In the workroom and the museum

"Do the most important thing at your best time" is good advice that I seem to have lost sight of. My best time is early morning, and so often that time is used for reading in the bath or piddling about with emails or instagram (the latter - shock horror - while still in bed!).

As it was still the weekend and as I was still "recuperating" from all that we did and absorbed and considered at the summer school, I had a low-key Saturday with a view to pulling my socks up on Sunday. So this morning, aiming to "do the most important thing" first, before being distracted, I got out of the bath (hmm, shouldn't have been reading for so long maybe) and made coffee (ok, that was quick) and took it into the studio "right away" - there's a little deadline to meet, and I wanted to be done with it by noon.

 And the work from the summer school was trying to relax after being rolled up for some hours - I'd also planned to take action on a few of those pieces -

What happened? Next thing I knew, I was clearing out one of the compartments under the workbench. It suddenly seemed vital to have all the woodblock paraphernalia together in a handy place.

 Ah yes, I pulled out a shoebox for some reason and started sorting its contents with a view to decluttering. But some were flyers that I'd produced for exhibitions and, while involved in the London region of the Quilters' Guild, for the regional days. Couldn't just toss those without making a record, could I? They go back to pre-blogging days....

 They ended up with a formulaic format, but the two at the top were special.

On the right, a textiles exhibition at Leighton House Gallery in 1999 or was it 2000? None of the participants had email addresses or websites listed on the back, just phone numbers (in case anyone wanted to see more work at their studio...)

The one on the left was for the exhibition Tony and I had in 2010, thanks to a local gallery having a free slot just after I'd done the art foundation course at City Lit. Somehow you think those days will go on forever....

Here's a couple of the works from the Leighton House show, still hanging around and gathering dust ....

a very tired "mobile"

Silk printed with chinese nonsense characters

 ... and starting to fade in the light ...

 Ah well, there's a new oasis of tranquility in the workroom/storeroom - no work done yet, but it was time to go to the farmers market

and unexpectedly I popped into the only local clothing shop (apart from the charity shops) and found this (sleeveless) dress on sale, made in Australia no less -

I could do the cutting and pasting and whatever in the evening, no?, so it was off to Tate Modern to see the Natalia Goncharova exhibition, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Ah those moody greys

From her sketchbook 1915-17

Didn't take many photos at all, but each page of the little booklet about the exhibition has a quick sketch of something in that room. Looking particularly hard at one item.

These aide-memoires really do that - a drawing brings you back to what and where and when you were. And I quickly found myself making nice dark decisive marks with the pencil, so pleased to find that happening.

More little quilts

These went to the gallery for the browser rack; some were made earlier, and some are brand new. The plastic sleeves keep them pristine, but rather get in the way of photography. Several have gone to new homes.

At the gallery this week

It's very exciting to see the show listed in the Guardian's "Guide" -on the same page with Fra Angelico and Leonardo, no less, and very near Henry Moore -
but overall, just one in the many many shows listed. (How good it is to live in London and have all this at hand!)

Good, too, to see red dots on the wall (you may have to look closely...) -

More small pieces, mounted ready to frame and in their acetate sleeves, have gone into the browser, to swell the numbers of small pieces on offer - in case anyone is looking for something for their wall or for a gift -
They don't look too great in combination, do they? Presentation certainly makes a difference -- when seen in sequence, as people flip through the browsing rack, the effect is, I hope, of a pleasant variety rather than of a hodge-podge.

Of course the fun is chatting to visitors and friends dropping by. Jo brought me these delightful cactus salt-and-pepper pots -
which are now installed at home with similar objects in a mini theme park -

Before, during, and after

Now that I'm back home, on my own computer and able to blog, here's a summary of the days of setting up the exhibition, and the first days of the show.

If you take the no.6 bus and walk two blocks down Harlesden Road, this is your first view of the gallery - Aren't those golden balls glorious against the blueblue sky? We were lucky to have sunshine at last, but I can't omit a mention of what felt like a lot of heat and humidity. Keeping both doors open made for a nice breeze through the gallery, which set the little "sky boats" swaying. Here they are, still being put up -
The "travel blankets" are in place, and on the plinth is The Moth's Journey
This wall near the back door combines Tony's moody photos of White Sands, New Mexico, and my "The Weather along the Way" pieces (12"/30cm square, sewn onto 10"/25cm square deep canvases) -
A flotilla along the (entire) window ledge has joined the sky boats -
In the cabinets, arranged to protect the original Journey piece, are some TravelWriting, some porcelain "ladders", the Cargo Boats, and the spooky steps -
The doors of the cases have been removed to allow taking out the pieces and having people hold and handle them -
I spent nearly 3 hours on Friday afternoon sewing a selection of A4-sized journal quilts to 30x40cm watercolour paper (fits a standard frame), adding title and signature, and then putting them into acetate sleeves. They are priced at £40 - yes yes, tooooo little! - and several went to new homes almost immediately -
5.30 - getting ready for the private view - to see the sailing photos on the back wall, go to Tony's website
Taking a moment to pose (and breathe) -
5.45 - Thomas, who has spent all day on a ladder painting upstairs windows, puts up more Sky Boats in the neglected corner -
On the desk area, my 7"x10" "journalling" pieces, which incorporate fabric printed with TravelWriting lines. These were so much fun to make. The basket holds copies of the TravelWriting, made into two sizes of book, available to purchase and take home - and lots of my home-made "business cards". Above the sink area you might recognise the Fissures quilt that I left on a train on the way to Festival of Quilts, all those years ago (and that a kind stranger restored to me) - it's stitching shows migrations, if that's how you want to see it.

