Silly me. I was on a roll with my 60cm x 40cm entry piece for the Oceania Distance and Diversity cal, and well into the business of stitching my chosen Aussie motifs by hand; but I allowed myself to just get little bit of a start on my next Pandemic Pattern piece and as a result lost my concentration. Christmas and New Year came and went before I focused on it again… and when I picked it up to resume a few days ago, I saw lots of things ‘wrong’ with it – things I no longer like about it, and additionally, and in the meantime a new approach had taken root. Reluctantly I abandoned it and with determination decided to start again from scratch.
As I worked on a little landscape design in Richard McVetis’ workshop, it occurred to me that I could have fused all those little landscape pieces rather than piece them, setting them slightly apart so that some of the background shows through.
10cm x 10cm landscape, done in Richard McVetis StitchClub workshop, 2020.
I reasoned it wouldn’t take long to start again, so I abandoned what I’d already done and made a new sample using this approach, left, including some possible edge markings that I still haven’t finally decided on. Just this bit of experimenting tells me I’ll have a result I’ll be happier with. and it has to be soon – entries close at the end of January 🙂
Sample left – variety of markings at edges and hand drawn motifs. The landscape on the right is one from the abandoned work.
There are some fabrics steeping in a strong tea bath to dull their bright whiteness.
I’ve sprayed some new sky fabric
The background will now be black instead of blue.
I’ve checked my range of marker pens online for fastness and suitability for fabric.
I decided to hand draw the detail motifs I want.
Pandemic Pattern 3’s on hold while I wait for more thread which was gobbled up far faster than I expected, and I need much more to complete the rather large plan I have, as I’m definitely not going to make the work smaller.
It’s always interesting to look back occasionally and see how things including my views, issues and fashions/fads have changed. In April 2005 I wrote on this blog “When Is A Quilt Not A Quilt?”, raising an issue I still have a problem with: that there seems to be no lower size limit for an object to be called ‘a quilt’.
When a piece of quilted textile is so small as 1″ / 2.5cm inchies or 6′ x 4″/15cm x 10cm postcard quilts, to me it feels ridiculous to refer to that as ‘a quilt’, considering all the images associated with that word. Even the 7″x9″ samples SAQA periodically gathers up from members as a useful technical resource are hardly ‘quilts’, either. I feel as strongly about it now as I did back in April 2005 when I wrote that post. follow those links and you’ll find masses of these tiny textile units, many quite wonderful. Inchies and postcard quilts are often swapped in the mail by afficionados.
I’m not talking about miniature quilts, those technically amazing and often exquisite little textiles, as they are a legitimate thing. Despite my strongly held views and less than a year after venting on it, I allowed myself to be sucked into a postcard swap between members of a small group of Aussie and Kiwi textile artists I belonged to. There are fads and fashions in every area of fabric and textile art.
In 2006 I made these 10 cards and mailed one to every participating member of the group, but it seems art quilt makers weren’t so diligent as the more traditional quilters (who probably still meticulously carry out such swaps) as I only received 3 or 4 back. I’m not sure what happened to them, but they probably went into a drawer in my Australian sewing room which is still all packed and in storage as I write.
Postcards in a 2006 swap between some art quilt makers. Machine appliqued black or gold leather on each, and machine quilted. Approx 6″ x 4″.
In 2008 my website underwent a total redesign, part of which was incorporating my blog to where it is today. A few of the earliest posts did not survive the move intact, but I found the photo for the 2006 post, and I love these long forgotten little pieces. The 10th postcard is pictured separately, because apparently after photographing them and placing them in the addressed envelopes, I found I was one short – so hurriedly made another, photographed that and managed to get them all to the post office down the street just before closing time. I’ve always been a bit of a last minute wonder.
Though colour ways and design units are different for each, they show
A design motif/unit I’ve used repeatedly over 20+ years
I’ve used leather in surface designs for 20+ years
Blocks/repeat units in grids are an enduring influence from traditional patchwork on my textile art
I think this was the last artist swap thing took I joined or was invited to take part in, which is fine by me 🙂
The pandemic pattern on my mind at the moment is that miniscule unit of the highly infectious corona virus that emerged in China late last year, swept through Earth’s human population and turned our normal lives upside down. Everyone has already experienced at least some effect of inconvenience and anxiety, and the illness itself is causing pain, death and sorrow. The majority of patients recover, but some of those people are left with residual physical and/or neurological effects.
Thanks to the wonders of electron microscopy we’re all too familiar with what the virus looks like. The particles of virus are not molecules or cells but virions, represented everywhere as a round thing with spiky bits. I have always intended to represent this PP in some shocking colours to convey the severity of its threat.
Colour+black is always dramatic. I love colour on grey, too, but the effect is softer.
Thinking about colour and the virus, I googled and found my way to an interesting article on how the colour in those graphic images is completely due to artistic licence.  Electron microscope images of the virus are seen in shades of grey only, as the virions’ particle size is many times smaller than what can be affected by light waves to appear coloured. Adding colour to the images draws our attention, making them more scary, so my instinct to use flourescent and bright colours for drama was spot on.
Some of the pieces in the bag of beautiful fine leather offcuts I blogged about a few weeks ago are used here in Pandemic Pattern 2:
Pandemic Pattern 2, free machine quilting in progress. Donation for the 2021 annual SAQA Auction
This 12″ x 12″ work is way ahead of schedule for SAQA’s annual September auction, as I normally make my donor piece in late January or February. However, I also often use these small format pieces as samples, and this one is really a sample for the next Pandemic Pattern piece, which is already on my mind as I finish the applique work featuring gold on black.
