Leni Wiener

Although I do want to keep the subject of this blog art and art related issues, I feel compelled to include a description of the last few days.  On Saturday, we in the NYC area experienced a storm unlike anything I can remember in a long time.  I come from New England, so I don’t consider myself squeamish about weather, but this was really something.  Strong winds and heavy rains, combined with a recent heavy snowfall that quickly melted–saturating the ground–all were a terrible combination for trees.  Big trees, down everywhere.  Blocking roads, taking down power lines, landing on cars and houses.  It looks like a scene from “war of the worlds”.  Very strange.

So what does this have to do with anything?  We lost our power on Saturday, and with it the phone, heat and hot water, which were not restored until Monday night (many in our town are still without power and may be through the week).  At first, losing power is annoying.  That night we sat around and complained that there was nothing to do, so we went to bed early.  Day one the house began to get cold, food in the fridge began to go bad, and the boredom generally increased.  For a while I thought this was the imposed relaxation I needed, I sat down with a book and a glass of wine with my i-pod in my ears.  Everything was so quiet.  Nice.  For a few hours.

It has never occurred to me how terribly dependent I am on the TV and the computer.  Not having light is irritating, even a little scary as there isn’t any light from outside either (no street lights, cars on the road or lights from nearby houses); but not having computer access or TV is downright awful.  I had no idea how many hours I spent sitting in front of either the TV or the computer screen.

Although I have a cell phone (and a car charger), my whole phone book is in the computer.  DUH.  And with no email, phone numbers, or the internet, I was lost.  What do we do when we are lost and bored?  TV.  Nope.

On Sunday night we lit a fire in the fireplace and played scrabble by candle light.  I thought this is what families need, more time together talking and interacting rather than watching TV.  Maybe people pre-electricity were less stressed–they went to bed early, spent more time together as a family, had a more focused life.

By Monday, when the house was freezing and it was too dark outside to even do much by daylight, the reality set in.  Home used to mean sanctuary, the place where you can really relax and unwind and where the troubles of the rest of the world fade away.  But with no light and no heat, unable to cook a meal, take a hot shower, do any laundry, even iron a shirt–it becomes only a safe dry place to sleep.  All other activities cease.  All sense of sanctuary dissipates.

I guess in this day and age, with our connectivity so far reaching we have also paid a price.  Our connectivity is everything.  I had to walk next door to invite my neighbor for coffee (I was able to light the stove top with a match).  We are so dependent on technology that even our homes become oppressive when our electricity is taken away–leaving us, literally, powerless.

The romantic notion of the simple life of a hundred years ago, with mother sitting by the fire sewing a quilt by hand is hog wash.  There was nothing simple about that life.  Dinner had to be made while it was still light in the kitchen, and had to be done without hot water or refrigeration.  Mother had to have pretty good eyesight to sew by candlelight–without a sewing machine and music, I couldn’t work on any of the things waiting in my studio.

So what did I learn about myself?  I am a techno-junkie.  Even in the supposed sanctuary of my home, I need to be connected to the wider world by my 20-21st century toys.   Even the dog did a happy dance when the lights came back on, even he was happy to sleep on the sofa to the sound of the TV.

After a morning at the computer, catching up with over one hundred waiting emails, I am off to throw away everything in the freezer and fridge and start clean–with a new appreciation of what it means to be powerless.

I bring my quilts with me when I talk or teach, and usually I just roll them up and tie around with two cords, with a third cord tied to each of the others as a shoulder strap.  Not a particularly elegant solution, but it has worked for me.  But two recent events made me think twice about how I carry my quilts.

The first is obvious–as a professional, presentation is important.  If we present ourselves and our work in a professional manner then we will be taken seriously as professional artists.  I wouldn’t go give a talk in my sweatpants (although some days I might like to) and I shouldn’t carry my quilts around like a hobo, either.

The other is what finally spurned me into action.  A fellow SAQA member posted on the chat group that she had her quilts rolled in the trunk of a car one rainy day, and the trunk leaked, causing a silk fabric in one of her quilts to run onto the other fabrics.  How painful.  Mine aren’t even wrapped, just rolled.  And water can even leave unwanted marks on cotton, too.

