a post of 2 halves - FoQ + 20 things not to say to (textile) artists

slow, quiet note no.29

I’ll be making my annual pilgrimage to Birmingham’s NEC on Friday for this year’s Festival of Quilts.

An exhibit from the Quilters’ Guild, British Quilt Study Group at FoQ 2024

The FoQ is fantastic and I have been privileged to see work by international textile artists including India Flint and Judith E Martin over the years as well as countless quilts from the collection of the UK Quilters Guild based in York. This year I’ll be heading straight from the station to the galleries hosting Sara Impey and Anitha Reddy before checking out the rest of the show.

Detail, Judith Martin, FoQ, 2024

The four-day extravaganza is organised, administered and curated by the Quilters Guild itself and involves a veritable army of volunteers who install, judge and steward the event. In addition to the couple of acres worth of quilt-related shopping opportunities, the exhibition of competition quilts is vast, varied and, in truth, pretty overwhelming.

Quilting has a long and well-documented history and some of the exhibition categories exemplify the technical skills and exactitude rooted in traditional piecing and hand quilting techniques. There is evidence of great care, creativity and meticulous attention to detail in every piece submitted for judging.

Having the opportunity to see the tiniest handstitches made across kingsized whole cloth quilts in close quarters is awe-inspiring. Examples of intricate piecing, geometry and colour theory abound. There is also an increasing recognition of contemporary quilt making practices with space and freedom for makers and artists to stretch those traditional methods, extending them into collage, installation, sculpture and wearable quilted garments.

Over 22,000 people visit the show each year, many of whom attend a huge variety of workshops and talks where renowned tutors and artists share their work. Similar to the Knitting and Stitching Show which takes place in a number of venues across the UK, one of my favourite things about the Festival of Quilts is the feeling of being in a place where everyone ‘gets it’. There is shared enthusiasm, interest and a common language where the traditional boundaries between ‘Art’ and ‘Craft’ are happily blurred and accepted.

Outside these short-lived celebrations, however, there are occasions when conversations about quilts and creative textiles can be trickier. Sometimes comments and suggestions, no matter how well-meaning, can feel less than supportive. A stoic, calm expression and neutral nodding can be useful in these situations and if I find myself on one side of these conversations, I like to employ what I like to think of as my ‘resting stitch face’ strategy.

Before I launch into this week’s unsolicited personal opinion, I would like to acknowledge my bias and personal blindspots in relation to many subjects and activities. For example, I have almost zero interest in team sports beyond the fact that most of the people I know and love derive a great deal of pleasure from watching other people hit, throw or run about after balls of varying sizes. In addition, despite enjoying ‘Wolf Hall’ immensely, I have retained zero facts from my history ‘O’ level. I love a cinema trip but sci-fi, hobbit-related and super-hero films leave me cold (and often asleep).

I am interested in art, creativity, writing and collecting. I have visited many exhibitions, galleries, art fairs, craft shows and open studios and I can’t think of a show or exhibition where I couldn’t find something to appreciate or admire. There have, indeed, been exhibitions that have taken my breath away and stayed with me for months, years even. That’s another post for another day.

And, of course, I have my own particular taste, interests, likes and dislikes but I applaud anyone who has ever got up in the morning and taken it upon themselves to make something, anything - a poem, a book, a painting, a sculpture, a crocheted cat, a drawing, a cake, a pair of socks. As Joseph Beuys said ‘Everyone is an artist’.

There can, however, be something a little awkward about situations where the artist or maker is present, live and in-person in the same room as their work. Chats between artists and their audiences/clients/buyers can be an enriching exchange of ideas and connection but, equally, they can be something else entirely. When this happens, I offer my ‘resting stitch face’ strategy as a form of defence and distraction.

I first experienced this when I was keeping a friend of mine company many moons ago during an open studio/art trail. One particular visitor burst through the door, circled the room once and then spent forty minutes, chin resting on palm, sharing his own creative process at great length and suggesting (more than once) that she might like to improve her paintings by following his very detailed critique.

In hindsight, it was a clumsy episode of mansplaining before mansplaining was a thing but I’ve overheard and been on the receiving end of many helpful (and not so helpful) creative suggestions and have, I’m sure, offered a few of my own as well.

To that end and in recognition of the risks and perils of unsolicited creative advice, here’s a handy list of things you might want to think rather than say when in the company of your friendly, neighbourhood textile artist:

• that would make a fabulous cushion cover (unless it’s already a cushion cover)

• could you make that into a Christmas card?

• how do you find the time?

• I haven’t got your patience

• where do you buy your threads, fabric, needles, materials, inks, patterns?

• did you learn that from Youtube?

• I can’t draw

• I can’t thread a needle

• my Nan/Aunt/Mum/Cousin used to crochet those loo roll holders in the seventies

• have you thought of putting it on Etsy?

• could you knit me a cardigan? make me a skirt? alter my curtains?

• would you take a tenner?

• that’s amazing, it looks like it was made by a machine

• was that from a kit?

• could you make one to go in my downstairs loo?

• I’ve seen one of those on amazon/ebay for twenty quid

• can I take a picture (to work out how I might do what you’ve done)?

• that looks just like something (insert name of artist) would make

• I’d like it better if it had a bit more blue in it?

• am sure I’ve got one just like that in the garage/attic/cupboard

I have, over the years, come to terms with my overly-expressive face and have, in the past, been gently advised that I might not be suited to a career on the professional poker circuit.

When I worked in offices and had to go to actual meetings about quite important (yet recurring) issues I would have to concentrate very, very hard to keep the windows of my soul front and centre and resist the urge to send my eyebrows and eyeballs skyward if the conversation was heading towards boring, irritating or pointless. Developing a middle-distance stare, deep breathing and offering to take notes were useful strategies. That middle-distance stare has developed into my very own ‘resting stitch face’, see below.

A few more very welcome subscribers have arrived here this week so I thought today would be as good a day as any to shake off the camera-shyness and share this studio pic. Another small step outside the comfort zone as I try to get over my photo-phobia (something I need to work on if I want to host more online workshops and tutorials).

As ever, thank you for taking the time to read this week’s slow, quiet note. Your likes, comments and shares are very much appreciated. These Sunday posts will continue to remain free to read for all but if you would like to support my writing and work, I have set up an option to buy me an occasional or monthly coffee (or, in my case, threads and fabric).

Have a great week.

J x