At play in the garden of stitch

Three weeks, three pieces, three inspirations. My weeks have been full of obligations and distractions so I haven’t been able to concentrate on much of anything in my studio. The distractions were also inspirations. So my art shows it.

Those who follow my work will know that I tend to avoid patterned fabrics. Since my focus is on the stitching I like a background that is open and structured. This piece is exemplary of that technique.

Whispered nothings, Paula Kovarik.

These detailed stitch drawings bring story to shape. In this case the story is about the media and how we get our news. The texture that develops can add another layer of drama.

Detail stitching both by hand and machine betray my tendency to believe that more is, in fact, more.

But what now? After a workshop with Pamela Allen I did some hand stitching. This time patterned fabrics were part of the composition — foreign territory for me. I am not a patient hand stitcher so I started machine stitching after awhile.

Patterned fabrics add a sense of mystery to this composition. Stitching adds texture.

This one will stay on the board for awhile until I have the patience to stitch on it some more.

And then I spent a few days with Maria Shell building a community quilt with some folks in Memphis. Her fabrics added a sense of joy and energy to our community quilt that challenged my vision of how things go together. I mined the garbage can to come up with some scraps that I could experiment with on my own.

The scraps are ironed onto a navy blue background.

Added some stitching

And some more stitching.

Then some more stitching. I want to call this “We don’t know what’s down there” because it reminds me of a National Geographic special on the ocean that I watched last week.

I’ve been so happy to have the time to work on these experiments. And happier still to have the opportunity to learn from other artists. Thanks to Michael Brennand-Wood, Pamela Allen and Maria Shell I have a new box of toys to play with.

No turning back

I had the privilege of spending a week at a Shakerag Workshop with Michael Brennand-Wood this past week. It was partially an escape from Memphis and the quilt festival that has entangled my spare moments and partially a way to peel back ossified habits and open up new space in my brain.

It worked on both accounts.

Fungi is an assemblage of quilt pieces, wire structures, wood, stitch and felt—A study in growth and emergence.

First, let me praise Shakerag Workshops. This place is a magical oasis in the hills of Tennessee that brings serious artists (both skilled and unskilled) and teachers to play with each other. The atmosphere is educated, welcoming and full of joy. And the food was from the gods. Go there. No, really, go there.

Michael’s class was called Random Precision: 3-Dimensional Line, Stitch, Structure and Light. We used drills, saws, glue, paint, thread, nails, twisty ties, wires and our thoughts to explore space, light and structure. Michael talked about building artwork physically but also conceptually. We considered the push and pull of dark and light, hard and soft, and structured and unstructured bits. It was a joy. And, it will change the way I look at my own work.

I have been eager to explore 3D qualities with my stitching. Through quilting I can build or deconstruct a flat surface that speaks to my fingers. The traveling thread becomes a narrative element that translates my thoughts. Now I will explore how that thread can build space, encapsulate ideas and stretch the boundaries.

Meek is a bundle of threads and wires.

Eek celebrates stitch and fabric by offering up samples to consider.

These figures and assemblages spoke to me. They tickle my fancy and release the prankster within. They breathe life and rhythm into my space.

Thank you Michael. One of the most generous teachers I have had.

many moons

I was not in a colorful mood. So this piece will linger on the boards for a while before I get back to it.

I came back from a number of trips last month with a swarm of images floating through my thoughts but no map to figure out how they go together. It was frustrating to feel so aimless. I looked around at the work that I had done prior to my trips and felt totally disconnected from them.

My friend Jeanne Seagle, a very talented artist here in Memphis said the following in an interview: “Make a lot of work. Put the good stuff in shows. Recognize the bad stuff, and put it in the closet. After a while maybe you can fix it. If not, you can still learn from it what not to do. Just don’t show it.“

After a few days and a number of puzzled thoughts I decided to be radical. I took out all of my older pieces lurking under the studio tables and made some judgements. Some still spoke to me about their intent and focus. Others did not. Some showed a learning curve in the stitching that no longer represents my work. Others were pieces that didn’t get done.

This piece never got done. It was an experiment with geometry and connections.

I chose a few and laid them out on the cutting board for some fun with rotary cutter.

