Report: Prospect.1 New Orleans

Love makes people do crazy things, or at least things that might seem crazy at first. In 2007, Dan Cameron left his job of ten years as senior curator at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in New York to organize a biennial in New Orleans. Cameron fell in love with the city in 1987 when he first arrived for the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. After Hurricane Katrina hit, he began to conceive of a citywide exhibition, sensing a need to reestablish the city as a cultural jewel and reinvigorate its artistic life. This past Halloween weekend marked the opening of Cameron’s ambitious vision three years in the making, as art-world aficionados and the just plain curious, including myself, flocked to New Orleans for Prospect.1, an event billed as the largest exhibition of contemporary art ever held in America. The biennial takes place across the city in a number of institutions, halls and public space and features eighty-one artists from all over the globe, with nine from Louisiana.

Boarded up and demolished homes are still abundant in the Lower Ninth Ward, where devastation from Katrina was greatest, and it is in this neighborhood that some of the most affective works in the biennial can be found. Spray-painted X marks stain the sides of abandoned homes, with numbers below indicating if and how many bodies were found inside after the flooding. Many plots of land house little more than scraps of cement foundations, if anything at all. Mark Bradford’s gigantic Noah’s Ark sits on one such empty plot.


The stunning ark is made of planks of plywood that surround three grey shipping containers. Its exterior is plastered with a collage of shredded posters, making the ark look beaten and worn and recalling the collage-like effect of Bradford’s paintings. I was lucky enough to hear the artist speak about Noah’s Ark the day before P.1 officially opened. As he stood in front of the towering piece, the sun setting just behind the ship’s bow, Bradford explained that the arc questions “why so many lots, why so little building,” and visualizes the lack of organization and responsibility with which America greeted the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. The ark faces the Claiborne Bridge, where levee failure during Katrina contributed to the massive flooding of the Lower Ninth. While it is meant to symbolize irresponsibility and neglect, Noah’s Ark also engages with the rebuilding of homes taking place in the surrounding neighborhood under organizations such as Common Grounds and Brad Pitt’s The Pink Project. The heated argument over whether it is even safe to rebuild in this area, and if not, where the locals should go, provides a resounding undertone.

Nearby at the L9 Center for the Arts, photographs by Chandra McCormick and Keith Calhoun line the walls of two separate rooms. McCormick and Calhoun, who both grew up in the Lower Ninth, have photographed local African-American culture for decades. I cannot think of a better way to describe the spirit of the couples’ photographic style than as, according to The New York Times, New York University Professor Deborah Willis put it: “distinct because their lens [is] a loving one.” Their images emanate a palpable sense of cultural intimacy, adoration and inquisitiveness. McCormick told me that when Katrina hit she and her husband lost nearly seventy percent of their photographs and negatives. Those they could salvage, they put in freezers to stop the deterioration. In one room at L9 the couple displays images of local bands, people hanging out in bars, church ceremonies and inmates at the Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola. In the adjacent room hang photographs damaged by Katrina, with mud stains and watermarks forming tragically beautiful abstract shapes that cover and distort the underlying images. Each damaged photograph becomes a record of two separate events, with the mess of Katrina seeming to wipe away a past, perhaps a whole culture, that might never be replenished. Yet several of the disfigured images are recognizable from their pristine counterparts in the other room, and this juxtaposition creates a sense of loss but also one of the possibilities for perseverance, rejuvenation and hope in the aftermath of disaster.

Another stunning set of photographs hangs at the Old U.S. Mint. Zwelethu Mthethwa’s Common Ground series documents the lives and homes of South Africa’s population of migrant workers alongside the devastation suffered by New Orleans at the hands of Katrina. Vibrantly colored images of neatly kept, sparse interiors and dilapidated exteriors of homes in South Africa are interspersed with images of water-damaged racks of clothing and destroyed homes in New Orleans. Mthethwa links the local with the global, reminding us that tragedy and suffering, like love, are shared experiences among all humans. In a nearby room Stephen Rhodes has created a disturbing installation consisting of videos of recognizable politicians popping red, white and blue balloons or whipping each other with chains in jerking, robotic movements.

