Inheritance is a project I've worked on for nearly 3 years. It began in 2015 when a woman in New York state sent me a box of mystery filled with linens and vintage garments, and based on the response I received from sharing that story online, I officially crowdsourced more household, handmade/hand-embroidered cloth, along with associated stories. I offered to become the final inheritor of it all, even though most of the origins and makers were Unknown. Also unknown, was what a body of work made from cast off, abandoned, sometimes-unwanted, or even still-loved-but-burdensome objects would look like. Even when I submitted the proposal to the Anchorage Museum in 2016, I had little to show, but must have been convincing in my direction. I gave up so much control over my materials during the course of this project that it's changed the way I work. After 12 years in the clothing industry, I already endure a rocky relationship with clothing and fabric, but after this exercise in mindfulness, strange abundance and deep emotional dives, I have more ways to side-eye run-of-the-mill cloth. Yesterday, I walked into the fabric store to by 1.3 meters of fabric to back a piece I'm finishing, found exactly what I was looking for, pulled out the bolt, walked 5 steps and stopped. My daughter, age 9, who was with me when I opened that first box of mystery and there for the dozens that followed, said, "I think I understand, mom," and then, "I don't want be in here anymore. Let's go." So I returned the perfect bolt of cloth to the shelf and we walked out the door. We aren't snobs, we aren't garbage pickers (well, sometimes), but going through this process has put me somewhere in the middle -- somewhere between what can be and what was, between old and new, between shouting and silence, between the beautiful and terrible, between confidence and uncertainty, between hiding everything and baring all. And always, always existing in the Not Knowing. Here's something I feel strongly about: theme kills. Entering into a project -- whether writing or visual arts -- with a theme in mind is a mistake. Themes emerge from the Not Knowing and from probing the Living Questions. My work explores the work of women--literal, physical, emotional. Theme emerges from stomping around on this landscape, turning over rocks, lifting dead things to find new growth, or investigating why that thing shriveled and died in the first place. These materials could have been debilitating, or narrow. They were. But roaming and poking at every single corner inside those confines is the ultimate freedom. I pushed against the confines of form and these surface-bound artifacts -- base items made for the bed, the body, the table, the wall -- elevating and lightening them, while at the same time infusing them with weight. I wanted to look at things we generally don't. And open up the process to as many other hands as I could. I met incredible generous people throughout this multi-year process, many of whom I now call friends. Some are traveling to Alaska this summer to see this work installed at the Anchorage Museum. Eventually I'll share more about each of these pieces -- where the components came from, process images and further thoughts. But the next posts will be about the installation process and museum programming. There are so many things I've learned that will continue shaping how I approach future projects. I'm so happy with this work, even when I thought it wasn't enough, or too much, or that I shouldn't have started down such a path in the first place. I'm still wandering around on it, somewhere between lost and found. Many thanks to Brian Adams for taking these gorgeous photos, to the Anchorage Museum for all of their unfailing support and guidance, to the Rasmuson Foundation and the Sustainable Arts Foundation for funding assistance to do this work. 1 year ago on this blog:A history of intention. (The piece in this blog, "Fatigue Threshold," is part of this body of work, but is currently touring with Quilt National until October 2019). 2 years ago on this blog: 3 years ago on this blog:
25 Comments
Helen
5/19/2018 11:00:43 am
It's wonderful to see these works complete and hung so well. I'm far away from being able to visit in person, and it's lovely to be able to share in this way. Seeing some pieces 'whole' for the first time, suddenly I 'got' them. Looking forward to your next posts to hear more. Thank you.
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5/21/2018 09:57:10 am
Hi Helen,
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Beth
5/20/2018 06:44:05 am
Hung and lit like this elevates your work to beyond extraordinary. It has been such a privilege to watch your story unfold via instagram and your blog. Cheers Amy.
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5/21/2018 09:58:49 am
Hello Beth,
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Penny Gold
5/20/2018 07:32:59 pm
Amy, the exhibit is stunning. It is a thrill to see the scale and scope of the completed work.
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5/21/2018 09:59:38 am
Thank you so much Penny! I appreciate that you followed it!
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Barbara Swenson
5/21/2018 07:00:26 am
You are amazingly inventive/creative. I am particularly inspired and motivated to take the pieces of work from my mother and grandmother out of the boxes and use them in my own work. Thank you. Your exhibit is marvelous.
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5/21/2018 10:01:11 am
Barbara,
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5/21/2018 07:10:46 am
Such inspiring words to guide us on the journey "in between." These thoughts are what propel and encourage my explorations. Letting go of control... Beautiful work and installation. Thank you.
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5/21/2018 10:02:07 am
Hello Karen,
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5/21/2018 07:59:22 am
This is such a touchingly beautiful expression of time and care and thought and skill. Theirs. Yours.
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5/21/2018 10:03:28 am
Hello Lyric,
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5/21/2018 10:04:30 am
Hello Mo,
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Ruth Greene
5/21/2018 01:30:48 pm
Could I interest you in a womens vest/tunic made (mostly) from small oil painted table linens, (napkins and such) from my paternal grandmother, Christie Christensen Waldhelm of Nome? The tiny oil painted images are of Alaska. The buttons (fake) gold nuggets. I am a 3rd generation Alaskan presently in Arizona where we wear the least clothing possible, so the garment, though worn, has not been on a body in some time. Could send photos. I'm a 78 yo.fiber artist and love your work. Don't have anyone who would appreciate the piece. Christie was a big deal in Nome.
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5/22/2018 05:27:59 am
Hello Ruth,
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Marijane Smith
5/21/2018 02:08:41 pm
We are visiting Alaska this summer and I look forward to visiting this amazing exhibit. Thank you for the head’s up!
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5/22/2018 05:30:01 am
Marijane,
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6/3/2018 12:55:44 pm
It is great to see contemporary art made from materials which formed such an important, if quotidian part of the lives of women. I so agree with what you say about the deadening effect of 'theme' I'm impressed with the results of your struggle and imagination, and your dedication and industry - and am delighted to have contributed even a tiny component of this splendid content. You are making wondrous work.
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6/4/2018 06:48:00 am
Hello Olga,
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Helen Geglio
6/5/2018 04:41:26 am
A very powerful, thoughtful body of work, beautifully lighted and displayed. Well done Amy.
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6/5/2018 06:55:43 am
Thank you Helen. I appreciate your time reading and commenting, and have also really enjoyed our conversations over the last few years. Amelia's and your mother's story is one that has stayed with me for the long haul. Thank you for that as well, and I hope your creative work is going splendidly.
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8/18/2018 05:51:06 am
I saw this exhibit in Anchorage, and it was a top highlight of our 4 week trip thru the state. It touched and inspired me on so many levels. Some of your interpretations and stories literally took my breath away. A keeper and lover of my own ancestors handiwork (some which I have almost work out) and some I occasionally marvel at and put back in the drawer. you inspire me to find a way to integrate them into my own art, batik, which is textile driven as well. My mind is spinning!!!
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8/18/2018 06:57:24 pm
Thank you so much for your lovely words about the exhibition and for taking the time to leave a comment here. I’m thrilled you traveled so long through Alaska and I’m honored my work was a highlight!
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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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