What ever happened to those daily practices?

This is a sheepish post, and not just because it's about things made with wool yarn.  (yuk-yuk)

With some fanfare I announced to the world in January that I would undertake two daily practices this year:  1) a tapestry diary in which I work through the techniques in Mette Lise Rössing's book The Thread's Course in Tapestry and 2) a perpetual journal of botanical drawings, inspired by Lara Gastinger (@laragastinger and #lgperpetualjournal on Instagram).

I have done OK with the tapestry diary, but I haven't woven every day by any means.  So far I've done 39 techniques in about 100 days.  At this point, here's where it stands.  I chose to work in the wintry palette of northern New Mexico for the first quarter of the year.  I'm looking forward to updating the palette with a few yellow-greens soon.  They are starting to appear, oh so slowly, here.

Molly Elkind, tapestry diary in progress, (c) 2019

 I knew that with my teaching schedule and life intervening in general that I wouldn't weave every day, and that's fine.  Eventually I will finish.  The tapestry diary is supposed to be fun, in my book, not homework.  I had an aha moment when I realized that at the end of the year I'd like to be able to connect each technique in the book to its bit of weaving in the tapestry, so that I can use the diary and the book as references.  So I took a photo of the weaving so far, printed it out life-size, and cut out each little daily bit and glued it right into the book (gasp!).

page of Rössing's The Thread's Course in Tapestry, with my cut-and-pasted additions

I've always liked the idea of making my own textbook and this certainly makes Rössing's excellent book even more useful for me.

As for the second daily practice, the perpetual journal, I did start it with great enthusiasm, but then, it was winter.  Winter went on and on.  And on.   It was harder to get outside and find things to bring in to draw.  And meanwhile life got very very busy.  So while I've enjoyed very much seeing what other people are drawing in their perpetual journals on Instagram, mine has been stalled here.  I hope to get back to it, really I do.

bent stalk of gramma grass

It's about priorities, isn't it?  And my main focus these days is making work for the upcoming Eldorado Studio Tour May 18-19, here in Eldorado, New Mexico, near Santa Fe.  I'm hoping to have three pieces in my series of wedge weave skies, and another three pieces in the new Fences series, in addition to work from last year's show in Atlanta.

Virga, (c) Molly Elkind, 2019.  Cotton.  7.25" x 9.25" 

I had great news last week--one of the wedge weave skies, Virga, has been accepted to the Small Expressions show sponsored by Handweavers Guild of America.  So while it won't be available for the Studio Tour, it will get to travel a bit.  I guess I'd better get back to the loom. . . .

Small Expressions 2018: Juried Small Format Fiber

While attending Convergence in Reno I had the chance to view HGA's annial juried exhibit of small format work called Small Expressions.   (Last week I wrote about the American Tapestry Alliance's unjuried small format show limited to tapestry; this is a different exhibit.)  Work could not exceed 15" in any dimension, and had to use one or more fiber techniques.  Virginia Vogel juried the show this year and as in the past, works that broke with conventional fiber practice were prominent.  Pieces by 28 artists from all over the world were selected.  (While I have been selected for this show in the past, I did not enter this year.)

The exhibit was on view in the Wilbur D. May Museum and beautifully displayed in a white gallery of just the right, intimate size for such a show.  I found myself drawn, especially in retrospect, to the works which departed from the expected and which had relief or three-dimensional aspects.

This piece, Reflection, by Rebecca L. Smith won First Place.  Rebecca makes the wedge weave technique her own by incorporating seed beads and by using wire to shape the piece into a relief at least an inch deep.

Rebecca L. Smith, Reflection, 12" x 12".  wool, other fibers, seed beads, wire

Rebecca L. Smith, detail Reflection

While this piece by Jenny Schu entitled Leaf Me Alone 1 also incorporates seed beads, I was captivated by the expert weaving of text in different fonts, even backwards text.

Jennifer Schu, Leaf Me Alone 1, 10" x 15", hand-dyed rayon, glass seed beads

Jennifer Schu, detail  Leaf Me Alone 1

(Apologies that the color in the detail shot is off; the first photo is more accurate.)

This piece called text and manuscripts to mind in an abstract way.  It's Silences, #4 by Julie Lambert, woven of paper thread.  I love the simple elegance of this work, the way in which the materials and technique carry the entire weight of the design and concept.  It's beautifully displayed, but I wish I could tell whether it is bound in the center like a book or is a scroll.

Julie Lambert, Silences, #4, 15" x 4", paper thread

Julie Lambert, detail Silences, #4,

I was fascinated to study Deanna Deeds' piece Dialogue, woven of cotton and nylon filament, trying to figure out how it was done.  It seems to me to be an investigation into the very nature and structure of weaving.