Kirscha Kaechele, the creator and director of KK Projects, seized the opportunity of the hype and influx of people surrounding P.1’s opening weekend to stage her own biennial. KK’s parallel show consists of a series of site-specific installations at the organization’s six houses on N. Villere Street in the Saint Roch area, and at the Bywater brickyard. At The Bakery on N. Villere, Peter Nadin has sunk a number of terracotta relief sculptures and bits of detritus in a large pool of black honey. While inspecting Nadin’s sweet-smelling piece, another onlooker, who told me that she lives in New Orleans, remarked upon the irony and insensitivity of pouring three hundred pounds of honey into a box on the floor when people in the surrounding neighborhoods are poor and starving. Good point.

I arrived at the installations at the Bywater brickyard Saturday evening after dark, where upon driving up to the old molasses factory I caught a glimpse of a small house made of panels of glass that stood amongst hundreds of piles of bricks. A two-piece band played slow, eerie music infused with a bit of Jazz on a circular platform next to the factory, and I felt as if I had unknowingly entered into a David Lynch film. Inside the factory, several astonishing embellished mattresses by the British artist Louise Riley hung from the ceiling in various contortions. In the next room was an inundating environment by Homemade Parachutes, a New Orleans collective, which resembled a twisted version of a childhood’s fantasy playground. Onto Sweet Loraine’s Jazz Club, where video and performance artist Kalup Linzy sang cabaret backed by a New Orleans pickup band. Wearing a sparkling silver unitard, Linzy belted out his own “Asshole” and classic tunes such as James Brown’s “Please Please Please,” ending with a wonderful rendition of “Proud Mary.”

At around 4pm on Sunday, Victor Harris and the Mandingo Warriors Mardi Gras Indians staged an incredible performance in the entrance hall of the New Orleans Museum of Art. Dressed in elaborately decorated, colorful costumes, Harris and his troupe danced to the rhythm of drums and tambourines for over an hour as Harris called forth the spirit that he has named Fi-Yi-Yi. About fifteen minutes into the performance a man emerged wearing a traditional Mardi Gras Indian costume made of black and white jewels arranged in mesmerizing patterns. He also bore a gigantic white feather headdress, an ornate mask and a shield lined with white feathers. Following his entrance the excitement and tension in the room became even more palpable, and the group danced vigorously as the music became louder and faster. Harris and another, older man intermittently sang into microphones and chanted “Fi-Yi-Yi.”

A tradition that goes back more that one hundred twenty years, Mardi Gras Indian costumes pay homage to Native Americans. Wearing an Indian suit is a form of embodiment that often facilitates entering “into the spirit,” and traditional Mardi Gras Indian performances are reminiscent of spiritual, shamanic and voodoo traditions. Lining the walls of the entrance hall in which the Mandingo Warriors performed were black and white paintings by New Orleans–based Willie Birch depicting melancholic scenes of daily life in NOLA, hectic street celebrations and Mardi Gras Indian performances; a slice of the varying facets of New Orleans life that connected beautifully with the ensuing performance. It became clear that we were witnessing something intimate and sacred to the local culture, something truly heartfelt. The mood was one of an incredible sense of community, energy and joy, no doubt heightened by the impending presidential elections. When Harris shouted “A change is gonna come,” the crowd erupted into applause and cheers.