So today I spent about an hour on a quilt carrier that is pretty simple.  I am not a tote-bag person, so I am sure there are readers who could do this in a more elegant fashion.  But it works for me and I thought I would share it.  Maybe those of you who are tote-bag people will take the idea and make it better (if you do, please share your improvements with me).

I started with a reversible upholstery fabric I had in my stash–reversible so that I didn’t need to line it.  I used the full width of the fabric,  to accommodate any size quilt.

I finished the top and bottom of the large square of fabric–the two sides are selvage

made straps by cutting strips and zig zagging the edges so they won’t fray

made a shoulder strap by cutting a wider strip and turning the two ends to the middle and stitching to hold.

the straps are attached to the center of the outside of the square by sewing about an inch, zig zagging in place to hold the end of the stitches and then the same thing on the other side of the strap.  A picture is worth a thousand words…

Here is my large square, there are three long straps attached in the center area and two shorter ones toward the outside edges:

and here is the shoulder strap attached to the two middle straps.

The quilts are rolled up together and set on one end of the inside of the square…I could have laid a plastic liner on the carrier before setting the quilts onto it, and will probably do that when I take my quilts on wet days.

All rolled up and the straps come up from the back, tie in the front to hold it all together (the shorter straps on the ends finish the edges like a candy wrapper) and VOILA!  Ready to roll.  Pun intended.  The shoulder strap (unseen in this photo) hangs off the bottom and was held in place with several rows of zig zag stitches for security.

Maybe not the most elegant carrier, but I am no longer a hobo with quilts.

Last weekend my husband and I went to the Art Dealer’s Assoc. show at the Armory in NYC.  This show was a collection of well-heeled dealers from around the country with work to sell.  Actually,  I was a bit disappointed that most of what was available were well known artists of the 20th century.   Don’t get me wrong, seeing Klimt, Matisse, Picasso, Avery, Moore, Sheile and others was certainly wonderful, but I wanted to see something new and exciting.  I guess that wasn’t for this crowd.

I did see a lovely little Picasso that would look great in my house (and cost more than we originally paid for the house) but alas, I really don’t have any more wall space so I had to pass it by.

There was one gallery selling the work of two artists whose kinetic sculptures were extremely exiting and interesting.  But the one I will focus on in this post is Ellsworth Kelly, represented by more than one participating gallery.

Ellsworth Kelly is known as a minimalist, but that sells him short.  I suppose I understand the generalization that his work is minimalist in that it is about color and space–both positive and negative space–and his work is strong, hard-edged and uncomplicated.  I would call him a purest.  Like the line drawings of Picasso, his seemingly simple compositions are deceptively complex in his understanding of color, shape, and abstractionism.  His saturated colors heighten the power of his work.  But more than anything else, Ellsworth Kelly’s work is about contrast, and the tension between contrasting concepts.

The geometry of this piece cannot be denied.  The negative space is as important as the two imposing shapes, one curved and one with a hard corner.  The red and green vibrate against each other, while the strong blue makes its own statement.  Because the colors are all highly saturated and of equal value, this is a piece that is “in your face” and has tremendous impact.  The contrasting colors, red and green; the contrasting shapes–rounded and square.  The way the pieces come off the edge at the top of the work create the contrast between the horizontal (restful) format and the vertical “reaching to escape the top” of those shapes.

In the same color palette as the first piece, this piece has an entirely different sensibility.  The vertical format is more energized than the horizontal plane of the piece above it, but is contrasted by the horizontal shapes occupying the surface.  Here we also see the soft vs the hard geometric shape against the green (contrast, again), with the same visual vibration.  The blue shape seems to come almost to a point but not quite, drawing the eye to the edge of the work and (in our brain) beyond.

I love this piece.  The strength and the movement are magnificent.  That the artist can convey such a powerful image with only two lines of negative space is amazing.  Like the blue shape in the piece above, the white shape falls off the edge of the canvas, forcing the viewer to extend the art into the space around it.  I could look at this piece for hours.  Art in its purest form.

