This winter I was honored to be asked to create a series of small works to be presented to four recipients of the Governor's Awards for the Arts and Humanities here in Alaska. The awards ceremony was held last week in Juneau, and while the idea of giving a recipient a piece of artwork instead of a laser-engraved object is exciting on its own, an even more exciting idea is giving textile-based artwork. And even MORE exciting than this, is presenting textile artwork from TWO different artists: myself and good friend, Maria Shell. Maria wrote about the pieces she created for the awards in a recent blog post: Memento. Her work is intricate, vibrant, lovely, intense. I've been a fan of hers for a long time and happy to say we've been friends for a long time, now too. If you've followed this blog for a while, you'll know my family cleans beaches in Prince William Sound during the summer. This isn't a paid gig. Nor is it official. Nor is it helpful when we accidentally clean monitored beaches (sorry, it had junk on it, we didn't know you were counting exactly how much). It also isn't pleasant. But the reward is generally a pocket full of rocks. We never take anything from a beach unless we've cleaned it, and most of the time we don't find anything interesting unless we've cleaned it first, anyway. We've been known to cruise back into the harbor with a couple hundred pounds of ghost nets, rope, and too many plastic water bottles to count. We recycle what we can, dispose of the rest. Twice, my son has found the coveted Lego Piece. Once, I found a fairy tea cup. It's a treasure hunt. The requested dimensions for the awards commission was 12" x 12" or smaller, so I used 10" x 10" x 2" cradled board, which I pre-finished with 2 coats of polyurethane. I use an upholstery technique on the reverse, which I receive great joy from because I get to use a hammer and beautiful nails called cut tacks, plus it's a clean finish. The materials for this small series are an amalgam of the Reliquary Series and items sent to me for the Inheritance Project. The grey linen is new, but the rest is not. The materials include vintage shantung drapes and heavy taffeta, vintage unfinished needlepoint, crocheted doilies and trims (which I dyed) and beach stones from Prince William Sound and Nome, which are the oldest thing of all. Four of the works were selected for awards, a fifth will remain in the permanent collection of the Alaska Humanities Forum. They are lovely as a collection, but strong enough to exist on their own. I think a lot about language and titles, expecting them to work hard and be clear. "Vintage," for example, is anything over 20 years old, while "Antique" is over 100. Some words I do not use in the lexicon of my current work: "upcycled," "recycled," "stash." These words are tired. They are a contemporary attempt to turn something that frugal women have always done into something new and exciting. These words make me feel like someone is about to sell me something I don't need. I'm the stoic daughter of an American water well driller and a Swede raised on a farm by grandparents so "Work" is a word I use a lot. "Play" is a word I use, but never in my studio.
I know, I know, but "Play" is different from "Challenging." And "Fun is different than "Pleasing" or "Satisfying." Why does any of this matter? Because words matter. There is a difference, for example, between an "Art Quilter" and a "Quilt Artist" (something Maria Shell brought up just the other day). A person can be "crafty" like a fox or "crafty" with popsicle sticks, while the elements of "Craft" versus the "crafting" of a work all have different weights and meanings. (And also, before it was called "Craft," it was called "Work" and everyone did it, every day, for various reasons and with varying degrees of skill. It took an Industrial Revolution before the idea of Craft was even a thing.) This is not an argument for Art versus Craft. This is an argument for Language and using it in a way that evokes clarity, yet opens a door for further interpretation. Are these actual fossils? No. I probably need a permit to remove fossils from an Alaskan beach. But they conjure the idea of something rare and hunted for -- or stumbled upon -- evidence of a life before our own. Titles have to work hard. They are the extra narrative layer that pushes a piece beyond what you see visually. Titles can reiterate a piece (and I've certainly got a few titles I wish I'd spent an extra week or year considering in order to avoid this), but please consider the rich narrative difference between "The Doilies and Rocks Series" versus the "Fossil Series." I personally want nothing to do with the "Doilies and Rocks Series." And then there is Dada. Consider, the difference between "Dada the Cat," being named after an art movement (so cool), versus "Dada the Cat" actually being re-named when my 2-year old couldn't yell "SIMON!" at the sliding door, but he could yell "DA-DA!" (the reality). My husband is "Papa," so, zero confusion on that front. Does this change your perception of Dada? Of course not, he's still just a Siamese on a diet. But you've got to love a double meaning. Even still, it took 8 years for us to admit to the vet that this fat animal's name isn't "Simon" and it should be updated for their files. Sometimes weighty titles are personal. Sometimes everybody gets it. A year ago on this blog:The final boxes of mystery. (except they weren't, because they still keep coming...) Two years ago on this blog:Three years ago on this blog:Find your teachers: Bren Ahearn (I need to start this blog series again and keep profiling other artists I admire...also, I need to drop Bren a line instead of just stalking him on Instagram @brenahearn).
