Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
I have spent the last ten days brooding about Evangeline and what she is doing to me. First off I should mention that I have read and reread Longfellow's poem about Evangeline and her search for her true love. The poem is a slow read, partly due to the way it was written and partly because Longfellow is such a great wordsmith. There are these beautiful descriptive panoramas of the pastoral. For example:
Monday, December 20, 2010
First I must address the myth of Evangeline.
Evangeline was a character in an epic poem by H.W.Longfellow written in 1847. In the poem, Evangeline Bellefontaine and her true love, Gabriel Lajeunesse, were separated during The Great Upheaval when the British expelled the Acadians out of Acadie. The story is about Evangeline's search across America looking for Gabriel, and eventually reuniting at his deathbed in a Sisters of Mercy hospital where Evangeline was a nurse..... More to continue
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
About 1/3 of the way on interstate 10 between Baton Rouge, Louisiana and Houston, Texas is a town called Evangeline. My mother's name is Eva and my husband's paternal grandmother's name was Angelina. The name Evangeline is very southern. It is beautiful and Cajun and laden with history, mythology and deep personal meaning and it is also the name of this months dress.
Evangeline, although will full and still shredding at the seams and edges, is starting to reveal a sophisticated side by holding herself together at all the right places. These days she is becoming a wearable metaphor for the way I feel. Perhaps I should be honest here and admit to several things about myself.
1. I am Southern
2. I think of myself as not being from here.
3. I am completely torn about returning here whether to live or to visit. This alone causes me much anxiety and stress.
To add complication to this list, I also come from a rather complicated family. I realize that this segues into the perfect opportunity to describe my family, but I regret to admit that I will have to save the details for another time. Suffice to say, part of my family is well known by Houston standards, and the other half, well, they were immigrants. Oh and did I mention that after 35 years, my parents divorced? So the reality when I am down here has become less fun happy crazy and more obligatory with a lot of crazy on the side. As I try to keep it all together, I realize how intense and hyper crazy togetherness makes me, So I am allowing, inviting and honoring the fray. Everything is bound to unravel ( another pun for you language folks), but it's how we handle it that counts. When I think about my work as a conservation technician handling 100 year old painted theater backdrops, I remember our textile conservator, Michelle Pagan saying " when moving something bio-deteriorated and fragile you always want to hold it at the seams." As the big picture unravels and falls apart, if the seams are intact you can make it go and do what ever you need it to.
Tonight, Evangeline is teaching me that I have to reinforce the seams.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Tonight I have an enormous amount of work to do to make this dress a little more modest.
Monday, December 6, 2010
On the upside, I am happy to know that I stuck it out a month wearing the same dress. I thought it would be hard, but I think as long as I continue to take this project one day at a time and moment to moment I will get through it.
I took the final pictures of us...Us, yes, us, two personalities. I leave in this dress part of my personality. What part? I am not sure...it feels so disconnected and yet connected, pulled together by thread. I wonder if I will feel this way at the end of every dress cycle? Just as it was getting good and comfortable it is time to switch.
Photography has been on my mind. I received my B.A. From The University of Chicago in visual arts withal concentration in photography. As a result you would think i would have nailed down my documentation strategy by now. However, I have not and I am beginning to think that this might be ok. As I have reorganized my images and really spent time looking at myself and the dress and the juxtaposition of the dress against my environments, I have been going back to look at photographic portraits. Specifically, I have been looking at Cindy Sherman, Anna Mendiata, Francesca Woodman, Dawaud Bey, Mark Seliger, and Roni Horn. I have really gone back to look at the composition, lighting, and "snapshot" quality of some of these photographer's work. I am drawn to the immediacy of the point and shoot digital camera. Impulse impulse impulse. It is easy,and instantly gratifying. I know that each of these dresses will eventually be professionally photographed for my portfolio, but i feel the images I have been posting are adequate for documentation, and blog documentation. I am thinking of the format of documenting objects in a persons life via social media like Facebook or Twitter or Blog spots etc. They are usually snapshots, snippets into a life, a point of view of how the person who hosts the site sees themselves, or really how they want people to see them. I guess it is all about self promotion and self perception. So I am utilizing these methods form my own documentation. Does that mean certain things get censored or edited? Maybe, and maybe more so unconsciously.