Throughout my weekend in New Orleans, I heard several people say that P.1 lacks an overall cohesiveness. I say, so what? There is a link in the energy and compassion that imbues many of the works inspired by New Orleans culture or Hurricane Katrina, and those that are not New Orleans-oriented add another dynamic to the mix. A greater attempt on the part of Cameron and the P.1 team to implement an overarching theme would feel forced and restrictive. Biennials, especially one of this scale, should be a blend of contemporary art and cultures without a visible effort to make the varying parts homogeneous. Perhaps the frustration with the supposed disjointedness is fueled by how sprawling the biennial is. P.1 sites are found in neighborhoods all across the city, and visitors have to either rent a car or hop on a shuttle bus to see the many works and spaces. I think this makes the biennial more fun, adding a feeling akin to the excitement of a treasure hunt, and it allows people who don’t know the city to get a sense of the individual areas and the cultural diversity. It is certainly a change from other biennials, where works and events are often isolated to specific districts or institutions, creating a vivid break between the exhibition(s) and the surrounding city. Such a dichotomy puts biennials at risk of seeming parasitic and imposing. Through the integration of the city in its entirety, Dan Cameron and the P.1 team manage to not only put art but also a city, full of tragedy, triumph and the love people feel for it, on display. At its best, this biennial will draw attention towards all that needs to be done to replenish New Orleans, but also towards the city's energy and vibrancy that have refused to cease to thrive.


Prospect.1 New Orleans opened to the public on Saturday, November 1st, 2008, and will run until January 18, 2009.

More Images:


Nari Ward, Diamond Gym, 2008, installation at the Battle Ground Baptist Church, Lower Ninth Ward

Peter Nadin, installation at KK Projects' The Bakery on N. Villere Street, 2008


Willie Birch, title unknown, 2008, on view at New Orleans Museum of Art

Victor Harris and the Mandingo Warriors Mardi Gras Indians at the New Orleans Museum of Art, November 2, 2008


Mike Bradford, Noah's Ark, 2008, installation on view in the Lower Ninth Ward


Read more On "Report: Prospect.1 New Orleans"!

Commenting: The Solypsisyphisticate #5

Let’s Talk About Sex, Part I: Hey, Ladies!

In the aftermath of Barack Obama’s election to the Presidency of These United States, we’ve heard from everyone from Jesse Jackson to Andy Rooney about the great progress our country has made by electing a black man as President. This congratulatory back-patting has become almost a national obsession, but it wasn’t that long ago that people were arguing about whether he was too black or not black enough. Commentators from every greasy tentacle of the many-headed hydra that is the news media opined over whether America was ready to elect a black President, often leaving the question hanging, prompting the viewer to fill in the implied, resounding “No.” All of that is forgotten now that we’ve reached the mountaintop.

Of course, the question of race is infinitely more complicated than this, and we’ve still got a long way to go. In the midst of all this, we’ve also lost sight of another factor that was just as, if not more complicated and important during this long campaign: the question of gender. Remember the brouhaha over Hillary supporters migrating en masse to the Republican side? The news media beat that dead horse for months. When Sarah Palin entered the race, it seemed for a brief (very brief) moment that maybe the rumored betrayal would actually take place. In an election that seemed at times to be all about women, why couldn’t one win a spot in the White House?

The answer is pretty straightforward: just as black people are as varied in their personalities and characters as any other ethnic group, so are women as different from each other as men are. I almost feel stupid for having to say this, but it would appear that some people find it less than obvious. The McCain campaign, for example, when it assumed that Palin and Clinton were more or less interchangeable, or the Bush administration when it thought the same about Sandra Day O’Connor and Harriet Myers. The numbers agree with this bit of common sense. As important as “identity politics” was supposed to have been in this election, a greater percentage of both whites and women (who tend to turn out in larger numbers than men) voted for Obama than did for John Kerry in 2004.

Rather than thinking strictly about gender identity, let’s look at this in terms of masculinity and femininity.* First of all, we can throw femininity out the window as far as winning votes is concerned. Showing your feminine side (especially for a female candidate) is a disaster. Consider Hillary’s fake crying during the primaries, or Palin’s catty winks during the vice-presidential debate. Indeed, both of the prominent female candidates were presented as clearly masculine. Hillary has for a long time been seen as less than ladylike, and she went out of her way to prove it in the infamous shot-and-a-beer incident. Sarah Palin not only shoots wild animals from helicopters, she barely took a day off when she just happened to pop out a baby. While this sort of thing is impressive, it’s also a little off-putting, I think, for the general populace.

