On Critique

I was thinking about critique the other night. The art center I belong to has a monthly crit group and I decided I should participate. But what to bring?

I am working on a large quilt for my Security Blanket series. I hesitate to bring it for several reasons. The first is because I am adding some appliquéd shapes and I don't want them to get crumpled or misplaced in transit. The second and more important reason is that I feel like this piece is far enough along that I am committed to it for good or bad. There is no turning back. I'm not proud or happy that I feel that way about this piece (I recognize that it's not a position of growth), but I do.

I could bring a few drawings from the life drawing sessions I attend. But those are never really meant to be finished artworks, just exercises, so what would the point be? Of course, I could probably get some insight on avenues to explore in future drawing sessions, so maybe I should bring my sketches one of these days.

I decided to bring a collection of hankies I am altering for my Army Wife series. I feel pretty solid about the basic premise, but I'm not sure how best to present them. The crit group could help me with that, and the hankies are not so far along that if there was input that could potentially change other aspects I wouldn't be able to implement it. The other artists at the session did indeed have some great ideas about how to present this work, and confirmed that I was on the right track. Next month I promise myself that I'll bring something meatier to crit!



All this agonizing over what to bring reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a while ago about critiques and Show and Tell in general. It is often difficult to share work in a forum where people might question it. That questioning is often taken personally. My answer to my friend's query how I dealt with criticism was that art school taught me to develop a thick skin, not take it so personally, and to take what was helpful and ignore the rest. She asked what our art school critique sessions were like.

To tell the truth, I can't remember. I remember the lessons I took away from them, but I don't remember the format or my feelings at the time. I think it was pretty simple. Put your work up on the wall (everyone's at once if I remember correctly), and then one by one we explained what it meant. These were design classes for the most part, so there was usually a list of "client" needs we were to have addressed. Then the instructor and students talked about what in each work addressed those needs and what wasn't so effective. There were what-if questions too about color and compositional choices and type faces and the like. I don't remember ever being completely crushed by anyone's comments. Disappointed maybe, but never crushed. And there was almost always something that could be changed or applied to the next assignment. Maybe it was because we were all relatively equal -- similar ages, at the same place in school, all good enough to have been accepted into the school in the first place, etc. Maybe quilt guilds and art quilt groups are too varied in experiences to be comfortable places for hearing opinions (and it is all subjective opinion) on one's work.

As uncomfortable as they can be, I think critiques are important for growth. I think they can be effective even if it's as simple as a group of friends one is comfortable with, or if it's a more formal setting. And let's not forget the self critique. Is my work good enough? Am I relevant? What can I change to make the work better? Eternal questions, I know. But critique can help me find an answer, at least temporarily.

Drastic Measures

Kristin today.

One of the art lessons that has made a lasting impression with me was an experience my dad had when he was in art school. He told me that after laboriously drawing the day's model, the instructor had all the students erase their work, turn it upside down, and start again. The moral of the story is not to think that your work is ever too precious for improvement.




I have been working on this quilt on and (mostly off) for over a decade. The whole tale is on my blog today. It had changed in meaning for me, and I have tried to bring it up to date. After much laboring, I have come to the realization that it is just not working, and I have to take drastic, art school type, measures.




Sometimes (probably more often than we are willing to admit) there comes a point where something just can't be fixed and it has to be tossed or completely reimagined. I decided for the latter and painted my heirloom quilt and then cut it up. I plan to stitch some bolder designs over the panels and mount them on canvas as wall decor. It still may not work, but at least I will have been bold and tried; besides, it's not like the original project was going anywhere anyway.



Interestingly, I just read an article on Ragged Cloth Cafe this morning about creativity and fugitive artwork. It's worth checking out.

playing

With plastic in my case. Hi, Natalya here to declare that I have fallen into a deep dark hole that is called experimentation. What if I try this? What if I now do this? What if.......

You would think that after playing around with a material for a while, let's say a year, you run out of the "what if's". Not true in my case.  At least not with the recycled plastic shopping bags. Or dryer sheets for that matter. Here are few detail shots of my recent experiments:

layered with packing material batting, stitched and painted with acrylics

dryer sheet painted with gesso

plastic drop cloth, drawn on and stitched

translucent plastics layered and machine stitched

layered, stitched and sponge painted with acrylics

It's a good thing that there are some deadlines looming, as they make me finish my experiments and draw conclusions. But the experimenting goes on even with the deadlines, it's so much fun I can't help myself. I must find out what if.....

What are you experimenting with?

Closed Doors vs Open Ones

Carol here.

I don't know about all of you but after I have a big push to reach deadlines, I have to take a break.

