Where a Straight Line's a State of Mind
Quilt Zine
My February Front Yard
Stuff I got at Scrap Exchange
Links to Stuff I mention
Jess Bailey–Instragam @publiclibraryquilts
Running Stitch episode: https://youtu.be/yLoujLqXRx8
Taproot Magazine: https://taprootmag.com/
Not a link–but it’s the Utne Reader, not the Utne Review
The Unraveling (front)
The Unraveling (back)
Holy Ghost Window (front)
Books Mentioned:
Lynda Barry, Syllabus
Gia Tolentino, Funhouse Mirror
My QuiltCon Fabric Challenge Quilt, “Into the Woods”
The Wonky Red & White Star quilt, basted and ready to be (badly) hand-quilted:
Travis the Quilt Dog!
To read the best overview I know of re: QuiltCon, go to my girl HollyAnne’s blogpost--it’s a great round-up!
Here’s HollyAnne’s QuiltCon video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=3&v=RCN-f7l-_qg&feature=emb_logo
And more HollyAnne! https://www.facebook.com/stringandstory/videos/560365484823674/
The winning quilt–what do you think? (Speaking of HollyAnne–these are her photos, which she gave me permission to use–thanks, HollyAnne!)
I so loved this applique quilt, “Clementine,” by Debra Jalbert:
“Keith’s Doodle” by Cindy Cox is another applique favorite:
And of course, everyone loves “Bob” by Patti Coppock:
See you again soon!
Okay, here are some pix of the quilts I talk about:
Best in Show: “Smile” by By Leanne Chahley, Stephanie Ruyle, Felicity Ronaghan, Kari Vojtechovsky, Melissa Ritchie, Diane Stanley, Marci Debetaz, Debbie Jeske, Karen Foster, Hillary Goodwin
“Double-Edged Love” by Victoria Findlay Wolfe
“My Brother’s Jeans” by Melissa Averinos
“Going Up” by Stephanie Skardal
“Separated” by Val Lubereck
“Carolinas” by Terry Peart
“Passage #3” by Carson Converse
Detail:
“Line After Line: by Michelle Settle
“Briar Rose” by Patty Dudek
“Weave” by Susan Slusser Clay
“Random Hexagons by the Block” by Catherine Redford
Detail
“But, Was that Me?” by Heidi Parkes
Download this episode (right click and save)
This picture is apropos of nothing in Episode 224; I just needed a picture. It’s the back of a quilt I made several years ago. I hope for next episode’s show notes, I will have all sorts of finished quilts to show you! Or at least one!
I’ve been asked to join the Board of the Quilt Alliance! To watch a few of my favorite Quilt Alliance “Go Tell It “quilt videos, go here, here and here:
To see Emily Bode’s clothes made from quilts, go here:
See you next time!
So I was walking my dog Travis yesterday and thinking about one of my favorite quilts, Victoria Findlay Wolfe’s “Double Edged Love.” It’s one of her wedding ring quilts, a traditional quilt made modern, as VFW herself likes to say.
When I look at “Double Edged Love” I think of a Robert Rauschenberg collage where images are partially painted over, recognizable and hidden at the same time. Wolfe’s wedding rings are also present and absent; they also cover up and reveal. There’s an implication, underscored by the quilt’s title, that some weddings yield better results than others.
The quilt won “Best in Show” at the first QuiltCon, in 2013, but what’s notable to me about “Double Edged Love” in that context is not its modernity, but its nod to tradition. So, I wondered as I walked Travis up Spencer Street, is it a modern traditional quilt? A quilt that uses contemporary fabric and traditional block elements, but not necessarily traditional block patterns?
Not quite. Not really. “Double Edged Love” is at once more traditional than most modern traditional quilts and more outside of the box. But I don’t think it looks like the poster child for modern quilting, either.
“Let’s call ‘Double Edged Love’ a disrupted traditional quilt,” I told Travis as we continued our walking and pondering, and Travis looked like he thought that was a good idea.
Okay, so “disrupted traditional” probably isn’t going to catch on as a category any time soon. But in a weird way, disrupting tradition is exactly what “Double Edge Love” did when it won QuiltCon—it disrupted not only the tradition it was engaging with, the tried-and-true double wedding ring quilt, but also some of the traditions of modern quilting. By 2013, modern quilting was old enough as a movement to have a generally understood aesthetic–minimalist, clean design, alternate gridwork, solid fabrics, etc.–and it was mature enough to consider new ideas of what it might mean to be modern.
Modern quilting it’s been argued, has many roots—Amish Quilts, Art Quilts, the Gee’s Bend Quilts, Minimalism, Abstract Expressionism, Target. You can look at its family tree and everything makes sense more or less: this begat that begat this begat that. And then suddenly: here’s something new, a deviation, born of parents from warring tribes, full of hybrid vigor. In modern quilting’s lineage “Double Edged Love” is the surprise love child that knocks everyone back on their feet.
