Leni Wiener

I was so upset to hear today that a dear friend, and talented art quilter, Denise Bradley has passed.  I have known Denise for many years, since she first took one of my classes, and also helped test instructions on my first book.  I have always known that Denise had health problems, and that especially during the winter limited her outings.  But this information came as a real shock to me.

Although we did not see each other in person too often, Denise and I communicated regularly by email.  I knew recently she was having another health problem but never knew how serious it was.  Denise was always upbeat and positive, a truely wonderful person.

My sincere sympathy to her family, her two sons of whom she was so proud, and her friends.  She will be missed.

Yesterday I had a much needed “vacation” even if it was only for one day.  We started in Hudson, NY, a charming town with a beautiful collection of amazing buildings that is one of the surprises of the Hudson Valley.  Many of the buildings are being restored, mostly, it seems, by NYC transplants or weekenders.  I took TONS of photos, but most of them I am not going to share with you, as they will become the base for my art going forward.  I have enough to work from for months!  But these I will share:

Warren Street runs for a mile through the town and to the river, and Hudson has lots of antique shops, art galleries, restaurants, and the waterfront, making it a wonderful place to walk around on a gorgeous summer day.

From Hudson it is only a short drive to Olana, the fabulous home of Hudson River School 19th Century landscape painter Frederic Church.  Unfortunately, the house is closed on weekends.  (Closed on weekends??!!  can you imagine?).  The outside is amazing, very Moroccan;

A return trip during the week when I can see the inside is a must.  I loved this bench on the grounds, definitely on my list of things I would love to make but will probably never have the time…

But the real star of the estate is the view.  I can’t imagine living in this spot and NOT being a landscape painter!  And I can only imagine it is even better from the upstairs rooms in the house;

Another short hop to Rhinebeck, a great little town that is no longer a secret since Chelsea Clinton got married there a few weeks ago.  Walked around some more, took more great pictures for potential artwork, and had dinner in a restaurant we have enjoyed on past visits to Rhinebeck (and where, we were told, Bill Clinton had lunch a few days before the wedding).

Great day.

A new show premiered last night, I watched it today when I had time.  It is called Work of Art: the next great artist. HA!  I guess I should have had low expectations, after all, this is a show that appeals to the average American who probably knows nothing about art and would actually believe the work produced on this show is art.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

An interesting idea, on the heels of shows like project runway and top chef, and others that pit talented people (or purportedly talented people) against each other for recognition.  Too bad, that in NYC the producers just couldn’t find ten truly talented undiscovered artists.  Too bad they went for the schlock-mongers instead.

Don’t get me wrong, some of these artists do seem to have talent and potential, but most were probably chosen because the viewing public would think they were controversial and oh-so artsy.  I have seen high school art that is as good as, or better than some of the art on this show so far.

Interesting, that in this seemingly diverse group of artists (or what should be diverse so that we can see the same challenge from different points of view) were mostly representational painters.  Don’t get me wrong, who am I to criticize representational art!!??  But why no sculptors, no abstract impressionists, no one with a different perspective?  With so many kinds of art, so many genres, so much potential, they took the low road.  I can hear the meeting–”Let’s assume that the average viewer is completely ignorant, has never set foot in a museum or gallery, and never will.  What should we give this viewer?”  And what did they give us–clown paintings and “pussy portraits”  How banal.  I guess they decided to give this viewer representational art because otherwise they would be sitting in their living rooms asking “what the hell is that?!”  Why not raise the bar and educate?  But like all TV instead they LOWER the bar to appease the beer guzzling coach potato who says “hey look, this must be art ‘cuz I don’t understand it.”

The most artistic aspect of this show was the photography of the artists as they addressed the camera.  Beautifully lit and expressively capturing the faces against interesting backgrounds.  The highpoint for me.

Maybe they will surprise us, maybe the artists will be given some feedback that will really enlighten viewers with some art education, and maybe a real artist will actually emerge.  The idea of the first challenge was a good one–produce a portrait of one of the other artists in 12 hours (why do all these shows think that we want to see what they can accomplish if they rush?  I would like to see what they can do if they have  a little time to plan and execute–I don’t mean give them a week, but give them ample time to execute something worth executing).  But rushing around all stressed and panicked seems to make better TV, as does the conflict of difficult personalities, which the opening episode promises for the future with a cast of basket cases.

