The following is one of several earlier Culture Journal pieces:This may have been the most mind-boggling exhibition of quilts I’ve ever seen.
Or. Perhaps it was the depth of my current knowledge that made it seem particularly rich, because I well remember how I loved the famous
Whitney show (1973?) and seeing quilts on exhibit at the Shelburne around that same time. Because of those early deep aesthetic encounters I never had to think twice about valuing quilts and seeing their intrinsic artfulness. When we were getting ready to leave, I looked at two people who were examining the feathered-star quilt at the beginning of the exhibition and felt jealous, the way I sometimes do at a restaurant, when I’m finishing up a delicious meal and I see people around me just ordering theirs. In other words, it was a feast, and perhaps that metaphor is not all that far-fetched but fits with the domesticity of quilting, although that was scarcely a focus of this exhibit.
I feel compelled to pick a favorite – and perhaps that’s not the most productive path, just as I could never pick a favorite book, work of art, poem or even artist or author. So maybe a better approach would be to ask myself what struck me most? Or – keeping it pluralistic, what were some aspects of the exhibition that I found particularly noteworthy or impressive?
Yesterday I found myself taking advantage of the opportunity to get up to the quilts close and personal, and to really study the ways in which they were put together. That could be the result of two aspects of my current life: the course I’m teaching on Fiber Arts, which is encouraging me to think more about quilts as material objects, and also my use of quilt patterns in my stained glass work. In any case it was a treat to get such a close look at their construction. For example, the aforementioned feathered-star quilt, justifiably used as the exhibition’s leading motif surprised me by being entirely pieced, as opposed to appliquéd. Interestingly, each square is based on a nine-patch variation, as are quilts with the Road to California-Jacob’s ladder pattern, and the Double and Triple Irish Chains.
We also spent time looking at the several Star of Bethlehem quilts and I think I understand that they are composed of strips that are then sewn together to make each point of the star. In the quilts constructed of round units, such as the Sunburst patterns, individual circles were pieced and then set into a white background with squares from which large circular bites have been taken at each corner, also creating the effect of being appliquéd on a solid piece of fabric. One more surprising construction detail: on the Mennonite Log Cabin Pineapple Variation quilt, the pieces are attached with a fold, which gives them actually dimensionality as well as plastic depth. I wish that the power point of the exhibit that I purchased had better quality photographs so that I could study the surfaces with greater clarity.
Because one other aspect with which I found myself intrigued was the use of quilting itself. The early indigo solid fabric quilt was a masterpiece of quilting technique (though I never found the maker’s initials allegedly embedded in the central area) – but I was especially impressed by the ways in which quilting was used in concert with and in counterpoint to figuration. This was very vivid in the aforementioned Feathered-Star quilt where the red stars are punched out by their grid-like quilting stitches, in contrast to the diagonal lines in the side white blocks that frame them. Or in a blue and white Sunflower or Starburst where the circular central forms are emphasized by rings of circular quilting. In the Amish quilts it is clear that although the fabric is plain and unfigured, the quilting stitches add a great degree of visual activity. But so many others, as well, display skillful quilting that works in tandem with other aspects of the design.
I also found myself enjoying the fabric qua fabric. The note to the Boston Pavement quilt describes the use of “cheater” cloth, printed elements manufactured to be placed on quilts. Those were such a gas – “oriental” scenes, dogs, cats, butterflies – interestingly, these are motifs that appear embroidered on crazy quilts of the same period. The use of cut out floral elements in the central circle of the Sunburst quilt – done with such deliberation and care. And the fabric in a 1940’s doll quilt, which reminded me so much of the one I had as a child, that somehow I preserved, without even understanding its extrinsic value.
And finally, of course, I was interested in these works as personal expression. In how their makers used the medium to comment, in some ways, upon their lives. The American eagles. The appliqué of autumn leaves in the corners of the Sunburst with sawtooth border. And my favorite in this regard – Emily Wiley’s appliquéd quilt in wool whose central square is a house with a cat and a horse under a tree -- with several squares containing horses, cats, dogs perhaps – the maker’s favorite snoots? – as well as pots of flowers. This theme of personal expression is one that I can see myself pursuing – i.e. my interest in MM Hernandred Ricard’s quilt, My Crazy Life. Lately the quilts to which I find myself being drawn have some element of this personalized quality, some element that suggests that the maker was specifically and deliberately interested in making a statement about her life.
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