Literally I have nothing to offer.

I  just completed two articles for the same publication (with only two weeks to write them both) (my own schedule blocked me into that corner) and I am so very wrung out.
I feel like I couldn't come up with one bit of inspiration at the moment.

But I still crave the daily creative activity that I am used to.

What is a girl to do?

I read for a couple of days or at least until my vision was blurred.
Then I watched a couple of good movies followed by a couple of really bad ones.

But I couldn't sit still much longer and not do something.
What I really wanted to do was draw or work in my art journal.

I don't know if you can really call one of the handmade books that I write/draw/collage in an "art journal" but I guess that's the best description at the moment.
Sometimes it feels like an "art" journal but other times it feels more like a regular journal.

It's a huge book that I made in a workshop that I took a few years ago.

I certainly learned my lesson there about making Big Books.

I prefer the smaller ones that I can complete easily or the "theme" book that I can carry on trips with me.

I have a "Colorado" book that I work in while I am visiting friends and teaching there.

I also have a "Charleston" book that I carry when my husband and I venture to The Holy City.
I used a printed copy of a rich beautiful painting by Robert Henri called "The Green Fan (Girl of Toledo, Spain)" that is owned by Gibbs Art Museum in Charleston, SC

One of my favorite paintings.
She stands 41 inches tall
and commands any room that she is in.

My Charleston Book (aka Book of the Holy City).
"The Green Fan (Girl of Toledo, Spain)"
Robert Henri

Having a book like that makes it really simple to decide what to carry with me when I travel.

But back to the Big Book.

She is almost six inches thick, holds a lot of pages and even more words and drawings.
Lots of room for random mark making.
I turn to her pages when I have that desire to draw (or write) and have no idea or concern for the outcome.

I opened her up yesterday morning, grabbed a couple of pens and set to work (while watching one of those bad movies).

Here's a sampling of the pages that I marked up.

A colorful owl that started out as a curved doodle.

I had stitched a doily/sun shape into my page
before I stitched the signature into my book.
Yesterday I journaled deep, dark secrets on the page.

Ah, more secrets.
I'd have to kill you if you read them.

Ideas for simple, yet engaging journal doodles.

You can see the progression in this page.
I love adding the tiny details to finish the doodle drawings up.
I'll go back in later and add journaling.

I also add in single pages with ideas for thermofax screens.

More blurring to make you wonder why I have
so many deep dark secrets.
Most of it is aimless pondering of a bored woman.
Like this one -
"We never consider death before it considers us"
What?
"Dead men do tell tales albeit quietly".
I am a fountain (a deep one) of thoughts.

So you can see that I have an expanse of fertile ground on which to practice my trade.
In other words- I have a big ass book that I draw and write in.

The Muse may be out at the moment but at least I left the door open for her.

Do you find that you close the door completely or do you leave the door open for ideas to flow back in?

You gotta leave room for the entry of creative ideas.
You also need to spend time with these ideas every day.
If you keep showing up and opening that door, they will show show up as well.

fooled myself

Happy New Year! There is nothing like starting the new year with a realization that I have managed to fool myself yet again.. Natalya here and here's the story:

Back in 2007, inspired by Jeanne Williamson I started a weekly journaling project in which I explored different techniques, experimented with recycled materials and generally didn't give myself any rules except for size. I kept this going for two years and then got bored and decided to do a daily sketch journal. Sketching turned into experimenting with collage and painting and printing and doodling all on the pages of the said journal. Then in 2010 I got all fancy and did monthly diptychs based on my sketches from the year before. The following year I embarked on a very ambitious project of daily journaling on fabric. I had it all figured out: monthly prompts, experiments, binding into monthly books and then....I fizzled out and quit. Yup, quit. I thought that was the end of my journaling. Got it all out of my system, no need for more.

What I didn't even realize was that I hadn't really quit, I had just changed my media. You see, back in the beginning of  2009 I started something silly and frivolous on my blog called Wordless Wednesdays. It was really just blog fodder for when I couldn't think of anything else to blog about. I copied the idea from a bunch of other bloggers, sort of fell into a trend. Without even realizing it became a habit. Somewhere in 2012 the Wordless Wednesdays became more and more architecture based, only natural as my artwork was concentrating more and more on architecture. And they became not so wordless too somehow... In 2013 I gave myself a real challenge of making Wordless Wednesday an experiment in Photoshop using photos of NYC only.

So call me slow...but it was only this week as I planned out my Wordless Wednesday challenge for 2014 that I realized that I had never quit journaling! I just changed my journaling media... Isn't hindsight great?

