Beyond the Presidential Suite

Imagine how it must feel, after living a life of luxury and having everything the heart desires for a while, to return to normal life.

Welcome to the Holiday Inn, Covington, Kentucky (that’s the establishment tucked behind the BP station) 

We hot footed it out of Columbus this morning, before the Pride parade got going and jammed the city solid.  Out onto the open road through the empty Ohio countryside, we passed by the barn with the “chew tobacco” advertisement and headed for Cincinnati.

We stopped in Springfield, to visit a particular house.  Can you guess why?

It was another of Frank Lloyd Wright’s works, set in a fairly built up area and didn’t open till 11.  It being just 10.15 am right now, we had a while to wait, so we mooched around and took a few photos before deciding that, really, we weren’t that bothered about going inside!  After the spectacular Darwin Martin House in Buffalo, this seemed like small fry…so we jumped back in the car and went on our merry way.

In the meantime, I’d been working on my knitting and completed the cowl I began following our stop at Webs, sometime ago.

Back on the road once more, we planned a stop in Lebanon (the town, not the country)

It had been noted in our guidebook as a small, historic town with an interesting walk around the central area.  Sounded like our kind of thing.

Sure enough, car parked and out on the street, the sun was shining and we were happy to spend a while wandering about the small town.  Though the AAA guide suggested acquiring a map from the local tourist office, none was available, prompting Mary to utter the phrase of the day: “Well, we’ll just have to Lewis and Clark it”.

There were indeed plenty of historic places to see and to visit.

Though we drew the line at historic hardware stores.

There were much more interesting locations across the street, after all.

We didn’t think the notice in the public loos said a great deal for the regular users of this facility, though.

But then, the notice on the vending machine didn’t say much for the City of Lebanon, for that matter, did it?

Still, we liked the Farmers Market poster!

and we rather liked the Green Country Market, too.

They sold many useful things!

Onward then, to Cincy. 

It was early afternoon and perhaps there was time for a quick visit to JoAnns and/or a Michaels?  Sure enough, there they were next door to one another so in I went.  Thankfully, my Hero came into Michaels to join me – actually, to rescue me, for there in the store, a bird was flying about.   Those who know me will know that is enough to send me into a tailspin; in fact, had he not come in when he did, I’d have had to ask someone to help me leave.  No purchases made, then, even though I did have 50% off coupons in my bag.

Cincinatti was soon on the horizon like the Emerald City and we were hopeful that we’d find our way to the Underground Railroad Museum without too much difficulty.

Our satnav was working overtime but seemed to be on track.

We hadn’t reckoned on a ball game taking place right next to the museum however.  Nor on the hundreds and thousands of Reds supporters going to the match.

It wasn’t easy but we made it.  An underground car park was the answer and we got there just in time – ten minutes later and it would have been full.

Almost the first thing we saw was a pair of huge quilts by Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson made from sections of textile art which incorporated mudcloth and three dimensional components.  I appreciated the smaller “handling cloth” for closer inspection.

After such an exuberant opening, the remainder of the exhibits told a rather more sobering story.  Many of the historical details made for uncomfortable reading – I hadn’t realised, for instance, that all black people were regarded as slaves at one point. 

Here was Frederick Douglass, whom we’d “met” earlier in our travels and close by was his friend and associate, Susan B Anthony.

The film narrated by Oprah Winfrey told a desperate tale of the steps a slave had to make on their way to freedom and the bravery and risks taken by those who supported them.

Actually, I found it pretty hard going and was somewhat relieved to come across a temporary exhibit of quilts depicting significant events, characters and issues from black history.

Knowing rather less about the subject than I did about the medium, I chose my favourites based on the design and overall impact rather than the stories they told, and this one by Carolyn Crump was the first exhibit and got us off to a great start.  Three dimensional and exquisitely made, I felt it told the story of the journey very well indeed,

I preferred the less representational designs; those where the message had been considered and worked into the design rather than depicted literally, and this work by Arlene Kweli Jones was one which caught my eye for the strong graphic image and clever use of fabric.  It’s entitled “Repatriation”.