The other prominent woman who came out on the losing end of the 2008 election is Cindy McCain, who tried to pass herself off as the consummate loving-wife-and-mother, but came off as a pill-popping, trust-fund ice queen. The whole debacle was summed up pretty well in her turn as spokesmodel in SNL’s McCain-Palin QVC spoof. The comparison between Cindy and our future First Lady is staggering. Watching Michelle Obama’s convention speech, I felt that she was a little too tame, but in retrospect, she displayed there exactly the qualities that made her such a valuable asset to the Democratic ticket (after a fairly shaky start). She deftly negotiates the area between ambitious second-wave feminist and smartly dressed caregiver. Probably more than Barack was a “post-race” candidate, Michelle is a “post-feminist” figure. By this I mean that she confounds the old notions of the successful woman, of which Hillary is a prime example. Clinton will never be free of a widespread public perception that she is a frigid and vengeful shrew, that she is hardly a woman, or even human. This is perhaps unfair given the necessity of a forceful ambition for a woman of her generation to succeed. However, just as Barack Obama has eclipsed the traditional black power structure, it will take a new generation of women to actually break open that cracked glass ceiling.

While conflating racial and sexual politics is always a tenuous proposition, a renewed movement toward gender equality might look something like Obama’s vision of a national conversation on race, as outlined in his famous speech in Philadelphia. As a man, my experience of the trials and tribulations of simply being a woman in America is necessarily limited. I have been guilty, as I think most men often are, of being unresponsive to or dismissive of women’s concerns, even of those very close to me. But I think it’s also fair to say that women can be incredulous that there even are any difficulties inherent in the male experience. Where can we find common ground? What follows may be a bit crude, but in order to have an honest conversation, we need to stop taking ourselves so seriously. There’s a better than 99% chance that, if you’re alive and reading this, your parents fucked at least once. Just about everybody does at one time or another. Some people are black, some people are white, some people are straight, some people are gay, some people are women, some people are men, but everybody fucks. And I’m not talking strictly about coitus (penis in vagina), but the entire range of practices that could imaginably fall under the heading of “sex.” Honestly, most of the problems that arise between men and women ultimately have to do with sex. Since the ‘60s, just as race relations have become increasingly contentious but simultaneously less overtly so, gender relations have supposedly suffered from their desexualization while in reality tensions about sex are higher than ever. Somewhere between that episode of “Blossom” about condoms and the Lewinsky affair, shit got really weird. When we talk about sex nowadays, be it in private discussions or media analysis, the neurosis and immaturity of the American psyche is on full display. Rather than bragging to your boys about some drunk girl you banged** in an alley or complaining to your girlfriends about how your man has no idea what he’s doing down there, why don’t we talk to each other about what we actually do in the bedroom (or wherever) and what we could do better? You know who can help you with this? Your gay friends. Isn’t that ironic? You do have some, don’t you?

I imagine some of you might be taken aback to find yourselves reading about sex when I started off talking about female politicians. Listen, if men and women are able to have frank and open discussions about sex, perhaps we’ll be able to enjoy and respect our bodies for a change. If sex is in the open and no longer stigmatized, that has real benefits in terms of perceptions of women’s rights to sexual self-determination and reproductive freedom, and it might just lift some of the mystique of female sexuality that puts such psychological pressure on people of both sexes. Maybe then we can move beyond attitudes of victimization and resentment in favor of an attempt at mutual understanding. To this end, we should be willing to speak frankly and openly in a conversation that requires the engagement of men as much as women.

(To be continued . . .)

* Loosely conceived as those attributes generally perceived to be more common in males than females, or vice versa, though not necessarily exclusive to them. The elephant in the room is, of course, queer people. In my own experience, everyone is queer in one way or another. However, I think it’s fair for the purposes of this particular conversation to limit the examination of gender to ostensibly straight people.

** Can we please stop using this term? “Nailed,” too, thank you.

Read more On "Commenting: The Solypsisyphisticate #5"!

Ramona Maps: Primitive Painter

Gifted Children Records are serving up some outsider art for us lucky folks.
You’re Not Here: Selected Works from Ramona Maps comes out on Dec. 1st.

