What a powerful source of memory, of honoring those who we have lost to AIDS.

As I have written about a few times already , I have been exploring the many squares on the AIDS Memorial Quilt, and have been remembering especially two men who were important to my Mom, to our community, and to my perception and experience with the death tolls from AIDS. Almost as soon as I learned, via their website, that the Quilt is stored and the foundation headquartered here in Atlanta, I called, left a message, and asked to visit–especially to see the two squares I had been pouring over, Craig’s and Parnell’s.

Photos on Craig's quilt square, of Parnell Peterson (left) and Craig Koller, from Parnell's family

Richie, a veteran of the NAMES Project Foundation, called me back after the MLK holiday weekend, and I planned a visit for today. This morning I spent some time crying, touching the quilt, reading the many lovely words, poems, thoughts contributed to each of their squares, and learned more about these two men via the wonderful memorial that this Quilt provides. It provides a way to remember, in a very communal and large-scale way, yet allowing for quite private and personal time with those who are being remembered. Richie pulled up the information on these two squares, 2744 (Parnell’s) and 5508 (Craig’s), so I could see where they had traveled, where they had been requested, and where and when they were each on display.

I learned that the demographic who has been contributing the most new squares–they receive on average about 400 new squares each year–are nieces. Girls my age, who have memories, however clear or unclear, of their uncles who died while we were young, and who have now reached the age in which remembering them properly has been an important part of grieving, or becoming an adult, of understanding how this illness has devastated families. I am exactly that generation, that demographic, though I have to consider myself an honorary niece only.

I made a donation in honor of my parents, who have been caring, compassionate examples for my brothers and me, and in honor of Craig and Parnell, obviously, and for each of their families. The wonderful (small) staff gave me a book of some quilt squares, and a calendar I have already poured over several times. I felt so welcomed, and depending on how much longer I am in Atlanta, I want to help quilt squares together as they need me. Seeing a modest and hard-working organization and staff like that also reminds me that I am in the right field; non-profits, working to educate and engage the public, and ensuring that life has been well-spent by taking care of the issues that matter most.

Take a moment to drink in how enormous each panel of this quilt is. Each square is intentionally 3 feet by 6 feet, about the size of a human grave. I was not prepared for the commanding presence, and for how much more meaningful seeing each component up-close truly is.

That's me next to Craig's square

The portion my family contributed to Craig's square, which is on the bottom, in the very middle

Parnell McKenna Peterson's square (double-sized, like Craig's). The entire bottom is littered with lovely messages to him.

I especially enjoyed seeing all of the contributions made by people who loved each of them. Their lives and memories matter to many.

My mom, Craig, and some other of their high school friends here, also part of Craig's square. Craig is on the bottom left.

Parnell

Craig

Craig, in the center of his beautiful square. (Hazard of storing thousands of quilt squares, creases.)

The modest headquarters of the largest piece of community folk art in the world. The Quilt weighs 54 tons. They're all stored here.

Take-home goodies: book, calendar. There are very generous, wonderful people taking care of this quilt.

Find a full-time job. A real one, with a salary, in an urban area, and most importantly, in my field.

Graduate with my Master’s in Heritage Preservation (on track for May).

Requisite fitness goal: will exercise on a more regular basis, and cross train rather than just get on a cardio machine and wait out forty minutes.

Continue to foster and build my quilting skills, and maintain my creative time with fabric.

Finish my 365 project, I AM 365, on July 31, 2012. I’m five months’ in now.

Pay off my other credit card, finally, once and for all, be finished with consumer debt. Hope, hope, hopefully.

Save money. At least, spend less. (Getting more cliche as I go, right?)

Move. This is apparently on my list every year. I’ve moved in 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, 2011. And I will be again in 2012. This year though, I have no idea where. Wherever they hire me. Fortunately my field tends to revolve around urban areas.

Long-arm quilt, for myself, the Single Girl quilt that I began the day after my 24th birthday last year. I decided I’m going to finish it by my 25th birthday, fitting. It’s my first real quilt for myself, a gift to my twenty-five years.

