War and Pieced at The American Folk Art Museum

Samuel Atwood, Army tailor

I thought I was just killing time when I wandered into The American Folk Art Museum before a performance of Ayad Aktar's "Junk" at Lincoln Center. But I had stumbled into a fascinating exhibit about quilts made by soldiers, sailors and regimental tailors entitled "War and Pieced."

Most of the quilts in the show come from the collection of quilt historian Annette Gero. These quilts, made during conflicts in Crimea, South Africa, India, Prussia, Austria and France, were intended to be hung on walls as art or used as table coverings rather than bedding. The wall card went on to explain, "The end use was less critical than the act of creation itself, either during a campaign or upon return to the safe harbor of home."

Many of the quilts were made from fabrics used in regular military and dress uniforms. Some were actually taken from the uniforms of fallen soldiers.

Soldier's Quilt , probably India 1850-1880

In the eyes of the curator (and, presumably, Ms. Gero), "The uniforms, associated with the best and the worst of humanity, are thus rehabilitated as an act of redemption for those darker human impulses. The uniforms are metamorphosed into testaments of ordered sanity and beauty, even as the highly organized geometry grants the solder an illusion of control over the predations of war in which he has both witnessed and participated."

The quilt shown here was likely made during the British occupation of India during the mid-19th century. There apparently was not much going on militarily, so the soldiers had to find ways to productively spend their time. In an effort to keep the soldiers occupied, the British government offered industrial exhibitions and professional workshops at which the soldiers could learn skills like needlework.

Detail from Soldier's quilt

The detail in the Indian quilts in particular is a bit mind-boggling. Once again, I'll quote from the wall card, "[Quilts made in India] are often constructed in the inlaid technique, whereby the pieces are joined with little or no seam allowance so they are virtually identical on the front and back...But what really sets quilts made in India apart are the masterful technique, embellishment and attention to detail. ...each seam is expertly covered with rickrack, braid or embroidery. Surface embellishments might include glass beads and spangles or...the tiny discs of fabric ejected as buttonholes were pierced into woolens during the tailoring process."  Due to the complexity of these quilts, it is thought that most are the work of professional regimental or Indian tailors.

Detail from a Crimean War Signature Quilt 

I was touched by the example of a Crimean War Signature Quilt. You can see how much simpler this quilt is than its Indian counterpart. But the thought of a soldier--far from home and risking his life for his country-- taking up a needle and some fabric to make a quilt for his sister just kind of gets to me.

The idea of passing time by making quilts didn't only come from the British government. The popular press during the era romanticized the practice of military quiltmaking with the sentimental image of the drummer boy.Temperance periodicals also played a role, as they promoted the idea of quiltmaking as a masculine activity in hopes of providing soldiers (and other men) with an alternative to the evils of drink.

Intarsia Quilt with Soldiers and Musicians, 

Prussia, 1760-1780

Just when I thought the exhibit couldn't get more impressive, I walked up a few steps to an additional display area. The centerpiece of the room was a table displaying this 55' x 43' Intarsia quilt. (Intarsia is a specific type of inlaying often associated with woodworking.)

I learned that Intarsia quilts often rely on copy prints as sources for their design. (Another quilt depicted the members of the House of Commons from 1860 and was displayed next to a photograph from which the quiltmaker worked. It was a truly amazing replica of the lawmakers.)  It is believed this quilt was a tribute to King Frederick William III of Prussia with its centerpiece crest of the Prussian coat of arms.

Detail from King George III Intarsia Quilt

And speaking of coats of arms, I'll leave you with a detail from a King George III Intarsia quilt that makes me laugh. The image shown here is the centerpiece of the quilt. It depicts Queen Charlotte and King George standing above the royal coat of arms, which includes a guardian lion wearing St. Edward's crown and a Scottish unicorn. First of all, what's the deal with this lion, who more closely resembles the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz than the ferocious king of the jungle? Second, why is the unicorn Scottish? According to Wikipedia's description of the coat of arms, the unicorn is considered a dangerous beast when allowed to run free and is thus typically depicted as chained. The characterization of the unicorn as Scottish, then, calls to mind the country's failed vote for independence. This royal coat of arms continue to be used today.

