As children, we learned about our world through exploration and play. Our creative pursuits as adults should be no different. Often, in creating textile artworks, we’re so focussed on getting a perfect end result that we lose sight of how important it is to follow our instincts and make the process our own. While we might learn the rudiments of an artistic technique by following someone else’s pattern, true satisfaction comes from taking that technique, pushing its limits, and putting our own spin on it. But how do we do that?
Most of us, when we began our fibre art journey, started by following patterns and in the learning process gained some valuable skills. That was the case for me when I learned traditional quilting. Over time, through experimentation with shapes and colours, I was able to break the rules and push the boundaries of what textiles could do. I also had a little nudge from the goddess of art.
It happened in 2008 when I was working on a small abstract art quilt [below left, combining a variety of textiles, including cheesecloth, and stitching them to a background fabric. The goddess of art smiled and, when the quilt was rotated, the cheesecloth shape seemed almost human [below right]. Intrigued by the challenge of how I might achieve a more faithful rendering of a figure, I learned very quickly that dry cheesecloth has a mind of its own and stubbornly resists all attempts to force it to retain a specific shape. That led to experimentation with different gel mediums to wet the fibres so I could sculpt them into the desired shape.
Click on the image to enlarge it.
Click on the image to enlarge it.
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I discovered a wonderful copyright-free photo by Chalmers Butterfield, “Elderly Woman,” (below left) and using that as a model, I dipped pieces of white and black cheesecloth in gloss gel medium, squeezed out the excess, and attempted to manipulate the fibres into position on a sheet of plastic according to the values in the photo. When they were dry, I stitched them to a background of white and black linen, sprayed textile paint through an old lace tablecloth to give the impression of drapes and titled it “Waiting.” (Below right.) I had no idea I was embarking on a body of work that would occupy my creative life for the next fifteen years, and possibly beyond.
Original photo by Chalmers Butterfield.
Waiting. Click to enlarge, to see the details.
More experimentation followed as I adjusted the process to create increasingly detailed likenesses (below), and challenged myself to replicate unusual textures like zippers and grommets.
Homeless Love
The Other 1
While I appreciated the drama of the black and white portraits, I wanted to incorporate colour in my work, so I began dyeing cheesecloth and painting or stitching the background fabrics. Whenever I discovered a new product at the art supply store—like Caran D’Ache Neocolor® II water-soluble wax pastels, I could not resist trying them in combination with cheesecloth, occasionally veering away from portraits to subject matter like animals (below) and landscapes. These days, when I teach my cheesecloth technique to students, I encourage them to tackle any subject matter. I am hard-pressed to think of a subject that could not be rendered in cheesecloth.
Equus – reference photo by M. Bednar. Click to enlarge.
Jumbo Grizzly – reference photo by S. Ogle. Click to enlarge.
Lighthouse Keeper
Reverie – reference photo by M. Geller.
A World of Difference – reference photo by S. Faulkner.
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All images by Mary Pal, unless otherwise noted.
