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| Brooke Atherton "Twenty Feet Deep" |
In my last post, I wrote about how artist statements/labels can bring us to a deeper meaning, and that sometimes having someone "interpret" the piece brings greater understanding. At the same time, sometimes the message which the viewer receives is just as valid, although different, than the artist's intent.
At the Art Quilt Elements opening at the Wayne Art Center, I over heard two women puzzling over Brooke Atherton's "I Feel Free." I am familiar with Brooke's manner of working and, in true Lisa form, felt I had to share that Brooke's works often spill off the walls.
The artists statements (which to my mind is sort of a misnomer...as I usually think of the artist statement as explaining in general why they do what they do, whereas a label is the explanation or statement about the individual piece) were limited to 100 words, basically the length of the first two paragraphs I have written here. Brooke wrote about her piece as showing resilience in the face of destruction and references fires, and tornados. The yellow dress which gives you the feeling of blowing away in a tornado is the matron of honor dress Brooke wore at her sister's wedding, and she told you about that in her statement....but that was about all.
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| Brooke Atherton, "I Feel Free" |
I asked Brooke to share with me the details of "I feel Free", and was moved by her eloquence and the deep meaning which it held. Her response was 1,450 words....I struggle with this as I know that many people wouldn't bother to read this much, in fact, you might not, but I encourage you to do so as it is a wonderful story. I also understand that it is expensive to produce hard copy catalogs and labels on the wall.
Perhaps Susan Lenz really has the right idea when she spoke of having a link to a webpage identified by a QR (quick-read) code. I have pondered this as I don't like the idea of excluding people who don't have the tablets or smart phones to read them. I've puzzled over how galleries could provide "loaners" to be able to read the QR codes...but maybe a few hard copies would solve that problem. Certainly, linking it to a webpage would be quick and inexpensive as Susan pointed out to me.
So, here's Brooke's story about this piece, "I feel Free" and the "long red one" at the top of this post which is "Twenty Feet Under."
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| "I Feel Free" Detail |
“I
Feel Free” is a companion piece to “Twenty Feet”, which was a device
constructed to measure the depth of floodwaters in New Orleans after the
Katrina fiasco. It quickly evolved into a commentary on news coverage
(repetitive, meaningless, and obscene—those reporters were getting off on being
in the middle of total destruction), the rapid breakdown of the social order,
and a measure of grief and despair. To the base layers of that quilt, I
started adding measurements. I walked through my house measuring
the heights of things I care about, things I would miss if they floated out of
my life. When I added in my own 5’6 ½”, I was barely a fourth of the way
to the twenty feet deep that the flood waters reached in places. (We duck taped
it to the apex of our house roof to get a full length photo when it was
finished—about 1 ½ feet of it still laid on the grass. I would have lost
everything I have carefully surrounded myself with. The piece actually measures
16 inches W x 21 ½ feet tall) At that point it quit being a game,
and the enormity of the destruction began to sink in. At the time I was
working on this, two of my friends were diagnosed with stage 4 cancer (colon
and lung), one in Ohio and one here. They never met, but emailed a bit
about treatments, etc, building a relationship that made me feel left out at
times. The day I caught myself actually wishing I had cancer so I
wouldn’t feel excluded made me realize I was measuring and cataloging things of
Biblical proportions. The age old lament “Why have you forsaken us?” was
swirling around and around in my head, so I burned it into fabric, stitched it
in, and eventually the words deconstructed into pure marks—stitches of
different colors, different threads repeated over and over into a black cloud of
total despair, anger, and terror, like a black cloud overhead. At that
point on the quilt, the stitching was so dense I made holes in my fingers from
trying to push fat needles through the layers. Using a thimble seemed
like cheating—with so many in so much pain and despair, how could I not add a
little of my own blood, tears, pain, literally.
“Twenty
Feet” was shown in a special exhibit about the Katrina flooding that Laura
Cater-Woods put together for the quilt show in Lowell , Mass. It came home with
three (3!) Judge’s Choice ribbons (from Martine House, Joe the Quilter, and
Susan Carlson), even though it wasn’t in the judged portion of the show.
Over the years, it’s also gone to a handful of other venues, but the size made
it impossible to enter into most shows. So I NEVER thought I’d make
another one ….
