Show Prep

I packed up my work this week to drop off at the Foundry Art Centre for my solo show that opens on September 3rd. The show opening marks the first time that most of this work will be seen in person. I’m very curious to get feedback and experience it in a space all together. The pandemic has taught me how much exhibiting is a major part of the process of working as an artist. Working on these pieces has taken a lot of time and it is easy to get lost in the forest with all the trees. Seeing work hung and watching people experience it is very educational. It can teach me new aspects to the work that I hadn’t considered before and lead to future pieces.

Mapping Memory III. Hand dyed and woven fabric, hand embroidery, and machine quilted.
Cotton and linen. 10" h x 10" w x 1" d 2019

The last time I exhibited a body of work was for my MFA thesis show in graduate school. Very often in shows one or two works are exhibited amongst others by other artists. Seeing a cohesive group of my work together provided a new understanding of how my ideas work across multiple pieces and the unexpected conversations that emerged between the pieces. One of the works in the Foundry show is a quilt, Homelands from my MFA thesis work. I found when thinking about what work to select that the ideas in that piece are just as present in my work today. The show is made up of several larger quilt forms as well as two series of smaller works.

Homelands

Hand dyed cloth, handwoven fabric, digital print on fabric, hand embroidery, machine pieced and quilted.
Linen, cotton and silk. 45" x 45"

2018

It has been very hot and humid in Missouri. We’ve had several days in a row of heat indexes and as a result I feel like I’ve been moving in slow motion. In contrast, my current audiobook is Arctic Dream by Barry Lopez. I first experienced Lopez’s work in my undergraduate nature writing literature class. I selected the class on a whim, and I think it is interesting that the themes and writers have become so centered in my mind with the work I’ve been doing.  While researching and thinking about my artist statement for the show, I read an article by Barry Lopez and was struck several times by his words. The following quote made it into my show statement as it speaks to my ideas and work on so many levels.

 “If you're intimate with a place, a place with whose history you're familiar, and you establish an ethical conversation with it, the implication that follows is this: The place knows you're there. It feels you. You will not be forgotten, cut off; abandoned.”

Barry Lopez 

Discarded Intimacy. Vintage handkerchief with embroidery, altered with dye and hand embroidered. Mounted on stretched linen. Cotton, silk, rayon, and linen. 12" h x 12" w x 1" d

Barry Lopez passed away in December 2020, I did not hear of this until my recent research. It seems a fitting tribute that I’ve circled back to his words. 

The show is titled Inheritance: The Endurance of Land. Titles do a lot of heavy lifting for me. For this show I was thinking about my own connection to the place that I live as well as the places my ancestors have loved. In traveling, I have found they are imprinted inside of me. The title also echoes, the translation for my family’s Finnish last name – the land endures. I love this encoded link to land found directly in our name.

If you are in the St. Louis area, the show opens at the Foundry Art Centre on September 3 and runs through November 19, 2021. There is an opening reception on September 3, from 5 pm – 8 pm.

Spring Fever

Spring has come to the Midwest although there is talk of cold weather and a possibility of snow tomorrow?! I have been feeling spring fever to get outside as much as possible. Spring and fall are my favorite seasons. Spring is a burst of energy – birds return (my hummingbird feeders are stocked and ready for action), everything is in flower and the weather ranges from spring rains to blue skies and crystal-clear days that just make your heartache with the beauty. I’ve found myself distracted from my work to watch everything outside, until my allergies chase me back inside.

Dogwood Tree in Flower

 I am preparing for a solo show that opens in September. Much of the work is finished, but I want to push myself a bit more. I have the time and plenty of ideas to work towards. I love having a deadline and a span of time to really see what I can do within it.

I’ve been slowly working on another whole cloth stitched map quilt form. I dyed the linen a few months ago with no real expectation for it. When it was finished, I knew it was another large map similar to one I stitched last year during the early lockdown days. I’m just beginning to put in the many layers of hand stitching that will go into the piece. The perfect color to define the many bodies of water within the piece turned out to be a thin rayon machine embroidery thread. It is a very slick thread which means it floats in and out of the cloth well.

The beginnings of a map

I’ve been breaking down my areas to stitch in order not to let my monkey mind get me worried about how much there is to do on this piece. Stitch by stitch, the work will get done. I might need to be reminded about this mantra later.

The stitching begins.

Congratulations on Becoming a Cougar: Or Why You Might Not Want to Go to Grad School (Especially in your Forties)

Molly Elkind kindly responded on Instagram about my last blog post. She was reminded of some things she learned in school and she did a follow up post that has got me thinking. I could do a post about why not go to graduate school….

Congratulations on Becoming a Cougar! was boldly printed on my acceptance letter to school. I reluctantly showed the letter to my husband. He of course found it hysterical and has delighted in reminding me many times how I’m twice the age of the students. As a woman “of a certain age,” a cougar has a very different meaning other than a college mascot.

