pressure and pleasure

I recently finished my first ever commissioned quilt. When I first started making quilts I couldn't imagine wanting to make commissioned pieces. I was too drunk with all the possibilities swirling within my own head. The idea of collaborating with another person felt like an unhappy compromise. Too close to what I did for a living every day, maybe.

Sewing started out in some ways as a reaction to spending 10 hours a day in front of a computer screen. After punching out at work, the last thing I wanted to do at home was to sit back down in front of a Mac. I've never "designed" a quilt on a computer. I've thought about it - done a couple "sketches" in Illustrator, but ultimately, that process (then and now, at least for the time being, never say never) just doesn't appeal. Process is paramount for me. No, actually pleasure is paramount for me. If I were to design a quilt on a computer, I would then feel compelled to execute that design as flawlessly as possible. There would be no room for improvisation or happy accidents or whimsy. It would feel like a lot of pressure. I don't like feeling pressure. It is in no way stimulating to me. It is the opposite of fun, and fun is the only reason for me to make quilts, dig?

Cut to early February, three months into my current sabbatical (layoff), and my friend Charlotte asks: are your quilts available for common folk to purchase or are they strictly museum acquisition pricing levels? Pffft, I replied, they are totally available in whatever budget you got, sister!

I sent her jpgs of all my available finished quilts, but none was really the right size/color. She was looking for a birthday gift for her partner, Roz, something that would work in their bedroom on a Queen-sized bed. I told her the best thing possible would be for me to make something specifically for them. I've known Charlotte and Roz for a few years now, been to their home on several occasions, but never seen their bedroom. Charlotte asked us over for dinner and afterwards we all tromped to the second floor of their beautiful brownstone to survey their bedroom and talk logistics.

I think they were a little nervous. I was a little nervous. But also really excited. I took some phone snaps of their walls and artwork, their rugs, the chair next to the fireplace. I asked them some questions. I tried to weigh how much they were committed to the reds in their bedroom, how much importance to give the William Morris pattern on the armchair. Roz said she like asymmetry. I started thinking about what I could make that night in bed while I fell asleep.

In a few days time, I sent Charlotte a short design rationale to get her feedback:

She gave it the thumbs up so it was all systems go. It didn't take that long, actually, and had I not come down with the worst flu on earth in the middle of it, it would have been done in under 5 weeks as I had proposed. Still, I delivered it to her 2 days before Roz's birthday so it was all good. I even had time to photograph it on our bed before delivery.

I have to say, I was really pleased with how it came out (this is rare for me). Though Roz and Charlotte were possibly ideal clients, I would love to do this again. It was a fun sort of problem-solving - like the best design assignments.

Not a sponsored post. Unless you count the open bar.

After my trip last year to France and Spain (a birthday gift from my squid mother), I made a small Blurb book of the snapshots I took to give her as a thank you. I made a copy for myself, too. I decided it would be just images - no text. Writing exactly the right thing seemed like too much pressure and I wanted the process of making the book to be as enjoyable as the trip had been. Blurb has templates for non-designers to use, as well as a new software program called Bookwright which evidently provides the tools to help non-designers make custom layouts. I used the InDesign to pdf option. When the printed books arrived in the post, it was really very exciting to have a printed and bound actual thing to hold in my hands that contained all these great memories/experiences. I presented Linda with her copy this past Mother's Day while we were back in Ibiza. I told her I had had to leave out a lot of images to keep it to under 75 pages. She suggested I do a second volume and well, that's just what I did (delivery due sometime this next week).

first book.

ibiza.

montmirail.

paris.