One thing that struck me is the arrogance of youth.  Art quilters, and other artists I know of about my age (I am not giving anything away, but I remember the Beatles when they were new and they were young!) are filled with self-loathing and self-doubt.  They never think their work is good enough (despite the fact that it often is).  But the young “artists” on this show were overflowing with confidence, even arrogance, about their work and their artistic careers.  (I have underwear older than some of their “careers”.)  I guess actually working as an artist sucks all the arrogance and confidence out of you, and what is left is the raw uncertainty about what you do and whether it has value.  Perhaps it is this very nakedness that allows a real artist to express their inner feelings and create art that is either vulnerable or powerful–or both.

Many of these artists talked the talk, but when we saw the work it just didn’t match the promise of the description (reminds me of some artists I have met).  We shall see what future episodes of this wishy washy show have in store for us.

So ends my rant for today!  Tell me what you thought…

I decided to share with you the mess of stuff that lives in the studio and inspires me on a daily basis.  This may look like a jumble of nonsense to someone else, but these are the things that inspire me.  And what and why they inspire may not always be what they appear to be.

Antique textiles and clothing (the more ethnic, the better.)  This is just one example.  It is an antique Greek vest that my Aunt Myrna bought me for my birthday while the whole family was in Greece many years ago.  I used to actually be small enough to wear it (it looked fabulous over a long black gown) but those days are long gone.  I also have a hand embroidered wedding coat from Turkmenistan that is lined in a variety of mismatched cotton floral fabrics; a handmade crewel piece made by my friend’s mother in law (who she would rather forget so I got the crewel), what was probably meant to be a table runner from somewhere in Eastern Europe (it, like so many of my treasures, came from a tag sale from people who had no idea what it was) and a hand embroidered apron (also from a tag sale) from Portugal that looks like it was meant for the tourist trade around the 1920’s.

I love antique hand work–not because it inspires me to do like work, but because it reminds me of the enormous creative talent and drive to create that exists in all cultures, whether or not the women who created it consider it art, or consider themselves artists.

Below it there is a painting by my son aged about seven.  Children’s art (and I have lots in my house and in the studio) is so free, so unencumbered by notions of what looks good, what will get into a show or what will sell.  That reminds me that great art need not be over worked or over thought and should be spontaneous and expressive.

Here is jumble #1.  Click on it to see it larger and therefore in greater detail.  There is a wealth of stuff in here, much of it fashion photography.  I love fashion photography for two reasons–either I want to copy the clothing (but rarely have the time) or I like the way the model is standing or the way the light is on her.  But mostly I just like the clothing.

There are also photos of other things that I really like, landscapes and cityscapes, and pictures of artwork.  The artwork pictures are not because they are things I want to copy–they are things like the group at the top right of abstracts that remind me about composition, or the one next to it that reminds me to have more fun with color, instead of always working with my usual palatte.

Mixed in are bits and pieces of ribbon, of fancy trims, all things that I love to look at but don’t use in my work.  There is also the first leaf I ever thread painted (not my best, but my first) and a little challenge quilt I made with my Monday Art Quilt Group of a cupcake with the cream center showing.  Just ‘cuz it is fun, and I didn’t know what else to do with it!

Jumble #2 is the board over the sewing machine, more mishmash, but look closer.  More photos that I love–that one in the center with the view through three beautiful windows is a postcard I purchased in England when we lived there more than 30 years ago–I don’t throw anything out if it inspires me!  I just noticed that the fashion photo postcard at the top is also on my other wall-I guess I really liked it, I bought it twice.  Mostly I think I would like to be able to wear it, or even have somewhere to wear it to.  You can also see a photo of my favorite door in Montreal (used in my stairs piece) and some postcards of mid century modern artwork that also remind me to let loose, free myself and create more spontaneously.