“Double Edged Love” both reflects and gives us insight into the culture we live in. Many of us are struggling to decide what traditions to hold onto and which to discard. We live in a time in which single adults outnumber married adults, gender identity is fluid, and more of us than ever answer “none” when asked our religious affiliation. “Double Edged Love” is a traditional quilt made nontraditional (disrupted traditionalism!), with parts of itself seemingly erased, parts created out of improvised pieces. At the same time, it literally relies on conventional means and patterns to hold itself together. Like most of us, I’d wager.
However we choose to categorize it, “Double Edged Love” will stand out as one of the most important quilts of the early 21st century. Like our culture and our quiltmaking, it takes from the old and the new—and then dreams itself into something we’ve never seen before. It’s the quilt that opens the door to whatever comes next.
My friend Daisy posted this on Facebook the other day: Have any of you given any thought to submitting anything to QuiltCon next year? I’m playing with an idea . . . Not sure I’m ready for that kind of rejection, though.
I hear you, sister. Rejection’s the worst. There’s almost no context I can think of where it feels good. The problem is that if we don’t risk getting our hearts broken now and then we stay stuck in our little corners and ruts. We remain unstretched; in fact, we may begin to grow brittle. Fearful. Curled up like dead spiders on the windowsill.
Does that mean I think Daisy should go for it?
Not necessarily. I mean, it depends.
On the one hand, if making a quilt to enter into competition seems like fun way for Daisy to push herself as a designer and improve her quilting skills, then why not? As Zina, one of the quilters that responded to Daisy’s query, said, “You can’t look at a rejection as an assault on your character or talent. Especially with a show like Quilt Con, where the emphasis is placed more on design than anything else. You should still make a quilt that speaks to your heart, because if you don’t get into the Big Show, at least you are left with a quilt that you love!”
What are reasons not to enter? Some of the respondents had specific concerns about the judging at QuiltCon. Katie, for instance, felt that QuiltCon judges privilege art quilts and “emotional” quilts over quilts that are functional and apolitical, suggesting that she doesn’t feel that the kind of quilts she makes would get serious consideration. Others found that the possibility of being rejected made the idea of submitting quilts to any juried show untenable. They admitted that it isn’t in their emotional make-up to take that risk.
But it was Tina who tapped into something that goes beyond the fear of being judged and rejected. She wrote about the fear of being shamed.
“I have no problems with quilt judges,” Tina said. “I was very sad for Melissa [Averinos, whose quilt “My Brother’s Jeans” won the 2016 QuiltCon Best of Show] because of the public remarks made about her very emotional quilt. I’m sure we all know the pain of overhearing disparaging comments about ourselves. Being a member of the quiltcon rejects [a flickr group for people whose quilts weren’t accepted for the show] sounds great, but the idea of actually getting in and hearing that I was unworthy or my art was unworthy is scary to me. Maybe I’m a little too insecure but I find such massive scrutiny terrifying.”
Yep. As far as I’m concerned, these days it’s not the idea of being rejected that’s so scary; it’s the idea of winning.
Like Tina, I don’t have a problem with judges; I have no reason to think that quilt show judges don’t take their jobs seriously or work hard to make responsible, defensible choices. That their ultimate choices might be somewhat subjective, particularly at QuiltCon, where the aesthetic and criteria are still evolving, is not a surprise nor a particular concern. This year it’s one sort of quilt that wins, next year it’s going to be another. It’s refreshing, if you think about it.
Now I think a lot of people were surprised that the judges chose “My Brother’s Jeans” for best of show. It’s an idiosyncratic quilt, sui generis, deeply personal, one that doesn’t really scream “modern quilt” (at least not to me). I actually think it’s beautiful quilt, but a lot of people I respect remain unconvinced that it was the right choice. And that’s fine–of course we’re going to have differing opinions.
But our opinions should be stated respectfully, with our compassionate understanding that a real, live human being stands on the other side of the quilt we’re discussing. I don’t think this has entirely been case with the discussion around “My Brother’s Jeans.” There’ve been great blog posts, like Katie’s over at Katie’s Quilting Corner, where I feel she tries to think seriously about the quilt and give an honest response. But there’s been a lot of snark. A lot of “I don’t get it.”
To which my response is: try to get it. Even if it’s just for five minutes, try to see what the judges saw. Try to open your mind and heart to the quilt. Because we all know how hurtful it is to be dismissed, swatted away like a fly. Could we please learn some compassion here? We’ve got to do better. We’ve got to stop shaming each other.
I propose we make a Quilter’s Code of Public Conduct. Maybe it could go something like this:
On my honor, I will try:
We all feel vulnerable when we take risks. We are vulnerable. We could get hurt. But how about we all make this promise to Daisy and everyone else who dares–who has the friggin’ amazing audacity–to put herself out there in a big way: we will stand behind you. We’ve got your back. So go out there and give ’em hell.