Found and lost -- Geta Brătescu

Last month I had the pleasure of a day at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, and discovered an artist I had not previously known -- Geta Brătescu, born in 1926 in Romania, who worked in fiber.  The museum had three of her works, collaged and machine-stitched onto heavy canvas, in an exhibit called "The Long Run."

Medea's Hypostases II, 1980 (side view below)

The conceit of this exhibition was that artists with long careers keep on being innovative and creative (duh!), and included works from their later years.  Some of the artists in the exhibit are well known -- Louise Bourgeois, Ellsworth Kelly, Georgia O'Keeffe, Andy Warhol, Philip Guston -- while others were new to me, including Brătescu. 

Each of her pieces was about 30 inches tall, rippled from the heavy stitching, with the edges roughly zigzagged.  The wall tags identified the medium as "drawing with sewing machine on textile."

Medea's Hypostases III, 1980 (detail below)

Medea's Hypostases IV, 1980 (detail below)

When I got home I tried to understand the titles -- "hypostasis" (the preferred spelling) in philosopher-talk means "substance, essence or underlying reality".  In medical and science talk it refers to blood settling in the lower part of the body or sediment settling to the bottom of a fluid.  In genetics it refers to the action of one gene being suppressed by the action of another gene.

Apply all of these to Medea, Euripides' tragic heroine who kills her own children to spite the husband who cruelly abandoned her, and maybe we're seeing the revenge course through her system and sink, overpowering her motherly love.  Or maybe something else...

As you might imagine, I loved these works, took pictures and looked forward to sharing them with you.  Finally last night I got home, ready to write some blog posts after a long time on the road.  But in this morning's newspaper was an obituary of Geta Brătescu, who died at age 92 in Bucharest, the week after I saw her work.

She worked in many styles and mediums, in graphic design, collage, drawing, photography and film; turned to textiles only in the 1980s.  After the breakup of the Russian bloc, she was discovered in the West, had some high-profile shows and represented Romania at the Venice Biennale last year. 

In some ways Brătescu's work reminds me of that of Ana Lupas, another Romanian fiber artist whom I discovered a couple of years ago -- both of them working with modest materials and basic sewing stitches, but with a lyrical quality and powerful presence.  Indeed, when I googled Lupas just now to see whether she is still alive (I think yes) I found that she and Brătescu had at least one joint exhibit, about ten years ago.

I'm happy to have discovered this work, but unhappy to find out, so soon, that this artist is gone. 
 

Quilts in the newspaper

I'm late in catching up with the newspapers, struggling with jet lag, but I just read an interesting art review in last Friday's New York Times.  It seems that William Arnett, the famous discoverer/promoter of the Gees Bend quilters and other black Southern outsider artists, has begun to give away the artworks collected by his foundation.  The Metropolitan Museum in New York received one of the first such gifts, and has a big show of the work through September 23.

In a glowing review, Roberta Smith, the Times' chief art critic, gives high praise to several of the best-known Gees Bend quilts on display, including one from the famous U.S. postage stamp series.  The show also contained several pieces by Thornton Dial and other artists who made sculptures from discarded tools, metal, tarps and other junk.

in the show:  Loretta Pettway, Medallion















I was happy reading this review -- the quilts were regarded as art.  But towards the end of the review, the critic just couldn't help herself from falling into the same old stereotypes.

She devoted four column-inches to a discussion that started "It is de rigueur when writing on exhibitions of this kind to review the shortcomings of the terms used to allude to the vast body of art... created by people limited by racial inequities, poor education, mental or physical challenges, or poverty" and ended with "Let's just call all of it art and proceed."  (If you're going to just call it art, why go through the litany of "shortcomings" and the recital of the politically correct terms used to describe the stuff?)

She points out that "self-taught" as a descriptor "didn't work since many artists are self-taught in some way.  (Quilters, for example, learn their art from their female relatives.)"

Oh, Roberta!!!  Couldn't you at least have said "some quilters"?  You're obviously unaware of the huge industry of quilt instruction, and I'll forgive you that, but do you really think that quilting is still a homespun craft carried on in a log cabin or sod house?  And that quilts are inseparable from grandmas?

At least she called us "artists."

SDA show 7 -- hand stitching

Have I saved the best for last?  I love hand stitching, and am always happy to see plenty of it in a fiber art show.