This clever quilt by April Shipp depicts Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Toms Cabin.  Another three dimensional beauty, the design cleverly told the story and was a favourite with us all.

Sadly, I didn’t get a good enough photograph of the information relating to maker of this quilt, telling the story of the organisation of the railroad porters union.  I felt the most successful quilts didn’t need a whole lot of narrative to explain them and that this one in particular worked really well.  My favourite?!

I took so many photographs and felt that there were too many stunning exhibits to share here, but other visitors to the show have shared their reactions here and here, so I’ll leave it there.

No, I’ll finish on a positive note, shall I?

The Ascension by Linda Gray needs no explanation and was a beautifully stitched and pieced hanging depicting one of the most recent events in black history.

As we left the quilt exhibit, we could sense the museum closing around us.  We went into the shop to make a couple of small purchases before working out how to cross the river and make our way to our hotel on the other side – in Kentucky.  Yessss!   (State #36 for me)

Looking for somewhere to eat this evening, we rejected the Big Boy Diner.

We passed right by the wedding party having their photos taken.

I sympathised with the bridesmaid whose shoes were pinching.

We settled instead on Wertheim’s German restaurant and ordered Hefeweissen and Schnitzel.  It was a far from successful choice but writing the Trip Advisor review proved quite cathartic

Quilts and Color

The chance to see an exhibition like this was not to be missed.  I had anticipated having a chance to see some quilts in Ohio, where the tradition is well established and there appears to be a strong heritage.  But this came as a surprise and we were all happy to take the train a few stops up the line and spend the afternoon in the Museum of Fine Arts.

We were hungry and thirsty, though, so had a spot of lunch in the courtyard American Cafe first.  Dorothy would be envious of the view from our table, I knew: That’s Dale Chihuly’s Lime Green Icicle tower there, just feet away from us and we all love it to bits!

As soon as we’d finished, we went on down to the basement, where the quilt exhibit was on show.  Not too busy, most of the visitors were small groups of ladies quietly and thoughtfully viewing each quilt in turn, standing well back to admire the overall composition and allowing plenty of space for everyone to see.  A well disciplined bunch, then!

Most of the quilts were from the late 19th century and made to traditional designs.  The point of the show was the use of colour, of course, and each grouping was placed to illustrate a particular point.  Here, we have some detail of one of those in the complementary colour corner, beautifully made and exquisitely quilted.  Actually, this one was a contender for the one I wanted to sneak into my bag and run away with.

This group of quilts was hung on grey walls, allowing the bright colours to shine out and we felt them to be surprisingly contemporary in the pattern and use of colour.  Each quilt was clearly labelled with details of the maker and the pattern, together with collectors’ notes.  Here’s the information which was beneath the blue, red and yellow quilt on the left of the picture above.

Further on around, there was a group of Amish quilts, hung on rather paler grey walls.  Though these were beautifully made, somehow the larger patterns were overshadowed by those with more detail.

The quilting was exquisite on these pieces too, needless to say.

Just opposite was a firm favourite of many of the visitors; a quilt which was creating a lot of interest mostly because it had been created by a woman in her late 80s.  Fine pieces of carefully chosen silks, stitched in a log cabin pattern with a small embroidered motif in the centre of each one.

Sadly, another visitor was in the way of my photograph, but you’ll get the overall effect of that beauty, which must have taken forever to sew.  By hand, of course.

On we went, past deceptively simple quilts, where the skilful maker had used colour to excellent effect.  Many of these quilts included the same fabrics, identical blue, red or green patterns which were very popular of the time.

Each corner had breathtaking examples of the finest needlework, tiny quilting stitches and perfectly pieced tops.

Each one illustrated a point – this one was with a few optical illusions, created by skilful use of colour and pattern.

The was the poster quilt; the one chosen to illustrate the cover of the exhibition catalogue and to hang on the outside of the museum on huge banners.  Strikingly colourful, it appeared to follow no rules at all, but to use the colours with exuberance in a great pattern, all hand stitched.  It had been made by an unknown African-American maker, probably in the 1940s.