Pray; support causes I believe in; and give when I can, what I can. [Biggies: My parents' mission with Greater Europe Missions, LiNK (Liberty in North Korea), public radio and WABE]

Not freak out when I think of all the factors that can change the plans I’ve outlined. I’m kind of at a crossroads here, finally finishing school for good, seeking a real and meaningful job, in a relationship that has last nearly four years, trying to find where I will fit into this world in 2012.

This pattern had been on my Amazon wish list forever, silently intimidating me with the giant-scale circles and all those tiny pieces. See, I’ve made several quilts, but they’ve been deceptive to outsiders, because every time I’ve made up my own pattern and motif, going off things I’ve seen and loved, but essentially, designing each myself. Following patterns is actually hard, and I wanted to force myself to stick to a method, follow directions, and patiently cut out all the pieces ahead of time, per the instructions, so that by the time you hate the giant queen-size you’ve set out to make and cut all those hundreds of pieces, you actually get down to the sewing, and time flies by, and then you have a massive, beautiful quilt top ready to be layered with batting and backing and grace your bed.

My goal for 2012 is to take this baby somewhere and learn to use a long-arm quilter myself, taking the required course and then using the circular quilting pattern that comes with Schmidt’s design for Single Girl. I started this quilt on the day after my 24th birthday, September 25, and so I want to finish the quilting by my birthday this year, my 25th birthday. I’ve made four quilts, this is my fifth one, and three of the first four have been gifts. The only one I’ve kept, a throw-size in all fabrics I loved, is wonderfully experimental, including my first raggedy machine-quilting stitches on my own machine. It’s a lovely token of early quilting technique, filled with trial and error (read: mistakes). I love it for that, but I am excited to tackle this quilt, a giant one that is made for my bed, and make it a beautiful work of art, showing how I’ve grown in my skill since I began quilting in 2008.

I can’t make it to my final quilt class today, because I’m handicapped from recent foot surgery, but I needed to post some pictures for the other ladies in my class, as well as our teacher, Diana. I hope you guys can post some for me to see, I’m really sad I will be missing seeing the final products! Please post them here, or e-mail them to me, or put them on Pinterest–something!

One circle, four quarters together

Graphic

In a bunch

Detail

Circle love

Happy with the two-tone scheme I chose for this quilt. All reds and creamy whites.

Across my bed, all sixteen circles, each turning a little differently

Friday

Completed Christmas-themed exhibit case we composed at the Archives, using 1950s photographs of Christmas decorations (TVA-documented) and old newspaper clippings, photos, and WWI draft cards featuring the names of reindeer (Blitzen, Rudolph, etc.) and other holiday-themed names (Chris Kringle, Santy Claus, Partridge and Peartree).

Single Girl quilt: Home from work, I needed to see four of my sixteen squares sewn together.

Ormsby's for friends catch-up, drinks, and beet salad (yum).

Saturday

Root House visit, Saturday morning, to see Katie and smell the delicious smells of an 1850s Marietta kitchen. They were all in dress for the Marietta pilgrimage tour of homes.

Then, to the High Museum to see the Picasso to Warhol modern art exhibit (we got a deal on tickets). Ben ponders some other art. He approves.

Saturday, 2 p.m. Ben is angry at this, the piece of art he hates most: the white canvas painted white, on a white wall. Ben is very angry!

Pablo Picasso, Girl before a Mirror, 1932. All the paintings in the exhibition are owned by the Museum of Modern Art. Pretty impressive, as I would expect.

We "make" art, by adding fingers pointing to circles. Pablo Picasso.

Henri Matisse, Woman with a Veil. It was one of my very favorites of the day.

Henri Matisse, another favorite. The colors!

A Jackson Pollock classic! This is another that Ben is skeptical about, but I was just excited to be seeing a real Pollock. It was interesting to see some of his work before this famous "drip" phase of his work, of which they also had several.

I loved the work of Romare Bearden, who does a lot with mixed media and collage. I'm really drawn to pieces like this. Google his stuff!

Another Romare Bearden, using a very old and battered patchwork quilt against a woman who's made to reflect the ancient artistic body form that we know as Egyptian.

Jasper Johns, a Georgia-born modern artist, works in familiar images and print-making to make you think about things that are everyday in more conscious ways. Loved the numbers.

