This photo of American artist Kiki Smith’s stunning tapestries displayed in a sumptuous room in Paris’s La Monnaie has garnered more “likes” on my Instagram feedthan anything else I’ve ever posted, by far. and it continues to earn those little hearts, months after I uploaded it.
And since we’re”sheltering at home” (those of us lucky/privileged enough to have shelter, that is), I thought we might like to do some virtual travelling. Somehow, since I got home just before Christmas, I haven’t found much time to share photos from my brief visit to Paris and Rome. In fact, I have many photos and journal entries I’ve been meaning to share from visits all the way back to last spring. So fasten your seat belts, next stop Charles de Gaulle Airport. . .
We’ll begin slowly, with a stroll past those tapestries. And my plan is to come back tomorrow and take you through more of the same exhibition. . . This is just to whet your appetite .. .
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| Underground. 2012 |
In retrospect, I wish I’d taken many more photos of these tapestries, but then I took so many throughout the exhibition otherwise, and I suppose I wanted also just to sit with them, absorb them, not keep lifting the lens to my eye. . . .
If you’d like to see more (and more professional!) photos, this linkwill bring you to the first exhibition of Smith’s tapestries (eleven of them, ten feet tall) Woven Tales at the Gerald Peters Contemporary Art Gallery in Santa Fe . .
At that site, you will also find a nine-minute video of the artist speaking about her inspiration and process for these tapestries (which were woven for her by Magnolia Editions in Oakland, California).
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| Cathedral, 2013 |
There’s also an article about the tapestrieshere, although it does rely heavily on material found in the Peters coverage.
If you’re interested in what you see here, I encourage you to take fifteen minutes or so to read the essay by Nick Stone that you can find on the Peters site.
In fact, as I’ve been thinking about Time and Slowing Down in posts over the last month or two, it occurs to me as I put this post together to meditate a bit on the time that I spent in La Monnaie viewing these works last December and the time that’s lapsed since then and then, again, the time that I’ve spent today researching online. Also the reality of blogging which means that often, once a few weeks have passed since some experience or event or idea I’d intended to share with you, I come to feel that it’s “too late” somehow to do that.
We live in such abundance that we tend to feel a responsibility to keep up with the new; the “backlist” (as older books are called in the publishing industry) can tend to be left behind. We’re excited about a new pair of shoes until the next season’s offerings hit our screens, finish one trip and begin planning for the next (to be honest, I do that with meals as well 😉
But I’ve been thinking lately of a passage written by Diana Athill in one of her later books, a passage written in her 90s as she recalled with joy the places she’d travelled to when younger. She spoke of those earlier travels as a resource she could drawn upon in her nonagenarian immobility, the clarity of remembered details yielding enormous pleasure, lifting her from the limited environment of the supported living home.
I’m not there yet, but here we are, confined to our homes (and aren’t we lucky, most of the community that meets here, that we have safe and comfortable homes to be confined to, out of range of the virus’s threat). So don’t be surprised if, over the next while, you find me turning to past travels, sharing exhibitions I’ve enjoyed, finally doing the bit of research about the various artists and their work, as I’d promised myself and then never “found time” for. . .
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| Sky, 2011 |
Next “art post” will take you through more of that Kiki Smith exhibition to look at her sculptures. Meanwhile, if you’d like you can take a virtual, 3D visitto an exhibition of Kiki Smith’s work in Oxford last fall. . .
And if you have time, I’d love to know what experiences or events or ideas you’ve always meant to return to, to think more about, or simply to spend more time remembering, mindfully. Which exhibitions or single works or art books . . . or novels or poems or concerts, for that matter . . . that continue to resonate for you? Do you find yourself drawing from that reservoir during these odd days? And finally, how are these odd days going for you? Are you okay? I’ve read from some of you that this social space is useful for a community connection when we’re in danger of feeling isolated. I can’t promise to answer each comment fully, but I do read them all, and I’m happy to see you respond to each other. So go to. . . The mic is yours. . .
Lovely to think about being able to return to old books or photos and journals of past travels without the world encroaching too much upon our solitude. I keep thinking I will take my morning tea into the sunroom and resume my journal writing habit. Each morning I think I’ll do it. And then the constant news and the pundits endless digesting and analysis of the news kind of sucks me in. And I don’t. We’re both finding it hard to keep up to date and yet not drown in distressing and depressing information. Other than that we’re good. Lucky, in fact.