Susan Moss, Yes It's Been a Long Time (details below)

The warm background tones were put on with dye and fabric paint; the line drawings are stitched.  I love the jittery line of the stitching, making wonky pitcher and glasses.  I love the doodles at right and left, mystery marks that we don't understand, and the lettering at center that requires decipherment.  Not sure why the artist has let the text disintegrate; perhaps the speaker doesn't really want to share that sangria...

Diane Siebels, Untitled (detail below)

Just when I got to be able to recognize a Siebels quilt from the other side of the room (I've seen several of her huge profile heads in various shows over the last few years) she pulls a new technique out of the hat.  This is a whole cloth quilt, the design entirely applied with long hand stitches in heavier cotton and wool -- yes, even the roses, thorns and owl on the outer panels.  Hard to say if I like it better up close than from farther away; the imagery is subtle from afar and exciting in close-up.

Roz Ritter, The Great Unknown (detail below)

This is a picture of the artist in sixth grade, printed on several sheets of kozo paper and hand stitched.  I like the contrast between the blurry photo and the crisp stitching, outlining the plaid of her dress.  I'm not so sure about the overall presentation; is it a bit too casual, raggedy at the edges and simply pinned to the wall?  Do those hanging threads hang a bit too long, drawing the eye out of the scene and down to the floor?  Oh well, just look at the detail shot and fall in love.

Amy Meissner, Inheritance (detail below)

Meissner is well known for working with old textiles; here she started with an unfinished needlepoint panel and extended it into a large quilt with a timeless motto.  As a lover of repurposing beat-up and abandoned textiles myself, I thrill to this piece.

I love the fact that the original stitcher apparently ran out of beige yarn and finished up the southwest corner in pink, and that the canvas got all rhomboid with stitching; I love the manufacturer's ID stamped on the bottom of the canvas (can you see it? "Hiawatha Heirloom Super Canvas").  I like the way the new stitching blends with, yet contrasts with, the original.

I'm a little confused about the cranky cri de coeur; is she addressing the original stitcher who left this pathetic UFO for somebody else to rescue?  Or is she addressing her husband and kids or sloppy officemates?  Despite the ambiguity, or perhaps because of it, maybe this is my favorite piece in the whole show.  

The show, sponsored by the Surface Design Association, continues at the Schweinfurth Memorial Art Center in Auburn NY through August 21.

SDA show 6 -- machine stitching

After the interruption of telling you about the SAQA show at the Indianapolis Museum of Art, I'm resuming my longer reports on the SDA show at the Schweinfurth Memorial Art Center in Auburn NY, a show that I found much more interesting because of the wider variety of subjects and techniques.  Today I'll talk about machine stitching used as the main method of creating pattern and design.

Claire Jones, Whole Surface: Tranquil 1

Well, I'll admit it, maybe I'm biased toward this work because it's so similar to work that I have been experimenting with myself.  The artist has heavily machine stitched, to the point that the underlying canvas support is no longer visible.

She points out in her artist statement that she likes the distortion of the flat canvas and the fact that the stitching allows the form to be self-supporting, and I would make both these points in regard to my own stitched sculptures.  I like the biomorphic form in this piece and wonder what she has made in subsequent work in this series.

Shea Wilkinson, Data Set (detail below)

Here's another piece that gives me deja vu to my own work: an unfolded geometric solid that makes an interesting projection of a world map.  Although the different colors of the stitching represent different data variables, we're not told what they mean.  (Why do you suppose Europe has no warm colors whatsoever?  And poor UK doesn't even have any green or blue -- maybe it's because of Brexit.)

I like the way the work spreads out on the wall and yet retains a 3-D character; I like how Antarctica is perfectly centered in its own pentagon.

Bob Mosier, Inner City Block; a variation (detail below)

This large hanging is made entirely of machine stitching, and in a masterpiece of overachievement, it uses black, white and 11 values of gray thread to give subtle shading on the ziggurats.  The shading isn't totally realistic -- you don't see deep shadow on both sides of a cube -- so it gives a rounded effect, as if the stones have worn away under centuries of footsteps.  This took a LOT of stitching and a LOT of control.

Tomorrow I'll show you hand stitching.  The SDA show continues at the Schweinfurth through August 21.
  