The Real Andy Warhol Version Of This Super Famous and Much Reused Image. So cool to see the image the started this iconic pattern. Then again, Warhol would ponder how much of him as the artist is really in these, "the originals," anyway. ;)

The Soup Cans. All along a whole wall dozens of times, so emblematic of all that is Warhol's pondering of the reprint.

And again

And again. Am I Warhol yet?

Pretty tree in midtown

Coffee break at Octane

Snowy winter cupcakes (with advent-gift decorations), episodes of Parks & Rec, and one-person sewing bee to round out Saturday night.

Sunday

The binding goes on Ben's Christmas present, so near to the end now.

New undies and popcorn for advent! There is nothing better than new underwear for Christmas, really.

Some of Ben's awesome advent gifts from my mom, including a half-zip sweater and requisite fun Star Wars items.

Paul's advent, Upper Peninsula Michigan playing cards, with photos of Yooper things. The Iron Mountain ski lift where we used to live, there.

Avery helps Ben cook Cheater's Chili, our all-day-stewing best-chili-ever recipe.

We document the damage of earlier burns to my hands, from the hot oil when browning the meat for chili. See the bulbous blisters?!

Homework and another advent, a yummy candle. Organizing the many documents that compose our Atlanta History exhibit for the Atlanta airport, making sure we have everything we need to print this hundreds-of-pages document on Monday. And Ben helped too.

Then, finally, Dexter on Showtime at 9, one of the best reasons to start a new week. Season 6 is so, so good. I forgot to take a picture because the episode was so good.

Happy week, everyone!

Sources of vast inspiration

Sometimes, work and play intersect, overlap, combine. For this week’s material culture class, we read four selections, chapters and articles, on design and aesthetic. One of the pieces was a chapter from John M. Vlach’s book The Afro-American Tradition in Decorative Arts, and the particular chapter was on African American historical quilting motifs.

Just a few days earlier, I had read a fantastic article from the Wall Street Journal on Denyse Schmidt–easily my favorite designer involved in quilts and modern textiles on this earth. In it, she describes her style as “neo-hillbilly,” which is a remarkably apt term, and one that I thought really got to the heart of her improvisational, old-timey, non-conformist, simple designs and motifs. Nearly every time I browse her quilts and patterns, I find something else that inspires me. Sometimes I want to copy her, other times I want to use a technique or a kind of aesthetic she’s used to head off in my own direction. I find her entire perspective on quilting fascinating and stimulating.

Men's weave textile, Ghana; image from Vlach's book

He goes into great detail about West African applique techniques, patterns, and purpose, but the revelatory part came after, with his description and illustration of the strip quilt.

Denyse Schmidt, in that article, had been talking about the value of state quilt documentation projects for her own inspiration; those are initiatives that were taken up in the 1980s and ’90s in nearly every state, urging people to bring in any quilt they knew of, old and ratty, any condition, to document each one and what the owners knew about them at that time, so that their histories could be collected and kept, as an important part of American traditional culture, and as a true collection of Americana art.

My favorite strip quilt from Vlach's selected examples

I had begun researching these documentation projects, and found the largest compendium of the projects in one place: The Quilt Index. (Browse at your own risk! It may consume your day.) There are also numerous books, by state, on their quilt documentations, including the processes, some of the most significant quilts, and if you’re lucky, directions for some of them.

Everything was colliding at once: quilt documentation projects as a source of “hill-billy” and traditional inspiration, from days when making your quilt meant using scraps, old clothing, and feed sacks–sometimes from textiles you have woven yourself–and accurate design came second to having a warm blanket to sleep under; Denyse Schmidt’s minimal take on quilting and what constitutes artistic design; and Vlach’s chapter on both of these concepts placed right smack dab in their historical place.

All the sudden, I turn to a page and see an “improvisational log cabin motif,” identical the one on the quilt I am currently making. Next to it, for comparison, was the precise, mathematical European log cabin form. Here was one of the core bases for my personal inspiration: southern quilting, and African American design aesthetic. As Vlach points out, this approach greatly resembles an improvisational approach to music that creates jazz, in that you must have a mastery of the form of the craft before you can begin to improvise. And African American women who lived in slavery were creating a counterculture exactly their own when they quilted, preserving a cultural memory within the larger colonial and early American traditions surrounding them.