So what's your journaling story? Weekly, monthly, everyday? Textile, paper or computer? And how has it morphed over time?

taking notes

I don't keep an official sketchbook any more. You know the one with lovely fully colored pages, textured backgrounds, delicately drawn objects and patterns and etc. I did for a while, but in the end found that it was better for me to extend that kind of energy on my stitching. Natalya here to give you a peek at the plain and simple...

Earlier this week I finally got to see an exhibit that I highly recommend to any lover of textiles, The Interwoven Globe. It's at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC until January 5th. I came with camera fully charged only to discover the no photo policy.. Luckily I had my trusty well worn sketchbook with me. It turned out that I was happy not to be focused on taking pictures and being able to just absorb the beauty and information around me and take a moment to jot down a few details that really interested me.

None of these doodles are of any importance, the details just caught my eye and asked to be noted. Perhaps someday they will find a way into my art or not... This simple sketching works for me. It's just enough to jog my memory. How intricate is your sketchbook?

what inspires...

Where do you draw inspiration as an artist? Natalya here to tell you where I get mine...

If you take a peek at my art you'll see that obviously I am very inspired by architecture. All sorts of architectural styles from Romanesque to Baroque to Modern, with many things in between. I am especially inspired by architectural signatures that certain cities have. Such as New York is usually instantly apparent in a snapshot. Other cities maybe a bit more difficult to recognize: it is Paris or is Prague? Some cities have almost a color signature, Venice anyone? Or St.Petersburg? I could go crazy here... so I stay focused on just two cities for now.

And it's not just the structures that are inspiring, the textures too. Dilapidated or shiny new.

a wall in St. Petersburg

rainy steps at Lincoln Center

But you know what else inspires me? And feeds my architectural work at the same time? Nature. Yup, the greatest architect there is. Take a look at these recent photos I took and see how much architecture is in them.

city streets?

parks commission?

city blocks?

steps?

What inspires your art?

From a Single Poppy

Gloria here.

I get immense enjoyment from photography and often use it as a springboard for various design ideas and the basis of new artwork. A year or so back, a new hospital was constructed in the area.  As a result of that construction, there were some gorgeous poppy fields that sprung up that I happily visited and photographed on several occasions.  Yesterday I drove over to see what the poppy fields might look like. Unfortunately, with the earth now settled, there were far more daisies and other wildflowers than poppies. Even so, I managed to find a few few to photograph. This is an example of how one poppy became the springboard to various ideas.

This is the original photo. It's not particularly good, but I like the flower in focus and the soft light behind it.

I used the "content aware fill" to get rid of the weed on the upper right, and I used the "exposure brush" to darken the left edge.

I then added a mask to the edge to create a frame. This I will print as is for my journal.

In this version, I played around with the colors, clarity, and edge to create another look.

One of my favorite things to do in Photoshop is chop up images, repeat portions, and see what happens.  I refer to them as "chop and repeats." I do this as a jumping off point to see what types of ideas might happen. It becomes very addictive, with one idea immediately giving way to the next. Luckily I recently got a new 3 TB hard drive, so I have plenty of space for play.  By the end of last night, I had a folder filled with nearly 50 variations (and I have no doubt I will be doing more, as the ideas keep coming).

 

Next I will print many of these "chop and repeats" along with the original source photos to add into my sketchbook. My hope is they will become a springboard for some smaller works in fiber.  I am already anxious to use the photo itself for some watercolor sketches.  What fun!

challenging materials

Hello! Natalya here...
Lately I seem to be enjoying challenging myself with materials. I have always worked with recyclables in my art quilting, but mostly that has been vintage linens, dryer sheets and the occasional bubble wrap... This year I seem to have upped my ante without even noticing...

cut up and layered plastic bags

First I dove into using plastics. Within a few weeks of collecting plastic bags from various supermarket trips I had enough materials to create several artworks almost entirely of plastic.

mittens and twigs!

Then I invited my friends to contribute to my self-imposed challenge. I am currently making portraits of their homes and for materials using ephemera that they collected for me. What was I thinking?  Well... I was thinking it would be fun actually!
In the first portrait I made, I was given worn out wool mittens, twigs, tissue paper and dryer sheets. It was a fun challenge to figure out. Somehow the mittens made a perfect lawn and the color of the tissue paper was the same shade as the stucco house.

brochures!

The next challenging bit of ephemera that's on my work table currently is mostly paper. Brochures from various parks, house plans and ticket stubs. This home portrait will be completely different from the previous one. But will I be able to keep it all in my style? Sure hope so..

What challenging materials have you worked with?

