Every once in a while, you need to make a quilt that matches Aunt Hilda's sofa, or fits your pre-teen's Barbie doll self-image, or is the perfect gift for your husband, in his colors and symbols. Well, I've been there, done that, and got the T-Shirt, but it happened again. We were going to go to the Porsche Parade in Portland last year, so I again created a quilt for my husband, in his colors and symbols, to enter into the Art Show.
Now, you must realize that my husband is a Porsche fanatic (or fancier, whatever they call them, sort of like a fabriholic, but with cars instead of fabric), and his hobby is taking pictures of his car; hundreds of pictures of his car. So, when I realized we were going to Parade, which has an art show, I blithely said "Oh, I'll make a Porsche quilt for you to enter into the Art Show, do you have some pictures I could use?" He chose 978 of his favorite photos. I said, "You'll have to pare it down a bit, Pat." He got it down to 250 of his favorite photos. I chose several of them to re-create in fabric, and thought I would set them into a background map of the Bay Area. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
The blocks, which are floated into the background, depict the Palace of Fine Arts, Treasure Island, China Basin, Mines Road, the Blackhawk Museum, the Golden Gate Bridge, a raging Merced river, and the Legion of Honor. These blocks were created individually, then appliquéd to a very large appliquéd background of the Pacific Coast near Half-Moon bay, using a variety of techniques.
I looked at each individual miniature as a challenge. What would it take to make each scene as real as it can possibly be without actually becoming 3-dimensional? What could I do to make it feel as if you are THERE, in the moment, experiencing the light and shadow, color and dimension, the texture and taste of that instant in time? Some of these scenes are pieced, all of the cars and skies are hand-painted; some aspects are appliquéd, most of the details are stitched or fused, but some of them use Puff Paint, melted cracked ice, melted painted cellophane, Tintzl, Angelina fiber, and more, to make them come alive.
Well, I got all of the blocks finished, but when I went to set them into a map of the Bay Area it just wouldn't work, since the Bay Area map is vertical, while my husband wanted a horizontal quilt to fit in his office at work. On to Plan B.
Okay, what else would work? I had another shot of the coast that didn't work on the front, but I could blow it up, reverse it, then blow it up REALLY BIG to make the background for all of the other shots. It was truly intriguing to make all of the other blocks fit into the overall background shot of the coast, to make the water in one block merge into background, to make the parking lot of the Black Hawk museum merge into the hills, and make Mines Road merge into the coastline. THEN, just to mess with everybody's mind, I took the original picture of the coast (not reversed) and painted it on the back, showing my husband behind his 911, saluting everyone with his wine glass. This is actually the biggest label in the world (probably) because Patrick would not allow me to sew through his car with my sewing machine (sacrilege!). It's hard to live with a Porscheholic, since he critiqued every aspect and color of each block – especially the rims and every detail of his car. (It's probably even more difficult to live with a fabriholic, but that's HIS problem!)
So, we took the quilt to the Porsche Parade in Portland, and it won Best of Show; not just Best in Class, but Best of SHOW, which meant I won the same prize that the best of the Concours cars (probably a million dollar car or more) received – a trophy made of a mounted 356 steering wheel, plus an elaborate ribbon in three colors. Glory. It was even more interesting that people spoke of my quilt as THE QUILT, even though there were 5 or 8 other quilts at the show.
Now, you must realize that my husband is a Porsche fanatic (or fancier, whatever they call them, sort of like a fabriholic, but with cars instead of fabric), and his hobby is taking pictures of his car; hundreds of pictures of his car. So, when I realized we were going to Parade, which has an art show, I blithely said "Oh, I'll make a Porsche quilt for you to enter into the Art Show, do you have some pictures I could use?" He chose 978 of his favorite photos. I said, "You'll have to pare it down a bit, Pat." He got it down to 250 of his favorite photos. I chose several of them to re-create in fabric, and thought I would set them into a background map of the Bay Area. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
The blocks, which are floated into the background, depict the Palace of Fine Arts, Treasure Island, China Basin, Mines Road, the Blackhawk Museum, the Golden Gate Bridge, a raging Merced river, and the Legion of Honor. These blocks were created individually, then appliquéd to a very large appliquéd background of the Pacific Coast near Half-Moon bay, using a variety of techniques.
I looked at each individual miniature as a challenge. What would it take to make each scene as real as it can possibly be without actually becoming 3-dimensional? What could I do to make it feel as if you are THERE, in the moment, experiencing the light and shadow, color and dimension, the texture and taste of that instant in time? Some of these scenes are pieced, all of the cars and skies are hand-painted; some aspects are appliquéd, most of the details are stitched or fused, but some of them use Puff Paint, melted cracked ice, melted painted cellophane, Tintzl, Angelina fiber, and more, to make them come alive.
Well, I got all of the blocks finished, but when I went to set them into a map of the Bay Area it just wouldn't work, since the Bay Area map is vertical, while my husband wanted a horizontal quilt to fit in his office at work. On to Plan B.
Okay, what else would work? I had another shot of the coast that didn't work on the front, but I could blow it up, reverse it, then blow it up REALLY BIG to make the background for all of the other shots. It was truly intriguing to make all of the other blocks fit into the overall background shot of the coast, to make the water in one block merge into background, to make the parking lot of the Black Hawk museum merge into the hills, and make Mines Road merge into the coastline. THEN, just to mess with everybody's mind, I took the original picture of the coast (not reversed) and painted it on the back, showing my husband behind his 911, saluting everyone with his wine glass. This is actually the biggest label in the world (probably) because Patrick would not allow me to sew through his car with my sewing machine (sacrilege!). It's hard to live with a Porscheholic, since he critiqued every aspect and color of each block – especially the rims and every detail of his car. (It's probably even more difficult to live with a fabriholic, but that's HIS problem!)
So, we took the quilt to the Porsche Parade in Portland, and it won Best of Show; not just Best in Class, but Best of SHOW, which meant I won the same prize that the best of the Concours cars (probably a million dollar car or more) received – a trophy made of a mounted 356 steering wheel, plus an elaborate ribbon in three colors. Glory. It was even more interesting that people spoke of my quilt as THE QUILT, even though there were 5 or 8 other quilts at the show.
Well, that's not the end. Dr. Wolfgang Porsche was at the Parade, and we were at the banquet, mingling, and one of the other people in our group said: "Why don't you get him to sign it?" My thought was, why do I want HIM to sign it? It's MY QUILT!"; but saner voices intruded, saying that in a Porsche owner's view, it would double the value of the quilt. I'm from Minnesota; money talks to me; besides, it's my husband's quilt, now, and he would value it more with Dr. Wolfgang Porsche's signature on it (the sign of a true fanatic, or is it devotee?) Anyway, after talking with Dr. Porsche's media representative, it turned out Dr. Porsche would be happy to sign it, but he was leaving the next day, so if it was going to be signed, it would have to be that night. So be it.
Patrick and I went back to the Art Show and were able to sweet talk the quilt out for a little while. We took it upstairs, where Dr. Porsche took his time trying out pens and then signed it – right in the middle of the center of the pristinely white sidewalk of the Legion of Honor in the center of the quilt. To Patrick, this absolutely doubled the quilt's value; to me, it was a bit of a shock, but it's all part of making a quilt for someone else, letting it be in their color, their style, and letting their heroes sign it, if they want.
I think I'll just "suck it up, Princess," get over it, and sign it, too!