Though I could admire the marvellous needle skills on show in this Baltimore Beauty,  actually preferred many of the others.  It was remarkable for the sheer quantity of work which had gone into it, however, and would probably take the majority of us ordinary stitchers a lifetime to sew.

We took another quick look around to make sure we’d missed nothing, spent a while in the gift shop where our favourite quilts were sadly not those chosen for postcards and decided to move right along.

After all, we couldn’t leave without paying homage to our favourites, could we?  The Singer Sargent collection hangs directly above the quilt show, so within seconds we were standing in front of this beauty.  Actually, I will admit to a little eavesdropping on the ladies sitting on the sofa, too – they were discussing Downton Abbey plotlines and their thoughts were quite amusing!

Last but not least, on this warm, sultry afternoon, I said hello to the boys in the pasture, so wonderfully captured by Winslow Homer.  We have a postcard of the painting, bought on one of our early visits to this gallery and which sits on a shelf in our guest bedroom.  On every subsequent visit, I’ve come to check it’s still here and looking good!

Time to go then.  To catch the T back to the hotel and to take a short rest before dinner.  The clouds were coming in quickly and we feared it was going to rain, so fingers crossed that we’d reach the hotel before it did.

About half an hour after we got back, we watched as the storm clouds gathered and the rain began.  We timed it just right!  What a lovely day we’ve had here; what a great city it is that can offer so much within such a small area and still provide much joy and ample reward on repeated visits too.  Tomorrow, we’ll move on, begin our road trip proper and leave the city behind as we go off into the Berkshires.  It’s going to be fun!

Familiar territory

Unfinished embroidery projects, bits of half worked needlepoint and carrier bags with odd pieces of knitting in them, rolled up with the magazine which contains the pattern.  I think we all have such things tucked away somewhere and occasionally, I pull one out and think I’ll finish it.  But more often than not, the mere sight of it is enough to remind me why I became bored with it in the first place and I put it all back in the bag and stuff it back where it came from.  At home, these things were put behind the sofa and when we cleared Mummy’s house, sure enough, there they all were.  Did I add her UFOs to mine?  I’ll admit to keeping a couple!

So when I finished my meeting in Cirencester this morning and poked my head around the gallery door, my eyes fell on some familiar things.  There they all were!  All those half done cushion covers, the single socks and the pieces of embroidery with the needle still tucked in.  Tales of the Unfinishable is in town and clearly this project has hit the spot with a good many people, just as it did with me.

The exhibition is a kind of tent, with the colourful pieces on the outside tempting the visitor inside where the background stories are being told.  As I wandered around reading some of the short tales accompanying the actual pieces, I heard the voices of the contributors playing through the loudspeaker.  I was the only one there, so had a good look around, untroubled by anyone else – lucky me!

Of course, I had favourites.  Who hasn’t started a blackwork project like this with great enthusiasm, enjoying the rigour of the stitch without any of the worry of which colour should be in the needle?  But after a while, such detail begins to challenge and even after many hours work, there still seems so much still to do.  This is exactly the type of embroidery which I could find, stuffed in a cupboard here at home and which I have undoubtedly thought that I will finish some day.  One day.  Maybe.

Occasionally, at WI, we’ve had a bit of a swap shop, where people bring their unfinished projects and swap them for a different one.  Somehow, someone else’s unfinished work is more interesting than my own and of course, it doesn’t come with any …  well, I’ve tried hard to avoid the word, but I think you’ll know I’m talking about “guilt” here?  Is there guilt packed away with those bits of unfinished work then?  I don’t really know why, but yes, there is.  Not always, but definitely sometimes.  Did anyone mention feeling bad about having so many unfinished pieces of work stashed away or was it just me?  I looked around the exhibition to find a piece which took me home, so to speak.