8.30 - the evening sun slants in through the back door; the party is in full swing -
People are drinking and chatting, mixing and mingling -
Gone 9pm - time to go homeAfter the excitement of the opening party, we spent Saturday at the gallery, offering visitors home-made cake. The glasses are ready for another party that evening -
...at which I had a great time talking to many of the artists who live in the streets around the gallery - but even that came to an end -
The show runs till 26 June, with the "meet the artists and have some cake" event every Saturday - so if you can make the trek to London NW10, please drop by. Details are on the Artisan website.

Some thoughts about the process of having an exhibition:
1. A lot of small, fiddly, trivial-but-important things are involved. You need a checklist....
2. You need adequate time to prepare the work.
3. Don't just "hope for the best" - try it out at home. (Hanging those Sky Boats was a nightmare!)
4. Think carefully about prices. Have a price for everything!
5. Have a list of work that people can take away with them. If it has photos, all the better.
6. Have small pieces that people can buy and take home immediately.
7. Start setting up as soon as possible - and finish setting up as soon as possible.
8. Publicity should be done weeks & weeks ahead, and continue. It will take a lot of time to do adequate publicity; fortunately Tony had time to do it while I continued making work.
9. Enjoy the opening!

I found talking about my work much easier than I feared - and even enjoyed it. Largely, it was a matter of telling the same stories to different groups of people - about what inspired the work, how it was made, and sometimes what it "meant" (usually I answered that question with "what do you see and think of when you look at it" and we went from there). I was thrilled that they were really interested in this - especially when I handed them one of the spooky steps or a bit of TravelWriting to hold and turn over and look at closely.

Next, now that I'm back home and the day stretches ahead -- studio cleanup, visits to degree shows and exhibitions that end soon - and making some more of those fun pieces that have the printed TravelWriting and bright sparks of colour.

Last-minute-itis

The long-awaited and worked towards Private View starts at 6pm; it's 16.42 as I write. The show is set up, my price list is printing. It takes 20 mins to get to the gallery, and about 10 mins to put my glad rags (and fancy shoes) on. I've been up since 5 doing all those last-minute things they warn you about - yup, the bits you'd conveniently forgotten needed doing....

No time to download photos, but it was looking good when I put up the last of the Sky Boats in the window at about 12.30. (Boy did each to them take an age ... and how fiddly ... not such a good idea!) All afternoon I've been sewing A4-size quilties to 30x40 watercolour paper, and putting them in sleeves...

It's a lovely, sunny evening - all systems go!

Setting up - first day

After putting the poster in the window, Tony put together the "table" for the Journey installation. I'd forgotten how long the legs were -Then he started hanging pictures while I got to work on reconstituting the installation. At City Lit the floor was dark, and that darkness is part of the metaphor, so here I added some cloth. The puddle of darkness on the floor will hopefully also remind people not to get too close (it's a bit fragile; I have visions of one careless knock, at the private view perhaps, and the whole thing disintegrates...)
During the hasty takedown, all the sticks got bundled together. Sorting them by length took a couple of hours.
My impromptu homage to Richard Long and his stone circles -
We unloaded the car at about 11am, and worked through till 7. It's starting to take shape -

Odds 'n' ends of preparation

When you go to see an exhibition you almost expect that there will be postcards or some small souvenir you can take home with you. To this end I've been making a few little books, with the kind help of the long-suffering Tony, who happens to have a wonderful printer. This 8-page book is printed on "metallic" paper, two books per sheet, each to be folded and put into a slipcase -Then we tried to print a 16-page book that I'd written on layout paper. I really liked the flimsy paper (60gsm?) and hoped to print it out on layout paper too. The thinnest paper Tony happened to have was quite thick and the print looked quite dull - and it turned out to be quite difficult to fold -
This involved a trip to the art store to get some A3 layout paper, and putting that paper through the printer resulted in a lot of torn sheets - well, two - no point in keeping on trying. Afterwards, printing on anything resulted in blobs of ink. Oops ... sorry, Tony ...
After a bit of a rest and a chance to clean its heads, the printer decided to cooperate. Any further books-for-sale will be produced via the photocopier.
Tony is totally prepared, all his photos beautifully framed and labelled, and the "portfolio pieces" ready to walk out the door in their tidy sleeves. The size A0 posters will go in the large windows of the gallery - and so will dozens (I hope) of the little boats, which have yet to be made and threaded with invisible thread for hanging -
These boats were printed on tracing paper on my laser printer (black and white). A careless swipe of the hand, and the toner comes off - so they are folded with the printed side safely, and cleanly, inside.