Red Thread Studio

A Storyteller's Story Up at HandEye

A Storyteller's Story, my profile of Jude Hill of Spirit Cloth, is up at HandEye Magazine online, complete with a slideshow of Jude's wonderful work. Keith Recker, who is publishing, editing, and doing much of the writing for HandEye, was terrific to work with, and I hope to do more for this exciting and ambitious new publication. And if you become a Facebook fan of HandEye, Keith posts fascinating and relevant links just about every day for people interested in art, craft, culture, and environmental issues. 

I called myself an "explorer" in my author bio, because I thought I was going to be in northern Brazil for Thanksgiving -- I was invited to give a talk on sustainable and organic textiles -- and was feeling very Global Textile Explorer-ish when I wrote it. But no, I'll be here at home after all. I had a disorienting moment of "How can you be in two places at once when you're not anywhere at all," as Firesign Theater once said, and realized that the trip was simply untenable at this time. So instead I'll have a few lovely days off to be an artist and maker, and do lots of yoga and dance and reading and planning. And I ordered this embroidered linen fabric from PurlSoho to make some curtain panels and a pillow or two:

Lovely, yes? It's made in India, and I've been coveting it for months.

Nothing Fits!

Whenever I seriously think about letting go of the blog I get a comment gift like the beautiful, and beautifully written, message from Mandi on this post. She wrote:

Sustainable is great, but to me the greatest joy in slow cloth is the deep involvement and passion for each step of the process. This is something that was lacking in my own work for a long time, and something that I don't see on the myriad of blogs I read. I was starting even to feel that I could never keep up with those energizer bunnies of creative sewing endeavors!

But after reading your statement on slow cloth I have realized that is why I feel so burned out! I was burned from trying to make so much so fast....to keep going and going like everyone else! It's overwhelming and uninspiring to say the least.

But today I cooked up a batch of rice paste resist and I will spend time carefully stenciling with it, instead of quickly silkscreening the same image, and I will take joy in the process of cutting more stencils and carefully working through each step in the layers of application. And I will know that for me and maybe for a few others it's enough to spend that time and care to create a few projects this year instead of a few each day or week.

That'll keep me going for a while. Thank you, Mandi. It's also a reminder to stay focused on topic. I will write again about the Significant Objects project next week - it was part of what I deleted yesterday but it'll return.

Over at Designboom.com, take a look at the paintings of Brazilian artist Delson Uchoa. I thought there was something very textile-ish about them, and indeed, the site says, " they are structured around formal principles that are a legacy of the constructivist-concrete tradition, incorporating motifs and techniques
taken from folk decoration, lace, embroidery and weaves that result in optical effects and fields." I think these layered, collaged works probably must be seen to be fully appreciated, but at least we can get a taste.

A bad side effect of the new job is that I seem to be gaining weight at an alarming rate. The sense that "nothing fits anymore" isn't just about my clothes; life also feels that way in general. Most of my space--car, apartment, location, wardrobe, the things that become an identity --was chosen or arrived because of life circumstances that have changed. Nothing fits anymore; it all certainly doesn't fit the global textile explorer/artist/thinker who inhabits and creates this blog. So I'm doing a lot of re-evaluating, trying to figure out what I need to stay healthy and be comfortable in my own skin. Last night I dreamed that I missed a design meeting because I had gone to talk to people from an old job; then I rushed home to change and none of my clothes fit! It's always funny when dreams are as literal as that. Yes, I'd like to be "bigger" than I am, but not literally, please, universe--can you hear me now?

Maybe Tuesday's big ol' new moon/solar eclipse that has all the astrologers buzzing will help. Until then, onward.

Another Use for Tulle: The Work of Ernesto Neto

Oh, how I love a good arty slideshow (much better than an online video for me, for some reason), especially when it details a truly original and wonderful art installation called Anthropodino that involves sewing, spices, stretch tulle, hand embroidery, lots of masculine/feminine dualities and a wild-haired Brazilian artist. The artist is Ernesto Neto and Ken Johnson wrote the review for the New York Times, with the juicy title of "Into the Embrace of a Great Spicy, Gauzy Mother." There are more details on the construction from "Hey, Drill This! Park Avenue Armory Goes Sci-Fi," by Randy Kennedy, whose text accompanies the slideshow.

Describing the piece as a "biomorphic sculpture," Kennedy says, "Made of hundreds of yards of stretched Lycra tulle, it looks something like a superfine spider web, laden with egg sacks, that has drifted down onto the skeleton of a forgotten species of dinosaur shaped like a cephalopod." Yet within this massive construction are yards and yards of hand-embroidered edging and fabric sacs full of spices acting as natural dye agents, letting rich reds and yellows and ochres seep into the tulle. And then there are bones, perhaps in the spirit of this Mineral Year. One young assistant, stitching underneath layers of tulle, said she felt like a silkworm. (the photo here is the martin margules family collection installation at the 49 biennale di venezia. photo: eduardo ortega, found at designboom.com)

Bloomberg also has an fascinating article on the installation, and you can see more pictures of Neto's work here. Neto has also collaborated with the Fabric Workshop and Museum in Philadelphia.

There's a whole school, it seems, of other-worldly Brazilian art constructions; when I worked at Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art, many years ago, we hosted an installation by Tunga, also from Rio de Janeiro, who worked with human hair (preferably on the heads of twins, and braided together) and lizards and copper wire. Tunga, known for brilliance in the global contemporary art world, and his assistants were as gentle and kind as could be; they were attitude-free, enjoying themselves as only Brazilians can, and very sweet to me, sending me postcards long after their stay in Chicago.

When I had the chance to visit Rio, these strange creations made sense. There are more than three dimensions in Brazil, and it's magical and dangerous and inexplicable and generous there. And very big, just as the works that these artists/shamans conjure.

I leave for Kansas City tomorrow for the Surface Design Association conference; look for blog posts.

Flowers and Felt

Arrrrrg . . . Typepad ate my post again. Maybe there's some kind of solidarity between Web sites, and it didn't like my critique of Facebook. Quickly, the highlights:

There's a great article and slideshow in the New York Times about this year's orchid show at the New York Botanical Gardens. This is not an old-lady orchid show, but plants as art, with a Brazilian Modern theme. Brazil is one of the most magical and creative places in the world, with contemporary art that challenges our imaginations, and a culture with roots in the natural world at its most extreme and powerful. I'm sure this plant show is something. 

Can't get there? The NYBG has a Flickr page with thousands of images of plants, flowers, birds, trees, and their Henry Moore sculptures. I'm partial to the voluptuous flowers. This is a great place for inspiration if you need a new shape or form to work with.

I've also been lingering at the site of felt artist Jigisha, found at Indian by Design. I haven't really jumped on the felt bandwagon, but this work is subtle and beautiful. Most pieces use the natural colors of the wool, but then there's this rug:

Back to work. The Big Project is almost done, then . . . . next week, taxes.