SDA show 5 -- other strange materials

Yes, it's sort of a fiber show, but expect all kinds of other materials, fiber-like or not, to show up.

Ellen Schiffman, Star (details below)

Here's a piece constructed of Q-tips, making an academic arrangement of specimens such as you might find in the natural history museum, presented in an important wooden case.  Each one is different; they could be sea anemones, crystals or the seedheads of dandelions ready to float away.  

I like this piece for its austere palette and formal symmetry, the variety of effects she has achieved by cutting and assembling the Q-tips in different ways.  And of course against the austerity and formality, there's humor.

Xia Gao, Breaths (detail below)

Austere palette and everyday materials again, obsessively transformed into an elegant presentation: start with stretched canvas, add a bazillion plain old metal pins.  The artist statement talks about "double-sided images," which makes me wonder whether the pictures might have been displayed away from the wall to see the pointed ends as well as the heads.

Just the slightest touch of red enlivens the left-hand piece of the triptych.

Next post:  let's see some stitching!!!

The SDA show, "Transgressing Traditions," will be at the Schweinfurth Memorial Art Center, Auburn NY, through August 21.

SDA show 4 -- plastic

Any time you see a fiber show that's looking for "new," "nontraditional," "edgy" or "innovative" work, you'll see stuff made out of plastic, sure as night follows day.  And nine times out of ten, the artist statement will say this is a commentary on consumer waste and environmental degradation.  Some might even argue that making quilts or weavings or whatever out of plastic has now become traditional, maybe even a cliche.  

So when you find some of these objects in a show, you don't really have to stop and think whether this is revolutionary or innovative, because it isn't.  You can cut to the chase: do you like the object, how it was made and how it looks?

Zona Sage, The New Black

I vote yes for this piece, which is made from plastic billboard signs, sewed together as a quilt.  The orange is striking, and I love the way the artist has sliced up the letters to make an abstract design, still recognizable as typography but also formally animated and balanced. Particularly nice is the way the shapes blend into one another across the seamlines, and how the figure and ground shift back and forth -- are we seeing orange on a white background or vice versa?  My only wish would be for this to be four times as big (it's about 30 inches across, as I recall) for real impact.

Emily Dvorin, Urban Ephemeral

I like this piece, too, a "basket" woven from plastic oxygen tubing, cable ties, acupuncture needle holders and some wire.  The medical materials are a bit off-putting, but the colors are light and bright and the green leaf-shaped doodads take the edge off the industrial vibe.

Christine Holtz, Ten Second Rule (detail below)

I thought this work, a big bag-like form made from junk food wrappers, was a little less successful.  I know we're supposed to take the message that junk food is bad for you and even disgusting in hindsight (the artist statement notes that the object is wedged in the corner "like a giant piece of discarded gum") but to me it just looked like a beanbag chair with a particularly busy print cover.  Been there, seen that.

Next post:  other non-fiber materials in the spotlight.

SDA show 3 -- more prizewinners

There were several quilts in the SDA show, but only one was spectacular, and it took third prize:

Gerri Spilka, Interactions #22: Hinged (detail below)

This was a very large quilt (I should have taken a picture with somebody standing there for scale) and impeccably designed and crafted.  I liked the strong, clear colors and the quirky shapes -- banjos?  melons?  It was densely machine quilted.

I'm not sure what makes it "transgressive."  The artist tried to finesse her way around this question by describing it as "stepping off from traditional quilting methods and composition," but haven't we all, in this corner of the art/quilt world?  Fortunately, I don't put a lot of importance on sticking to show themes. I'm just glad the jurors voted this one in.

Gwen Lowery, Aurora Corona 1 (detail below)

This piece, which took an honorable mention, is also very large.  It's densely machine stitched onto canvas, then stretched onto five panels, hung slightly separated.  She used a commercial embroidery machine to execute the watery, abstracted design, perhaps an aurora, perhaps an out-of-focus flower.

I was intrigued by this piece because I too have been experimenting with dense machine stitching onto canvas (read about it here).  But the effect is totally different: mine bulges and waves while Lowery's is perfectly flat.  How nice to find so much potential variation within a single technique.

The show, "Transgressing Traditions," is co-sponsored by the Surface Design Association and the host Schweinfurth Memorial Art Center in Auburn NY.  It's up through  August 21.  I'll show you more work next week.

