Blast from the past - April 2007

Today has been a very strange day, starting with dashing out of the house to catch a train, and then realising the ticket would be £62 or more, and changing my plans. (Lesson: think ahead, book ahead - or travel by coach.)

Which left me at Paddington at 8.05 am, wondering how to fill the day, and reluctant to simply return home immediately as it was rush hour.

I went on to Hammersmith, wandered down King Street to Chiswick, had a coffee and a conversation with the blind man who was pointed to my small table as one of the only seats available, then went on to the nearest bookshop to browse for at least an hour, reading bits of Jan Morris's Spain, first published during the Franco years (I lived in Menorca in 1972-3) and ...uh-oh... buying How to Read Water, which I've been eyeing for a while (it's got info on polynesian "maps"). On to Chiswick House for a spot of lunch and to make a start on reading water, well the book anyway, and home about 3, avoiding rush hour, to tackle sundry chores from the little list I compiled earlier in the week.

So it was a slightly "different" day: unexpected, and not really satisfying because of the abandoned plan lurking in the back of my mind. Another time this unsettling sort of thing happens is when an appointment suddenly falls through, and you have an hour or two of empty time - nothing particular to do, and you're in a place where it's hard to decide what you "should" be doing instead. And isn't that the problem - the "should"-ness of the everyday, the need to accomplish some planned thing ... today it was great to be able to just wander down a new-to-me street and look at shops and people and divert down sideroads and decide which coffee shop might be congenial - though you do take your chances there! - and simply to divest yourself of should-ness and do some open-ended "living" instead.

Right, that's an everyday everyday, so let's find something from 10 years ago, exactly 10 years ago. We'd been to Burnham Beeches - " An ancient woodland, with a moated area, Hardicanute's (Harding's) Moat, surrounding an ancient settlement (12th-14th century)" -

We went back a few more times, in later years and different seasons - a lovely place for short walks, but there was no cafe....

Ten years ago we went to car boot sales regularly - finding strange pictures and amusing objects for the "conservatory collection" and photographing some of the interesting ones that had to be left behind, like this bit of wildlife -

(via)

2007 was the first year of CQ's journal quilt project - I liked the A4 size and spent Sunday afternoons making extra pieces, including some intensely machine-stitched ones based on kilims -

(via)

This year I'm very far behind with journal quilts, and the deadline for posting the first batch is about a week away. Will it happen?? At least the sewing machine is now accessible, so there's a chance.

JQ time again

In case the quilt-y readers of this blog have felt a little under-served for the past while, what with all the booky stuff (though I sometimes wonder, "is it a book?"), here's some fabric at last!

It's time to put the next batch of journal quilts into the CQ yahoogroup photo files. The first batch this year was to be 75% (approx) red; the second batch is yellow, and the final lot will be blue.

Because the black circles looked like rising suns on planets with strange atmospheres - if suns could be dark matter - I started to think along the lines of astrophysics and constellations when it came to naming the quilts. The names are chosen at random - or because I liked what the words meant.

Stellar Sunrise: Grus

Grus is latin for crane, and the constellation name was introduced in the late 16th century. It's in the southern sky.

Stellar Sunrise: Ursa Minor

Ursa Minor is the little bear - or the little dipper. It's one of the 48 constellations listed by Ptolemy in the 2nd century. The north star - Polaris - is at the end of the ladle of the dipper in the sky, but in my quiltlet it's the big central dot. Or rather, that's how I see it after the fact ... maybe next time I'll plan it out first.

Stellar Sunrise: Dorado

 Dorado, dolphinfish or swordfish, is also in the southern sky; the name first appeared on a celestial globe in 1597, and this is one of the 88 modern constellations.

Stellar Sunrise: Cassiopeia

Cassiopeia, another of Ptolemy's 48, is named after a Greek queen who boasted about her unrivalled beauty. (This brought on the wrath of the gods and she came to a sticky end.) 

