubbed into it every now and then.)
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the best in show winner at Form, Not Function: Quilt Art at the Carnegie. It was a dress made of yo-yos, whose train merged into a rectangular yo-yo quilt, made by Marty Ornish.
I wondered in my blog post whether the yo-yos were recycled from old quilts or newly made from old fabrics or what. This morning I was happy to find that Marty left a comment on my post that explains all. She writes:
"These two circa WW2 quilts were made by three women. The youngest, Joan Crone, is now 86, and she sewed these yo-yos 'to help pass the time during the war' and created the quilt with her mother and grandmother. Her own grandchildren didn't want these quilts, and after she saw my other work at my solo show at Visions's Art Museum, she gifted the yo-yo quilts to me with the explicit wish that I would incorporate them into my art, and she is thrilled with the response.
"Many of the yo-yos had to be repaired, and I deconstructed one of the quilts to create the dress.
"Regarding the issue you raised as to whether or not the yo-yo quilt meets the strict definition of a 'quilt,' while, as you know, a traditional quilt has three layers stitched together, with the advent of art quilts many textile museums now accept two layers of a textile held together by stitching as qualifying as a quilt."
What a good story, especially the part about how the grandchildren didn't want the quilts (boo, hiss) but they were recycled into a lovely art installation. Marty does this all the time, and is happy to receive donations of unwanted textiles to use in art. Those of you whose children or grandchildren are as unappreciative as Mrs. Crone's might want to make note of Marty's address [ firstname.lastname@example.org ] so your beloved stuff could also find a new home with someone who will treat it very well.
Here's an excellent interview in a San Diego paper in which Marty tells how she got into wearables and other fiber art.
Regarding Marty's comment about the definition of a quilt, she's right that the art quilt world has generally discarded the requirement of three layers. As one of the founders of the FNF exhibit, I was proudly responsible for writing its definition -- "layers held together by stitching" -- and participated in several discussions, both as juror and as installer, about whether a given entry met the test.
Once we received a quilt that had been accepted, but when we unwrapped it the lack of any stitching-through-layers was obvious. We loved the piece and tried and tried to find a single stitch anywhere that went through. Fortunately the artist had sent in her entry well before the deadline, and we decided to send it back to her and ask her to put in at least two or three stitches that would be clearly visible. She did, without noticeably changing anything about the piece, and the quilt went on the wall and looked great in the show.
We accepted more than one entry over the year from a well-known fiber artist who did intricate hand-stitching. It was obvious that the stitches went through multiple layers, because we could see that the back and front were different fabrics and the stitches went all the way through, so it clearly met the FNF definition -- even though the artist's website made a point of saying that she does NOT consider her work to be quilts.
I still think yo-yos are pushing the definition, because the stitching mainly goes between one yo-yo and another rather than holding the two layers of the yo-yo together, but faced with a beautiful piece like Marty's dress, you look for a reason to define it in rather than a reason to define it out.
Tuesday, September 8, 2020
I now have all five tops pieced, or at least the main portions of them. They're all pretty small and I'm debating whether to add borders to make them larger. Ordinarily I would expect medium-small quilts to just go on the wall, and probably would go out of my way NOT to add borders. But these are quilts for kids, and I know that little kids like to use their quilts -- wrap things in them, lie on them, furnish dollhouses and secret caves with them, hide under them. So what is too small to use?
Still thinking about what to do next. Meanwhile, the one that seemed most ready to be quilted up -- the 2x3 above with the blue and white stripe border -- is sandwiched and started, and should be done tomorrow.
Friday, September 4, 2020
You probably have had one of these yourself -- an item that has been on your to-do list for so long that it's easy to forget, but when you do remember you are awash in shame for having let it slip so badly. My hall of shame includes a bunch of baby quilts, the oldest one owed since February of 2013.
There's a back story: 55 years ago I met my dear friend Zuki in graduate school -- but actually it all started decades before that when her grandmother was in a sewing circle in Hawaii. Somebody in the sewing circle had access to scraps from a factory that made aloha shirts and muu-muus, a bright and beautiful array of tropical prints. Zuki's grandmother sewed the scraps into hundreds of quilt blocks, some 8 inches across and some 10 inches but all the same pattern, and eventually those blocks, never assembled into quilts, fell into Zuki's possession. She, an accomplished sewist herself but not that interested in quilting, gave them to me on condition that I make a twin bed quilt to give to her nephew, and I could do what I wanted with the rest.
I did that, maybe 25 years ago, and stashed the rest of the blocks away. Then 13 years ago Zuki's first grandchild was on the way and I was invited to the baby shower. I pulled out the stash and made a baby quilt, which was such a hit that I did the same thing for the next five grandchildren. I did the last four in a marathon in 2013, discovering that it's easier and faster to make four quilts at once than to do them separately.
But since 2013 there have been five more grandchildren, and I haven't done a single quilt. Finally two weeks ago I decided the time had come.
To my surprise, there were still an awful lot of quilt blocks left in the stash, although I had cherry-picked the best ones long ago. I managed to put together one set of blocks straight from the box.
Mostly this was easy, if tedious, although I did mutter and cuss when I got to the occasional block that had been sewed at 100 stitches to the inch and was really hard to rip out.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Every art/quilt show worth its salt has something a little different, something that doesn't follow the usual format of a flat-against-the-wall quilt. This year's FNF, of course, chose one like this for its best in show; here are some more pieces that fell into this niche.
Shannon Conley, 33°20'N, 105°33'W, 64 x 34 x 6" (detail below)
Gibson has neatly cut magazine pages into tabs, layered them and stitched everything to a fabric support. I might have wished only for a bit more color to pep up the white expanse of the top half. I hope the paper will hold up for this quilt to be shipped and seen at many more shows!