Also mixed in are some organic shapes that I drew in pencil (years ago) that I use as inspiration when I do quilting; a “necklace” of wooden beads that my son made me when he was five; my pass from the Taiwan Quilt Exhibit (come on, that is too cool to throw out); and at the bottom is a little pin cushion from somewhere (don’t remember) that is hand embroidered and I received as a gift when I was a young child.  If it is hand embroidered, I don’t let it go–ever!

Just to the side of the sewing machine, some sketches that I wanted to save; Modigliani–who reminds me to be more creative and less structured and tied to photo-realism; a self portrait by my son to remind me to lighten up and loosen up, and a pencil sketch of my favorite childhood teddy bear.  Next to it (cut off in the photo) is the poster from my show last year in Boston “Clay Cloth Connection.”

So, what inspires you?

Some things just go together naturally:  Fred and Ginger, cheese and crackers, thunder and lightening.  Yesterday we went to the Storm King Art Center to enjoy two other things that go beautifully together–sculpture and landscape.

Storm King is a 500 acres site that is home to about 150 sculptures at any given time (the collection changes) and takes full advantage of the interplay of environment and art.

Many of the pieces are large scale, metal sculptures (hard to see but there is a man and child in the right side of this frame) and some are more intimately integrated into the landscape:

There are hills:

and meadows.

some of the work is environmental, like Maya Lin’s wavefield, a mesmerizing work of waves created in man-made (or should I say woman-made) hills and grass:

and the beautiful Storm King wall constructed of stone that meanders in and out of a pond, and around the trees along the hill overlooking the water.

Some of the pieces work with the landscape:

and others make the landscape part of the art.

Art in an outdoor environment is more intimate than art in a gallery or museum, as it invites involvement and interaction from the viewer:

The other nice thing about outdoor sculpture is the unexpected visions as the art interacts with the environment:

In the case of Storm King Art Center, even the grass is artfully mowed to create interesting vistas and changes of height and color:
Unlike art indoors, the art in sculpture gardens is constantly changed by the weather and season.  Many of the pieces at Storm King are kinetic (my favorite) and in yesterday’s steady breeze they put on a beautiful show.

I took lots more pictures, but as some are destined to become art of mine, I won’t share them with you just yet.

Go look at a sculpture garden near you.  A wonderful way to enjoy a beautiful day, get some exercise and see some art.  Win win win!

There seems to be a strong connection between quilting and gardening; most quilters are lovers of flowers who joyfully spend hours digging in the dirt planting and weeding.  I am not one of those quilters.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the tranquility of nature, am awed by the many varieties of plants and flowers, but I am not a get down in the dirt kind of girl!  For me there are two types of plants in the world–those that make me sneeze and those that don’t.

However, in an attempt to rescue the outside of our house from looking like an outpost in the Tunisian desert, we hired a landscape designer, a very talented man named Robert Welsh (Westover Landscaping) who transformed our yard into a spectacular oasis.  The work was done last summer, but the real results are showing off this year with everything blooming and exploding in size.

So for those of you who love the beauty and tranquility of nature, here is my garden:

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.

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.

Getting down to the knitty-gritty, I have made the small changes I identified yesterday and darkened the eyebrows, cleaned up the chin and added some dark to the lower corner of her face.

This is looking better, now I want to audition more backgrounds.  I liked the way the white looked in terms of value, but did not want to repeat it.  Although the back side of the golden fabric was ok, I didn’t want to settle for ok, so I decided to look at some light gray fabrics.

This is a fabric I love that looks like newspaper.  I like the idea of this, as it gives the viewer something to think about, and it works, so it is a strong contenter.

As soon as I looked at this fabric, I knew it was the one.  I love the graphic quality, the way it relates to the other fabrics in the face, the value (which is white but not so white), and the vertical lines which serve to draw the eye up and down–in the same way the magenta does.  This is the one.  Just like love, you may not know what you are looking for, but you know it when you see it!

Obviously, there is still the functional sewing and the quilting/finishing.  But I wanted to talk here about naming your work.  The title you give your artwork tells the viewer what you want them to focus on when looking at the piece.  But if you give them all the answers, there is nothing left for them to interpret, which means they look at it, nod, and walk on.  I like to encourage them to stand in front of the piece and decide for themselves what they are seeing.  For that reason, I choose a title that is a bit ambiguous–and intriguing.  Nothing makes me happier than to see people in front of my work discussing what is happening or what it is about.  That means they are engaged, drawn into the artwork, and that it has touched them on a deeper level than “oh, that’s nice.”