This bit of research into the constellations opens up a fascinating field of science and legend and history. The names on the list for the blue set of JQs are

Pavo, the peacock

Eridanus, the river

Cygnus, the swan

Cetus, sea monster

I hope to use the black dots to represent the look of the constellations this time. And to do the research beforehand "to inform the making", rather than as a retrofit. And to put them into the files month by month, rather than wait till almost the last minute!

False start (shades of red)

After gathering all my red, yellow, and blue scraps, I started with the red ones - ironing, tearing into strips. It made sense to lay out a few at a time, and after an hour or two this layout had evolved -

Even as more and more pieces joined each layout, I was getting the feeling that more wasn't what was needed. So it's back to square one - back to the blank canvas....

My original idea was to hold down the strips with handstitch, and then add machine quilting across the piece. The quilting is supposed to make a major contribution -- not get lost among busyness.

Journal Quilts 2012

This year Contemporary Quilt's JQ challenge is "Shades of..." and involves using 75% or more of a colour in the monthly A4-sized quilt - red for Jan-April, yellow for May-Aug, blue for Sept-Dec. This morning I had an idea for a series and before leaving the weekend studio had time to rummage for strips and scraps of the appropriate colours, ready to start next weekend. There looks to be enough for half a dozen small pieces in each colour....

Even while I was collecting fabric, the idea was evolving ... goodness knows what will actually happen when I get started. As with all my current work, it will be rather abstract (though perhaps tending to landscape rather than "figurative") - and needless to say, "journey lines" are part of it.

False colours

Usually I use Photoshop for only the boring, mundane things like resizing pix or cropping or taking out that blob that my camera adds. And I know the keystroke for getting up Curves, and what to do to make the pic lighter. The other day the cursor slipped and this suddenly appeared -- It's a bit dark, but who knew there was the potential for a dark red glow in it?

Take the curve the other way, and you can get this -

Magic. I don't understand how/why it ends up like that. I don't particularly want to understand, or to do a lot of this sort of image manipulation -- it's a bit like having an ice cream when you're on holiday, not something for the daily diet!

Dinner Party

November's journal quilt represents a gathering of the "senoritas" - Julia did a yummy mushroom starter, the main was a vegetable gratin, Mary brought baklava and other goodies (on those fancy plastic plates the bakeries use for packing them) for dessert, and Linda brought the flowers (alstromeria that lasted for weeks). Wine and conversation flowed freely.
I pinned it up in my work space, next to the Klimt landscape torn from a calendar and a changing display of Winifred Nicholson postcards. The beloved mug came from Fenny Lodge Gallery, which is right on the canal (near Milton Keynes), and the chinese fruit bowl came to me via Rita's mother-in-law, in Halifax, NS. Everything has a story - even the stapler.

Lesson 4

The subject is birds, the method is using bondaweb -- lots of possibilities! Battery hens came to mind immediately, but I decided to rise above that depressing thought. So, a quick rummage through the sketchbooks. These drawings from years agowere also interpreted in collage - influenced by an early applique piece by Janet Bolton -
This time I wanted to do doves rather than chickens - inspired by the (misremembered!) dovecote at Rousham
My twists on Jane's instructions are: getting the bird shapes via cutting them out of paper rather than tracing a drawing, and using the bondaweb for the background - here it is drawn on the paper backing -- but I'd forgotten to reverse the drawing -
Here's the fabric palette - muted blues for the background, colourful silks for the doves -
The background in place, and an idea of how the little (and big) doves will fit in.When it came to adding the details, the coloured birds just didn't work. I'd been thinking about Picasso's "palomas" series in the Barcelona Picasso museum, in which the pigeons in his dovecote are white. It's enlightening to see how simply Picasso has depicted the doves - just a couple of circles - and in some of his lithographs, like this one here, the bird appears to be just a couple of squiggles!

Mine of course were much, much more laboured. Clunky, even. As I was laying out the pieces of the big bird, Tony happened by and moved the head and beak to the side, a tiny change that makes all the difference -- The "tail feathers" are done with free machining, and the eyes are french knots.To develop this further, I'd look harder at the structure in Picasso's pix and also do some ink-dropper drawings of memories of birds in motion and at rest (which will involve looking harder at birds in general). And be less restrained in my choice of fabric - look at the bright blues and ochres in the Picasso pix, after all. Just break out a bit, free up....