But the pieces that I find most interesting by Kelly are his pieces that explore the notion of randomness.  I am sure that I relate to these as they are so close to one of the roots of my own art–traditional quilting.  I doubt that this is what Kelly had in mind when he created pieces like these:

How like a quilt is this piece?  Although the artist was working with the notion of randomly placed color it is so much more than that.  The use of so much black and white provides a strong contrast of light and dark values, while the colors dance across the surface.   I love the geometry that is created in the white areas, and on closer inspection, the randomness is not as random as one might first think.  The few gray blocks are always next to a black one; as are the red and orange blocks.  With the exception of just a few cool colored blocks which draw the eye down a jagged line through the center, almost every color is attached to both a black and a white square.  To me this looks more like what I always describe in my teaching as “controlled random” which means that the look is random but is carefully manipulated to move the eye around the surface of the work.

Probably my very favorite Kelly piece is this one–”brushstrokes cut into 49 pieces and arranged by chance”.  The strong contrast of the dark against the light (not quite black and not quite white), the thickness and thinness of the lines, the magnificent movement around the surface all come together in a piece that reminds me of quilting, but is so much more.  This is a piece that is about not only randomness, but form, line, contrast and the complexity of simplicity.

Likewise, this piece, “study for meshers” has the same quilt-like qualities.  I can almost see the randomly pieced strips of fabrics cut up into squares and rearranged.  But what is so successful here as art is the wonderful array of shapes that are formed by the random mixing of the squares, where the ends of the rectangles fall allowing the eye a place to rest, and the one curved shape with the point that is almost lost in the sea of rectangular shapes. The saturated but cool colors feel restful while the movement has such energy.  Yet another study in contrast.

Similar in construction but oh so different is this piece done in warm tones.  The subtle difference in value provides a much more nuanced study of the negative and positive spaces.  Arranged so that they appear to be more horizontal than random, this piece does not dance so much as it flows from one side to the other.  the block of color at the edge provides beautiful composition by solidly grounding the edge of the work.  Here the contrast between the two colors is softer, and the horizontal movement is the restful element while the warm colors provide the energy.  I have never seen this work in person, so I am not sure if the lighter areas on the two sides of the piece are intentional or the result of photographic reflection.  It does give the illusion that this is not a rectangular shape, but that the edges are fraying–and interesting contrast to the hard-edges inside the work.

Hardly a minimalist, there is so much to learn from Ellsworth Kelly and his seemingly simplistic abstractions.

Go out and look at art today!!

Cindy Bettinger wrote a comment on the blog to ask the following quesiton:

When you take a picture of someone to make into a quilt, do you need permission?

This is a good question and is worth addressing in this blog.

As I understand it, and I am not a copyright attorney, any photo taken of a person out in public can be used for non-commercial purposes.

Primarily because I do not want to invade anyone’s privacy, rather than the legal subtleties, I will make every attempt to change the person’s face enough that they would not be easily recognized, even by the person in the photo.  I do this by simply making the face either a bit thinner or rounder, moving the eyes slightly, or by combining maybe the eyes and hair from one face with the nose and mouth of another (as long as the photos match up well enough).  Changing hair, adding sunglasses, or showing the person from an angle where their face is not clearly seen can alter the image enough.   Also, in using the technique of cutting pieces of fabric, the detail of the faces is often lost, making it hard to exactly identify the person depicted.

This woman in “Patience” looks so different from the original photo that even I am surprised when I look at the photograph (since I now see her as she is depicted in this art quilt).  For the same reason that I changed her face for the art work, I will not show you the original photo here; but although her body language remains the same,  in the original photo the woman is older, her face is thinner, her hair color is different, and she is not wearing sunglasses.  I doubt that she would recognize herself in this piece.

The face of the little boy in this quilt “The Boy in the Banyon Tree” is depicted with so few lines of thread that he becomes a more generalized version of a young boy rather than a portrait of a particular boy.  His grandfather (I assume, or at least I see him as the grandfather) is only seen from the back.

Likewise, in “Sunday Morning, Central Park” the actual face of this woman is depicted with only one piece of fabric, so that any identifying details in her face are lost.  Hense, no invasion of her privacy.

The faces in “Tourist Season” are also made up of so few pieces of fabric that this is not a portrait of anyone, it is simply a generic depiction of a collection of people.

I have never encountered a problem with someone recognising themselves in any of the photos I have taken out and about.  I take great care to alter their faces just enough to make it unclear who they are, and always treat my anoymous subjects with respect.

