Each Little World

Rumi O'Brien in Spring Green

Textile artist Rumi O'Brien is exhibiting (and selling) some of her exquisite quilts as well as a large selection of framed and unframed watercolors at the Jura Silverman Gallery in Spring Green. There is an opening reception for Rumi this afternoon (Sunday May 6) from 2 to 5 p.m. The quilts include both abstract geometric designs and Rumi's signature personal story quilts, like the one illustrated below, called "Digging." (This quilt is darker and much more subtle in color than this image suggests). 

The watercolors — which I had never seen before — cover a wide range of subjects treated with both humor and sensitivity. Rumi suffered a stroke in 2010 and this is her first show in many years. While the quilts are older work, the watercolors include recent paintings. For anyone who loves her work and has missed seeing it, it is well worth the drive. My sister-in-law and I went out yesterday to be able to enjoy Rumi's without a crowd getting in the way. And we'll be going back to pick up our own personal Rumi splurges after the reception.

Woven Memories

March means it's time for the annual Ruth Ketterer Harris Lecture. Presented by The Helen Louise Allen Textile Collection, this year's event includes both a lecture and film screening on consecutive evenings.                                          

"Woven Lives/Vidas Entetejidas" 

 A film by Carolyn Kallenborn, Design Studies Department

Wednesday, February 29th, 6:30-9:00 p.m.

The film will be shown first and will be follwed by a textile viewing and a discussion with Prof. Kallenborn and Ana Paula Fuentes Quintana, Director, Museo Textil de Oaxaca 

“Marrying Tradition and Innovation: Collaborations between Oaxacan Artisans and 21st-century Designers”

A lecture by Ana Paula Fuentes Quintana, Director, Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Thursday, March 1st, 5:30-6:30 p.m.

Both events will take place at: 

Ebling Symposium Center, Microbial Sciences Building

1550 Linden Drive, UW-Madison, WI

Both events are free and open to the public

. . .

 

The textiles of Oaxaca, Mexico are known for their vibrant colors and bold designs. The master dyers and weavers of Oaxaca who make them have inherited skills passed down for generations. Thanks in part to the work of social entrepreneur Ana Paula Fuentes Quintana, this rich heritage will endure through collaborations between Oaxacan artisans and international designers. The pioneering director of the Museo Textil de Oaxaca, Fuentes Quintana is passionate about preserving and renewing Oaxaca's vibrant textile culture by fostering innovation that respects tradition.

. . .

UW-Madison Design Studies professor Carolyn Kallenborn has participated in this exchange. Her beautifully crafted film documents the "woven lives" of some of Oaxaca's finest textile artisans working at this fertile crossroad between the old and the new. 

You can watch a trailer for the film here.

The above information is via the HLATC mailing and website.

Barbie's doll

My cousin Barbara (below right) and I reconnected last summer at a family reunion — our first meeting since we were in high school. We were delighted to discover that we were cousinly clones: we showed up wearing the same style (and label) clothing, and shared a history of similar jobs and interests. 

Since then we've stayed in touch in a one-sided way: she reads the blog, I think about her. She sends me mementoes and I envision creating appropriately personal responses but don't seem to quite get around to actually doing anything. Luckily, being family, she doesn't hold my delinquency against me. As proof, she recently sent me one of her exquisite hand-made creations for my birthday.

This mysterious woman in white is about 17 inches long and made of a bits of lace, fabric, ribbon and beads plus a little loop of thread so I can easily put her on display. There is a message to me on the back that looks like it was written with a fountain pen (or even a quill!). It would be hard to determine the age of this treasure if the note wasn't dated 2011.

Something this beautiful was, of course, also elegantly presented. The monochromatic missive arrived ensconced in two kinds of tissue paper and nestled within a long box whose lid was decorated with floral images. A perfect present from my perfect cousin. 

GBBD: 02.15.11

No flowers outdoors as yet, but we are enjoying a bit of a warming trend that's helping to melt our huge snow piles. There are abundant blooms indoors however, all from a beautiful book on Swedish scarves and shawls sent to us by our friends, Julie and Mats, who spent Christmas with Mats' family in Sweden. Enjoy these colorful bouquets from "Folklig Grannlåt" by Birgitta Farhang and Ingrid Herrdin. 

