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Monday, Apr 29, 2024

Innovations in Quilting from the Heart of the South

Author: Suzanne Mozes

As the quilts of Gee's Bend, Ala., hang in their unnaturally vertical positions on the walls of the Whitney Museum of American Art, I am immediately reminded of Alice Walker's "Everyday Use."

Walker's short story depicts Dee, a young citified woman, returning home to her unsophisticated mother and sister from the city. Dee fails to understand the true purpose of the quilts, a dowry for her sister, and insists on taking them back with her to hang as art on a wall. Objectifying and alienating the art form, she claims her sister would "be backward enough to put them to everyday use."

While it seems too cruel to strip these blankets from their natural environments and function, their exhibition admittedly honors the hands that wrought their original and intricate designs.

Representing four consecutive generations over the past 80 years, the 46 female artists hailing from Gee's Bend patched the 60 quilts.

Almost all 700 inhabitants of this isolated village descend from the slaves of the original Pettway Plantation, most still bearing the owner's surname.

The land, a peninsula encased on three sides by the Alabama River, finally gained access to the mainland in 1967 with first paved road out of town.

At the same time, the ferry service, a more direct means of transportation, ended when the whites across the river in Camden did not appreciate the citizens of Gee's Bend crossing the river to vote.

Their style of quilting seems to have thrived on this forced isolation.

The quilts diverge from the expectations of classic American patchwork quilts to create a modern design of blocks and shapes.

As Curator Debra Singer told the NY Daily News, "Their extraordinarily painterly approach, and deliberate paring down to the point of minimalism comes from this being such a close-knit community. It has placed a great value on personal inventiveness."

In such a depressed area, the limited fabrics would curb their creativity.

However, by incorporating old work clothes with old voter registration ribbons, khaki surplus fabric, polyester leisure suits, denim, brilliant dashikis, corduroy and even the bloody mattress ticking, unimaginable designs emerge from the women's hands.

Several original patterns repeat such as the "Housetop" or "My Way."

William Ferris of the University of North Carolina's Center for the Study of the American South told the NY Daily News that the Benders' quilts cannot be separated from "a history of textiles that goes back to African roots."

Yet, the artists emphasize the importance of creating one's own patterns in the documentary film that runs continuously in their gallery.

As the voices of these women echo among their quilts, the quilts' significance emerges as not only an art form, but also as stories, history, love and the cycle of human life.

Linda Pettway explained, "I loved to make my own patterns. .... I be knowing where I'm going."

Civil rights activists helped the village establish the Freedom Quilting Bee during the 1960s.

Eventually, this group sold their quilt designs to Bloomingdales, which eventually ended because of the irregularity of their shapes.

Several years later, Sears hired the town as an assembly line for making quilted corduroy pillow shams, introducing corduroy as an available textile.

The quilts gave these women a reason to gather during their hard lives.

Singing hymns, they would assemble on their front porches to socialize and create beauty from recycled fabrics that their families have worn.

Amidst an oppressive society and poverty, these women brought beauty into their own lives.

While most of these quilts were crafted in the 1960s and '70s, the art form seems to be in decline as the need for the quilts wanes with modern technology and textiles.

Young girls no longer need to learn the craft. The generational instruction has come to a staggering halt.

While celebrating the homemade beauty of these quilts, the museum patrons seem to leave with a pensive silence.

The awe of Gee's Bend lies in making beauty out of utility.

Tattered rags become valued spreads for warmth and decoration.

However, a sadness hangs in the gallery with these quilts because they no longer serve their original purpose.

The dichotomy of their beauty lies in their artistic merit and foregone utility.

However, they now fulfill a new purpose -- as art objects in the art world, to be appreciated, not put into use.

William Arnett of Atlanta took note of these quilts, which were then bought by the nonprofit Tinwood Alliance.

The show originated at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston and it was eventually introduced at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City, where it is now on exhibit.


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