SDA show 2 -- second prize

Leslie Pearson, In Words Alone (detail below)

I think I liked this piece even better than the best in show, perhaps because the artist likes all the stuff I like.  From her artist statement:

"Be it handwritten letters, journals, old books, rusty metal, postage stamps, buttons, teeth, animal bones or bits of fabric -- my studio is filled with objects I've collected or unearthed.  I'm a scavenger for lost or forgotten things that have interesting textures, colors, and surfaces..."

This piece combines a body-like structure -- or maybe it's a tent or shelter --  made of gut stretched over a wire armature, with a snake of paper discs apparently cut from an old book.

I liked the contrast of the two materials, one dense and opaque, the other weightless and translucent.  I liked the casual curve of the endless tube, lifting up from the base and casting intriguing shadows.  Both sections were mysterious: the words of the book sequestered inside the tightly packed tube, the empty space inside the gut perhaps containing something ephemeral.

The show, "Transgressing Traditions," is co-sponsored by the Surface Design Association and the host Schweinfurth Memorial Art Center in Auburn NY.  It's up through  August 21.  Stay tuned for more work from the show!

SDA show 1 -- best in show

Had a great weekend attending the opening of the Surface Design Association juried show at the Schweinfurth Art Center in Auburn NY.  My piece "Unspooled" was not only in the show but got to be the postcard image, always a happy event.  There were lots of pieces in the show, and I am sorry to report that I was so busy listening to the juror and artists talk about the work, and of course to schmooze with people, that I didn't have time to properly look at every piece in the show.  So my report will be somewhat subjective.

First some remarks about the show theme, "Transgressing Tradition."  Some of the works were indeed nontraditional, using exotic materials or unfamiliar techniques.  But there was very little that was truly new (well, is there ever?) and every one of the exotic materials on display I've seen used in the past by other artists.  I do not say this as a criticism; in fact, I think sometimes show organizers bend too far over backwards to search out "new and different" when instead I wish they would be searching out "good."

I was more puzzled by the term "transgressing," which seems to have an overtone of naughtiness or outrageousness.  I didn't see much in the show that I would consider transgressive, but that's not a criticism either.  So never mind.  Just saying.

Here's the best in show:

Eszter Bornemisza, Next Page (details below)

It's a large piece, made from X-ray films held together in a stitched grid.  The top layer (the right-hand edge of which is folded forward and hangs free) shows a map of Budapest, Bornemisza's home town.  The bottom layer has a random array of letters, signs and symbols that you might find on a map,  There's a slight gap between the layers, hanging separately from the wall pegs, and the whole thing hangs an inch or so out from the wall so you get dramatic shadow effects.

You know I'm a sucker for grids, and for stitching across thin air to join pieces of stuff with space in between, so what's not to like about this piece?

I'll show you more from the exhibit in subsequent posts.

Q = A = Q 9 -- a trend toward abstraction?

Yesterday I wrote about representational imagery in the Q=A=Q show at the Schweinfurth Art Center in Auburn NY.  Shortly after the show opened I exchanged emails with Patty Kennedy-Zafred, who had a quilt in the show but had not been able to attend the reception.

She wrote me:  "It appears that a large portion of the pieces chosen were abstract, color/design study, a trend I'm seeing more and more.  Do you think that is just coincidence, a trend in the art quilt movement, jurors' preferences?"  She said she thinks the same was true of other recent major art quilt shows.

I don't know whether the preponderance of abstract works is really a trend, but it was true in Q=A=Q this year.  And as both a Q=A=Q juror and an interested observer of the art quilt scene, I think that's probably a good thing.

In my experience, the great majority of representational imagery to be found in quilts is decoration rather than art.  Flowers, birds, rose-covered cottages, snowscapes, mountain sunsets.  For the non-traditionalist, puppies, fish, kids playing (extra points if your own kids or grandkids or puppy).  For the very adventurous, render your puppy in purple instead of his natural brown and white!  Many of the quilts featuring such decorative images are very pleasant, but I have a hard time thinking they belong in a high-end show of quilts as art.

What makes it art, in my mind, is a concept, an intention, a message, something more than "it's pretty."  (And I'm not just describing quilts; there are plenty of paintings that stop at "it's pretty," and while you might enjoy them on your bedroom wall they probably don't deserve space in a museum.)

