What drew you to the fiber art medium over others?

Yours, mine, ours Vintage scarves 52 x 31 inches 2020 — *Yours, mine, ours*
Vintage scarves
52 x 31 inches
2020

I’m a painter who fell in love with vintage scarves a handful of years ago. In my paintings, I accumulate and connect visual fragments that don’t necessarily go together. In the scarf and knit tapestries, I can create a similar kind of lopsided logic and visual fluidity between parts. During COVID time, I started using vintage afghans and throws, adding crocheted passages to both disrupt and connect to create something new. Sewing and crocheting are similar to painting: all allow me to work responsively to adjust and manipulate existing relationships. On a sensory level, I love the way the vintage scarves feel in my hands—silky, delicate, and so light—and the way the vintage knit pieces actually warm me as I work with them in my lap.

Originally, these found textiles created beauty, comfort, and ornamentation for the home and body. All connect to the story of American womanhood over the past century—its ambiguities, distinctiveness, and power, the latter often self-made despite discrimination and adversity. I respond to the way each vintage textiles has a distinctive visual and tactile identity, cultural and historical residue, and an actual history, the specifics of which can only be imagined. Often these textiles are stained, ripped or frayed. For me, the designs and colors are exquisite; but I am more interested in the way combining the textiles creates a complex hybridity of beauty, imperfections, and the passage of time. Repurposing items to create new works is a way to reevaluate the aesthetic poignancy of everyday craft impulses, historically undervalued by the art world. Recycling items also brings notice to systems in place that devalue, reuse and grow old.

Badass 29 x 25 inches Vintage doll blanket and crocheted yarn 2020 — *Badass*
29 x 25 inches
Vintage doll blanket and crocheted yarn
2020

What has surprised you about your art practice since the Shelter in Place order?

There were many surprises. The uncertainty and isolation of quarantining let me dig deeply into my practice without the usual interruptions despite my apprehension about what was happening in the world. I had created the scarf tapestries for a few years, but I had long wanted to work with vintage knit pieces to continue to make “soft paintings” in another medium. Because teaching full-time and painting usually take up most of my time, I kept putting off figuring out how to do that. But between sheltering-in-place and a Guggenheim year off from teaching at RISD, I had time to teach myself to crochet by watching YouTube videos and trying out simple stitches. Crocheting, I quickly realized, is the most efficient way for me to connect together and add to old knitwork.

I shopped for vintage knit pieces on Etsy and Ebay and then ordered yarn on-line. What surprised me was the slightly eerie ease of getting information and materials. I was struck by the eccentric system I became a part of, a system fueled by a combination of hidden communities, desire, and entrepreneurialism that seems a little different from the more solitary activities and traditional procurement processes of my painting practice. Yet, it was truly interesting to engage in conversations with Ebay and Etsy sellers. Friends and acquaintances gave me scarves once they saw the tapestries and many of them shared stories about their mothers, grandmothers, and aunts who wore the scarves they gave me. The process of obtaining the materials for this new series of works connected it with this cultural moment (as well as my binge watching of all 6 seasons of Bosch while I worked, something that would have never happened if I had been painting).

Another surprise was the door that opened to the meditative power of crocheting, which gave me a sense of calm during this scary-crazy period. The last surprise was the relevance of the knit tapestries. In the context of COVID-19, they activate ideas about hominess, coziness, beautifying, and comfort as well as the need for warmth and care.

Describe the main differences of your 'old' studio to your 'Shelter in Place' studio.

She’s a rainbow 12’ 6” x 6’ Vintage afghans and crocheted yarn 2020 — *She’s a rainbow*
12’ 6” x 6’
Vintage afghans and crocheted yarn
2020

Until March, I painted in my studio which is a single car garage-sized space off of our single car garage and sewed in a room in our basement that originally was the “rec room” of our 1960s ranch house. During sheltering-in-place, I worked in more places: in the garage to work on spray-painted paintings using antique doilies to create patterns and overlay; in the living room to crochet; in the back yard with my iPad to work on digital images, and back to the basement room to sew and lay out scarves and knit pieces on the floor and on a series of folding tables. I felt like I was moving around the house and its outdoor space to find the most conducive light, working surface, and air flow for the activity at hand.

What non-art related activity do you do to invigorate your body/ mind?

I’ve always needed to spend at least a short amount of time outdoors each day. Ideally, I find time to take a walk in the woods near my house—to breathe fresh air and experience the play of air and light. The freedom to move in space and light parallels the freedom to improvise with color and shape in my work somehow.

What are you looking forward to doing again once Shelter in Place is over?

Travel. I had to return early from a residency at Bogliasco Foundation in Italy in March because of COVID 19 and a residency in Spain scheduled from May was canceled. Bogliasco is beautiful, and my studio was nestled in an olive grove with a view of the Ligurian Sea. I felt so lucky every single moment of my stay at the foundation. Being a residency fellow in another country is an amazing way to experience the people, geography, history, and culture of a particular place. When a vaccine is available and air travel is possible, I’m hoping to travel to Spain for a “redo.”

What advice would you give to other creatives at this moment in time?

Unlike painting which requires a dedicated studio space, sewing, crocheting and working digitally on my iPad have helped me feel productive at home. Expanding my practice to include these new mediums has also helped me identify the essential parts of my thinking and making that transcend my more developed painting and drawing practice. Feeling clearer always feels good.

Even in the best of times, only a rarified handful of artists have the space, time, support, and assistance they need to make new work. In some ways, there might be more empathy now for the variety of lives artists lead as caregivers, parents, employees, etc. Perhaps it’s good to take solace in a greater understanding of the complexities of the time we live in. We are all trying to navigate the constant demand of multi-tasking, the steady drip of alarming news, and the need to quickly respond to texts, emails, and social media. Overlay all of the above by fear, anxiety, and what I consider a sense of collective PTSD, and perhaps there’s more appreciation for the way artists continue to be creative.