Doh a dear

In lesson 3 of Jane LaFazio’s Art Quilt Exploration class the task was a painted quilt, using an animal portrait. Try to capture your pet’s aura. OK, not my usual “thing”, but it’ll certainly be different – and stretching – which is what classes are about, right? So I looked at my bookshelves and found a Wildlife Photographer of the Year book, with these images:Which to choose? They’re greyscale here because that’s easier for the next step, but are gloriously colourful in the book. The deer is by Andy Rouse and the seal is by Norbert Wu .
Here’s my improvised lightbox. I’ve already used it, with the photo up on the screen, to trace the creature onto a bit of plastic, and am now retracing it onto unprimed canvas.

Next step is to paint. Why not blue? I used several washes of acrylic paint (the moire effect is confined to the photograph). The small dark areas are due to careless mixing of the paint – bits left in the brush – but that’s ok, we can use those to build the background. Anyway, they remind me of the poppies in the original picture. Then the stitching starts - by hand and machine.

I couldn’t get away from trying to make him look more realistic. And I couldn’t resist adding beads – even if they do look like a swarm of midges!

My big discovery is the “self-framing” effect of using stretchy fabric on the back. Do a “pillowcase” backing, trimming the seams very close to the stitching (zigzag round to stop any unwanted unravelling, then turn). Because the canvas is stiff, the stretchy fabric bends round it, making a thin frame. I used a velour here, and added the beads up the sides to keep that line of darkness in place.

A landscape quilt

This week I'm starting a six-week online class "exploring art quilts" with Jane LaFazio - the first week we're doing a landscape quilt. The fabrics - including brown, not a colour I have a lot of, for some reason - mostly came from the bring&buy at Saturday's regional day.First attempt -- note the menacing clouds in the sky: rain clouds -
Second thought - making the clouds into misty hills and adding roads going over the nearer hills -
But while we were out on Sunday morning, drinking in some culture and haunting a few bookshops, I saw a photo that appealed for this project, and scribbled it down to reinterpret in the fabrics on hand -
The edges are ironed under and then stitched down with invisible thread. Some of the areas are machine quilted
and here all the areas are machine quilted. It needs -- what?

Rain series

Here are the "rain and wind" journal quilts, all in one place. The aim is to get the feeling of wind and rain - but the results seem to be pulling me in other directions. This first one could be landscape?
A variation on that them - unfinished and abandoned.Sleet ? -"Tropical rain" --Using a very dark background led to using various colours of rayon thread on velvet - including orange, because night in the city is characterised by the orange glow of street lighting. During quilting the velvet shifts, leaving gaps to be filled in with solid stitching - that "mistake" is an idea waiting to be developed -"Golden Rain", enhanced with some beads ... maybe it needs more ...
And the latest, arising from memories of sheets of rain being blown past streetlamps -

Dotted

There's got to be an easier way - this journal-quilt piece took about 8 hours. (it now has a neat satinstitch border.) After free machining the big circles I cut out the centres - of some - to reveal the shiny fabric, but then their edges looked messy, so more machining was needed to hide the raggedness...

And then there had to be tiny circles between the bigger ones; there seemed no end to that, and I can see several places that still need a dot or two.... There's some experimentation with cutting out the entire centre and covering the hole with thread, as well as with cutting the backing away from some of the circles. Those techniques make it very tactile - you can hold it with both hands and then you suddenly come to the different thicknesses. The back is felted grey wool, with the threads still in place from moving from one circle to another (and two colours of bobbin thread) -

Here's what inspired this - "Geometric 2007" by Eileen Goldenberg, who works in encaustics.

After seeing her work in the "abstract and geometric" show on the website of Woman Made gallery in Chicago, I just had to do some more circles. Somehow my circles went their own way, rather than staying in nice neat rows.
Next time I'll cut the holes first, before layering and stitching. The layering could be exciting, and goodness knows what could happen with the stitching.

