I ain't dead yet

Title with apologies to Woody Guthrie.

Very much alive and very busy, but decided to resuscitate the blog, at least until I have a website up and running (I will get to grips with it one day, I promise)

Busy making quilts for exhibitions.  The Cwilt Cymru quilts in the last post (about 19 months ago) have been to Redditch (Forge Mill Needle Museum), Llanidloes (Minerva gallery), and Rhyl Art Gallery, and will also be shown at the Pierhead Gallery in Cardiff (yes we're impressed too!) in November, after which they will tour with Grosvenor Exhibitions.  Work for the next exhibition is currently under way - watch this space.

In September, the Etcetera group, of which I am a member, has its first exhibition at the Platform Gallery in Clitheroe - 14th to 26th September.  If things work out I will have two quilts plus some small pieces on exhibition, space permitting.  The them is transitions, and the pieces I am exhibiting focus on transitions in my life.  This includes the quilt already shown as part of the last Contemporary Quilt Dislocation exhibition:

 

This quilts was made after coming to terms with my husband's alcoholism, which caused his death.  After dealing with the issues described in my last post I decided that I didn't want to struggle with this on my own, and luckily found an excellent therapist who helped me deal with it.  This included writing letters to my husband's demons, which I did in huge letters on the walls of a room due for redecoration, and wallpaper which I then proceeded to strip off.  It occurred to me that the words, disguied by being written in different directions, would make interesting fabric.  Painted, handwritten and screen-printed fabrics formed the basis of the quilt, which was then cut back to allow the red silk shape through - just as the process of writing the letters had allowed me to see him again and to grieve for him which I had not done properly before.  The quilt, Letters to the Demons will be accompanied by three mixed media pieces, combining painted canvas, fabric and stitch,  Anger, Recrimination and Resolution.  The last was finished first, possibly because it describes where I am now:

 

 

The other two pieces - more painful to produce because I needed to go back there to do it - will be completed shortly.

 

I did promise to make cheerful quilts this year - and at last this has happened.  The second quilt, in the process of being made, is called Moving On, and is about the realisation that I now have to leave the past behind and focus on my life now and in the future.  It relates to a recent walk in Northumberland along the coast between Craster and Beadnell.  In the earlier part of the walk I recollected the past, and felt acutely the lack of someone to share the walk with but by the time I reached Football Hole, I realised that my husband's alcoholism had, by our last visit to the area, made that sharing impossible, and that there was a sense that I was clinging to an illusion: anything that was to happen in the future would be a different kind of life.  Maybe in some ways a hard-won realisation, but one which enabled me to finish the walk in a much happier frame of mind, in the company of numerous black-headed gulls, terns and only a few - very civilised - people.  Even getting wet up to the knees crossing Long Nanny (the stream that runs into the sea) was fun - at least until I realised that walking in wet socks and boots might mean blisters, and I really should have taken off my boots and socks - but after deciding to get a bus rather than walk the last few miles to Seahouses I was able to encounter two brown hares (or maybe the same one getting around a bit) in Beadnell village...

 

The resulting quilt is well on the way to completion.  Reference to Beadnell beach and walking across Long Nanny - but with conmplete disregard for geographical accuracy (artistic licence here):

 

 

This is only a detail, not the whole quilt, which is currently being quilted, but it does give some idea of the joyfulness of it, the bright colours, the strange sgapes and so on,  The two fabrics are dye-printed, the blueish one from my husband's shoes (it turned out to be a good ides to keep them after all) and the red and yellow one a version of my own footprints (I tried printing from my own feet but it just looked blobby and I ended up with yellow feet for a few days).  It's even brighter than the picture suggests and I hope people will smile as much as I do when they see it.  It has been and is being so much fun to make and is possibly the most joyful thing I have ever done.  And judging by the smiles on the faces of Ryedale Embroiderers Guild members, who I showed it to when I gave them a talk on Saturday,  it may convey that sense of enjoyment to other people.  I hope so! 

Connection at Forge Mill Needle Museum

Last year I was fortunate enough to be selected as a guest artist for Cwilt Cymru, a group whose work I had admired since seeing it in the Spirit of the Celts exhibition.  The theme of the current exhibit is Connection, and I have chosen the connection with my mother as the focus of what I produced.  Since my mother's side of the family is entirely Welsh it seemed appropriate and I had been planning a series of pieces on my relationship with my mother for some time.

 

The first piece was an enjoyable and fairly straightforward quilt to make, called My Mother Made Spitfires, focussing on my mother's experience as a war worker at Vickers Armstrong's Castle Bromwich factory near Birmingham, where she was involved in making parts for Spitfires.