Last April, I took a photo in Hong Kong that ultimately became “Market Day, Hong Kong”:

I loved the photo, and felt that the resulting art quilt was ok, I liked the bag she is holding, was very proud of the way I fussy cut the umbrella fabric, and I used a silk for her shirt that my parents brought back from Hong Kong twenty years ago.  Nice touch, but I really felt that the strength and interest in this photo was the woman’s face, which was so small in the overall piece that I felt it lacked the impact it deserved.

So there is nothing that says we cannot revisit a starting photo, and in keeping with my new series of closeup faces, done small but (hopefully) with big impact, I reused this face and did it again.

This still is no where near finished, just at the glue stage.  But I think this now captures what was missing in the larger piece.  Of course, I could redo the entire figure, larger, using this face which has more impact, but in moving forward I feel that I don’t want to do big pieces, and I don’t want to do the bodies, the backgrounds–that for now, anyway, I just want to work on the faces themselves.  Finding your voice has as much to do with what you want to do as with what you don’t want to do, remember?

Where I have also made an adjustment from the other two I did since I started this series (go back in the blog entries a week or so to see them) is the color.  Here, I decided to mix both warm and cool colors, letting the base fabric of the face remain warm and fleshy, and using the cools as the darker values.  I prefer this approach to the last face I worked on in this series (and may make adjustments to it before I finish it) where the face done in the red tones is just too warm.  It needs to be cooled down, which I tried with the blue at the bottom corner, but the overall effect is still too hot.   So I like this approach, mixing color temperatures for more of a balance.

What was it the three bears said “not too hot, not too cool, it was just right”.  Damn, those bears knew their color theory!

Many people find it helpful at a certain stage of their career to join a professional organization to assist in their development as working artists.  There are several that are geared towards art quilters, or fiber artists, or whatever you want to call yourself (there is a lot of debate even about what we “are” as artists).  Other organizations are more oriented to traditional quilters.

These professional groups are different from guilds.  A guild is a local group of quilters (usually traditional quilters, but that seems to be changing) that holds regular meetings, brings in speakers or workshop teachers, and generally the members support and teach each other.  A guild is great for learning new skills and developing a network of people nearby who share your interest.  But a professional group is different.

One such organization is Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) a group of over 2400 international members including artists, teachers, collectors, gallery owners, museum curators and corporate sponsors.  Although the mission is to gain acceptance for art quilts in the broader art world, the benefits to members can be more personal.

I have been a member of SAQA since 2004, and one of the co-reps of the NY region (along with Jane Davila, author of “Art Quilt Workbook” and “Art Quilts at Play”) since 2007. Artist members fall into two categories: Active and Professional (PAM)–PAMs must be juried in for the PAM designation, but anyone interested in being a member can join as an Active.  PAMs have the added benefit of a presence on the SAQA site, and inclusion in the “Portfolio” which is produced yearly and sent to galleries and collectors.

There are probably as many reasons to join a group like SAQA as there are members, so I can only speak for what it does for me.  When I was just getting started as an art quilter I found it invaluable as a way to get the “lay of the land”.  I had no idea what exhibitions there were to enter, who else was doing what I was attempting to do, what other resources there were out there.  One of the most valuable tools for me are the posts to the Yahoo chat group, which I read every day.  In the beginning,  just drinking in the different topics and absorbing the information provided was a big help to me.  Announcements about who got into what show and who didn’t gave me a list of shows worth entering; other information I found valuable dealt with everything from professional development (like marketing, etc) to technique.

For the most part, being a member of SAQA has given me access to many extraordinary artists who have been generous of their time and willingness to share information.  Perhaps if I had emailed some of these people cold they would have been just as giving.  But the common thread of being members of SAQA gives me the confidence to contact someone else in the “group.”  I have developed “friendships” with many other SAQAs around the world with whom I communicate regularly, but some of whom I have never met.  Volunteering for different committees within the organization has also allowed me the opportunity to get to know other artists whose work I admire and respect.

SAQA also has its own exhibitions, some that appear in the quilt venues in Houston, Chicago and Long Beach; others that travel extensively.  This added exposure and opportunity to show work is great in building both confidence and a professional resume.

Not everyone will benefit from membership in a professional organization–if you are doing what you do strictly for yourself, then you probably don’t need it.  If you want to be more serious about your art; show and sell your work, teach or publish, you may find it useful.

