A Day of Art

Sharing is part of the process that we call art, and today I got to share some of my art. Art as Quilt: Transitions in Contemporary Textile Media, a juried SAQA exhibit, opened at the Fuller Craft Museum Oct. 3 and today was the opening reception. The museum itself is a work of art nestled in woods next to a large pond south of Boston, and the show was well lit and well hung with enough space between works to allow viewers to focus on each one.

It's still a thrill to see people stop and spend time looking at my work.

And here is Spun Gold, one of my textured pieces without viewers:

There were many pieces worthy of attention at this show. The curators wanted to show the diversity of contemporary textile work and the works captured that diversity. Unfortunately, I relied on my phone for the photographs so several were too blurry to use and I apologize for the quality of some of these that I am including:

Dawn Allen and one of her striking three-dimensional flowers, Poppy II

Janis Doucette and one of her lively deconstructed screen printed pieces, Out of the Blue

Sharyn Raiche's dimensional Nexus (She used webs and it doesn't look like Halloween at all!)

The Myth of Meditation, a lovely piece with lots of hand stitching by Sharon McCartney

A wall shot, beginning with the largest, Flotsam and Jetsam by Rosemary Hoffenberg, then  Windows of Orvietto by Linda Gallagher, and Flowing by Jeanne Marklin

Another wall shot that shows a portion of Vessel of Life by Janice Jones, Tune in Turn on Dropcloth #4 by Sandra Donabed in the middle, and Crevices #9 by Valerie Maser-Flanagan

And many more--there is a total of 35 pieces in the show. One of the curators from the museum, who gave a talk at our SAQA regional meeting before the reception distinguished between art and craft by describing craft as focusing in on itself, its techniques and materials, but art opens out and speaks to something beyond itself. You could feel that happening in this show.

Not for the Faint of Heart

Warning: if you have an automatic flight reaction when you see a spider, just skip this post. I admit that a spider crawling on the bedroom wall at night must be taken care of or it takes me a long time to get to sleep, but I am also fascinated by these many legged creatures many of which create those endlessly metaphoric webs.

We have been favored with the presence of several large garden spiders around the back of the house this year who have created astounding webs across the back door and the deck door (on the outside of each, by the way!). I had watched one yesterday morning wrap up a yellow jacket for a later meal and I silently thanked it for removing one of those annoying creatures. I checked out its progress after lunch and discovered another much smaller spider approaching it and assumed that somehow their webs had crossed until I really looked and the little spider was thrumming the web with its front feet and setting up some kind of vibration that made the web strands holding the larger one move in a similar rhythm.

This went on for more than ten minutes with the little guy inching forward and then jumping back, all the time playing the web strands. Was this a mating ritual? Finally he moved very close, almost touching her but every time she started moving her legs he would jump back. 

No longer strumming, he kept trying to get up close and personal, but at the same time realizing that there were some real risks involved in this activity.

This approach and retreat went on for about ten minutes more. Like many great novels, however, the outcome of this story is ambiguous. I needed a cup of tea and ran the few feet to the kitchen to turn on the tea kettle and when I returned the little spider was gone. Had she eaten him?  I thought at least a few legs would still be visible if this had happened. Tom, who had also gotten involved, found the little guy on the deck floor, still alive but looking rather dazed. Had she knocked him off the web? Bitten him? We will never know if he successfully passed on his genes or what caused his fall. Subsequent research did verify that I was witnessing a mating ritual and often the male does not survive the experience.

And what does this have to do with fiber art? First of all, these were beautiful creatures with all their striped legs and patterned abdomens. And this does motivate me even more to try to weave a web into my work, since it is such a strong metaphor for interconnectedness, but the problem is that I have to do in such a way that it does not look like a Halloween decoration. I'm still working on that. But it also reminds me how important it is to look around--"You can observe a lot by just watching," said the Yogi.

And just as a final note, here is some spider art created by a spider with a little help from the wind outside my dyeing studio door--under the deck:

The actual spider is in the center a little toward the top.

And, if you're still hanging in there, thanks for the company--and happy early Halloween!

Another MA First

What better way to spend a crisp fall day than creating some color--and that's what I and two other adventurous spirits did this week, as I introduced them to the art of dyeing. It was the first class I taught since our move to Massachusetts and a bit of an initiation for my basement dye studio, a perfect size for me and for me and a friend as I found out this summer, but I wanted to see if it would work with more. I had planned some patio work that would have given us all some more room but the coolness of the day kept us inside and we managed to negotiate the space without any toes being stepped on and only a couple of stray drops of color falling on the wrong place.

We were all exhausted but still smiling by the end of the day and they went home with a full five-step gradation in one color, rinsed, washed, and partially ironed and several containers each that would sit quietly overnight and reveal their delights the next day.