P.S. I just typed a whole woe is me paragraph and deleted it. Too much information. We’re good. 😊
Very helpful post in these times Frances . Still in our almost self isolation in Scotland but thinking of when we get home . You’ve prompted me to get my old travel diaries out together with the pics we took & have our own little trip round the world . I might wince at the changes in my appearance but this is no time to have such shallow thoughts . Big Diane Athill fan here – wonder what her wise words would have been about the world’s present predicament . Those tapestries are scrumptious.
Wendy in York
That underground tapestry! Gripping and resonates for me with MacFarlane’s Underland. An engaging read for now…
Frances, these little tours through galleries which shares with us, while letting you relive enriching times,selecting different photos of many you probably have taken, is a delightful, inventive use of the spare moments afforded us all now. Happy to read any and all.
Most especially with this one you have just composed, I will forward to a friend's slightly infirm mother who suddenly can not drive to the store even due to new arthritis meds.. She was due to have a pace maker installed next month here in the UK which now won't happen.
Allthough her eyesight is preventing full days in her studio as a fabric artist, she is still able to do bits. She makes, screens, tapestry, puppets of silk pieces of fabric (most recently some real stunners of George and the Dragon legend). I have been finding beautiful magazine pages with tapestry and murals that are printed large enough to see and sending them. What you have provided here will make her day.
I will definitely send this post,and the one you refer to within it to her as I think her son has done something to enlarge what she sees on her desktop computer so she can fully enjoy the imagines and text you have gathered here.
Thank you. That will be winging its way to the tiny village of Melbourn, Herts (or Cambs…depends on whom one asks), which is just a few minutes outside Cambridge.
A.in London
I love the tapestries but I love the floor in that gallery too… Please do continue to share your traveller's tales with us as I am sure we would all enjoy being transported to other times and places.
I too am finding all the news of the impending virus worrying, distracting, and downright terrifying. I have decided to give Facebook a wide berth because of all the 'expert' views that people are reposting on there and to stick to just one or two information sources, the BBC and my regular newspaper. Makes me feel I am keeping the constant barrage of fretfulness at bay. Like many of us here, I have no fear of the virus for myself but instead I worry about its impact on the lives of my adult children and the health of my elderly, less than well, parents. So I shall focus on rediscovering the random boxes of leftovers in the bottom of the freezer, and turning my lifetime's supply of fabric into quilts, and returning to reading fiction. I also have half an inclination to learn some Spanish if I'm cooped up at home but don't hold your breath on that.
Your post had me looking back at some close up photos of tapestries, kimonos, and wall hangings I took in January at the V&A in London. Whenever I make it to the V&A (aka – every trip), I visit the textile exhibits in one or more of the areas. For example, the South Asia collection has a gloriously huge bed cover with the tiniest of stitching and most delicate colouring. Makes your heart sing to feast your eyes on all that skill and artistry surviving the centuries.
Like most, we are staying home with the occasional beach walk (holding breath when Social distance is less than ideal). Since we are home together, we take our walks independently so we have some separation time.
Yesterday was spent looking at old photos and reminiscing, a lovely pass time.
Your post is much appreciated.
Here is a wonderful offer you may not have heard:
Met launches “Nightly Met Opera Streams,” a free series of encore Live in HD presentations streamed on the company website during the coronavirus closure
Link
metopera.org/about/press-releases/met-to-launch-nightly-met-opera-streams-a-free-series-of-encore-live-in-hd-presentations-streamed-on-the-company-website-during-the-coronavirus-closure/
Suz from Vancouver
What a wonderful thoughtful post and those tapestries are just stunning. I have been thinking of some wonderful trips we’ve had to Italy over the years, especially knowing how much the people there are suffering at the moment. We are indeed fortunate if we have safe homes where we can seek refuge. Stay safe x
Oh these tapestries are stunning! And I will have to follow up and read more. And yet, I seem perfectly content at the moment even in this time of social distancing. Do I miss my concerts and activities, yes in a way. Am I sad about the trips I cannot make, that have been canceled? perhaps. But memory is good too, and I think it is good to slow down and take stock although I also think it is slightly harder living alone, but I talk to people daily. And yet, I am realizing that I perhaps needed reminding that I do not have to go more and do more. I can happily spend a day knitting, reading, puttering about house, working in the garden. What doesn’t get done simply doesn’t get done. The world still turns. Surely if I needed to do this to survive it would be harder, and yet perhaps more fulfilling. And now my hour of rest between hours of digging holes, discovering rocks that were not supposed to be there, hauling rocks away, and hopefully eventually planting a few shrubs is gone, and I must wander back out into the sun and dirt.