More "rain"

Golden rain, this time, being blown in sheets. (Perhaps not exactly meteorologically accurate.) Both the silk velvet and the pleated metallic organza come from the car boot sale and had previous lives as a skirt (Jigsaw label) and scarf (but who would have worn such scratchiness?).

The variegated metallic thread disappears into the folds of the organza and only just shows up on the velvet (it's best to stitch in just one direction, otherwise you get unwanted "texture" on the velvet). The thread for handstitching is thicker and used here and there on the organza - but is too subtle and disappears into the folds. You really have to get close to the piece to see it -

And the colours, in real life, are palepale gold and sumptuous darkest mossy green.

Materialisation

The screenprinted "flowerbox" piece is coming along - embroidered flowers are appearing. It's great to have a "mindless" piece to hand stitch. Choosing and scattering the colours provides just enough interest. The straight stitches look scarily messy close up, but I have a vision of how it will all knit itself together once there are enough, all over.

Several more rain-and-wind journal quilts have come into being, and when daylight comes I'll photograph them.

One of the things I like about this creative process lark is how you suddenly find a deeeeep interest in some topic that you'd never given a second thought, and then you start noticing "it" everywhere. And as you work on your little series, the way the rapidity of the journal quilts encourages, it evolves and opens up into a lot of possibilities. The "too many possibilities" thing used to throw me into a spin, but now that I'm making the little quilts just for the hell of it, rather than thinking it's got to be The Best (and Biggest) Quilt So Far, the anxiety and pressure is gone and it's become pure fun.

Journal quilt

In light of the rotten weather we had in August, I wanted to do something about wind and rain. Out came the grey fabrics

but when it fell together it was very bitty and complicated. I left it pinned together and hopped on the bus to Hampstead, but found Fenton House didn't open till 2 so went window shopping. Unexpectedly there were great bargains in one of my favourite shops, and I came out with items that will be useful next summer, whatever the weather...

Fenton House has a musical instrument collection, rather a lot of fussy china, and delightfully detailed needlepoint and stumpwork embroideries from the 17th and 18th centuries. The rooms are lovely - the bedrooms have arched nooks with inviting windowseats and leafy views.

When it's not overrun with people, as today, Fenton House is a lovely place to visit. I'd intended to sit in the garden and draw, and did do that, and continued to sit in the garden, stitching. What a pleasant afternoon, after all. Did I mention the sun was shining? And that the garden has two kinds of holly topiary? The pointy trees are along the path to the left, and are a variegated kind of holly. The pointy leaves and careful shaping have a disquieting effect.
Back home, to the machine, and in about an hour the JQ was stitched down. I used several kinds of black-white-grey variegated thread, trying to get the effect of rain but achieving a feeling of being on a suspension bridge!

August journal quilts

It never rains but it pours - so here, to match the weather, is a sprinkling of recent JQs. The first uses fabrics - cottons - discharged with chlorine bleach on day 1 of the workshop - sewn, with thread unravelled from the fabric (necessity being the mother of invention when spools of thread have all been left at home) while listening to the tv 'cos I couldn't get the silly radio in the hotelroom to work.

Same procedure next evening, using cotton and silk discharged with Thiox or Formisol. The vivid yellow-orange of the blue shirt has faded over the past few days to something rather dingy. Live and learn (and wash the fabric promptly?) -

Then yesterday with my head full of lots of art seen at the Tate, this one came together fast:

It uses the circles (donut holes!) left over from Luna, the moon quilt. Following instructions for the first exercise in "Finding your own visual language", I split the shape in various ways - with one cut, with two - splitting with three cuts and a little spreading, and what do we get but the suggestion of a star... Scraps of sheers add further colour (next time: sheers go underneath the circles) and it's held down with nylon chiffon (old scarf) and machine and hand stitched. Just needs some satin stitch round the edges - the machine at my "weekend studio" doesn't have zigzag, and usually I don't miss it.