You can check out the SAQA site at

http://www.saqa.com/

If you live in the NYC area, I will be having SAQAs at my house in March for what Jane and I call “parlor meetings” just to meet and talk and share our work.  If you would like to join us and see what SAQA is all about, email me at Leni@leniwiener.com for more information.  If you would like a brochure with information about SAQA membership, email me your address and I will mail it to you.

Pictures coming (I hate blog posts without pictures!) as I am working on a new piece but it isn’t far enough along to share it yet.

Having faced my own obstacles in the past week or so, I am back on track today and ready to get down to work.  I am more and more convinced that the state of the studio has more to do with my motivation to work (or lack thereof) than even I previously thought.

While working on that new series of small pieces of closeup faces, I was undecided about a color range for the next piece.  Consequently, I had pulled out several options; blues, greens, green/yellows, brick tones before deciding on blues.  At this point, however, there were so many fabrics out that the room looked chaotic and I didn’t want to go in there.  So instead I blamed my not feeling well, the fact that I was busy with other things, and feeling creatively blocked for my lack of motivation.  Does any of this sound familiar?  All the things I warn in this blog to be cautious about when you don’t feel like working on your art.

Because the “mess” is really just fabric that needs to be folded and put back in the proper bin (which is boring, I admit) it isn’t like really cleaning, and only took about half an hour.  OK, I admit, there are some fabrics that I put on top of a bin because I just didn’t want to fold any more.  But the studio is more than neat and ready to go into and work.  When it feels like a sanctuary, I want to be in there and feel inspired.  In fact, when it feels like a sanctuary I enjoy just going in there to sit and listen to music or have a cup of coffee (and it is far from the nicest room in my house).   When it feels chaotic I don’t want to be in there at all (how inspired and creative could I feel?).   So my note to myself is that putting off the half an hour I needed to straighten up the room cost me more than a week of inactivity.  Not really worth it.   Think of the things I could have done in that time!

In the meantime, however, despite the disaster in which they were made, I almost completed two baby quilts over the weekend.  A close friend just became a grandma for the first time, so one for baby and one for baby when he comes to his grandma’s house.  Nothing too complex as far as piecing is concerned.  Baby quilts are great to make–they are quick, they don’t need to be too fussy since they are all about the fabrics and colors, and they are made to celebrate such a happy event.  (I love babies, especially other peoples’ babies.  I need my sleep!)

I also spent several hours yesterday cleaning up the room in which I keep my computer and my files.  BORING.  But now that I know where everything is, and that room looks neater and tidy, I am feeling less anxious about all sorts of things.  Don’t underestimate the power of your environment to affect your mood and your motivation.  Getting organized and straightening up is cheaper than therapy, takes less time, and saves you money you can spend on fabrics (that will get strewn around the room and will need to be folded…..)

No pictures today, but in the next day or so I hope to have new work to share with you.  I am still waiting for brave readers to share their work with me and the other readers of this blog–and I am happy to answer questions or critique your work (don’t worry, I am gentle!) so that others can learn from it.

A nasty stomach bug has kept me from updating my blog, but I am back at the computer, ready to share my thoughts.  This week brought more snow (more than was predicted) which was particularly beautiful.  This snow clung to the trees most of the day and into the evening, not great for power lines, I am sure, but gorgeous to look at.

My favorite tree (again).  I take as many  pictures of this tree as I do of my children!

these will make great thread paintings some day…

The color of the sky at dusk in winter is so magnificent that I painted our family room (which is mostly windows) this very color.  For about seven minutes each day, it is the most glorious sight.

So that is it for winter.  It was beautiful, got some nice pictures, had some nice walks, I am now ready for spring.  Enough is enough.

Moving on to the real reason for this post.  Today I want to talk about entering juried shows.

One of the biggest questions art quilters starting out ask is “how do I know when I am ready to enter juried shows?” and the answer is simple.  When you feel that you want to try, when just creating the work isn’t enough for you anymore, then you are ready to give it a shot.  You will never know until you do.  Here is a list of pointers I wish I had when I started applying to shows back in 2004.

Ten things to know about entering juried shows:

1.  Start simple.  Begin with guild shows and other local venues that may not be as competitive (or expensive to enter) as the big national shows.  You have a better chance of succeeding and building both your confidence and preparing for heavier competition on the national (and international) level.  Contact your local library to see if they will show your work.