Blurb has had a couple promotional events here in the city the last couple weeks. There was one in Chelsea a couple weeks ago that I went to because a book artist I admire was giving a talk. Brian Dettmer does these crazy things to books - slicing them up and cutting through them to reveal the interiors. They are insanely precise and kind of mind-blowing. These images are from his flickr page: flickr.com/photos/briandettmer

Brian Dettmer

Brian Dettmer

Blurb was hosting the event (with 3 other speakers) (plus open bar!) to promote an international contest they were having called "Unbinding the Book." They were looking for people to really push the boundaries of what a book could be and the winning entries (12 in total) would receive some dough and an exhibition opportunity. It was an interesting event held in a pretty incredible space. Lots of folks made use of the terrace and the skyline to take selfies. In fact the person presenting the speakers made a joke about it, asking everybody to come back inside so they could start the lectures.

Brian Dettmer speaking.

view from terrace.

night falls in nyc.

so pretty.

So this week there was another blurb party at the Refinery Hotel roof bar celebrating this new BookWright thing as well as the fact that you could now add an ISBN number to the books you make through Blurb and sell them on Amazon. Which is pretty cool, in truth, particularly if you are a self-publishing author. Anyway, glamorous location and yep, open bar? I'm there.

refinery hotel.

catching up

Likely of interest to myself only, but in an effort to track the days as they fly past, some notable bits from the last several weeks.

Whitney Biennial. The show everybody loves to hate. I didn't have to pay admission or I probably wouldn't have gone. That said, it was interesting to compare it to the 2012 show. I went in 2012 to see the work of some college classmates, and because I was in NYC, and because I didn't have to pay admission that time, either. In recalling it, what comes to mind is a general feeling of fatigue. It felt so thin, and grey, and undernourished, all the artwork. What I remember most vividly is a picture I snapped on my way in of a woman in sneakers and a wonderfully vibrant coat.

yep. that's the one.

So 2014. I'd read a few reviews and again, "knew" people who had work in the exhibition. In this case a couple artists I was at Skowhegan with back in the day. I also figured it would be worth checking out as it would be the last time the Biennial would be held in Marcel Breuer building before the whole museum decamped to the Meatpacking District. This year felt more than a bit like an MFA exhibition. Too crowded, too disjointed, too...just trying too damn hard. Though the building didn't help matters. Disengaging from the art and looking critically at the galleries revealed some pretty worn-out parquet floors, inadequate lighting, and an oppressive cement acoustic-style ceiling. I've grown to dislike galleries without any natural light sources.

painting by Laura Owens.

can't remember the artist, but kind of like this twinkie painting.

security guy checking me out.

Rebecca Morris.

liked this thing - not surprising, I suppose, since it looks a bit like a quilt?

Alexander McQueen sleeve on the left, feather starfish on the right.

Nothing really to say right now, except, wow, how gorgeous is the world sometimes?

American Folk Art Museum

I went walking around the Upper West Side yesterday and stopped into the American Folk Art Museum. I hadn't visited for some time - the last time I did they were still located next to the Museum of Modern Art on West 53rd. The fate of that building still seems in flux - but it looks likely that the facade will remain while the interior is gutted. Which is a pity, really, because it was a pretty cool little spot. Not a great place to see or exhibit art, it's true, but still.

Anyway, the new location isn't great either. I did a quick tour of the ground floor before realizing that there were no other floors. The ground floor was the only floor. I wonder how big their storage facility must be because there can't be more than a fraction of their collection on display. Which sucks. But enough complaining, because the exhibit up right now is pretty great. It's titled "Folk Couture: Fashion and Folk Art." They asked 13 fashion designers to create a garment inspired by a piece in the museum's collection. I saw a review somewhere online with an image of a Gary Graham ensemble accompanying it and my curiosity was piqued.

Gary Graham

Gary Graham

Gary Graham

As it happens, the Graham outfit was amazing - he used a jacquard weave fabric inspired by a 19th century coverlet. It was really, really gorgeous with extraordinary detail. I loved the woven leggings that stretched down over the booties and the fact that the jacket's "hem" was raw - it had a few stray strings hanging off it.

