Blowing the lid off the tapestry box (part 1 of 2)

I've recently been mulling over the familiar metaphor of working "inside (or outside) the box" with regards to tapestry.  Last month I had the great pleasure of taking a week-long workshop with tapestry artist and art professor Rowen Schussheim-Anderson at the American Tapestry Alliance's retreat in Reno, Nevada.  I was excited by the promise of learning to use mixed materials and techniques, including collage (already one of my favorite approaches to design) in tapestry.  I am still excited and still exploring the possibilities.

It was fun to be introduced to so many new-to-me techniques, including weaving a window in the surface of the tapestry, adding novelty yarns, adding on surface embellishments such as wrapped and coiled pipe cleaners and bits of clothesline, and twining, crochet and beadwork techniques as part of the woven surface. Rowen told us our workshop weaving would not be a coherent work of art, and she was right, at least in my case.  It's a funky little thing, but it will be a good reminder to me of some of the things we tried.

Molly Elkind, mixed media sample from Rowen Schussheim-Anderson workshop, 2018.
That's my painted paper in the window.  

Speaking of funky little experiments, another thing we did was add large stitched marks to previous tapestries we may have done that we were not happy with.  I really liked the energy and added texture that stitches added to this very early tapestry of mine.  I'm definitely keeping this in mind for future work.

Molly Elkind, Pedernal study

We also did a number of sketchbook exercises including an approach to collage that I haven't tried before.  For me this involved enlarging a section of a topo map and using it as a template for a cut and pasted paper design.  I had always built up my collaged compositions intuitively on a blank sheet of paper, so this was a more challenging method.

Molly Elkind, paper collage from Rowen Schussheim-Anderson workshop, 2018

While I'm not sure the overall composition quite succeeds, I think some of these cropped details could make interesting small experiments. (To find them I cut 4x6" and 6x8" rectangles out of the center of sheets of white paper, forming makeshift frames.)

The most eye-opening thing for me about Rowen's workshop was simply being given permission to think outside the box, to let go of traditional notions of pure tapestry:  warp faced, using mostly wool wefts, perfectly flat and straight-edged.  My tapestry teachers up to now have been incredibly gifted practitioners of this traditional approach, and so I have worked within those parameters.  But I love the idea that a tapestry can itself be a collage, with various disparate and surprising elements layered and juxtaposed.  I've been saying to friends that Rowen's workshop "blew the lid off my traditional tapestry box."

Tune in next week to find out how my thinking did a 180 when I heard Irvin Trujillo's comments on working inside the box. 

Swedish death cleaning for artists

Have you heard of the concept called "Swedish death cleaning"?  It's not as grim as it sounds.  The idea is that you do your heirs a huge favor by purging and organizing your extraneous stuff before you die, so that they don't have to.  The best-selling book that popularized the concept refers to it as "a gentle art." The promise is that by stripping out the inessential you can live a more stress-free, clutter-free life.

It's especially hard for artists to purge artwork, I think, because of the emotional, aesthetic, and monetary value attached to the art we've accumulated.  The current, April/May issue of American Craft features a helpful article called Planning Your Legacy.  How do you  plan for what happens to your artwork after you're gone?

It's all been on my mind lately as Sam and I purge and pack in preparation for a move across the country.  He's been photographing and I've been working in various fiber media for over twenty years, so we've generated quite a bit of work ourselves.  And then there's the art we have purchased, and the art we've inherited.  It's a lot, far more than we can hang on the walls at any one time.  (We do try to rotate what's on the walls regularly.)  So now we're faced with one tough call after another about which works to move, and which to let go of.

Regarding my own work, I've done a variety of things.  Some pieces have been sold at a discount.

Ways of  Looking at Dodd Creek #7.  Mixed media collage
(c) Molly Elkind 14" x 14"

Ways of Looking at Dodd Creek #11.  Mixed media bead embroidery.
(c) Molly Elkind  14" x 18"

Cardinals.  Quilt (cotton).  (c) Molly Elkind 54" x 70"

Some work I've given away.

Ways of Looking at Dodd Creek #6.  Mixed media fabric collage.
(c) Molly Elkind 14" x 14" 

Some work I've dismantled, taken out of its frames and shadowboxes, and saved in a smaller, lighter format for future reference or as potential raw material for future work.

Streambed:  Glacier.  Mixed media embroidery.
(c) Molly Elkind 8.5" x 11"

Gaps in the Sky:  Carolina Parakeet. 
Mixed media collage. 
(c) Molly Elkind 25" x 35" x 4" 

Some pieces that I no longer like, I've discarded.  Thrown out.  Trashed.   Apologies here for some less than stellar photographs of this older work.

Ways of Looking at Dodd Creek #4.  Mixed media fabric collage.
(c) Molly Elkind 12" x 24" 

Basket Case:  Improvisation.  Quilt (cotton). 
(c) Molly Elkind 38.5" x 38.5"

The 9/11 piece below was easy to throw out because it had sat in a cardboard box in the corner of our humid Georgia basement for 15 years, and showed mildew when I took it out.  A cautionary tale!

Into the Whirlwind:  September 2001.  Mixed media fabric collage.
(c) Molly Elkind 84" x 43" x 3"

It may sound shocking but it's surprisingly liberating to throw away work you don't like any more.  I think it frees up psychic space for new work.  Not everything we make is precious.  Some of it was only work we had to do to get ready to make the next piece, or the one after that.

That said, I did keep some older work that I especially like.

Six Sketches #6.  Mixed media embroidery.
 (c) Molly Elkind 14" x 12"

Cathedral.  Handmade paper sculpture.
(c) Molly Elkind 17" x 9.5" x 10" 

I'm really curious what you all have done in this situation.  What are your strategies and criteria for dealing with your work when it piles up, or when you have to down-size?  Let us know in the comments.