Following this post will be a whole bunch of images. Some of them are starting to mimic the styles of other documentary style images. I find it interesting as in hope the readers of this blog will too.
So for now, I will say goodnight and thank Miss November for a fantastic and wild first month. I wasn't expecting to feel the difficulty of moving on to the next dress, but it's here, like a lump in my throat. Nancy Reddin Keinholz once told me that when a work of art is finished, it must be able to live in the world without me. It kind of reminds me of child rearing; you have to let out the apron strings further and further until it's time to cut them loose. Miss
November, I may not be ready, but you are.
I used a lot of red and pink thread. I created these islands of fabric that kind of became somewhat integrated with red and pink stitches. There are little remnants of fabric from people I know, specifically a white patch from a friends wedding dress and a letter 'T' from a recent visit with friends in Asheville, NC. There are loops of a gold trim that came out of a moment of frustration and anger. There is beige lace that I thought would make the dress look weird, but actually pulled it together more. Under the first layer is what is left of "Penumbra", my first work of trapunto that is the reason I became an artist who works with fabric. The sweater attached to the top came from my mother. The green embroidered humming bird was made to honor the memory of Deborah Veselka, my middle school biology teacher, bird watcher and friend. On the back is the most expensive vintage yellow lace I have ever owned. I couldn't bear for it to go into the scrap bin so it made it's way into this project. There is a scale like wool layer over the left side of the skirt of the dress that in added on an especially cold and wet Vermont winter day.
The front of Miss November is heavy. Her top has become tight from all the stitching and after a wash, she takes an extra jiggle or so to pull her over my head. This last week she has been so tight around my chest that she has been uncomfortable. With all the layers, Miss November's skirts are full. They sway when I move and make me feel really voluptuous in an amazing girly yet sexy kind of way. Sexy may not be the right word, womanly is a better choice.
Even though I have changed certain accessories in my own personal wardrobe, like coats, jackets, tights, shoes, jewelry and glasses, I still feel like the dress is the focus. The accessories have become second tier to the enormity of attention Miss November demands.
Attention, oh my!
The attention she garners is amazing. People look, but don't always ask. When they do, I now have a card that says "The dress I am wearing is a work of art, to find out more visit: dressthatmakesthewoman.blogspot.com". Miss November is her own marketing tool. Perhaps this is why I am apprehensive about tomorrow. The next dress is so plain, dull, lifeless. It will take a month to make her breathe. I think Miss November has set a bar, and now I am asking myself how can I out do myself?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
This morning I stitched her name on the outside of her collar. When I got the the final stitches, I got kind of sad. I almost felt like I was going to cry. She has become apart of me in such a way that knowing I am not going to wear her again makes me feel like I am parting ways with a part of myself.
I am afraid of feeling naked tomorrow in the new dress. She is silver, from j.crew and is special because she was the first "nice dress" I bought after having given birth to my son. The significance comes in the form of having my own form back, something most postpartum moms wonder about.
I am a little disappointed to be spending my last day in Miss November in the car driving from Birmingham to Baton Rouge, but I guess such is life. I have oh so much more to write about for today and will continue to add to this post as the day unfolds and the final pictures are taken, but for now I must keep my eyes on the road.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
I have been feeling a little blocked when it comes to what to add to her. I think she has become a bit precious, maybe because she is my first. I definitely have been failing in the department of pushing the stitch work on her surface this last week. I can't afford to be too conservative with this project, the whole point of it is to push me further and make the boundaries of my wearable art expand. On the other hand it does reflect my daily life; some times it is scary to push myself out of my comfort zone. Tonight, I must be brave.