 

 

 

 

The hours were long, the factory a target for bombing, and the work heavy (the machinery she operated, a capstan lathe, was later deemed unsuitable for women to operate).  Even so, her wartime experiences, as she described them to me, were full of fun, films, fashions and dancing.  She had more freedom and more money than she had had before and like many others at the time had a determination to enjoy life to the full (the fact that life was uncertain at the time probably had something to do with this).  It was during these years that she met my father, a GI she married shortly before his return to the US in 1946.  The quilt tries to draw together the different aspects of her life at the time.

 

The poster at top left is used with permission of the Imperial War Museum.  Other images are adapted from contemporary sources, and the photograph near the bottom right is a photograph of my mother, printed onto Extravorganza and overlaid onto hand-dyed fabric.

 

The poster suggested the colour-scheme for the quilt: the base fabrics are cottons hand-dyed in various combinations of orange and purple.  Some of these have been digitally printed with images from the time and my own words describing my mother's experiences.  Overlays of digitally-pinted Extravorganza have formed a basis for applique, and the whole piece has been free-machine quilted.

 

 



The second quilt Turning Ugly was a different matter.  Originally I had planned to take a different area of my mother's life as the focus and to produce something relatively "safe", but as time went on my thoughts constantly got drawn to the years after the war, in particular a two-year period from November 1949 which were the worst two years of mine and my mother's life.

I was conceived shortly before my father's return to the US.  In the early days of her pregnancy, with my grandmother ill, and possibly getting cold feet about the whole experience, my mother did not take up any of the three passages allocated to her as a war-bride.  In 1949 my father divorced her.  She also lost her looks when she suffered a form of facial paralysis called Bell's Palsy which she never completely recovered from.  In November 1949 she married a recently-widowed father of two small daughters and we went to live with them in a village between Chepstow and Tintern in the Wye Valley, a beautiful part of the country made hideous for us because of the violence and abuse we both suffered.

The idea was to produce a quilt that had a sort of "double-take" effect: that looked beautiful on the surface but became other than that when you looked up close.  Originally the words that described the experiences were going to be obscured (as in the piece at top left) but as the quilt was being made, things changed.  The pieces of the story first became blurred but readable if you tried hard (written in inktense pencil overlaid with organza) but in the end they were written in stitch, on the surface of the quilt.  And one set of words - describing in outline an experience which I kept hidden even from myself, but which has been like a sort of invisible ghost haunting me all my life - emerged as I was writing it.  So that the quilt became in itself what it was never intended to be - a sort of therapy.

 

 

My neighbour pointed out that I had probably saved myself quite a lot of money in therapy costs - and I had a quilt at the end of  it.  It's been a very painful and difficult process but I now feel lighter and happier than I've felt in my life.  One thing that bewildered me - the last stage was quilting the larger squares: and it came out - unplanned - like this:

 

 

 

 With very free, joyful lines of quilting redolent of growth and natural forms - exactly the way I felt as a result of the process of making the quilt.

 

The exhibition - which contains beautiful pieces by the six permanent members of the group as well as the other three guest artists - opens at Forge Mill, Redditch tomorrow (11th Feb).



That Dragonfly!

You may have seen it at Festival of Quilts.  It was also featured on The Quilt Show in the US as one of a small selection of art quilts.  And it won the Art Quilt prize and Sylvia Critcher's Judges Choice at the Harrogate show.  It was originally supposed to go to Uttoxeter in April but took longer than I expected (a lot longer in fact - one of my quilting friends kept sending me emails headed "The Curse of the Dragonfly")  It's actually work towards - hopefully - an exhibition by the recently-formed Etcetera group, on the theme of transition and is the first of a series of pieces on this theme.

It's gestation - as is usual with me - took a long time, partly because the format (landscape rather than portrait) was a requirement for the first group piece and it took time to get to grips with it).  After chucking around all sorts of ways of exploring it finally came up with the somewhat obvious idea of huge dragonfly (the quilt is 64" x 48" and it bleeds off the edge with reverse applique wings based fairly closely on real dragonfly wings.  Obvious but I thought it would work visually.  Ok - let's be honest -  I thought it might look spectacular and people might not walk straight past it as happened with the rather quieter Sea Edges at the NEC last year.  One doesn't like to see all that effort go unnoticed.

Though the project started as an investigation of the natural history of the dragonfly (having been fascinated ever since an Emperor Dragonfly accompanied me on a walk through Wytham Woods many years ago) the whole thing quickly acquire a symbolic significance.  Dragonflies can spend up to five years going through all the various stages it takes to grow and spread their wings.  As someone who, for various reasons I won't go into here, was unable fully to spread her creative wings until later in life, this had a particular significance for me.  Added to that dragonflies in some cultures are a symbol of self-realisation and suddenly the whole thing became powerfully meaningful...