And be sure to visit Carol at May Dreams Gardens to see what's blooming in gardens around the world.

Remodeling: the finishing touch

We both love textiles: African Kuba cloths, Japanese ikats, Paisley shawls, Chinese emboideries, Lao scarves — and especially antique Persian rugs. We dreamed of someday being able to add beautiful rugs as accents on top of our new wool carpet. The weekend before Thanksgiving Mark suggested we visit David Ward at Stony Hill Antiques in Madison. Over the years we've found a wonderful Kuba at David's along with African masks, jewelry, books and paintings. The shop is eclectic and an afternoon digging around while we gab with David is always fun.

I didn't really expect that we would find a rug to our liking since David generally stocks contemporary Iranian rugs. U.S. trade barriers have kept the supply of rugs coming into this country an on-again-off-again situation. When the last embargo ended, rugs poured into the U.S., meaning there were lots of rugs at reasonable prices for consumers, if not as profitable as the dealers might wish. A new barrier on rug imports from Iran by the Obama administration went into effect at the end of September, so prices are likely to rise again. We started flipping through David's rugs, took six home to see if they would work in our rooms — and kept five of them!

This pair of pictures shows before and after of the front entrance hall. The ceiling was torn out of this space so we could insulate it and change the heat vent and lights. We also swapped out old linoleum flooring for ceramic tile. Luckily neither the old floor nor its adhesive contained asbestos. We had to send samples to the state lab for tests, and asbestos would have meant major abatement issues and costs.

Another view of the space showing the paint colors: the walls are "Coastal Fog" like the stairwell walls while the doors are "Woodcut" like the display wall in the strairwell. The rug adds the punch the area was lacking and also helps to tie the wood tones of the stairs themselves to the rest of the design.

We brought home a couple of rugs that were very similar in color and style, hoping we might be able to use them together in one room. We love the look of overlapping rugs that we've seen in books and magazines and were hot to try it ourselves. That idea worked but not with the pair of rugs we anticipated.

We realized that two rugs in this space worked only if they contrasted in style and scale, as this pair do.

The rugs really tied the whole look together, giving it a polished aura that the room lacked before — something that was not apparent to us until we brought in the rugs and put them down. We also brought in an antique English Windsor chair and a Thai rain drum to finish it off.  

The pair of pictures above shows the corner bookcase wall before and after. The ceramics on top of the new bookcase are all by Bill Farrell of Galena, Illinois; one of our favorite potters. 

 

So two rugs in the library and one in the front hall. Where, you ask, did the other two rugs go? They went into other rooms that were not part of the remodeling, but felt like completely new spaces with the addition of these delightful rugs. You can see one in front of the couch in the living room and the other in the red sitting room. As a final note I should mention that these five newer rugs cost about the same as the pair of small antique  Kurdish kilims we bought elsewhere a few years ago. David Ward's rugs turned out to be a very big bang for the bucks!

 

500 paint colors here.

We pick the wall paint colors here.

We begin teardown and construction here.

Putting it all back together here. 

Yarn: Remembering the Way Home

"Kyoko Mori is an artist with words. She stitches them together in phrases that make you catch your breath at the aptness of a metaphor or the sharp sting of truth."

— A blurb from the back cover of Mori's novel, "Stone Field, True Arrow," taken from my review of the book in The Capital Times newspaper

On my bookshelf are two hardcover books by Kyoko Mori: one a novel, the other a collection of essays. I'll probably never read either one again, which suggests they should go to make space for other books. But they were so affecting when I first read them that I keep them as reminders. As you can see from the quote at the top of this post, I think Mori is an impressive writer. 

Like many authors she mines her own life for material; a life suffused with tragedy, sorrow, strangeness, and a long struggle to make sense of it all. Mori spent half her life in Japan and half in the American midwest: Green Bay, Wisconsin to be exact; and was an outsider in both cultures. 