Another great piece was a dress made of paper, designed by Yeohlee Teng. Inspired by 4 kinda awesomely weird little animal sculptures, she photographed them and then printed them on craft paper. I loved the combination of sepia and blueish-black and the fragility of the leaf like layers.

Yeohlee Teng

LOVE this guy

these guys are pretty cool, too

Yeohlee Teng

Another favorite was by Koos van den Akker, who seems like somebody I'd like to hang out with, judging from his profile on the AFAM's website (which has an awesome tumblr blog about the exhibition linked to on their website - worth checking out - I put the link at the bottom of this post). One of his inspirations was this early 19th century portrait of a woman who looks to be having a not great day:

image from tumblr

This was his dress:

Koos van den Akker

The fabric wall hanging to the right of the dress was another of his chosen inspiration pieces and it was pretty great, too:

Kumiko Sudo

Turns out old Koos is behind those awful sweaters Bill Cosby wore back in the day. I'm not going to hold that against him, though. It was a gorgeous dress. It had a bustle (!). Here is a quote of his I liked: “I’m a craftsman. I’m a seamstress. I really sit in front of my sewing machine every day from six in the morning until four o’clock in the afternoon and I make clothes.”

This dress was by a duo called Creatures of the Wind. The inspiration was a photo by Eugene Von Bruenchenhein of his wife. What's interesting is that they lifted the pattern of the backdrop drape for their dress. Not completely - just a fragment - the palm leaves. The colors of the dress reference the warm tone of the silver gelatin photo, which is also a nice tie-in.

Creatures of the Wind

 

Eugene Von Bruenchenhein

Catherine Malandrino (on the left) and Fabio Costa - love that thing with the wooden spikes

Fabio Costa

Catherine Malandrino inspiration piece

I loved the wooden piece that hung behind Fabio Costa's dress. Not crazy about his dress, though. Looked like a bulky doily to me. This one by Jean Yu made me laugh:

Jean Yu

Jean Yu

It's up until April 23. If you are in NYC it's well worth a visit.
fashionandfolkart.tumblr.com/exhibition

girls

Man! There is a lot of hateration for Lena Dunham out there in the world. It's interesting the amount of vitriol she can provoke. I am a little baffled as to why, in truth. I'm guessing that beyond the NYC area, most of America is indifferent to her and her show, Girls. I'm guessing most of the country doesn't check in with Gothamist daily. Probably not? But here in NYC, she definitely occupies a not small amount of brain-space for a particular segment of the population.

In the months preceding the start of Girls, there was a pretty aggressive ad blitz in NYC. Posters in train stations, on buses, at bus stops, billboards, ads on NYCcentric websites like Gawker and New York mag, etc. I remember being sort of aware of the buzz when it started because I had seen and enjoyed her film, Tiny Furniture. Which I was aware of only because I was familiar with her mother's work. Which anyone studying photography in the eighties/nineties would be, because she was part of the big deal Cindy Sherman Metro pictures scene.

Anyway.

I didn't have a huge interest in watching the show. For one thing, we didn't/don't have HBO. For another, I hardly thought I was the demographic the show was aimed at. Lena Dunham was born in 1986, my sophomore year in college. The buzz was that the show was like Sex and the City for Millennials, and I had hated SATC. So I figured, not for me.

But then there was so much freaking talk about it - and the conversations/articles circled around stuff close to my heart, like feminism and personal agency and body acceptance and trying to make art and also make a living, and so on. So, when it became available online I watched. And it hardly seemed like revolutionary stuff. Not exactly reinventing television, or feminism, or anything, really. But it was interesting to me. And funny. And I was surprised to find myself, if not identifying directly, then certainly being able to recall a time in my life that looked and felt a lot like what she was putting on the screen. It felt very. . . familiar.