And there it was.  In the last case I found the piece which was so typical of the kind of project I found behind the sofa.  A half finished cardigan, started with enthusiasm and the best of intentions but ultimately just too boring to knit.  I loved reading the story which accompanied it and wondered just how many such things there are in the world.  Why do we hang on to them all when we know, in our hearts that we’ll never finish them?

What a great concept for an exhibition, then!  What a marvellous idea to bring out all of those half finished wonders and prompt our memories like this!  If only I’d thought of it first, I could have populated the whole exhibition with my unfinished work alone

Highly recommended, the exhibition seems to finish here, having travelled all over the country already.  Quite how I missed it previously, I have no idea, but I’ll enjoy reading the ongoing blog and might even explore some of my UFOs and see if there’s something I fancy finishing.

Of course, I’ll put it all straight back again after I’ve looked, though.

..and what wasn’t

Of course, there were plenty of other treasures we simply had to leave behind.  Not only the quipu in the antique stall on Pisac market, but also a few pieces of rather lovely textiles too.

Our hotel in Urubamba had a huge bathroom and either side of the free standing bath were long ottoman-style stools upholstered in this rather lovely (hand?) embroidered fabric.

The fabric itself is wool – or alpaca, maybe – and the embroidery worked in similar yarn.  Mostly french knots or similar, there were other pieces of this work for sale in the shop on site and also in the more expensive gift shops.  Scarves and shawls as well as cushions were worked in this style but though I admired the work, the price of such pieces was pretty hefty.  And whilst I don’t doubt the work to be authentic and traditional, for some reason, it didn’t say “Peru” to me.  I suspect, too, that it would look all too juicy to our Gloucestershire moths as well

There was a similar technique worked on the cushions in our room, but this time worked on velvet fabric.  I recognise the french knots of course, but the lines?  Raised chain band do you think?

Finally, I resisted any temptation to bring home a piece of costume, however fun and authentic it might be.  It was a good opportunity to take a closer look though!

pWhat was in the bag?

It was a fairly busy week; one of those which filled up as the days have gone by and built up momentum rather.  So, the bag of good things sitting at my feet here in the studio went unopened until now.

The bag itself was bought in Chinchero, as were most of our treasures.  It’s a sturdy woven fabric, has the zip pocket but is otherwise a simple striped bucket bag.  I’ll enjoy using it.

We couldn’t leave Peru without buying one chullo but rather than choose one with llamas and suchlike, we went for a softer, alpaca one in pretty, plant-dyed colours whilst we were at the market in Pisac.

Not being a particularly adept French-Knotter myself, I quite liked the surface decoration.

Now, you already know about this length of braid from that same market, intended for my hat.  Since we’ve been home, I’ve got hold of the book and have read a little more about the methods of weaving these narrow pieces.  The concern appears to be that younger women are working more on these narrow, quicker projects rather than the larger, more time consuming pieces because they are more saleable of course.

So, I am particularly happy that we chose a bigger piece when we were in Chinchero.  Clearly, a more complex combination of pattern, this weaving is about 45cm wide and a metre or so in length and was worked on a backstrap loom by one of the women in the cooperative.  The patterns are traditional and include the hoe “hook”, the cows eye (circle with a dot in the middle) and puma claws, similar to the narrow braid design.  The yarns are dyed with natural dyes and though the bulk of the weaving is worked in wool, the white puma claws are alpaca.

The whole piece is edged with the traditional “eye border”, worked with the forked stick and by picking up the threads in exactly the same way as we watched the woman doing that morning.

 

We plan to hang our weaving somewhere at home, though right now, are undecided where and how!

We love it!

We brought home a few more small pieces, though considering the price, it’s hard to believe they are of quite the same heritage.  Still, they are colourful and useful examples of Peruvian textile traditions, for sure.

Oh, and one last piece.  My hero spotted the lady with these bags sitting quietly on the grass outside the cathedral.  I paid hardly anything for it, which is possibly just as well, because it’s not exactly heirloom quality!  But it’s made from a piece of old fabric, is colourful and fun and for me, it represents a morning spent chatting with those old ladies who were happy to tell us about their costume, their life and their failing eyesight.  We loved them.