My improvisational Log Cabin quilt, inspired originally for me by Denyse Schmidt

The photos of quilts accompanying Vlach’s text were each more fabulous and inspiring and random and thoughtful as the next. (Sadly, I checked out the book from the school library and was sad to find that the book itself is in black and white, meaning I cannot see the pieces in color.) The strip motif derives from the African tradition of men’s textile weaving, in which long pieces are woven on a loom and then cut into strips of the right length to be sewn together to form a blanket. For the first time in my life, I felt an itch to learn to use a loom, to make some of this stuff myself and build up a long, winding bundle that I could cut up and stitch into one quilt front.

Some were so simple they were stunningly curved and mix-matched and all too easy to start planning. Others were more composed, but still with that off-kilter charm, the very thing I was finding I wanted in my quilts, and the very thing that Denyse Schmidt makes sure is in each of hers. Not surprisingly, when I found myself in one of my favorite quilt stores a few days later, I ended up leaving with a quilt’s worth of fabrics in a palette that I am calling “menswear + African.”

By the way, I am already working on two other quilts right now. So yes, this makes three. And I have two jobs and go to grad school full time. What?

But that’s why I have Be The Ink, to compile and share my ideas when I can’t execute them anywhere else, for the time being.

My working menswear + African palette -- for my next project

Stove Eye quilt, from the book Great Lakes, Great Quilts, part of Michigan's quilt documentation effort

Kaffe Fassett meets African American tradition: these are the exact same pattern, also a stand-out piece

This book is a treasure trove of everyday patterns inspiring quilt motifs (Kaffe Fassett)

Flying Geese have been calling me name everywhere. I am going to make a quilt front using this motif. This was the ceiling pattern at Japan Fest, and from my angle, Flying Geese!

]]> http://betheink.com/2011/09/to-be-off-balance-but-still-under-control/feed/ 0 http://betheink.com/2011/09/art-was-not-separate-from-everyday-experience/ http://betheink.com/2011/09/art-was-not-separate-from-everyday-experience/#comments Sun, 04 Sep 2011 00:35:14 +0000 Jcedens http://betheink.com/?p=1443

I went to the Atlanta History Center for the sole purpose of visiting their many exhibits–for the first time in my life. This is really sad, considering I have a degree in history, I’m earning a master’s student studying museums, and I’ve lived in Atlanta for more than five years. In my defense, I’ve been there once to see one specific exhibit, and we also got a tour of the innards of the place, including their giant holdings areas down below where they keep the collection pieces that are not on display in exhibits. I have also been to their Kenan Research Center on several occasions for research purposes. But this was my first time going to meander my way through their permanent and temporary exhibitions.

Folk art meets daily life necessity: rice hulling mortar and pestels, circa 1800s (used into the 1900s). This is the most enormous mortar and pestel I've ever seen.

I knew I needed to pick one to highlight for yet another assigned exhibit review for a class (this makes about the fifth review I’ve done), but I didn’t really go in thinking of any one in particular–especially not, for some reason, the folk art exhibit, which I’d heard one or a few classmates discuss before but never given much thought. But this semester, I’m taking a class on Material Culture, on the things we adorn with a human touch, and make with a purpose, be it necessity, pleasure, tool, comfort or any other reason we have to create something. In the wake of this summer’s interior design class, I already feel that I am more aware of the conscious designs and historical components surrounding aesthetic, style, and the use of the things around us.

The first two weeks of class already have me thinking even harder about the things we design, make, buy, use, sell, throw away, repurpose. It was truly serendipitous that after a few other galleries, I wandered over to the Shaping Traditions: Folk Art in a Changing South gallery while deciding where next to spend my time. I had been planning to review a different exhibit, for a different class than Material Culture, but here it was in front of me, and there on the introductory panel was John Burrison, a professor at my school and friend of many of my professors, in a photograph with some of the pieces in the collection. I had a memory flashback and realized that I remembered learning that most of this collection–thousands of items–was his–he had been collecting southern folk art since the 1970s, and turned his collection and his lifetime of knowledge on folklife into an exhibit–a stunning and approachable work in itself.