Series

Hi, it's Kristin this time. In my previous life as a graphic designer, working in a series was something of a foreign concept. With each client came a new set of parameters and goals. When I took up quilting, a series was far from my mind as well. Unless you count baby quilts for friends as a series (which one totally could if one wanted). But as my work became less practical and more conceptual (and after many years of learning various techniques and themes), I began to work in series. Once you realize that you have ideas that can't be fully explored in one piece, it's pretty much inevitable. At first it was vague -- just a tendency towards landscapes. Then I had an idea for a war quilt (War Sucks). That quickly spawned more ideas, which then became The Army Wife series.

 

 Some people look for strict rules about working in a series, but for me it's just about continuity. That continuity could be size, color, technique, or just a theme or story line. It's about exploring an idea. When there's no more interest in that exploration, then the artist moves on. I've been working on the Army Wife for about four years, and I have a few more pieces I'd like to make. But...

 I had an idea last week. Security Blankets. I'm intrigued. I'm making lists of places to go with this. Lots of ideas to explore. This will be my new series. Of course, that doesn't mean I can't go back to a previous series if I want to. And the new series may or may not have legs. But, my brain has just jumped tracks, so off we must go.

 Do you work in a series, and if so, when do you know a new line of exploration has begun?

By the way, three aprons in The Army Wife series are traveling in SAQA's Beyond Comfort show and are currently at their last stop, Texas A&M University, until August 18th, 2013. Absence II, another in the series is part of an SDA regional show at Craddock Terry Gallery in Lynchburg, VA until June 16th, 2013.

playing with plastic

Hello Natalya here, typing with gluey fingers after the latest experiment. Lately I have found myself working with plastics once again. Those horrendous plastic bags that are still used in all the big box stores around here. Somehow, even though I mostly remember to bring my own cloth bags, I still wind up with tons of the plastic in my house. Occasionally I'll use them for texture, clear layer or shine in my work. But recently I endeavored to create a whole piece just from plastic.

In the past I have simply layered the plastic, pinned and stitched right thru it. But plastic tends to slide and that does not achieve perfect placement, which is usually OK by me, except that this time I was looking for something more precise. So I decided to experiment with matte medium.

I drew my basic sketch on paper and started cutting and layering the plastic right on top. Between each layer and the paper I added a light wash of matte medium. I smoothed things out as I worked, and all seemed to be going well. Until it dried. First off, I rediscovered that glue trapped between plastic sheets takes an awfully long time to dry... And when it does dry - it puckers. I was a bit worried that I'd have to scrap things..

I thought I'd outline-stitch my buildings first and then see how I feel. Things were still puckery, but I wanted to keep going.

By the time I stitched the details, the puckers did not bother me so much. I kind of liked the extra texture they added.

I moved on to the hand stitched details and the puckers were not an issue at all. Now hand stitching consumed all my attention and demanded more and more.

Here is a detail of the finished piece. See the full picture on my blog here. 

I am continuing with my plastics experiment: there is a sister piece to the "Glass Bridge" above, which is about to get its hand stitched details. It had a lot more time to dry, so I am curious to see if it'll feel different to stitch through. And for the piece after that, I intend to try fusing the plastics together. My only worry is about the fumes...glad spring is here...all my studio windows will be open!

A Wild Hair

Hi, it's Kristin. I have a bit of a split personality when it comes to my creativity. Sometimes I'm more crafty, particularly when the blogosphere conjures up something excruciatingly cute, or clever, or mushroom themed. Sometimes I'm a quilter. I really, really, like scrappy quilts with simple geometric shapes and feel the urge to make one every so often -- especially when my scrap bin starts overflowing.  Most of the time I consider myself an artist and have been working diligently on creating a cohesive body of work, which right now centers mainly around houses with roots and facets of military spouse-ness.

But last week I got a wild hair. An idea I thought too good to pass up, but not at all in the line of what I had been creating. I've been worrying that I have no context for this. I can't show it with my other work because it is so different. I don't know where to exhibit it, or how to properly share it with the world. I could ignore the idea, and move on, but where's the fun in that? I slept on it and was still jazzed in the morning. It's consumed me all week!

 

What does one do when excited about something that doesn't fit into their usual sphere? It's a quilt, and my family plans to use it on the sofa -- it's craft. It's social commentary inspired by an internet meme, and references a historical artist -- it's art. It's quirky. It's not about being an Army Wife, or the dream house I wish for. It's an artistic conundrum for me.

 

Now, having written this post, I see that rather than being a complete anomaly, this quilt may actually be a perfect amalgam of ALL my maker personalities -- artist, crafter, nerd. I'm still not sure what to do with it though.