Shari Urquhart: Musn't Touch -- in Milwaukee!

Deb, Libbie, Brehmer and me with "Dresser of Disdain" (1990) 83" x 126"

I always have to steel myself before entering a gallery in New York. Whatever function it is that the people behind the desk serve, they've definitely gone to school to learn how to be as unfriendly and intimidating as possible. "What make you worthy of seeing this exhibit?" is the vibe I almost always get. That experience made the royal treatment we got in Milwaukee during our outing to see "Shari Urquhart: Musn't Touch" all the more special. 

I had reached out to the organizer of the exhibit -- the Portrait Society Gallery of Contemporary Art -- to see if they could open a little early so we could go straight off our train from Chicago. My inquiry turned into Gallery Director Debra Brehmer collecting us at the train station and taking us to The Warehouse (where the bulk of the exhibit was on display), touring the exhibit with us there and then shuttling us to the Portrait Society to see the rest of the show. We would have enjoyed Shari Urquhart's incredible textile art no matter what the circumstances, but Brehmer's hospitality made the outing one I'll always remember.

"Shikari" (1990) 84" x 117"

The Warehouse's massive walls made it the perfect location to display Urquhart's work. While images of her work had caught my attention online, I couldn't truly appreciate them until confronted with their size.  Many of the rug-hooked textiles are more than eight feet wide. And then there's the level of detail. These are works in which you'd find something new each time you looked. I wasn't surprised to learn that it took Urquhart a year to create some of the largest works. After all, she had a day job. While art was her passion, it didn't pay the rent. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Urquhart grew up in Racine, Wisconsin (hence the exhibit in Milwaukee). After graduating from UW-Madison, she headed to New York like many aspiring young artists. Urquhart already a history with fiber art, having make rug-hooked pillows in graduate school to earn money for art supplies. But it was when she worked as an assistant to textile artist Alan Shields that her love of fiber really told hold. Eschewing both the division between art and craft and gender roles, Shields created textile paintings and sculptures, often with the use of a sewing machine. (He also made his own rather distinct clothing and apparently cut a swath even in 1970s New York.) You can see the same philosophy in Urquhart's work. 

"Indecorous Destruction with Tree and Bunny"
(1985-86) 95" x 138"

Urquhart's work had three distinct phases. Her earliest textiles feature a couple that doesn't seem to be on quite the same page. In "Shikari" (above), the man is clearly trying to capture the woman, who's making an effort to put him off. They are both off-balance, as is their relationship. Yet there's also a distinct sense of playfulness and affection. Relationships are complicated. 

The woman's diaphanous pink dress -- frequently seen in Urquhart's work -- is a symbol of her femininity. But it's also a reminder of how hard ballerinas work to claim their space. A profession in dance -- or in any arts-related field -- requires a single-minded dedication and sacrifice. It's not hard to see that this woman is a stand-in for Urquhart herself.   

"Indecorous Destruction" detail

In "Indecorous Destruction with Tree and Bunny," Urquhart once again captures a couple at odds. He is caught up in a project (damn Christmas trees!) and is disinterested in her choice of wardrobe. Note the classical sculpture that Urquhart has slyly added to the tableau, a nod to the perceived dichotomy between art and craft. I am amazed at the depth she creates in these works, especially the shadows. It wasn't a simple process. Urquhart used more than 100 different colors and types of yarn in "Indecorous Destruction..." Just look at the number of colors in that chair! In the detail picture, you can see how Urquhart used different types of yarn -- some metallic -- to create different textures and depth. It's truly mindboggling. You can also see why Brehmer named the exhibit "Musn't Touch." It's hard to resist reaching out to run your hands across the fibers. Coincidentally (not), one of the works in the exhibit is actually named "Musn't Touch."  

"The Renunciation" (1994) 100" x 92"

Urquhart's next phase eliminated the man, focusing on the female figure who becomes almost part of a still life. Urquhart was in her 50s then, and her work had not found its audience. During this period, Urquhart's art often references classical paintings. Sometimes the entire work was a reinterpretation. Other times, it's replicated as part of a larger narrative. 

In "The Renunciation," Urquhart tells her viewers that she's given up her childish dreams. Her ballet slippers are falling out of her grasp. Her hobby horse has taken a tumble, and the world of the princess in a castle has been tucked away. The rather unattractive painting above her is a faithful recreation of Arnold Bocklin's "Meerestille" or Calm Sea from 1886-87. Suffice it to say that Urquhart knew her art history. In this painting, Nereid has separated herself from her partner Triton, who can be seen submerged in the water near death. In "The Renunciation," Triton seems to represent the art world that has so disappointed Urquhart. Time to move on. 

"Woman I, Stage III" (1995) 100 "x 86"

"Woman I, Stage III" might have been my favorite work in the show. Our ballerina has transitioned from her pink tutu to black. Once again, a creepy painting provides some decoration. (This time it's Odilon Redon's "The Smiling Spider" from 1887. Notably, both Bocklin and Redon were symbolists.)  What I truly love about this work is our woman's use of a fly swatter to rid herself of all the little men flitting around her. They are engaged in manly activities like tossing around a football and boxing. Their boyish endeavors -- perhaps aimed at capturing her interest -- are only a distraction from the serious work of creating art. 

Urquhart embarked on the final phase of her career after she had left New York and returned to her hometown in Wisconsin. She took up gardening, and her joy in their blooms is displayed in her later works. These textiles are smaller than those created when she was in New York. In part, that was due to the practicality of more limited studio space. But her choice of subject also no longer demanded the scale in which she had previously worked. While impressive, they didn't excite me in comparison to her earlier work. They also sort of saddened me because they seemed an acknowledgment Urquhart truly had given up her dreams to make it in the art world. It struck me as ironic that these were the works most likely to have a little red dot indicating they'd been sold. 

All in all, our outing to Milwaukee was a terrific supplement to our art-driven trip to Chicago. Chances are I would never have otherwise had the chance to see the unique and exciting art of Shari Urquhart in person. Sadly, chances are you'll never get the opportunity. But you can see more of Urquhart's work on her website by clicking here. There you'll find more of her textiles, including her floral pieces, and some prefatory watercolors. Sadly, the website does not contain the photographs she took before starting on a piece. But the exhibit did!  So I'll leave you with this image that was a starting point for "Woman I, Stage III." I'm betting she and her models had a lot of fun. 

So much art, so little time...