Years back, we briefly met a curious woman who calls herself “Ramona Maps” while passing through a little town called Jerome in Arizona. Jerome was once a largely populated mining town, but now sits as an ominous shell of what once was, populated by “the last great weirdos” (as one local put it), a small lot of artists (many of which, transplants), and just-passing-through tourists. We know it as one of the great ghost town stops in the United States. Another impressive title? “Meth-head central.”

We exchanged addresses with Ramona Maps in 2003 and due to the absence of a computer or Internet access in her life, have since been writing (by post) back and forth for the past five years.
Paintings, illustrations, mixed mediums, collages, recordings, diary entries, short stories, you name it, filled these envelopes – In essence, we received (or Xerox copies of) her "entire life's work," as she now puts it, some works dating as far back as 1979: Her beginnings as an artist at the age of 6, using just water color and pencil.

After careful planning, intense difficulty communicating, long waits for “Ramona mail,” and connecting Ramona Maps to a home in Prescott (AZ) with Internet service, we are elated to announce we will be releasing her work to the public as a booklet series, each booklet accompanied by a CD-R of Ramona Maps’ self-recordings, which by default, fall into the experimental category. The Ramona Maps Series will be divided by medium and/or era in which it belongs to.

Our first in the series, You’re Not Here: Selected Works collects her work from 1979-1987, all of which includes her “primitive” watercolor works. Dealing with religious imagery and subjects of “soft” abuse, these works are not so much primitive, but rather advanced for a child creating such between the ages of six and fourteen.

In addition to her artwork, the pages are filled with scans of original diary entries from these years, as well as more recent narratives that accompany these pieces.

Along with a piece entitled “No More,” showing a Jesus figure hugging a child and a skeleton who’s heart is being stolen from its chest, Ramona Maps wrote this in 2007, reflecting back to 1981:

Our Sundays were spent recognizing the Sabbath. I was unable to listen to the radio or play. My father made me spend four hours (timed) with him, reading the Bible outloud. Side by side, we sat together. I read while he navigated my reading by using a bookmark under each line, as I read it outloud. He did this to make sure I read slowly and clearly and didn’t skip ahead. I remember crying and shrieking many times when he woke me on Sundays. At times, he would even pull me up out of bed and force me downstairs to the kitchen table. I hated reading and hated reading the Bible. I found it so boring, and at times, torturous.

I remember clearly the first time we came to the very last page of the Bible. I felt relieved. We had finished. I thought it was over. The next Sunday, I was awoken, sat down and we started again at Genesis 1:1.

In my life, I believe I have read the Bible, cover to cover, eighteen times. There are marks in the back pages of my Bible under “Notes” for each time we finished. Read more On "Ramona Maps: Primitive Painter"!

Children of The Flower Children 2008 to 2008 RIP

They played Vol. 1 the other night for the first time and also the last time.



Read more On "Children of The Flower Children 2008 to 2008 RIP"!

Los Campesinos, No Age, Times New Viking split 7 inch download

There are very few bands I get as obsessed with as these three and somehow (maybe through their October tour?) they all end up on one piece of vinyl together.
We got the DL from our pals at Impose.
Times New Viking covering The Clean?
Yes please!

Read more On "Los Campesinos, No Age, Times New Viking split 7 inch download"!

If Mavis Staples Says So...

Mavis Staples, who marched and sang and protested alongside Dr. Martin Luther King during the Civil Rights movement of the 1960’s, saw her steadfast dedication to equality and unwavering sense of hope validated on Tuesday. She writes:


“To come up in a time when there was slavery, racism, the KKK, and Jim Crow, I'm just so grateful to still be here to enjoy this historical time in our lives. It is so surreal, so completely overwhelming.

This young black man has inspired and brought the country together. There's something about him that makes me feel he is the chosen one. There's something about his leadership that makes people feel calm and safe. He has inspired hopes and dreams of all people - black, white, brown or yellow. Doctor King and Pops I just know are so happy. "The Dream" is alive.”