2.  Submit the maximum number of pieces allowed, and make sure they are consistent in style.  This was the biggest mistake I made in the first year I tried to get into juried shows.  I was still finding my voice, and working in three somewhat distinct styles.  I made the mistake of sending one of each style to each show, hoping to show them my “range”.  I didn’t get in anywhere, and I am sure now it is because in trying to show them my range of styles, what I really showed them was that I hadn’t found out who I was as an artist yet.  By sending two or three pieces (whatever is allowed) shows them that you are working in a consistent style.  It also always surprises me that the piece I am sure will get in does not, and an “also ran” is the one they will take.

3.  Know what the show is that you are entering, and obey the rules.  It is impossible to second guess what the judges will be looking for in any given year, but by looking at the shows in prior years (most of the major shows have websites that will show you highlights from previous shows) you can get a sense if your work is really off the mark.  If the show is looking for updated traditional and you are doing abstracts (or vice versa) don’t bother.  And read the call for entry to be sure you understand the parameters.  If the call for entry asks for pieces that are no smaller than 36″ on any given side, don’t send them your favorite piece that measures 24″ x 18″.  You are just wasting your money.  And however they tell you they want the images labeled, whatever additional information they ask for–do it the way they want it.

4.  Take decent photographs.  This is so important.  I hear over an over from judges that they don’t want to see photos of quilts hanging on the garage door, hands and feet showing, or the cat in the corner of the shot.  You want to send the most clear and simple (and in focus!) representation of what the quilt looks like, with no other distractions.  The good news is that digital cameras allow you to take dozens of photos, see them instantly on your computer, and make changes until you get it right.  (In the old slide days, you would have to shoot a roll, pay $20 to get the film developed and hold your breath.)  I could do a whole post on photographing your work (and maybe I will), but keep it simple–just the quilt, and nothing but the quilt.  No fancy lights?  Pin your quilt to a sheet of foam core and take it outside in sunlight (not strong sunlight that will create shadows) and shoot it there.  Try to make sure you are shooting straight on so that the edges don’t get distorted.  Remember that the judges will want to see the edges of the quilt, and that your detail shots should show them something unique and special about your quilt.  More on this in another post.

5.  Get it in on time. Make a list of the shows you want to enter and keep a calendar.  Mark the due date as a week before the actual date, so that you don’t find yourself scrambling at the last minute to get it done.  Some shows now allow email submissions, some still want that image on a CD.  A little advance planning avoids the extra overnight charges that procrastination insures.

6.  Don’t overlap submissions.  There is nothing more unprofessional than having a piece accepted to a show and then realizing it is not available because it also got in somewhere else.  Nice for the ego, but having to contact the show and tell them you can’t send it will not score you any points.  In the beginning before you have a large body of work, it is tough to have three pieces ready for every show you want to enter (I found myself frantically finishing pieces for every deadline in the first year I entered shows) but you have to make certain you understand the dates they will want your work, and don’t commit to more than one show in any time frame.  If the quilts don’t get in somewhere, they will be available for the next round of submissions.

7. Keep good records.  Keep a list somewhere of the shows you want to enter, the relevant dates (submission deadline, announcement date, exhibition dates, expected return date) so that you know what has been submitted and what is out.  It is easy to get confused about where your quilt is and when it is coming home, so write it all down.  I also find that keeping a spread sheet of the quilt titles, sizes, dates completed, shows they have been in, where they are now, prices, etc. makes it easy to keep track of what I have, and to find the information I need when I need it.  I photograph each quilt as it is completed and keep them in a computer file, so that entering shows means pulling and image and some information from the computer and I can be done in a few minutes.  I also keep an artist statement and short description of materials and techniques for the same purpose.  No drama.  And once the quilt is accepted somewhere, I add it to my resume immediately so that nothing falls through the cracks.  Why get into shows if you don’t remember to put it on your resume!?!

8.  Finding the calls for entry. Magazines like Quilting Arts always have a calls for entry section that will list upcoming deadlines for different shows.  Professional organizations like SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates, www.saqa.com) also make this information available to their members.  If you hear about certain shows over and over again, google the names and get the information about the next call.  The good news is that once you get into a show, they will send you a reminder for subsequent years and you don’t have to do as much leg work.