Also in my experience, most representational imagery in the quilt world tends toward the highly realistic end of the spectrum.  The more it looks like a photo, the more it's likely to be the viewers' choice.  Unfortunately, fabric isn't a medium particularly conducive to photorealism.  Sure, you can painstakingly render your photo in pixelated form, find fabrics of the appropriate value and hue, and   applique them for a startling resemblance to the original picture, but aside from the technical gee-whiz of the transformation, this process generally leaves me cold.  I'm usually not sure why the artist did it, or whether the resulting quilt is a step up or a step down, artistically,  from the original image.

Many quilt artists paint directly onto the cloth, then finish it by quilting and maybe elaborate thread painting.  I tend to like this kind of work, provided it isn't just sentimental flowers and mountain sunsets, although there's still the lingering question, if she wanted to paint this picture why did she render it as a quilt instead of on a stretched canvas.  Other artists accomplish painterly effects with fabric collage, a technique I love.  For some reason, I don't often wonder if she wanted to do a collage why did she render it as a quilt instead of as paper pasted on a support.

Patricia Kennedy-Zafred, Sand and Sea: The Children of the Canneries

Of course, if you want photorealism, you can simply print your photo onto the fabric.  Sometimes this works brilliantly, as in Patty's Q=A=Q piece shown above.  She has taken historic photos from the Library of Congress, reproduced them on fabric, overlaid them with text describing the subjects, and enhanced the photos with dye and ink.  The result is clearly her own work, incorporating comment and context, and not just a rendering of the original photo.

But too frequently quiltmakers stop after they print the photo onto the fabric.  I've seen too many photos just plopped into the middle of a quilt, perhaps with some handlettered identification.  I won't jury that kind of work into a museum show because it doesn't seem to have a purpose.

A Toronto curator was recently quoted in connection with the World of Threads exhibit as saying, "It is essential for artists working in fibre to push the boundaries.  Think long and hard about what the conventions and cliches are of your media and process.  Why does it have to be that way?  Do other people find what you are making meaningful?  Does it communicate to them?"

Too many representational quilts are "conventions and cliches," in my opinion, largely because of subject matter but also because of technique.  I guess a lot of abstract quilts are also cliches, but in general I think the quilt format is more friendly to abstraction than to representation.  That's probably because of the predominance of geometric and abstract blocks in traditional quilts, a heritage that is hard to escape.

What do you think?

Q = A = Q 8 -- representation

So far in my discussion of Q=A=Q at the Schweinfurth I have not showed you much in the way of representational imagery.  In fact, there was not much in the way of representational imagery in the show -- less than one-quarter of the works chosen.

Pamela Allen, Kissing in Public, 54 x 36"

I liked the style -- stylized without being cutesy -- and the palette, composition and craft were all up to speed.  A nice use of commercial fabrics, and elaborate quilting in the sky.

Margaret Abramshe, Synchronized in the Sea of Love, 49 x 40"

Mostly done by phototransfer, this quilt relies on three repeated motifs -- girls in bathing caps, swimming girls, and fish -- for a narrative with a bit of mystery.  Every now and then symmetrical is the way to go for tying disparate elements together, and this composition works well.

Daniela Arnoldi and Marco Sarzi-Sartori, Venice Lagoon,   (detail below)

This cityscape is made from fabrics and trims of many different materials, densely layered on to create painterly texture and depth. In the photo it may look a bit heavy-handed, but in person it's stunning.  

Shawn Quinlan, The New American Heritage, 63 x 51"  (detail below)

Shawn must have the world's greatest collection of novelty prints, which he deploys in his never-ending series of quilts making snarky comments on politics and culture.  Here he cut up a vintage wall hanging and tea towels as well as other fabrics for images of Washington, Lincoln, Uncle Sam and other American icons.

Paula Kovarik, Memory's Playground, 27 x 55"  (detail below)

And finally, here's a masterpiece of drawing, an extended stream-of-consciousness doodle in free-motion machine stitching on a vintage tablecloth.  I don't know what the elephant has to do with the starfish or the hippo or the fork or the genie's lamp, but I love the way the line covers the whole surface, punctuated by areas of dense pastel filling stitches.  As a finishing touch, the long threads between little star points are allowed to float over the top of the drawing.