Staples’ new record -- Mavis Staples Live: Hope At The Hideout, which also came out on Tuesday -- takes on a whole new significance in the wake of this historic win for equal rights. Recorded in June in an intimate bar in her hometown of Chicago, the record is filled with freedom songs like “We Shall Not Be Moved” and “Down In Mississippi,” gospel classics like “Will The Circle Be Unbroken,” and her biggest hit, “I’ll Take You There.” Since the record was recorded in the uncertainty of the run-up to the election, it could, on one hand, be taken as another token to the struggle that Staples has devoted her career, and life, to. Yet in the wake of Tuesday’s decision, the songs are suddenly a testament to the uplifting hope and certainty of success that has marked Staples’ work over the past 50+ years.



In addition to her work in the trenches, the Rock & Roll Hall of Famer is also no stranger to political celebrations. Staples has performed at inaugural events for John F. Kennedy, Bill Clinton and Jimmy Carter.

Read more On "If Mavis Staples Says So..."!

Whats With All This Talk of "Heavy?"

I talked to the guys in the Brooklyn band Heavy Hands. It went up originally on Impose, but here it is again.

The Stooges/Blue Cheer/Groundhogs schools of rock have been pillaged by a good number of wanna-be’s who feel a need to try and re-invent a sound that at its basic core should not be reproduced, but should remain sublimely dirty and raw.

It would seem that Heavy Hands understands this, and that is why on their debut full length Smoke Signals (Language of Stone/Drag City), they have produced nine songs of dark and hazy psych rock that is steeped in traditions laid out by not only the holy trinity mentioned above, but also electric blues of the 1960s and traces of Krautrock used sparingly.

I sat down with the guitarist/lead singer Sterling and bassist Mitch (drummer Matt was absent) to find out what it’s like being “heavy.”

Can you back up the rumor that you are the tallest band in New York?

Mitch: It’s hard to prove that but, 6′2″ is the average height.

Sterling: We feel pretty confident that if we aren’t the tallest, we are up in the 99th percentile.

You guys have a weird face/symbol that adorns both your drum kit and the new album cover. What is that?

Sterling: It’s a Sri Lanken mask. It’s the kind of thing you use to ward off evil spirits.

You guys conjure up a lot of evil spirits when you play?

Mitch: Well, it’s not bad to have some on your side.

This has got to be the most rock-oriented album on Language of Stone, an imprint that’s become more known for folksy dream pop. What do you think about your place on the label?

Mitch: It’s cool. On one hand it’s good because I think we stand out. The other bands are a bit mellower so maybe we stand out, but they are coming from a similar place.

Sterling: We’ve played with a few of the bands on the label and it works out pretty well as far as making for a good bill. We’re definitely hoping our sound will help us differentiate ourselves.

Do you think it works to your advantage to be the heavy band in the room?

Sterling: Well when you read some of the people who write about it, they say neither [member of Espers and label owner] Greg Weeks nor we don’t come anywhere near to being folk music.

I know Greg has produced and guested on a good number of the releases his label has put out, was that the case with you guys?

Mitch: No, we actually had the album done by the time he talked to us about putting something out.

Sterling: He saw us live and sent us a line afterwards. We were going to shop for labels but Greg was interested so we decided to go with his.

The new album is called Smoke Signals. Is that an allusion to anything?

Sterling: Maybe. I think it speaks for itself.

Mitch: I have no comment.

Should I just take a guess?

Sterling: Maybe. Use your own allusion
Read more On "Whats With All This Talk of "Heavy?""!

Wild Style Twenty Five Years Old!

This is the only non-Obama news that made me excited today.

(from Todd P.)

Thursday, November 13th @ DANBRO STUDIOS WAREHOUSE

:: WILD STYLE 25TH ANNIVERSARY PARTY
:: a benefit for SHOWPAPER --> http://myspace.com/showpaper

:: Spank Rock
:::: Busy Bee
:::::: Grand Master Caz
:::::::: Grand Wizard Theodore
:::::::::: Double Trouble
:::::::::::: more tba

:: Nov 14-20 ---> WILD STYLE (in 35mm) @ FILM FORUM w/ short films and special guests

[ DANBRO STUDIOS WAREHOUSE ]
268 Meserole St @ Bushwick Pl | East Williamsburg Industrial Park, Brooklyn
L-Montrose, G-Broadway, JM-Hewes | ALL AGES | no phone | doors 8pm | $tba
-- WEBSITE --> http://danbrostudios.com Read more On "Wild Style Twenty Five Years Old!"!