From this leftover bit of mussel shell, you can see how they made buttons out of them. Incredible!

There on the same panel was a name that suddenly meant a lot to me: Henry Glassie. I had only just finished reading one of his books for my class, his 1968 classic within the folklife field, Pattern in the Material Folk Culture of the Eastern United States. I got really excited, and from there, it was several hours later before I noticed how much time I had been spending at each panel, examining each piece of folk craft, studying the selection of photos that accompanied throughout.

My favorite part, obviously really, was the section devoted entirely to southern textiles, quilts, motifs, and influential styles. The designers came up with a truly ingenious method to display and preserve the six quilts within the exhibit: each one rolled out on its own giant display board, once prompted by a visitor who pushes a button–which sits below a description of the type, material, quilter, and estimated year of creation. I must have pushed those buttons more than a dozen times, engrossed in their pattern and fabric choices, old as they were. Each was so beautiful, and they combined to tell a distinctly diverse story of the variety of quilting styles and influences that play into southern quilting.

The clever system within the exhibit that only exposes the quilts to light when visitors choose to roll them out--it's also fun to use!

The textile section had an essential "touch me" section, for those of us who were dying to feel the quilts and had to contain ourselves.

"Barn Rising" variation of a Log Cabin quilt, early 1900s

"Eight Point Star" variation with strips, by Estella Daniel, Emerson County, Georgia, 1930s

"Whig's Defeat," by Susan Loyd, Rome, Georgia, 1856

"Brick Work" and strip pattern, Annie Howard, Madison, Georgia, 1957

(Read on for a bit more about the themes of the exhibit; it’s worth a few minutes!)

The exhibit was consciously created to revolve around its stunning artifacts, to tell the larger story of the relationship between folk craft and folk art in past and present southern life. The overarching thesis the exhibit aims to impress upon visitors is that there has been both continuity and change in southern folk art, and that the relationship within it—southerners and their handmade products—is an important component in the history of the South.

Craftsmen-made ladderback chairs

The exhibit has an incredible collection of folk furniture, with all the requisite textiles, potter-made earthenware, and other pieces that defined home life in preindustrial Georgia.

Modern-day artists and immigrant groups who have added their cultural traditions to the South in the last half century are featured near the end of the exhibit space, proving that folk art in the region, while no longer necessary for our work or daily life essentials, is still an important part of our cultural lives; we are surrounded by the artistry and traditional techniques of those who continue to practice and pass on our folk arts. Shaping Traditions tells this story through the objects that define the subject.

Go see it.

Ben stopped by to say hi to my camera

Ben's note in the guest book. Haha. True statement.

This is what pure giddiness looks like.

Also: Nose-picking in the Metropolitan Frontiers exhibit

Material culture historian Henry Glassie reflects on the value of the world as an inspiration for art, and how artistry, at its core, comes from age-old trades. He takes us through the lifespan of a traditionally-made Turkish rug to illustrate this, and brings us back around to the very fact that he is writing about it, to ensure we understand that all manner of artistry, big and small, is a product of the creative soul of humankind.

The chapter I read today was a joyous revelation, a celebration, of the material as historical, as everything we can and hope to be, in what we create on this earth, with our hands, our patience, our inspiration, our minds.

My current quilt project, which has been such a creative thrill thus far.

We used poster board taped toegther to create the homemade pattern, giving each square its essential, unique shape.

The piecing was done to refect the original look, but I took each little design in my own direction. This is the quilt body at five rows, around the start of July.

For color scheme, I wanted to keep the palette close to the pastel and pale dominating colors that bound the original quilt, because that base is what makes all the bold squares really pop. Right as the fall semester was starting, I finished the eighth and final row on the quilt front (nine would have made it disproportionately long, so I opted to stop at eight). A few weeks later, I bought the backing fabric, a funky Amy Butler design I found at my local Red Hen Fabrics. My mom taught me a mitered corner, and I successfully created a bold black frame around my quilt front. It was ready to be quilted.