9.  Getting in and not getting in.  Nothing feels as good as getting into a show, but if you get a rejection letter, don’t beat yourself up.  I know lots of stories about a quilt that was rejected from one show only to go on to win first place in another.  But be honest about your work–is it not quite there yet?  Are your photos holding you back?  Or maybe it was just the wrong piece for the assortment the judges were putting together.  The rejections hurt, but it only makes the acceptances feel that much better.

10.  What you learn from seeing your work in a show. If you live close enough to go see your quilt in person–do. It is not only an ego boost, but it will also provide valuable information about your work that you won’t get anywhere else.  For example, to my horror, I found out at one show that I needed to do much denser quilting so that my pieces would hang flat and neat once they arrive.  The shows won’t press before they hang, so if your piece looks wrinkled and messy, you only have yourself to blame.  Important lesson learned.

We had a really good talk at the art quilt monday session this week, only a few people came but the talk was more about the things that bother artists in general than about anyone’s work in particular.  Although much of what we discussed has appeared in this blog before, I think it doesn’t hurt to repeat it.

finding your voice:

One of our group completely changed direction and created two beautiful pieces that are a complete departure from what she was doing before.  This is a huge breakthrough, because it means she has finally discovered who she is as an artist and where to go from here.  She has been frustrated and unmotivated in the last few months, and felt an instant spark when she started in this new direction.  This is important to remember, that if you have chosen to make fabric art (or any art) and aren’t “feeling it” then you need to ask yourself why.  It doesn’t help to emulate someone else’s style, you need to find that which makes you feel satisfied and fulfills you.  If you are frustrated or find yourself losing interest before a piece is complete, then you need to do some soul searching and figure out why.

changing your voice:

Once you have found a direction and established a recognizable style and “voice” it is important to keep growing and pushing yourself in new directions, out of your comfort zone.  Sometimes this does not mean a complete departure from what you are doing, but a tweak in another direction.  Sometimes, however, it means a complete overhaul and a move to a new and unrecognizable style.  The well-known fiber artist Michael James comes to mind.  For many years he did beautiful geometric pieces, and then switched to a style that I would not have known was from the same hand.  Whatever motivated the dramatic change is personal.

process vs product:

This is a subject about which I have very strong feelings.  As artists, we cannot be making art to satify a consumer, because as soon as you begin to make art that you think will sell, you are not making art anymore.  You are not expressing personal creativity and expression anymore.  You might just as well be making tote bags or placemats or widgets.  If you need to make things to sell (and frankly there are much more profitable ventures than sewing for a living) then do, but don’t confuse them with the art that you make for yourself.  The hope (and dream) is that there will be people out there who get what you do, love what you do, and buy what you do.  But it is a mistake to try to anticipate what will sell and then try to make it.  You must find joy in the process.  If you don’t, then you are no longer an artist, you have become a manufacturer.

can’t fit art into my life:

This one is not nearly as simple as it appears on the surface.  We all find the time to do all sorts of unsatisfying things in our lives.  Never have I not found the time to make dinner, or do the laundry; never did I not have time to pick up the kids at school.  If you can’t find the time to fit art into your life, then you have to ask yourself the following questions:

1. Do I really want to create art?  Am I driven to make art or do I just like the idea of being an artist?
2. Is it really about time or am I frustrated in some other way?  I have avoided the studio for the past few days and the reason is clear to me–it is messy.  Many artists can work in a messy space, but I need neat and organized–I need to feel as if the studio is a sanctuary.  When it is neat, I WANT to be there, will often just sit there doing nothing because the environment is soothing.  When it is messy (and messy only means I need to refold the fabrics that are out and put them in their bins) I just can’t be in there.  So instead of spending the half an hour it would take to make it a sanctuary again, I haven’t “found time to work” for a few days.  This is not about time, it is about avoidance.  Perhaps your avoidance is about something else–you don’t like how a piece is going; you aren’t working in a style that motivates and competes you.  We always manage to find the time to do the things that are really important.  If you aren’t making time for art, figure out why.
3. Are you just not treating yourself as if you are important enough to spend time doing what you want to do for yourself?  I love my kids, and yes, I remember how time consuming they were when they were younger.  But guess what–they can survive for an hour without you, they can eat tuna fish sandwiches once in a while for dinner.  And they will be better off with a mommy who is happy and feels fulfilled.