Oh, those tapestries are beautiful. I can imagine my hand reaching out wanting to touch the fabric but slapping my hand back. Just last night as I was trying to fall asleep I thought that I should finish transferring my notes from my Canadian Maritimes trip last fall and possibly create one of those on-line books of photos and text. Unfinished business. We have a deposit on a trip to Ireland in the late fall…who knows? Thankful that I retired last June. Visited my school colleagues before the closings and marveled at how they were planning/coping. Caught myself in the mirror on Tuesday & I thought I looked awful. Decided to dress up a little (school clothes) and do hair and light make up. Feel a little better. Walked in the cold air (we still have snow on the ground) but it stirred up my mild asthma. I'll keep doing it though as I will sleep better. Daughter goes in every other day to work with a team of four spread out across the office. Her team is called "Flagrant Disregard" which apparently, if I understood her correctly, was a grade students might have received in the early days of the college (est. mid-1700s.) We just spoke-2 confirmed cases from the student body. Thank goodness they sent kids home 2 weeks ago but daughter is in student support so she is anxious. Listen occasionally to the White House Press Conferences just to witness the stupidity. I think of past presidents (even if I did not share their politics) who were able to bring calm, comfort, and assurance in trying times. It is no wonder some kids are still going to the beach to play during their spring break. They've grown up in a world of school shootings, broken promises (go to college, you'll get the dream job!), and now 3+ years of outright lies. My kids tell me their thoughts are "What have I got to lose?" Thanks for this forum…although my husband & I have been talking more than ever, these are thoughts I don't necessarily share with him. Carol in VT
Sue: I think it will take us some time to find a balance in this new world. . . I'm surprised at how little time I have, somehow, for tasks and activities you'd think I could get done right now. Something about being unsettled and scattered . . . To a certain extent, the formulaic claims time, just because it's comforting. My French studies and the Italian, fitness whether a podcasts-in-the-earbuds walk or something online, and baking. . . . Hope that writing that paragraph got rid of some of the care. . . .
Wendy: What a good spot you're in now for sheltering in place. . . and you'll be in another when you get back to your garden. Good to wonder what DA might have said — nothing banal, I'm sure!
Laura J: That's a good pairing (I say, although I'm still waiting to read Underland. . . .
A: So glad you enjoyed, and I hope your friend does as well. . . Kiki Smith speaks of the Apocalypse Tapestry (in that video) and now I'd love to see that. Have you?
This is the perfect post for this time. With nowhere to go, I give myself so much more permission to wander about online. And this isn't chaff, it's wonderful. I love tapestries of all sorts.
OMG – that bottom tapestry is STUNNING! I say, bring out the art – all the photos, the gorgeous pics of Europe (when walking and sitting at cafes etc.) This is the time to remind ourselves of wonderful experiences. We've had them in the past, we'll have them again. Now's the time when knowing a few 95 year olds would come in handy, I suspect. It would be nice to see someone tilt her head with vague amusement (and compassion that's borne of experience) and say: when I was young, the world went nuts for a number of years in the 30s and 40s – and look, we all found a new normal. In truth, I think it's probably time for a new normal. The old one has been precarious for as long as I can remember.
PS: Pls. note I'm not aiming to compare the impact of a world war and this virus, except inasmuch as it's changed the cultural and psychoemotional landscape rapidly, and that it's requiring a significant change re: human freedom (as we generally understand it and take it for granted).
Excellent idea Frances. I’ve been to many art exhibitions over 40 years and have many photos to look back on, and from earlier times when taking photos was uncommon or even prohibited, I have exhibition catalogues that I can revisit now that we’re all sheltering in place, if as you say, we’re fortunate enough to have shelter. The tapestries you’ve shared are richly detailed and visually arresting. I love your exhibition posts because I get to peek at works I may never experience first hand. And I appreciate your discerning eye. I will visit the other resources you’ve thoughtfully referenced to learn more about the works and the artist’s process. I’ve happily fallen down many rabbit holes doing this after your previous exhibition posts. I’m doing well and it’s pleasing to see that you and others in this community are also well. I’m missing the stimulation and connections I had in my usual routine but am applying myself to connecting in different ways. I’m struggling to differentiate between essential and non-essential outings for me and my family. Sometimes this is obvious, sometimes not. Hopefully, like most things, it’ll get easier with practice.
That Underground tapestry knocked the breath out of me. An image of the underground world in Joy Kogawa's Obasan flashed through my mind. And Alice in Wonderland. And science illustrations. And children's drawings. And Watership Down. And medieval tapestries. Incredible! Thank you for introducing me to her work.