I learned mitered corners while applying the black edging fabric that would frame the quilt face.

She called me with the good news about three weeks ahead of my estimated completion date, which meant that after everything, I was going to finish the job in time for Christmas. All that was left was the binding, which I again learned from my mother. I used a nice stone-colored fabric for the binding, and hand-stitched the entire back side as I learned this final step.

The finished quilt face, at the start of September.

The entire quilt was a learning process. Every little technique was taken into this larger project as an essential and important skill, one that must be accurate and provide the professional touch that learned quilters look for. Learning from my mother, there was no way I could do things in an amateur way, which is why piecing each square was just as important as reverse applique, and little things like seam allowances had to be accurate. Those skills translate into many other areas of sewing and design, and knowing how things are made when I see them only makes me want to start all over again with a new design. But I’m not quite so crazy; I’ll give it a few months at least. I have mastered the mitered corner (OK, I’ve only somewhat grasped it) and learned some tips and tricks on making a professional-looking doubled-over binding. Along the way, I also bought my own sewing machine (having grown up using my mom’s trusty Viking) and have definitely mastered threading and cleaning that thing.

The quilt comes alive with the quilting lines, which I had done professionally in order to maintain the technical mastery I had tried to keep with my quilting.

Look closely to see the geometric quilting pattern running through the entire body. The reverse-side fabric is an Amy Butler design. That is also some of my hand work on the appliqued binding.

Close-up of the corner I used to make the binding look lovely.

Most importantly, it is Avery-approved, so it's a cuddly spot for Ben's cats too. She spent a lot of time snoozing in my quilt basket too, getting hair on the fabrics that would grow into this quilt.

Ashley and I have found a place to live. This is relieving and exciting; the downside is that now I must wait two more months until I can mount this huge item on the “to do” list. I am itching to start packing boxes. At the same time, I’m not quite ready to enter that phase of interminable chaos yet. Once I start, it will be messy and unorganized, and I like that even less. So, it remains on the list.

Got a new phone! My sleek, shiny, skinny new Nokia Intrigue is like a new friend that I like immediately.

Reading now: Who Owns History, but Eric Foner, for my Themes in History class. The whole subject of the book is interesting to me, and is something I’ve talked about before– historical context. The book deals with questions about whose histories are included in “history,” and how the groups being included has been so fundamentally rearranged in the last half century. “Historical interpretation both reflects and helps to shape current politics,” the author says. Perspective can largely change the entire story. He discusses the vast span separating how academics approach history versus the public, and the relationship between them. This will be a feast for me, as context is possibly my favorite debate within historical theory, and history as a practice. Good stuff.

Hosted my first baby shower. Almost one month ago, I played co-hostess for my friend Brandie’s baby shower. Brandie has been my roommate for the last three years, and this will mark a new era in our life. But simply said, the baby shower was a lot of work and even more fun, when it was all said and done. It felt nice at the end of the day to think of what we accomplished, pulling it off. I’m not naturally attracted to the idea of  hosting events, so I was surprised how much I really did enjoy the experience. Considering it was on a college budget, it came out lovely and ran smoothly. It is a small something that is part of a much larger ordeal, but I was honored to participate in one little piece.

MAKING MY FIRST QUILT! I will have to post pictures later on this summer, but I am making my first large-size quilt as a Christmas present for Ben. The design is pretty advanced, and I had to create the pattern myself, based on a picture of the quilt in one of my Mom’s Masterclass quilting books. Ben picked out the design, and it is modern and graphic. It is an excellent learning experience, as each square seems to bring new quilting techniques my way. My Mom is my mentor and helper, really giving me the confidence to see it come to fruition– it would have already been a scrapped project were it not for her.

Summer classes have begun. Ben is feeling really good about his, and I am very much going to enjoy mine. My professor is funny and a new perspective to learn from, and my classmates and the material we will be covering are going to provide thought-provoking classes (not to mention more blogs on history and new discoveries I make).

Don’t forget, I want thoughts and questions about Guo Jingming, the young Chinese author who is the subject of my previous blog. What do you make of him?

A great summer is abreast. Hehe.