For those of you who like to know these things, the background is simply patchwork with stitch-drawn pictures of the various stages in dragonfly development.  The dragonfly itself is cut-back applique in silk/metallic, silk and nylon crystal organzas, all hand-dyed.  The whole thing machine-appliqued and quilted.  It was the cutting back that took the time.  And I am still finding bit of "confetti" around the house even now

Sea Edges

I don't normally take this long over a quilt.  This one took just over a year.  It began with a workshop with Jo Budd on monoprinting and collage and a sketchbook full of drawings paintings and photographs of various bits of the Northumberland coast in the north-east of England, up against the Scottish border, an area of warm welcomes, windy deserted beaches, abbeys and castles, seabird colonies, farms boats and inshore fishing, saints and wildlife: my favourite part of the country.

My monoprints were of the organic rather than formally-patterned kind, sort of messy but deliberately so.  Organising them into a collages (including layering with organzas and chiffons) was a lengthy process, from here:

 



to here:

 

 

 

over a period of about three weeks.  Simply pinning on a design wall, moving elements around until they appeared to balance.  I discovered that the striped bits (originally greyscale samples) were essential to give the piece a bit of structure.  The fabrics chosen were ones which suggested the colours and weathering of the coastal landscape.

 

 

The rest was about the quilting.  Though I'd originally planned it as a machine-quilted piece I found that certain areas needed hand-quilting, and it was this that took the time - a mediatative process that meant the quilt evolved slowly (my hand won't let me hand-stitch for too long at a time) and developed in unexpected ways.

 

 

 

The end result (above) combines areas of texture with areas where stitching has been used as a medium for drawing - close-ups below:



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Buttons and Catching up

The Contemporary Quilt Group Journal Quilts for the October-January pieces are all required to use buttons, causing many people including myself something of a real challenge.  Looking through my button box I came across eight huge buttons and the idea of using these as focal points for composition proved irresistible.  As I have eight buttons I have challenged myself to double up and make two pieces per month.  I've also set myself the task of exploring complementary colours in each one.

The first, called Yellow Colour Field with Big Button is a collage of various fabrics - cotton, scrim, dyed wadding, felt and butter muslin anchored with machine quilting and embellished with couched purple thread and bits of silk carrier-rod - lots of  time playing with the arrangement but the stitching was straightforward.

The second arose from a series of samples I made for a workshop I taught on Improvised Curved Strip Piecing for Textile Without Limits.  It uses fabrics which originated I from Ghana along with some hand-dyed fabric.  This is also a tryout piece for something larger.  It's called Ghanaian Grid with Big Red Button.

Number three, which also uses fabric from Magie, dyed damasks and Zimbabwean prints, is called Big Button Blues.

The fourth one uses my stash of fabrics designed by Native Australian Artists.  My husband was born in Australia and was fascinated by Aboriginal Art.  Improvised curved piecing again but this time in crazy form.  Couldn't resist calling this one Big Button Dreaming!

International Quilt Challenge

Partly inspired by seeing the work of the Twelve by Twelve group at Festival of Quilts, I have recently joined an internet challenge group, The International Quilt Challenge.  Sixteen of us, including quilt artists from the UK, Ireland, Australia and the US are producing a piece every two months to a theme set by each member in turn.  The first theme, chosen by Annabel, was Sunshine and Shadow.  For a long time  I couldn't decide what to do then, pondering one morning with the deadline imminent, I became fascinated by the shadows of my neighbour's ornamental plum tree on my bedroom curtains, which reminded me of yet another photograph taken by my late husband, of evening shadows on the mesh curtains in the downstairs bay window: 

What I found particularly intriguing was the way that the shadows of the leaves in some cases were crisp and in others half-formed and varied in depth/intensity.

The resulting quiltlet was composed intuitively and at speed with no sketchbook input.  The ideal base fabric presented itself to me - a piece of silk charmeuse I'd dyed some time earlier, and the shadows were made from layers of silk and polyester organza I'd also dyed.  I ironed the organzas onto black mistyfuse, then cut and bonded freely composing as I went.  Then finished the composition with free-machine quilting. Though the end result is in my view a bit limited, and has nowhere near the depth of some of the other pieces in the challenge, I do sort of like it...



More challenge pieces

First updates on work from NWCQ Weekend group - aka Textiles Without Limits:  Mary's piece with the couching finished:

Phyl's leaves (well worth enlarging to see the detail, especially the embroidery:

and a clearer photograph of Leah's piece!

and a whole series of small pieces by Julie - showing a wealth of techniques and a wonderful degree of imagination, not to mention artistic ability!

Leeds West Indian Carnival - 44th Year 2011

Just a few of many photographs!