being an artist means a lot of alone time and introspection

This is something that I don’t think many artists come to terms with.  This is not a people-person activity.  This is a solitary activity.  You have to be comfortable with yourself, and often you have to do a lot of introspective thinking and decision making.  You can’t ask for advise, no one can answer most of the important questions for you.  When you need the company of other people, you need to teach or take classes or workshops.  Art is the ultimate ME-time.

speaking about art

One of our members was nervous about speaking to a group of other artists about her work.  She was most nervous about the fact that she is working towards developing the techniques and skills she needs to fulfill her voice, but feels she isn’t there yet.  I think that when artists listen to other artists, they want to hear about the inspirations, the frustrations, the goals–the successes and the failures.  It is helpful to understand other artists’ process in order to help us establish our own.  And remember, especially when talking to other artists–they are on your side.  They don’t want you to fail, they just want to hear you talk.  The audience is your ally, not your enemy.

artist statements

This did not come up in the discussion on Monday, but is directly related to the topic just above.  Artists are often asked when their work is accepted into a show to provide an artist statement–which produces panic in many.  An artist statement is what you would tell someone standing next to you in a gallery looking at your work.  It isn’t art in its own right; it need not be poetry or use flowery language.  It is an opportunity to give others some additional information that will help them understand what you were going for, what you were thinking, what you want them to see in the work.  Talk about your influences; the process or materials that may be different from how others work; what was your goal, were you trying to make a statement?  (Not all art makes a statement, some is just expression.)  I have a short version and a long version of my artist statement saved on the computer so that it is ready when I need it.  I may tweak it for a particular venue or purpose, but it is basically there and ready to go.  There is nothing “personal” in it, I don’t talk about where I live, where I went to school, what I studied; I make no mention of my family.  I don’t think it is even relevant to mention who you have studied with or whose workshops you have taken.  This is about why you do what you do, and what you want the viewer to look for in your work.

So what should you take away from all this seemingly unrelated jibberish today?  You need to listen to your inner voice and follow what it tells you to do.  Whether it is in finding your voice, working on a particular piece, finding and maintaining the motivation to keep working, artist statements or speaking to others.  The simple thing to remember is to be true to yourself.

And, please let me hear from you.  Post comments, send me photos of your work.  Making art may be a solitary activity but blogging doesn’t need to be.  I want to hear from you and see what you are doing.  Share with me!

And because I always think blog posts with pictures are more interesting than those without, I am closing with two pictures from yesterday’s beautiful snowstorm (beautiful because I did not need to go out in it!).  First, my favorite tree:

and the bench on my front stoop, with blown snow on it:

In my continuing quest to move forward, I have completed the first stage of a second piece.  The new direction I want to explore is faces with little or no background; and the pieces are smaller–they will be about 10″ square when quilted and squared off–in an attempt to get big impact in a little piece.  Many art quilters strive to work larger, but I am finding my comfort zone is getting smaller and easier to handle.  One of the reasons for this is that I want to focus more on the quilting and I can do more elaborate and intricate stitching on a smaller piece.

Here you can see the face and her arms complete.  I tried several colors for her hair, feeling that her skin tone is far from representational and the hair need not be so literal, but only this color looked right.  This is the stage where little details mean a lot.  I did not like the edge of her face, so made that darker; and needed to find the right fabrics for both her clothing (which will show just a bit on the edge) and the blanket on which she is leaning.

The blue in the corner is unexpected, but I think it brings some life to the otherwise somber palette.  I plan to do a few of these and then do the quilting at the same time.  For me, it is easier to focus on one change at a time, and since these are small, they will have not wait for too long.

Critiques:

On another note, often readers of my blog and/or book “Photo-inspired Art Quilts” email me to ask my opinion about something they are working on or have just completed.  This is what I do in my monthly art quilt workshop–help guide my students along when they have problems or questions.  Even when the work being reviewed belongs to someone else, it helps everyone learn to see the problems and the possible solutions.

For this reason, I am offering my blog readers the opportunity to submit photos of pieces they are working on, or have completed, for a review on this blog.  You must be willing to let me share it here so that others can learn from it.  You can send me a Jpeg at Leni@leniwiener.com and I will post your photo and my comments.