21 Comments
2/12/2018 03:38:57 pm
This is a lovely little series! Perhaps there'll be a continuation? I hope....
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4/11/2018 09:27:03 am
Natalya,
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Natalya Aikens
4/11/2018 09:43:47 am
LOL
Ruth Greene
2/12/2018 03:56:17 pm
I accidently stumbled on the Art Quilt Group on Facebook, then tonite, found your blog. Thanks you so much for sharing. Of the 'rock & doily' stuff, (I know, but they really name themselves), I really connected with the next to last one-the sun or moon is my take on it. Wonderful. I'm a 3rd generation Alaskan, as Grandpa Christensen went north in the Gold Rush, but found instead, Tin. Dad (and Mom) graduated from college at Fairbanks and in 1948, we came outside, (drove-6 weeks in a '38 Woodie Wagon), Mom, Dad and 4 kids of which I'm the oldest and only one who;s gone back. Now in Phoenix after 40 years in Buffalo, NY. Got away from the snow, but oh, how I'd love to come home!
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4/11/2018 09:28:49 am
Ruth,
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I love this series! The juxtaposition of vintage ‘doilies’ and beach rocks is brilliant. It harkens me back to ancestors’ picnic at the shore! In reality another visual reflection of your beautiful creative mind. And the language is not lost on me...good job, and congratulations!
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4/12/2018 10:35:30 am
Thank you Carol! I'm needing a picnic at the shore right about now. I appreciate your friendship and kind words!
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lynne Bateson
2/12/2018 05:34:45 pm
I love this series. The new owners are very lucky. Keep up the good work, both on the beaches and the creation of your art work.
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4/12/2018 10:36:38 am
Hi Lynne,
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Tina
2/13/2018 04:25:11 am
Lovely pieces, I really enjoyed the concept of naming, I struggle with that many days when I finish a piece of quilted art.
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4/12/2018 10:37:40 am
Tina,
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2/13/2018 10:22:36 am
I have a dresser full of old needlework and linens that I, too, have rescued from destruction and the Abyss. I love the eclipse effect of "Fossil #4. That is the huskiest Siamese I've ever seen, but he needs the extra body mass against the cold. Thanks for sharing!
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4/12/2018 10:39:34 am
Linda,
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2/14/2018 03:22:06 pm
I always enjoy reading your thoughtful blog posts Amy—thank you! Again, congratulations on being picked to make the awards—lucky recipients! I'm sorry I missed what Maria had to say about the difference between an Art Quilter and a Quilt Artist, I would've liked to hear that. Did she write about it somewhere?
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4/12/2018 10:41:30 am
Hi Beth,
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Annette Marley
2/15/2018 10:50:52 am
Amy: So, so beautiful. The color of bull kelp and beach stone are a combination I see every time I walk on the beach at Homer that I love in an ephemeral and subconscious way. That beautiful color combination--how to even describe that greenish, waxy yellow--and the deep grey of the stones--brings that joy to consciousness. That bobbin lace (why is it called that?) is something else in terms of texture. Thank you for sharing--whoever receives these will be blessed.
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4/12/2018 10:45:35 am
Annette,
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2/18/2018 05:02:17 am
Oh my goodness. These are so beautiful, each different, each holding so much thought and time and carefulness. I read every word of your intelligent defense of materials and labour and language and come away, as usual, in awe. Wow, Amy Meissner. Congratulations. Love you xo
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5/13/2018 09:10:33 pm
Siting down for a change and enjoying your blog. Interesting how titles make a difference and description of ones work. For me growing up it was "handarbete" handwork, and it meant it was done with great care and oh yes it had to look just as good on the backside as the front or it meant nothing to the person looking at it.
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5/21/2018 10:06:54 am
Mom,
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Amy MeissnerArtist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other. Categories
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