In my last blog, I surprised myself on all the high points about going to graduate school. From my own experience as well as from talking to other MFAs it is not uncommon to feel ambivalent after completing school. Graduating felt a bit like stumbling off a fast-moving treadmill awkwardly at the gym. The whoosh of that express train leaving you behind was both welcome and destabilizing. There were no more huge, mandated deadlines unless I set them up. I also spent a long time catching up with life that had moved on without me. I finally saw and talked to friends, went back to meetings of the Weavers Guild of St. Louis, and made my face seen again. Most people understood why had disappeared for so long, but some friendships definitely suffered. I also had little urge to make my work for about a year after school ended. I learned other skills such as quilt construction and worked at the museum completing a large records reorganization project that I had started as a graduate assistant. This reluctance to make work hits many of us and I have seen a lot of my colleagues go through it as well. Eventually most of us circled back to working.

There was some unhealthy competition at school amongst the grads. The time clock keepers. These folks made note of when you got to the studio and when you left. They would make judgements and proudly tell you they were there for twelve hours. Or they never left. I’m not punching anyone’s time clock. This was my time, my education and none of their business. I can also assure everyone that they were not productive the twelve hours they were at school. As an older person, I have a house to manage, and a family that also needs my attention. School was a priority, but certainly not the only one. I also get tired and cannot work for hours on end anymore. I have chronic pain that I have to constantly monitor so it doesn’t get the better of me. I frequently spent a lot of time in my home studio. Working from home also meant less interruptions (i.e., can I borrow scissors, can you show me how to do this “really quick?”).

My first tiny studio space at school.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the cost of graduate school. I had a graduate stipend which required me to work for the school for ten hours a week and have my tuition waived. Stipend programs are usually competitive and generally you should apply early. Sometimes there are also grants from the school that will offset the costs. However, please note that this funding often doesn’t cover “activities” fees which are non-waivable. These fees pay for the school gym, student center and the various organized events that occur on campus. I seldom took the time to engage with them, but I paid for them anyway.

Be aware that some faculty at the school might not be on board with textiles being an art. Consider them in your selection of schools. Sometimes you will have limited contact with them, but during reviews of your work during your time in the program they may well be the people assessing your progress. “I don’t understand weaving so I can’t talk about this piece.” Having faculty feel they are unable or unwilling to discuss any artwork is ridiculous and it said a lot more about this faculty member than it did about me.

I also learned you have to find a way to push back against faculty, visiting artists, and students when it comes to critiquing work. We all have biases and sometimes they do not make for productive conversations. Determining when a conversation is not helpful takes discernment. Is it overly personal or is the overall intent to push you to make better work? There are always stories of students in tears after a critique was allowed to go sideways. Knowing how to talk to students about their work isn’t a universal skill set. Most professors/visiting artist do not have a degree in education. There are no classes to teach future professors how to be good mentors. It is learned and many do work on their pedagogical skills. They set the tone for critiques. If they have poor boundaries around this then class can get away from everyone. You do not have to stay in situations that are the result of poor boundaries. I didn’t experience abusive critiques in school. I did have one grad student talk on and on about himself in responding to my work. It got pretty comical. I finally interrupted and invited him to make his own piece, but that my work wasn’t about him. I also had a few studio visits that were not good. I thanked the person for the visit and moved the conversation onward or ended it. You do not have to let people waste your time.

 Graduate school for art can have a lot of drama, so much drama. Some students seem to be walking wounded and used critiques as a therapy session. There can be a lot of issues with immaturity especially if the program mixes graduate students with undergraduates. It is no joke that there are significant developmental differences with younger students. So much angst. It made me grateful for my older friends that were/are so generous with me.

If you are a non-traditional student, you might find yourself without peers or made the den mother or dysfunctional camp counselor (as I termed it). Know when to set limits. Working from home helped a lot with this problem.

On the other hand, I loved some of the mentoring I was able to do with students. As a former teacher, I miss the contact with students and seeing them learn and grow. During my time, I taught undergrads how to use an iron, thread a needle, use a sewing machine, helped them with a loom or weaving problem and referred them to resources. Being around beginners also has a hidden benefit. They do not know “the rules” and will try things that I never would have even imagined. I frequently learned from them and made note of their discoveries.

Finding the right program/school/mentor can shape your experience in school and have an impact on your career. The ideal mentor varies depending on the person. When I looked for a mentor, I wanted someone that I would have a lot of contact with. Some schools are research focused and faculty may not have a lot of time with students. I needed (and found) someone that was able to suss out my innermost unexpressed longings and reflect them back to me. I wanted someone demanding, constantly striving to move forward in thinking and in their own making. I wanted someone who would push me, listen, and ask questions. A mentor doesn’t just help you move through graduate school, but often is part of your life afterwards. They are a resource and sometimes you can return the favor to them. The interconnectedness of the field is very helpful and unique in many ways to textiles.

This is by no means meant to be a comprehensive list. I cannot really encourage you to go or not go to graduate school. This was only my experience and I’m sure I’ve left many things out. I wish I had kept that letter proclaiming me a cougar. Maybe my husband has it somewhere?