Hungover

We did it!!!!
Read more On "Hungover"!

Quiltin' Time

(above flier: quilted Egyptian necklace by Julie Floersch)

In December 2006, for my birthday, I received a detailed pencil drawing made of twelve taped-together squares from my close friend, Julie Floersch. She told me that she was going to stop working full-time at her seemingly great fashion industry job to make a quilt. I, of course, was supportive, but secretly thought she might have lost her mind. Julie and I both live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, part of an industrial landscape peopled with young, creative, pseudo-alcoholics with cool haircuts. The only people I knew of who were into quilts are long-deceased relatives who had stitched together postage-stamp-sized scraps out of economy and boredom. Where and why would someone I know get the idea to start quilting? Julie was working in fashion and became frustrated with the disposability of our culture. She wanted to "make something that took a lot of time and heart, something that someone would want to hold on to for a long time."

Ironically, it was at work that Julie's idea for her first quilt solidified. "Quilt-making was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while, and I was suddenly exploding with ideas for quilts. It seemed like a natural medium to transition to as I could use all my patternmaking and tailoring knowledge that I had accumulated over the years," she explained. One day, surrounded by piles of denim garments, she realized that she wanted to make a quilt that had that same casually piled, yet sculptural feeling. To achieve that, she would use traditional shapes, tessellating and pleating them until one "couldn't tell where one block started and the other ended." So my pencil drawing originated.

It took an entire month for the pattern alone! The "basic" block went through four or five incarnations and was an odd size (10x10) that wouldn't fit on a standard copy machine screen. "So I had to keep going to Staples to use their oversize machine. Then I would come home and tape everything together and fix areas that didn't look right and go back again until it was right. I think there are over 5000 pieces in it." Julie was so into sewing the quilt that she organized all of the pieces into zippered plastic bags and took it everywhere she went. Her quilt was her constant companion in delis, parks, friends' apartments, and airports. She did a lot of traveling that year, too, so her quilt "saw Europe and the California coast with me!" At home, Julie somehow crammed a gigantic quilting frame into her New York-sized bedroom and clandestinely hand-quilted the entire thing, listening to NPR podcasts and watching So You Think You Can Dance on TV. A year later, the finished quilt is a sprawling denim landscape of approximately 60.5 by 73.5 feet (18.5 by 22.5 meters). Impressive, but Julie says that her least favorite part of the process is when it's over. "It's like reading a book: it's always there waiting for you---you get immersed in it---and you have to finish it to know how it ends but when it's finished it always feels a little sad."

Julie continued to take quilting out of the domain of grannies and this past year presented me with incredible, tiny quilts for my ears and wrists. "It started as a way to get this amazing jewelry that a friend of mine (who only trades) makes…I like that I can make something in a few days that someone can take with them and feel the coziness on their arms or ears all day." The very three-dimensional designs, which look like they could be modern accessories for Ziggy Stardust, have in turn inspired a series of small quilted sculptures. These are made of quilted "modules" with one side printed and another side in a pop color. With snaps at all points, enabling them to be attached and detached from one another, they can be twisted and manipulated into countless configurations. She is also working on a wall quilt of her friends' old favorite clothing, including my favorite spray-painted denim jacket. This month, Julie's quilt will be on display in the window of the Madewell flagship store in Soho (486 Broadway at Broome Street). There will be an opening reception on Thursday, November 6th from 7-9 during which Julie will be customizing totebags with quilted appliques, as well as a complimentary martini bar and some kind of denim/boot sale. RSVP to events@madewell1937.com, and stop by on Thursday evening. Julie Floersch really has found a way to bring the age-old craft of quilting into a modern, and distinctly fashionable, context.

(detail of quilt)


(The quilt's guts/seam allowances)

Read more On "Quiltin' Time"!