 

 

Like the two books pictured here, Mori's latest volume, "Yarn: Remembering the Way Home," continues this exploration. This time she uses fiber as the thread that binds these stories into a narrative. Thus the book has lots of detail (and trivia) about spinning, knitting, weaving, the Shetland Islands, sweater design and more. Mori's story is endlessly fascinating and her prior re-tellings of it have been fully engaging.

But this time I felt as though Mori were going through the motions; that she had thought of another way to approach the tale using the traditional female fiber arts she practices as the framework. As someone who has experience with many of the same arts as Mori, I admit that's what drew me initially to the story. Perhaps I am too familiar with Mori's history and that's what made this book so much less satisfying. But I never found myself re-reading a sentence or stopping to savor a phrase or remembering anything at all once I closed the cover. She does, however, continue to be spot-on in her description of small town life and evocation of the midwestern landscape.

 

 

To fully appreciate Mori's story and her talent, I'd forego this latest book and read one of these earlier titles. For those who prefer memoir and essays, read "Polite LIes;" for fans of fiction, pick "Stone Field, True Arrow." 

Selvedge: American special

I bought my first issue of Selvedge magazine (No. 3) in 2004. I was helpless from the moment I spied it on the rack at Borders. I recognized it for what it was and still is: porn for textiles fanatics. Finally it wasn't just the foodies who had a magazine filled with history, trivia, creativity, inspiration and luscious photos about their favorite subject. The only problem was the cover price: $20. Published in the UK, the American edition cost as much as a book. I just bit the bullet and kept buying it — until the price crept up to $30! 

So you can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I saw the July/Aug. issue with a banner saying "American Issue / Special Price $14.95." Of course I bought a copy; the price being even cheaper than when I began purchasing selvedge. And it had an attractive graphic (as always) about cotton, a story on the history of the fiber and one on how the American Civil War affected Britain's textile industry. I had suggested the topic of cotton and the Civil War to the textile study group I belong to as an apt study subject since we are approaching the Sesquicentennial of the War. They agreed, put it on our November agenda and I've been compiling bits and pieces of information ever since — so the selvedge articles are providential. 

But the real happy ending to this story is that the special American price on selvedge was not just for this issue. Rumor has it that they now have the ability to print the magazine here for American readers, thus the price is now more in line with what it costs in Europe. USA subscriptions will cost $40 for 6 months or $75 for a year (making it $12.50 per copy according to the subscription form). Read more about the magazine and how to subscribe here.

Tagged, and for sale

The Artful Shopper is selling out. Well, to be exact, she's downsizing, de-accessioning, depleting her stock. And she's not alone; Mark is doing the same. So we're looking for new homes for art, antiques, baskets, garden and art books, decorative accessories, tea bowls, textiles, hats, a dhurrie rug and whatever else we unearth before the end of the week. 

The sale runs 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. this Friday, May 14, and Saturday, May 15. The on-line map to the Orchard Ridge Rummage Sale can be found here.

Three African pieces (above): Ligbi/Djimini mask, Cow mask from N.E. Nigeria, and Goli mask.
 

What we do know is that any reasonable offer will be accepted. Stop by to say hello, browse and buy. Among the offerings will be lots of ART: acrylic and oil paintings of varying sizes and styles; figurative charcoal drawings (life class!), woodcuts and other prints, posters, studio ceramics and African masks. 

You know us; every picture tells a story and every piece has provenance:

This Art Deco accent table is also a sewing table (below) that holds spools of thread inside the top along with trays for scissors and such, plus two drawers for storing supplies. Originally purchased in the late 70s or early 80s from Michael Port's Vintage Interiors when it was in the old Washington Hotel. 

A set of four ladder-back chairs with new rush seats. Purchased in the late 1980s from Jim Dennis, Emeritus Professor of Art History at UW-Madison. The chairs just didn't go with his Frank Lloyd Wright house. But they're perfect with this big country basket from a Bauer & Beckwith sale when they still lived on Madison's east side.

Two-part lanterns suitable for deck or dining table, candles included. The bottom half of each makes a nice pedestal for sculpture. Also a pair of tall brass candle sticks and a big brass scoop. 