To learn more about this exhibit and see more (and better) images of these amazing quilts, click here to read a great article from a site called "Hypoallergic."

The Poetry Project's Poetry Marathon

Poetry. Marathon. These are not two words you typically pair. And yet I found myself on a cold New Year's Day in New York at the 44th Annual Poetry Marathon sponsored by the Poetry Project. 

The curated event runs from 2 p.m. until midnight or so, depending upon how close they run to schedule. Wendi and I headed to St. Mark's Church mid-afternoon and settled in. I was eager to see what the marathon was like, having heard about it for years from Wendi. While I'm not a poetry buff by any means, I'm intrigued by the genre. It's a true art to pack so much meaning into so few words. And besides, how bad could it be? If I really hated a poet, she'd be off the stage in two or three minutes, with the promise of someone great just around the corner.

It wasn't long before Nicole Sealey's reading of "The First Person Who Will Live to Be One Hundred and Fifty Years Old Has Already Been Born" grabbed me. It began:

"Scientists say the average human
life gets three months longer every year.
By this math, death will be optional. Like a tie
or dessert or suffering...." 

I loved her language and sought out the young poet during a break to tell her so. (To read the entire poem, click here.)

The Washington Squares reunited for the marathon

with a beatnik look. 

The straight up poets were interspersed with musicians, some of whom played avant garde work, some of whom played beautiful music, and some of whom sang. I was taken aback by how, well, bad the Double Yews were. (Wendi and I later decided it was intentional.) But then I listened to the words they were singing -- "Pity the Nation" by Lawrence Fehrlengetti set to the tune of "My Darling Clementine." It began:

"Pity the nation whose people are sheep
   And whose shepherds mislead them
 Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
            Whose sages are silenced
  And whose bigots haunt the airwaves..."

It hit me where I live. To read the poem, written in 2007, click here.  And to see the Double Yews' performance, click here.

Joseph Keckler

There was plenty of humor as well. I laughed out loud at Joseph Keckler's "The 2012 Mayan Apolcalypse," which he partially spoke and partially sang in a truly incredible operatic voice. To see his performance, click here.

While I enjoyed the seven+ hours of performances we attended, what I was most struck by was the sense of community in the room. Some of the poets were clearly legends in their milieu -- the 90+ year old Jonas Micas, for instance, and John Giorno, who was the subject of Andy Warhol's 1963 movie "Sleep." Some were downtown personalities, like Tammy Faye Starlite, Penny Arcade and Edgar Oliver (whose faux Transylvanian accent threw me for a loop). And some were poets more or less getting their start. Their performances were universally listened to attentively by an appreciative crowd.  Even the woman who dressed up as a peanut, danced around and eventually ate some of the debris off the tarp that had been wisely laid down got a positive response. (Click here to see that performance, which I guess was some sort of take on the Peanuts' dance????)

Steve Earle and Tammy Faye Starlite

I'll leave you with one of my favorite performances of the day. I was a bit baffled at the beginning -- was Tammy Faye Starlite actually exhorting this audience to be more supportive of he-who-shall-not-be-named? But then Starlite, backed by musician/writer Steve Earle, broke into a rousing rendition of The Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil." It was brilliant. Click here to see their performance.

After one taste of the marathon, I can see why Wendi has made it an annual tradition.












To read more about the marathon, click here. 

"Shakespeare in Love" at Asolo Rep -- the Costumes

Costume Designer Susan Mickey

"Shakespeare in Love" is the first of Asolo Rep's repertory productions to hit the stage this season. Like "Evita," its story will be familiar to many audience members. After all, the star-studded movie by the same name won seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture.

