London and the Brick

Once more the ghastly spectre of a professional exhibiting category versus a strictly amateur one has raised its hollowed-eyed head. I am a long-time opponent of separating the exhibiting categories into these two factions.

The Sandia Mountains and Turquoise Trail committees for Albuquerque Fiber Art Fiesta have decided to do just that--to make another subdivision in all the categories for awards. So there are ten more categories, all of which need a professional to enter them.

The AFAF is now open to all fiber artists in the USA--not just members of the supporting guilds. Consequently the Fiesta will be advertising nationally to bring more artists to exhibit. This is really a wonderful idea. The AFAF is a tremendous venue for us to see such a huge range of fiber art and meet fiber artists. The vendors are spectacular with their huge variety of wares that we rarely see in one place all together.

Admittedly I am a little late to put to put my 2¢ in, but I have written about this before. And it may seem self-serving that I, as maybe the only professional who enters the embroidery categories at this point, make this protest. On the other hand, if I am the only person in the categories, maybe I will win more ribbons. Maybe. But this is not my point.

My point is that a person can best improve her skills and creativity by exhibiting against the best there is. If professionals are the best (and separating them out from the amateurs seems to confirm this belief), then the amateurs have no real goals to achieve except to excel as second-best.

A long time ago in a city far away, right after I joined the EGA, I was in an exhibit put on by my chapter, the now disbanded Creative Needlework Chapter in Collingswood, NJ. We were a young, very active chapter who could get nearly 100% participation in a show. The exhibit was held in a large department store that gave us space in some upstairs rooms with glass cases on the walls. We had an embroidery teacher come down from Princeton, I believe, to judge the show. There was no professional category, just original and non-original in the various types of needlework. I was the newest member and really didn’t expect to win anything, but I did original work at that time, almost exclusively. I had entered a needlepoint-covered brick doorstop. It was an ocean scene with crashing surf and beach with sea creatures crawling on it. Someone in my family still has that brick. I was delighted with it, but I knew that I still hadn’t mastered the medium.

A woman by the name of Sherry London was also in the chapter and she was a professional. She had published a book and she had designed several kits that sold at least locally. Her needlepoint was of a lion with a mane of bullion knots. It was cute thing. She won. I was not disappointed (there were no second and third prizes--only best in category), but I had several women come up an actually apologize to me about my “loss.” They felt that I should have won just so that I would be encouraged to keep working originally. My work was good, but in a show where technique counted for three points and originality counted only for two, Sherry was bound to win. I did not begrudge her the win. But she never beat me again. Second best should not win: only the best should. It was a valuable lesson to me.

I know as a professional that I cannot devote the time to stitching that an amateur can. In the past year I have been writing classes and my embroidery output has dropped enormously. Everyone needs to practice to keep up skills for exhibiting. In the last Fiesta I did not win three blue ribbons for my three entries. An amateur has every opportunity to study as much as a professional, to work as hard as a professional, and to practice hard. What is magic about that? What is the difference? I personally know of several people right here in Albuquerque who are better at some needlework skills than I am. The way to win blue ribbons is not to exclude people who may be better than I am from the categories, but to include them, so I can hone my skills for next time and bring home the blue!

Judge and Juror

I enter a lot of art shows and exhibits and have done so for many years. In the beginning, in New Jersey in the early 80s, I can remember how wounded I was when I was rejected from shows. It was not easy. Though I do remember one in which my work was accepted. The piece in question was a five foot in diameter round art quilt. It was (and still is for that matter) called The Tree of Knowledge Was a Cherry. It had a naked Adam and Eve standing under a tree with very large cherries on it. Now this quilt had already hung in a show in Morristown, NJ and had gotten some plaudits. It eventually went on to hang at the EGA 1983 National Seminar Education Exhibit. But back to the rejection part of this tale. My work was selected to hang at a church-sponsored exhibit, not only the quilt, but several other things. At the last minute I was informed that the quilt couldn't hang because of its unorthodox and controversial subject--the very subject that got it in in the first place! So I completely withdrew from the show. I was miffed. And I still am.

The deal is that the judges jury your work in one instant in one day. The day can be bright or rainy. The judge could have spilled coffee all over herself driving in or could have asked her husband for a divorce that morning. That judge is human and is affected by human happenings. So it doesn't pay to become too upset about one rejection. Presumably there there will be a next time, unless you are suicidal. I still get rejections. I entered three very good pieces, in my estimation, into the 19th National EGA Exhibit in May of this year. Two were utterly turned down. They are good pieces and one is already in another gallery. But one did get in--and it won two prizes.

So back to the beginning. Rejection is hard to take. In the early days I was glum for days and couldn't get the rejections out of my mind. At this time I was also starting out as a new teacher of embroidery. I was getting some rejections there too. I remembered to try to not take it so personally. But it was hard. Nowadays? I hardly remember half an hour later that I was rejected. I have a fleeting feeling of sadness and then I am on to the next thing. A piece utterly rejected from one show can be the grand prize winner of the next. You just need confidence in yourself and in your work. To that end, never stop learning the craft and never stop experimenting.

The difference between judging and jurying? To be juried into a show is the first stage. A judge (sometimes called a juror) decides whether your work will fit into the current show. The award is just to get in in the first place. Then from the juried pieces the judging occurs. Not all shows have both judging and jurying, but some do. The judging is for the awards, like first and second place, or the jurors' awards.

I rarely enter exhibits where there is no jurying. It doesn't matter to me whether or not it is judged. A non-juried show does my resume no good. My prize pieces do not look their best if low quality, poorly done stuff is hanging right next to them. I like prizes and fancy ribbons as much as the next gal, but I much prefer just to get into a prestigious show.