During the time I was in art school and grad school - 1984 thru 1994 - I seemed to always have some friend going through a performance art thing. And for a girl/female, performance art always seemed to entail nudity in some form. In graduate school, where I studied photography, more than half the grads were doing nude self-portraits. Which is to say, people being naked was just a standing feature of my young adult experience. Additionally, I always had one or two friends who tended to drop their clothes at the drop of a hat, so to speak. Doesn't everybody have that one Naked Friend? The one who wakes up and answers the door half-asleep but fully undressed? Who spontaneously pulls off her shirt on a hot and sweaty dance floor? I definitely did. Which is just to say that Dunham's character's nudity on the show seems all of a piece to me. And I do find it pretty awesome to see a female body onscreen that looks a hell of a lot like the bodies I'm familiar with, including my own.

Additionally, the criticism about the narcissism of the characters seems absurd to me. Of course they're self-obsessed. They're 24 years old. And, yes, they are sort of awful, but people sorting out their shit at that age are often kind of awful. I'm pretty sure I was. I think I can add that everyone I knew at that age was as well. We were all competitive with each other - for admiration, for a professor's attention, for lovers, for opportunities - while also being fiercely loving and supportive of one another. I can remember feeling such intense pressure - to sort it out, to make a plan, to achieve, to not make any missteps, to calculate every decision with an eye towards the future. It was a time of so much fear. There was a line from a poem I had memorized in high school that would constantly recur to me during those years which really encapsulated that fear:

"...that no one, in the end, would grant them time to prosper or endure."

It's part of a poem by Jay Parini titled "After the Summer Lovers" or at least I think so, I can't find it online. At any rate, I remember it because it articulated the strange sense of panic that time held. So many decisions to make and the feeling that the clock was ticking. The irony being, of course, that at that age one's life was just beginning to unfold. I wish someone would have told me to take a deep breath and relax already. That I could trust myself and the world, that everything would unfurl in due course.

UFOs

I think I have quite a few unfinished quilts. Unfinished in the sense that they are just the tops (albeit tops that are finished). I say I think I have quite a few because I haven't really counted them for a while. I know I have at least 2 that could be sent to the long-arm ladies today - I have the backs made and the stitching and thread selected and the order forms filled out. They are still sitting in my closet, not sent, for a couple of reasons, one of them being financial. I am reluctant to spend the money to have them finished since I am between paying gigs right now.

The other reason is that I don't have any specific plans for them, and therefore nothing particularly compelling me to finish them up. Additionally, although I find it very satisfying to complete a quilt (I actually enjoy hand-stitching the binding), the part I like best is making the top. I have a sort of ridiculously big stash of fabric so it's not any extra expense to just keep sewing so right now I am content to just keep cranking out tops. Since finishing my first 10 or so quilts, it has become more about process for me anyway, the enjoyment of working out certain ideas on my design wall.

My background is in the fine arts. I painted for years. I still sort of think of myself as a painter, even though I haven't picked up a brush for over 5 years. The way I approach quilt-making is not so different from how I used to paint. You try a little of this, you try a little of that, you stand back and evaluate it, add a little red here, pull a little yellow out over there, maybe turn the whole thing upside down and see how that looks. I know many quilters have backgrounds in the arts, so I suspect that my experience is hardy unique.

When I was still painting regularly, people would sometimes ask what I was going to do with them (the paintings) when I was done. Which is a reasonable enough question, I guess, but I still found it a little annoying. Like, if I didn't already have a gallery or a buyer lined up for them I was wasting my time. Maybe I was a little over-sensitive in that area (probably because I didn't, in fact, have either). But it was never about what might happen when they were finished - it was about making them for myself, first. Working out whatever idea I had in my head that I needed to make actual. I make quilts the same way, mostly. I've made specific quilts to give to specific people, but that's always a little hard. A lot of guessing at what might please them. I think that's why I've stalled on my quilt for Lily - in my mind I am trying to work out how to make a quilt I think her mom would approve of, that I would find interesting to make, and that she will want to hang onto after she's grown. That's a lot for my pea brain to juggle.