The film practically cried out for a theatrical adaptation. Lo and behold -- the play premiered in London in 2014. The show has now made its way to Sarasota with director Rachel Rockwell and costume designer Susan E. Mickey. Both women were part of the show's production at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre last year.

Dorrit and I attended a costume designer brunch at which Mickey spoke. Hearing her insights -- and getting up close and personal with some of the show's costumes -- was a real treat.

Mickey talked about the challenge of working on a show that has a "visual history." "The audience will come into the show with certain expectations," she said. "It might be great in jeans and t-shirts, but that could create a hurdle to getting into the show." And so Mickey went full out Elizabethan with her costumes.

Sometimes, Mickey said, she actually went a bit too far. She called her vision of Queen Elizabeth's gown "extreme Shakespeare."  "Go big or go home," she said with a laugh. The lush costume includes a farthingale cage, a bum roll and lots of bling. It's an outfit truly befitting a queen.

But there was one problem. During dress rehearsal, they realized the heart-shaped ruff collar was so large it blocked out some of the actors. And so our Queen will appear onstage without this part of her wardrobe.

The men in the show will have two different silhouettes. The older, higher class characters will wear traditional pumpkin pants. It's not hard to figure out how the style got its name.

Will and the other men creating the story, however, will wear a more slimmed down look. It's all the better for the sword play in the show.

Mickey walked us through Will's costume, which will be seen in various iterations. The jacket -- made from three types of leather -- features doublets at the shoulders to tie in the sleeves. Little wings hide the ties for a finished look. In some scenes, the leather sleeves will be stripped away, leaving Will wearing a vest with a blousy shirt.

The seams in the costume are both authentic to the period and help the clothing fit and move with the actor. Both the shirt and the jacket lace up and will have to be adjusted throughout the show's run.

The costume is completed with knee-high boots. Mickey shared that the popularity of Renaissance fairs has made sourcing boots and other Elizabethan wardrobe components much easier than it used to be (not to mention more affordable).  Custom made leather boots would have run around $1500/pair. The boots the cast will wear run between $80-$100.

But they weren't good to go out of the box. The backs of the boots were split and grommets sewn in so they could be laced tight. Like the shirt and jacket, some tweaking will be required for each performance. Cushioning in the soles was also added for fit and comfort.

The best question from the audience came when someone asked, "Did men wear underwear in those days?" The answer -- not exactly.  Instead, they wore a piece of fabric external to their trousers called a codpiece. It tied in and provided some support while enhancing the man's package (for lack of a better word). Click here for a funny article about this specialized garment. Mickey noted she dispensed with this bit of authenticity for "Shakespeare in Love."

And then there's Viola. The dress shown here is the one in which she will make her first appearance onstage at the ball. Many of the female characters will wear peplum skirts, but none, Mickey said, are "as sassy" as this one. The pieced and corseted bodice accentuates the look.

The damask, brocade and velvet fabrics used in the women's costumes are downright luxurious. So perhaps Mickey's mention that fabric was often part of a woman's dowry in the day shouldn't have come as a surprise. A nice piece of linen was highly valued.

I suspect the number of layers of clothing women wore at this time pretty much eliminated any real comfort. In one scene, Viola will undress onstage so audience members get a sense of the amount of clothing involved.

All too quickly, our time with Mickey was over.  I'm looking forward to seeing "Shakespeare in Love" even more knowing a bit about what went into bringing it to the stage. The show will run at Asolo Rep through March 28 in repertory with "Morning After Grace" and "Rhinoceros."  Click here for more information and tickets.

Exhibit Hopping: Michelangelo, Munch and Modigliani

Michelangelo sketch of Libyan Sibyl

New York was bracingly cold, but the art scene this January is hot, hot, hot. Over the course of eight days, I hit seven museums – and wasn’t disappointed by any of the shows I took in. So a bit of sharing seemed in order.

Museums are rarely raucous, but the reverential tone of the galleries hosting the Michelangelo drawings exhibit at the Met was unlike any I’d experienced before. And why not? It’s not every day you get the chance to see beautifully preserved drawings created by a true master in the early 1500s.