To
celebrate the fifth anniversary of Katrina, the show “Still We Rise Again” sent
out a call for work related to it. They were looking for things of a
spiritually uplifting, positive nature. I read about the show and knew I
needed to be part of it. I needed to honor those friends, who were my
cheerleaders—the ones who’s faith in me and my work kept me working when I
didn’t see the value in anything I had to say. ‘ Relevance’ was a big issue to
me when I reentered the art world. Who would be interested in anything a
white, middle-class, middle-aged woman had to say? ( Since then, there
have been studies about the ‘Grandmother Factor’—the theory that civilization
and human development were able to take a giant leap forward because we began
living long enough for menopause to kick in, and that having non-childbearing
women around to help nurture and teach enabled language, art, etc. to
flourish. I’m sure I’m misstating this, but the idea made me reevaluate
this stage of my life. We rule!) So, with about 2 weeks to develop
an idea and build the piece, I dove in.
I
had some of the fabric elements left from “Twenty Feet”, so dug them out and
started there. The next day we had our art quilt (WAV) meeting, and
someone there brought a nasty-looking plastic baggie. She lives on a
ranch in WY, and said they had a trailer fire on their property years ago and
every now and then goes over to check on what’s left of it. She said it’s
finally looking ‘Brooke-ish’! So, she brought the bag full of broken
pottery, metal…things, etc., all charred and dusty. I thought—how cool,
and wanted to work them into the bottom section of “I Feel Free”, the part that
represents destruction. We have learned through the years that it’s okay
to keep to our regular schedule (we meet every third Sunday of each month) even
if it falls on Father’s Day, because most of our husbands and sons really don’t
mind. So, that’s how I know it was in June. After I got home from
the meeting, I sorted through the bag to see what I could use (Parris was
golfing, so I had it spread out on the dining room table). And that’s
about when the hail storm and tornado hit. Our neighborhood was hit hard
by the hail, but the tornado was at the bottom of the big hill, and followed
Main St. up the hill, so I didn’t know about it til later. Main st. is
the busiest street in the entire state of Montana , supposedly, so that was a
major event. The tornado landed squarely on the Metra center, which is
where all the big events are held, from rodeos to concerts. If it had
happened the night before, thousands of people would have been there, but on
Sunday evening no one was inside. Parris had to walk home from the golf
course because they wouldn’t let cars through the flooding. Men on foot
were okay, though—go figure. We spent a year rebuilding, re-roofing,
etc. I used a couple pieces in the quilt from my huge red ware bowl that
now has 2 perfect half-moon holes from the baseball-sized hail. So, I was
able to include something of my own!
The
next day, my youngest sister called from Ohio , to say that she had kicked her
boyfriend of many years out. He is an alcoholic, as was her husband
before him. I asked her to please get counseling, for herself and her
daughter, and find out why she’s drawn to guys who drink too much, and she has
thank goodness. The dress is the one I wore as her matron of honor, and
never wore again because it’s a color that looks awful on me. But it
looks great on the blue-dye painted Lutradur I had laying around… So,
there were all the major elements, presented to me over a two-day period.
I asked my sister what she thought about me cutting up the dress and using
it. She laughed, and said “I would be honored for you to use my sucky
life to make art.” So this became a message to her daughter, my 13-yr old
niece, about strength and resilience. Even the choice of the word
‘resilience’ is part of the story now. A little over a year ago, a
friend’s house was pulverized when a several-ton boulder rolled down the hill
and destroyed it. I hate ‘pitying’ anyone—that’s so demeaning—so I was
delighted to watch them rebound. They will soon be moving into an old
factory building in the trendy, artsy, downtown area, that has been re-designed
as a house/studio/gallery! How could I have had so little faith in
them? Anyway, ‘resilience’ is the word she uses a lot now, and I asked
her if I could borrow it. She graciously actually gave it to me.
(She’s the one who is instrumental in getting the Live Well grant for the new
group she started here. She’s been active in using the arts in hospitals
for years. She’s my new hero.)
One
thing that both quilts share, other than size, is their structure. The
bamboo sticks aren’t just decorative. They are the system for folding the
fabric back and forth (then are tied together) so they can be displayed in
different configurations and sizes. Who has walls tall enough to stretch
them out? In my dreams, Oprah or Brangelina will buy these two pieces and
permanently install them in a library or other public building in New Orleans ,
in giant plexi boxes. They’re the only people I know of who care that
much about NOLA, and can afford that much plexi.
I love what Brooke had to say....a friend of mine was taken with her comment "How could I have so little faith in them?" saying that we often don't give our friends and relations the credit for the inner strength which we all have.
Certainly, Brooke has given us a lot to think about, and people who are able to see "I Feel Free" would benefit from reading this remarkable story, especially after they too have looked at it and listened to what it had to say to them individually.