NWCQ Weekend Group: the Challenge Pieces

Just over a month ago I put together a series of challenge packs of bits of fabrics thread and so on from my huge hand-dyed stash - an attempt to do something useful with it instead of letting it just sit there.  The pack contained a variety of small pieces of fabric - felt/wadding, silk, cotton, satin, scrim, butter muslin, velvet, chiffon/organza, a silk carrier rod, stranded embroidery cotton, ornamental thread, and jute scrim.  The challenge - to use some of the contents (plus any of your own that you wanted to add) to make one or more small pieces - these could be sample pieces, the idea being to explore the possibilities.

The results amazed and delighted me, not just for the quality of the work but also on account of the enjoyment people obviously had in producing it.

So here goes - in no particular order (or rather the somewhat arbitrary order in which Blogger uploaded the photographs:

This gem of an abstract composition is by Ann Horton: something of most of the fabrics laid onto felt, embellished with stitching, couched thread and absolutely amazing use of beads which really make this piece (unfortunately the beads have not shown up as well as I'd hoped for which apologies) 

Catherine's work - in progress - started with the satin, which suggested stormy sky, together with the stormy sea of the hand-dyed cotton and scrom suggesting foam (if I'd known this fabric could look this good she might not have got it!)  I also loved the felt sails with the emboidered crosses.  Look forward to seeing this one finished.

Hilary's beautifully appliqued leaves really wowed me and I love the way she's found just the right fabric to use with the fabrics in the pack - and the stitching is wonderful too - again, really looking forward to seeiong this one finished.

Ena Glogowski's Volcano is a really dramatic and exciting pieces.  This is the first time Ena had tried anything like this and she has made really effective use of the materials - the silk volcano, the muslin and scrim mountains in the foreground, the fibres, jute scrim and bits of silk in the smoke and fire.  A very special piece - and Ena's comment - "You have introduced me to a Real Good Thing" is the icing on the cake.

The following piece - probably the most adventurous of all - is made by Anne Egerton, Ena's daughter.  She describes it as a 3D sampler, and once again I'm not sure the photographs do it justice.  Part of it is quilted satin made into a sort of cornucopia...

with various other fabrics spilling out in a sort of wild profusion - an effect I love but which I always find difficult to achieve; she's also included ornamental gift ribbon.  I especially love the stitching on the satin and the way she's used the jute scrim so effectively.  Again, one I look forward to seeing finished.

Helen's work will be familiar to those who have followed the Twelve by Twelve group or seen their book and exhibition at Festival of Quilts.  This piece contrasts the mass-production (shown in the comparatively flat machine-stitched background fabric) of textiles with the richness of handwork: and here it really is rich - if you click the picture it will enlarge so you can see the detail.  The more I look at this the more I see in it, and I particularly love the asymmetric composition and the way in which the tiny darker pieces of silk carrier-rod bring the whole thing together.

During the meeting Ann Horton made a frame for her piece (hope we get a lesson at some later stage - is there no end to this woman's talents?)

Dina is another member of the group for whom all this peculiar stuff was new, challenging and ultimately exciting and worthwhile.  Her piece is a sampler of different materials and techniques depicting the twelve months of the year, beginning with the paper fan ( a fanfare for the coming year, and including april showers made of scrim, chiffon plants, frayed velvet for a November bonfire, a painted apple and winter fires in jute scrim: a really inventive use of the materials.  She was also stitching a really beautiful scarf during the meeting.

One of the members of the group got a little stuck (it happens to all of us from time to time) and passed her pack over to Ann Horton, who made this piece for her friend - not only taking on the task of finding ways to use the fabrics effectively but also making something her friend would like  - beautiful felt and velvet leaves, padded petals and a variety of fabrics and threads for the flower centre.  Lucky friend!

Leah Higgins is the groups convenor and produced a beautifully finished geometric piece: unfortunately the photograph doesn't do it justice.  A pity because she's used a whole range of fabrics in a very complex way to produced a beautifully balanced composition.  Using simple shapes she's used a whole range of techniques - different kinds of edges, lines and overlays.  And being me I love the touch of asymmetry.  Another one I could look at for a long time (I hope I'll get a better picture at a future meeting.

Finally to Mary's.  Apparently her technique was to spread out the contents of the pack on the background fabric, rearranging until she got something she liked the look of and it really has worked well.  I love the contrast of colours and textures and particularly the way the wiggly lines in the jute scrim and the thread with silk carrier-rod contrasts with the straight-sided geometric shapes elsewhere.  Another one I wish I'd made.

And there are hopefully more to come.

Pleaase if I have mis-spelt or got names wrong could somebody tell me and I will correct it (I was still a bit train-lagged after going to London the day before!)