Deanna Deeds, Dialogue, 15" x 15", cotton, nylon filament

Deanna Deeds, detail  Dialogue

As I write this I'm noticing I--and perhaps the juror--have a bias toward relief and 3D work.  In her tapestry Abstract Earth, Penny Collins expertly handles shading so that there is a teasing, now-you-see-it, now-you-don't illusion of depth when one steps back.  What seems to be a flat surface hints at topographical relief.

Penny Collins, Abstract Earth, 13" x 13", wool, cotton

Penny Collins, detail, Abstract Earth

Finally, two fully three-dimensional pieces showed that fiber can be every bit as sculptural as other, sturdier materials.  In this piece of crumpled handwoven fabric Jessica Pinsky has frozen a momentary gesture--of frustration?  Weaving can do that to a person!

Jessica Pinsky, Anxiety Series 1, 11" x 8", silk warp, cotton weft, resin

Jessica Pinsky, detail Anxiety Series 1

Aviva Peres,  Double Reason to Celebrate,
8" x 8", vintage cotton, vegetal stiffener, wire thread

Aviva Peres,  Double Reason to Celebrate

This piece truly does feel like a celebration, with its coils and tendrils exploding in all directions.  I love how it looks so different from different angles.  There are continuing surprises and discoveries for the eye to make.

Wherever you are this summer, I hope you have the chance to take in some exciting art! 

HGA's Small Expressions exhibit: Yep, more innovation

I've been sharing with you some of the work I saw in Milwaukee in connection with Convergence. The Handweavers Guild of America sponsors a biennial show entitled Small Expressions for fiber work under 15" in any direction.  This year it was on view at the Milwaukee Art Museum.

The Milwaukee Art Museum's Burke Brise Soleil winged sunscreen, designed by Santiago Calatrava.  

When we left the "wings" had closed and wedding parties were taking turns getting photos. 

This museum is a destination in itself, for its spectacular architecture and for its wonderful collection of modern art, the Mrs. Harry L. Bradley Collection.

But our first stop was to see Small Expressions.  I was struck by how each artist pushed her materials beyond their usual scope and modes of expression.  As I saw in ATA's unjuried small tapestry show, the small format seems to encourage risk-taking and inventiveness.

Tapestry weaver Rebecca Smith used wire and beads as well as yarn to create a woven relief that pulls you in close to explore changes in surface detail.

Rebecca Smith, Tapestry Relief, tapestry and bead weaving, 8 x 11 x 1"

Kelsey Leib transformed wool and wood into this trompe l'oeil bouquet.  

Kelsey Leib, Ghost, wet felting, 10 x 6 x 3"

As a former paper maker and occasional shibori dyer, I marveled at Barbara Chappell's relief piece made from linen paper yarn.  The restrained color palette allows the fine pleated textures to take the starring role.  What sort of spectacular butterfly emerged from this gorgeous cocoon?

Barbara Chappell, Entwined, handwoven, shibori pleated, sculpted, 7 x 6 x 2"

I studied this next piece for quite awhile, trying to determine how weaver Genevieve Moisan had incorporated brocade and mohair so seamlessly.  What fantastical narrative is unfolding here, between the hatted figure and the bird-woman?

Genevieve Moisan, Dark, brocaded Jacquard weaving, mercerized cotton, black mohair, orlec, muslin,
wooden stretcher, 12 x 15 x 1"

Here you can zoom in a bit to see the brocade weave in the ground.  I'm sorry the photo resolution is not as fine as it could be.

Genevieve Moisan, Dark, detail

My personal favorite, though, was this piece that surprised me by combining broken crockery and crocheted wire.

Mirva Kuvaja, Archeology, freeform crochet, copper wire, found porcelain pieces, 8 x 8 x 1"

Old broken dishes can be a well-worn path to easy sentimentality.  But the artist has left the shards as shards, rather than trying to crochet them back into some kind of wholeness.  They seem to have sunk to the bottom of their background in a random way that suggests the way they may have been found on the ground.  The small-scale intricate crochet, carefully fitted to each broken piece, seems like a tender act of mending/embellishment to me.

I see that in almost every case here I have focused on the artist's inventive use of materials, her innovative technique.  Fiber is a medium obsessed with materials, their textures and colors and malleability, so it is natural for us to be drawn first to these.  And yet I am always preaching to my students not to focus on technique alone, but to be sure they have something to say, that their image and concept are worth the viewer's time and attention.  Surprising use of materials may grab our attention at the outset, but visual delight and engaging ideas and stories will keep us looking.  In this I think these artists have succeeded as well.  What do you think?