A curvaceous French-influenced side table with decorative wood inlay on the top and brass detailing on the top edge, skirt and legs. Needs restoration work or a tablecloth. 

Two hand-colored prints of "Limestreet Ward" and "Cripplegate Ward Within and Without" in London. Early to mid-19th century re-strikes from older plates, nicely framed and in excellent condition (better in person than this photo). Also from England, an untouched, unused terracotta tulip motif wall planter from Rookes Pottery in Derbyshire. Purchased in the late 1980s.

 

A trio of metal purses to me; lunch boxes to you.

Assorted African items including a woven basket, a gourd bowl and a leather and fiber hat. In the center of the picture is a Fon Abike vodoo mother and child figure, partly made out of a sock. Purchased by a Haitian friend in a market in Mali not open to tourists. Also a Fulani loom and shuttle bought in 1982 in Mali, used in weaving cotton and wool blankets. 

And still more art ...

 

 
And that's just a bit of what we're selling. 

Mark's sister — who will be joining us for the sale — is closing her booth at the Columbus Antiques Mall and will have lots of items, especially vintage and antique china, including Lenox, Syracuse, Buffalo and McCoy.

Mother's Day memento

Thinking of all you moms on your day ...

My father was in the U.S. Navy during World War II and served on a number of ships in the Pacific. He sent this memento to his mother for Mother's Day, 1945. I've purchased a nice shadow box frame so I can protect it and display it, but I'm still trying to figure out how to mount it as the fabric is so delicate. Feels like silk, but I know there was a shortage of that material during the war so I think it may actually be some type of synthetic. 

Getting to the point

Collecting (Part II)

HE SAID:

Recently I quoted John Bradford on collecting: "the excitement of the hunt, the find, the acquisition and the display is perhaps most akin to being in love." Since then, quite unexpectedly, I found this passage in Phyllis Rose's book, The Year of Reading Proust:

"I have reached the age when collecting is the stage on which I enact desire, for the feel of promiscuity — if that is what one needs to feel alive — is the same whether the object of desire is a man or a sprinkler jar."

  Or a hatchel.

One thing I know for certain is that you don't have to reach a "certain age" for eroticism to enter into the desire to possess an object. I vividly remember seeing my first flax hatchel, a comb for separating flax fibers. It was very like the one pictured at the top with a wooden cover. It was more years ago than I care to think about, in the basement of an antiques mall in Mount Horeb, Wisconsin. Just thinking about it now, I can recreate the thrill of seeing all those sharp points as I lifted the cover. It was electric.

I didn't buy it, mostly because I didn't have the hundred dollars they were asking. But I was also experiencing a guilty pleasure, an embarrassment to admit how much I wanted it and why. I thought about that thicket of long iron points for days after. It was very much like an infatuation, like meeting someone at a party and being too shy, too afraid to reveal the intensity one's desire, to call the next day.

Eventually Linda and I met and married and came upon another hatchel, although without a cover, and brought it home with us. Her anxiety over both the implied and real danger in response to those spikes was moderated only by her interest in the process they played in creating textiles.

The hatchel was used in the third step of linen production. After the plant stalks had been retted, or allowed to rot, they went through the skutching or crushing step to separate the fibers in the stems. They were then combed by drawing the fibers through the hatchel combs. The spikes would remove the shorter fibers, line up the long soft fibers, and remove the woody debris from the stems.

We have four or five hatchels now. Most of the time they are kept in the basement where they can cause no injury. Once in a while, though, we'll bring one up and hang it in a corner, behind some furniture where no one is likely to go. And for a month or two we'll admire it for its elegant functionality, its history as a tool, and the frisson produced by those many very sharp points.

 

Picture #1 was copied from an auction site and used without permission. The rest of the hatchels are from our collection.  The largest, the double comb pictured in #2 and #6 is 40 inches long. The hatchel in pictures #3-5 is 34 inches long. Picture #5 shows the nails from the back. The hatchel in the last picture is 12 inches long and has pretty decorative metalwork.