I could call this piece something like “sadness” which is what I see in her face.  But facial expressions are more complex than that, and I want the viewer to see in it their own life experience, so I don’t want a title that defines it for them.  I thought about “blue lady” (a double entendre since she is blue) but that also means sadness, so the result is the same.  Since I thought that shape that flows from the eye to the lips was the most intriguing shape in the face (and the reason I set it out in another color) I thought about calling the piece “magenta” but decided that means nothing, so rejected that one as well.  Then I thought about “Jagged” which is how that shape looks to me.  Jagged can also suggest raw emotion, allowing the viewers to decide for themselves what the jagged emotion is, so I like that.  Looking up jagged on Thesaurus.com, I found some other words that might work, one of which is “broken”.  I like the idea of broken, it can suggest a broken heart, something else in her life that seems “broken” and is ambiguous enough that it leaves lots of options for the viewer.  So at least for now, that is the tentative title.

On another note, I am thrilled that Quilting Arts Magazine has included my article “Figures in Fabric” in their Feb/March 2010 issue.  Please check it out!

After evaluating the changes that needed to be made on the current piece, I went back to my stash to pull the fabrics I was going to try.

Here you can see the seven fabrics I have chosen–white is number one and the dark blue with the dots is number seven.  There is a more gradual change from each value to the next, with no real big leaps between any two.  The first three fabrics have remained the same from my failed attempt; number four is the back of a tie dye blue that was very dark, but just the right value on the back.  Number five is a wild card, I love the fabric (the purple with the lighter blue specks in it) but cannot be sure if it is too “out there” yet.  The number six fabric, the one with the swirls on it is perfect for that section around the right eye where I wanted a zinger with a lot of fluid movement.  The final one is a dark that still has some interest.

So here she is reworked.  This is coming along much better than before.  It still needs tweaking, but I feel that I am more on the right track.  What has changed:

The colors are on a single path from light to dark.  Even though there is some movement between blues and blue purples, there is no more of that red violet that was throwing everything else off.  I still love those fabrics together, so I will use them in another piece.  It is always important to remember that you can’t get every idea into every single piece.

The values are more contiguous.  Here the fabrics flow more gradually from light into dark, with no big leaps from one to the next, and allowing the lighter side to be less contrasty (but still enough) from the darker side.

The eyes show now.  In the last incarnation, the eyes were lost, but now they are much more important to the overall composition, adding the drama that the first attempt lacked.

Finally, that speckly fabric that I wasn’t sure was going to work–I think that maybe it does work.  It has a lot of movement, and it becomes even more of a zinger than the number six fabric (which was intended to be the zinger) but I think it makes the whole piece kind of interesting.  Not a “texture” that one would normally associate with skin (it looks like really bad acne) but I think it makes this much more of an artistic interpretation than a realistic portrait.  So, at least for now, it stays.   But nothing is set in stone until everything is in place and I can evaluate it all.  Then I can confidently glue the pieces in place and move forward.

Where do I go from here?  First of all, that swirly fabric (#6) around the eye and down the side of the nose to the lips doesn’t look right to me.  I had thought that using those swirly lines in a vertical position would draw the eye up and down the composition.  But now that I am looking at it, I think I will try re-cutting that piece so that the lines run horizontally and then compare it both ways.  This is when it is great to have a digital camera, so that I can make the change and then look at them side by side to see which I like best.  Even when you look at this image on the screen now, step back from the computer or squint your eyes and the image appears as it would across the room in a gallery space.  If you don’t have a digital camera (get one, they aren’t expensive anymore) you can use the back end (the reducing side) of binoculars to get an idea of what the piece looks like if you step way back.

Then I want to relook at the right side of the face, where the highlights are not quite working for me yet.  The same for the bottom under the chin.  Both of these may just be waiting for the hairline and the shape of the chin to be determined, so all of that will be evaluated at the same time.  Baby steps, but I am glad I did not just abandon it and start something else.  Slow and steady wins the race, remember?