Instead of hanging the drawings on walls, the Met displayed the works on two-sided stations. Each panel contained a single page of drawings and the accompanying description. This design allowed more people to view the works, but patience was still required.

My favorite part of the show was the room featuring a one-quarter size replica of the Sistine Chapel with related preliminary drawings. The page on which the sketch of this Libyan Sibyl (prophetess) was done reveals Michelangelo’s frugality; he often drew multiple images on a single piece of paper.  Interestingly, the model was not a woman but one of Michelangelo’s male assistants. The torque in her body reveals an amazing musculature common among Michelangelo’s figures. While Renaissance art isn't really my thing, this exhibit was quite special.  

Munch's "Sick Mood

at Sunset: Despair"

From there I headed to the Met Breuer and the Munch exhibit. We all know “The Scream,” a subject Munch created on four separate occasions in different media. His “Sick Mood at Sunset: Despair” is viewed as a precursor to those works. Munch himself considered it part of the series.

The idea for the painting came to him on a walk along a road with two friends. The dramatic sky overtook him and he says he “stood there trembling with fright.” He then felt—rather than heard--“a loud unending scream piercing nature.” The resulting paintings have become some of the best known--and adapted--in popular culture. (Think Macaulay Culkin in "Home Alone.")

Munch's "Self-Portrait

with Bottles"

What I enjoyed most about the exhibit, though, was Munch’s self-portraits (or, as he called them, self-scrutinies).  I was struck by the variety of styles in his work, from naturalism to impressionism to symbolism. His “Self-Portrait with Bottles" isn't the type of artwork I associate with Munch with its bright colors and sense of happiness. But there it was, hanging along with a scream-like self-portrait in which he pictures himself in hell and a realistic portrait of himself as a 23 year old setting out to take on the world. 

And here's a tidbit for you: Munch's work was seized by the Nazis during WWII when they stripped museums of art considered "degenerate." The term lumped together nearly all modern art, which--no surprise--didn't fit the German ideal. 

Modigliani's 

"The Jewess" 

Then there was“Modigliani Unmasked” at the Jewish Museum. The show explored the intentions behind the artist's distinctive faces.

Modigliani moved from Italy to Paris in 1905 when he was in his 20s. The mood in Paris wasn’t friendly to Jews. The aftermath of the Dreyfus affair continued to imbue the city with an anti-Semitism the artist had not experienced previously. Modigliani embraced his “otherness” despite an ability to pass as a gentile due to his appearance, cosmopolitan upbringing, and perfect French. He even went so far as introducing himself by saying, “My name is Modigliani. I am Jewish."

Modigliani's

"Head of a Woman"

In African masks and sculpture, Modigliani found another people distinguishable by their “otherness.” He was also struck by the way the works combined abstraction with individuality. I hadn't seen any of Modigliani's sculptures before, and it was pretty exciting to view them--along with his paintings--next to examples of African masks and sculptures of the type he would have seen. 

Modigliani's distinctive portrayal of his subject's noses is thought to combine his appreciation for African art and his identity as a Jew. One wall card noted plastic surgery began being used by people during Modigliani's lifetime to modify features – like noses – not considered traditionally beautiful. Modigliani would have been aware of this practice and objected to it. 

Modigliani death mask

Modigliani died at the age of 36 from tuberculosis. Quite fittingly, two of his fellow artists made a death mask before his burial. Unfortunately, they weren't skilled sculptors and removed the plaster mold prematurely and broke it. (One description of the mask attributes their haste to being rushed by a nun working in the hospital in which Modigliani had died. His bed was needed for other patients.) Sculptor Jacques Lipchitz was able to save the mask, and he eventually made several plaster replicas and an edition in bronze. To read more about the desk mask, click here.

These exhibits alone would have satisfied me, but more shows enticed me to brave the cold. Stay tuned for my report.