Fun with my rotary cutter. No piece is sacred.

This piece, called Keeping up with the Dow Jones, was done in 2009. I’m over it.

Just that act of cutting up several pieces into 2.5” squares was a release from the aimlessness. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go with it but I knew it was the right step. Catharsis. Resolve…and a little panic.

After some mix and matching, twisting and turning I finally came up with a composition that seemed to hold together. I stitched the squares onto a canvas backing. All 420 of them.

And now the fun begins. My goal as an artist is to channel what is invisible into the visible. The work I do is intuitive and exploratory. I’m never quite sure what will result with a piece like this. I just know that I am channeling lots of different emotions and thoughts. Beauty, complexity, doubt, anger, worry, whimsy, calm and depth. They are all in there. The layering of stitch and fabric brings out the best (and worst) of me.

I’m going to call it Many Moons. Because that’s how long it will take to finish it and because its taken me many moons to get to this stage in my work.

Is it the weather?

Hot. humid brain. Clouds too full to stay afloat. No focus. Time to walk away from existing projects. Instead, I had a quilt camp week. Two very promising artists participated. We talked about modules, grids, color theory, stitching and machines. They both learned how to build compositions from scraps, thread the machines, trim their work with a rotary cutter and stitch with a free-motion foot. The terms strip piecing, log cabin, and machine appliqué now have meaning to them. They followed the rules and broke the rules. As they should. 

Did I say promising? No. These boys had it going on. They fell into the slipstream of stitching with no fear, no preconceived notions and a willingness to learn. 

Bravo. 

On the sideline I played with their leftovers to create this blue state red state composition. And since I was a bit pre-occupied with making sure that they were safe I had to work fast and without boundaries or rules. No seams, no careful stitching, no worries. I may pursue this practice a bit. I have bundles and bundles of scraps to consider. 

Blue state, red state. Work-in-progress. Paula Kovarik

After they left I pursued some of the work I had already begun. A new Glyphs piece (see another Glyphs piece here). These glyphs have bodies. 

Glyphs enlarged, work-in-progress. Paula Kovarik

Meanwhile, I watch too much TV news is sitting in my hand-stitching chair. Using a needle to poke into that fabric roll is satisfying. Like a little voodoo panel that lets me get away with commentary. 

I'm scattered but productive. Confused but dogged. Doubt-filled but determined. Fuzzy-brained and seeking clarity.

Maybe it's the weather. 

The Dark Side

I stitch all day on the front side of my quilts. The journey from idea to final is often full of surprises. I look for that in each piece like finding a needle among pins.

These blocky forms cry out for some textural details.

So when I started this piece, now called Disruptors, my focus was on the front. The images are strong geometric shapes with details that look like animals or confused beings.  My challenge is to bridge the blocky forms with line work that makes sense. 

I'm always looking for ways to bridge differences. I ask myself these questions:

  • How does one fabric, color or texture relate to the next?
  • Where are the direction lines in the composition?
  • What would texture do to make this piece stronger?
  • Where can I add an element of continuity without sacrificing the chaos that I am going for?
Bridging gives structure, action and depth.

I started here by outlining the blocky shapes with a bright orange thread. Then did some ricochet stitching in the white areas of the piece. By ricochet I mean that I travel across a space until I hit an imaginary barrier than pivot and do the same until I hit another. It's like a ping pong ball bouncing in an empty room. The texture often ends up being an assemblage of triangles. Those complement the triangles in my print. Each character in this stage has a unique personality. So I decided to use a different texture in each element. Easy right? The variety of the shapes and textures added to a sense of chaos and disruption and the orange thread pumped up the drama. I thought I had it.

The textural differences in each character adds depth to the piece.

And then I turned the piece over to clean up any loose threads.

Disruptors, back side, Paula Kovarik

Disruptors, back side, Paula Kovarik

Oh my. Hello stranger. where have you been these past two weeks? 

Disruptors, back detail. Paula Kovarik

This is the back side of the second image in this post. I'm loving that orange/yellow line.

There are always two sides to every stitched story.  I am entranced by this one. I am even willing to sacrifice the front to continue on the back. I'm not sure what this side is telling me but I will continue to build on it before I end this journey. Perhaps the message will emerge.