Wednesday and the Art

An artist support group is an essential part of my doing art. A support group meets regularly with its main purpose being to nourish the artist within. For several years, from early 2002 until the end of 2007, my main support was Wednesday Group. We met nearly every week of the year at members' houses. We sat and talked, stitched, sometimes did explorations into new techniques, took in galleries, had guests over, and did drawings. There were three stalwart members, Emily Holcomb, Karen Schueler, and myself, though there were also several other people who came and went over the years. The three of us were already professional artists with varying degrees of experience. From the beginning we planned shows that two or all three of us participated in. We encouraged one another; we taught one another; and sometimes we learned together. Twice Karen and I went on two-night retreats to her brother's vacation home in Taos in art retreat. We painted, drew, dyed, and printed. The objective of Wednesday Group was not to learn the stitching, but to learn the art and techniques that support the stitching.

During the course of the several years we were together, we were in some group shows together. The three of us were in the Margaret Parshall Gallery for its debut exhibit at EGA's National Headquarters in Louisville. We each had about twenty pieces in the show. Karen and I showed at Marigold Arts on Canyon Road in Santa Fe. Emily and I showed at the Westside Unitarian Church in Rio Rancho, NM. There were more shows when all three of us also belonged to Silk Painters of New Mexico and we also were in the State Fair several times.

In August of last year, Karen Schueler and her husband moved away from Albuquerque to Delaware. It is now obvious that Karen was the beating heart of Wednesday Group. Emily drifted away, no longer a member of EGA. Kathleen Weston, a later member, and I tried to keep it going, but were unable over the course of several months to hold onto a viable group, so we declared it over early this year.

At the same time that Wednesday Group was meeting weekly, the Emily, Karen and I also belonged to Sandia Mountains Chapter (Rocky Mountain Region of the EGA). In the chapter there is an interest group, first called Stitches Plus and more recently called The Art of Embroidery, that meets about nine times a ear, basically September through May. It is a group of 5 to 7 people who are interested in studying the same sort of art techniques that Wednesday Group supported. In The A of E, however, we actively study the ways and techniques. The more experienced of us do two-hour lessons for the group trading off every month. We studied altered books one year, with the end project of an altered book original to each one of us. The next year we studied bookbinding and where we actually made whole books. Very exciting. A sewn-binding book is itself technically an embroidery. We have made paper for embroidery, we have done potato printing, have studied classic design theory. In short we are striving to learn the art behind the stitches.

The Art of Embroidery starts up another year of study and experimentation this September. We plan on doing some drawing, some deeper design theory study, and some experimenting with layering. Thank goodness for A of E.

And Wednesday Group is going to meet one last time--its last hurrah. Karen is back in town for the Silk Painters International conference. Four or five of us are meeting here at my house to say goodbye to a great group. To say that I miss our meetings is to say a tornado is a zephyr.

Awards

Laeta Acus

A folded book with six pages of text and six small samplers.

Receiving an award is like getting a Hershey's Kiss after eating your favorite dinner. A sweet, delicious ending to a good delicious meal.

At the end of this month I go the the Embroiderers' Guild of America national seminar in Louisville, KY. When I made plans to go to this seminar a year ago this time, I knew I was going to receive an award for completing Mastercraftsman Color. This is a pretty big deal. Mastercraftsman in whatever category takes at least two and a half years to complete. There are a lot of different, twitchy little hoops to jump through along the way. The six parts to this long test have to be completed to the satisfaction of three judges. If the person is still coherent after these hard years she gets an award at national seminar and gets to call herself a master of embroidery. All well and good.

I made arrangements to come to this seminar, as I said, a year ago. But I was not alone in all this. My chapter and my region backed me up. To both of these entities I am eternally grateful. Sandia Mountains Chapter gave me a scholarship of $400 to attend. All they ask back is an hour if my time further down the road and that I go to one meeting at the national seminar, the general business meeting. Rocky Mountain Region gave me $250 in scholarship monies. All it wants in return is a write-up on the classes I am to take. I can't express enough how much I appreciate the generosity of chapter and region. Without those monies I could not have attended at all.

Meanwhile I have been on the 19th National EGA Exhibit committee. This is a tremendous effort to jury in fifty or sixty works of the best embroidered art in the country. It takes over two years to put together the exhibit. Along with the eight committee members, several other people have joined in to help, including three jurors, printers, advisers, etc. The culmination of this is the opening reception at national seminar for the exhibit. After it shows at EGA National Headquarters for three months, it travels around the country to museums and other venues for another two years. As I say, this is a tremendous undertaking.

I play a very small part in all of this as Awards Chairman for the 19th National Exhibit. But I also entered the show and was juried in with one piece of art, Laeta Acus. I was lucky to get in the show at all. Only half to a third of all work entered was accepted. Thirteen ribbons/prizes were given out by the jurors who went on to judge the show. There were two grand prizes, one for excellence in needlework and one for best contemporary needlework; three jurors' awards--the favorites of the each juror; and nine region awards--the best from nine of the thirteen regions within EGA.

Much to my astonishment and surprise, Laeta Acus won the Rocky Mountain Region Award. So at national I will be recognized as one of the prize winners. But the real Hershey's Kiss came yesterday in the mail. Laeta Acus won one of the Jurors' Awards too. I am thrilled, amazed, and very humbled.

Laeta Acus is a small folded book with twelve pages. All the odd-numbered pages are the story of a little girl, Laeta Acus, learning embroidery from her mother. She completes six samplers in six different counted techniques. The small samplers, all about 2.5" X 4", are on the even-numbered pages. By the way, Laeta Acus means happy needle in Latin.