What I learned from the Pandemic Pattern 2 piece is:-
that machine basting the small circles of leather to the fabric was all very well in a small work, but physically out of the question for the large piece I have in mind.
I sewed stemmed french knots into the holes that the machine basting made. I’d like the next covid molecules to have fewer spikes, and was thinking about how to achieve this using my basting method. Leather can be tough to sew through.
This morning I took a break from the black/gold to do a few test samples for Pandemic Pattern 3 I have in mind.
A set of stitches, including stemmed fly and some other long straight stitches with two short ones crossing close to the free ends.
In the first pic, there’s some hi-vis citrusy knitting yarn, acrylic, about 8 ply. I don’t know if it will be useful in the work I have in mind, but I auditioned it, anyway, in single, 2- and 4-strand thicknesses, with some french knots w/wo stems – underwhelmed with the fuzzy effect. It would be better couched. More importantly in this pic is my first pass at using hi-vis polyester thread. (upholsterer’s thread weight and very strong) I learned a while back that it is rather springy, so it’s really difficult to use in some stitches. Here, however, I liked the effect of very open or shallow, long stemmed fly stitch, enough to persevere with exploration of it –
Some wide long-stemmed fly stitches, plus simple long stitches with short stitches crossing at one end.
Next I did the long+2 tiny cross stitches in two weights of flourescent orange thread. Pinning the leather and stitching around with long straight stitches (up from beneath through the fabric, down from the top through the fine leather was no trouble with a sharp needle) That was followed by another round of small stitches crossing the free ends – the easy solution I’d been looking for, and I now have the heart to tackle the large work on my mind. I like the effects of both threads.
I just can’t get this fabric to photograph showing its flourescence, but it is much brighter than the kind of mint green it looks.
Trying out these various possibilities only took about an hour of my time, but helped me make some decisions. I’m a real fan of sample making.
I enrolled in The Stitch Club when it started in early May, and though new registrations are currently closed, check the website and if you like the whole idea, you can put your name down for notification next time they open. Every 4 or 5 years ince the late 70s, I’ve been in the habit of going to a long workshop over several days, at a summer school or similar. I value the charge, the boost to my creativity this experience brings, while learning some new skills or techniques. The networking opportunity with like minded souls is very stimulating, too. I was starting to think about working one into our next trip to Australia which, of course, thanks to Covid-19 didn’t happen this year. I never have trouble keeping myself occupied, and am never short of ideas for my next artwork. However, seeing rather more fibre and thread time than usual ahead, I thought treating myself to a series of workshops by prominent textile artist teachers would be a treat and compensation for the pandemic’s disruption – what a good decision.
Hand stitch being one of my passions, it has been so inspiring to take online workshops from a variety of top stitch artists from several countries. When planning the workshops, the organisers clearly required all Stitch Club tutors to design projects with requirements lists featuring repurposed and recycled fabrics, and materials that average stitchers and craft people will have around their homes, anyway. I can honestly say that apart from some wire I needed for in workshop #1, I haven’t needed to buy anything to proceed with any other, and my sewing or embroidery resources are not large. Thanks to my upbringing (and probably age) I’m in the habit of using what I already have around and improvising where necessary, a skill and attitude honed in 2 decades of Austalian Outback living.
I make non-traditional or art quilts often featuring freehand patchwork, and have always kept offcuts and decent sized scraps, so although my stash is very small by many standards, my generous sized scrap bags contain plenty of interesting bits and pieces. The lovely cotton fabrics I love to work with in my contemporary pieced work (heaps of examples elsewhere on this website) are impossible to buy here in Uruguay, and I only have access to them in USA or Australia. I tried mail ordering a few times, but 2/3 of the consignments were pilfered, so I gave up on that.
L – collaged raw edged applique on a plastic base U.R. – metallic finish leathers, machine appliqued with gold thread L.R. mylar backed nylon machine appliqued to black faux patent (vinyl)
I believe this whole situation has left me more receptive to any kind of material’s potential when faced with something unusual, like this black patent finish vinyl:
Land Marks, 2016, 120cm x 90cm
When I came across this faux patent, I bought the last 1.3m piece on the roll, used every square centemetre, and have never seen it again.
Land Marks detail. Nylon backed mylar, hand drawn marks, machine applique.
One of the Stitch Club tutors, Susie Vickery, took the recycle-repurpose materials furthest so far, developing her workshop around using actual rubbish, like plastic mesh vegetable bags,strips of plastic bags and packaging. She coupled this with an exercise in Jacobean crewel embroidery, a european style that reached a height of popularity in the C15 and C16. The formal, stylised designs of this embroidery are still very popular today, usually carried out using fine wool thread on linen or wool twill fabrics. Though I’ve never done any, it is lovely, and the history of this well documented style is fascinating, but an investment in expensive materials is needed to faithfully duplicate the intricate colour gradations and finely detailed patterns that characterise it. In a follow up video segment this morning, Suzie Vickery made an interesting, thought provoking statement:- that she’s found that using beautiful expensive, specialised materials can actually paralyze a person’s creativity.
Ultimately, the maker’s planned use of the textile art largely determines final choice of materials. On one hand, natural fibres (wool, silk, rayon, leather and cotton) are comfortable around the body and next to our skin, and in time they eventually decay into the biosphere – so think clothing and up-market household furnishings. Unless we’ve been hiding under a rock, though, we know that cheap, durable man made fibres or synthetics, usually take much longer to decay, eventually accumulate in the environment and produce harmful effects on all life forms. However, for a large installation they offer durability and sturdiness that natural fibres may not have in the same location.
