It was for several days, that a blue sky quilt idea was floating in my mind.
I resisted for all those days to the temptation to start it, because I was in the middle of other projects. A completely different color occupied my sewing table, the supersaturated red of my monochrome quilt, still to be finished.
I managed to work according to my real preference: one quilt at a time.

Then, my quilting table became free.
I started.
And I submerged for a full weekend on my new blue project, without breathing fresh air for hours.
It fullly captured me.
So strong was the effect of full immersion into a stage of new creation, that every other activity in the queue disappeared from my radar.
I even forgot for one full day to send the announcement of the new quilt+painting gallery that was in preparation here in my hometown!
(Well, the gallery announcement has just been launched – read here if you are in north east Italy, and you consider visiting this super special event soon!).

Blue and white fragments continued to get attached to one another on the design wall, when, suddenly, my composition was not working anymore.
Too big.
The clouds, inspired to the late summer sky visions stored in my mind, needed to become too large… maybe kilometers large… like in the real life.
Not working, not working image at all.

The splash on the design wall soon turned out too busy, giant and pixellated.
I remixed, I ripped sections, I abandoned the initial purpose… but there was no way out.
Until, like a casual gesture, I placed my jelly roll blue strips on the design wall. Strips in series, like a color check, like a grid.
And, surprise-surprise… I started to see my work clearly again.
Thanks to the presence of the grid, I suddenly understood what was happening to my work.

— Alert: engineer nerd content below —

I involuntarily created an “interference grid”.
Like the one I used during my optoelectronic engineering studies… when a laser beam passed through a filter, and became transformed into physically meaningful patterns…
This grid acted, indeed, as a filter.
It helped me to extract mosaic cell scale.
To separate portions of the mosaic having different appearances.
It distilled the randomness of my work into some sub-series having a meaning of their own.

Now, I have decided a possible way on: to use only some portions of my work, to simplify it.
The image should become more readable.
Or at least, the idea returned readable for my mind. I see again a number of possible paths for the progression of my work.

I don’t know if the above story is understandable or even interesting as a quiltmaking phase.
But for me it was important.
The rest, still needs to be written…

When I started discussing with my quilting friends Carla and Giovanna, about the new game to be proposed as a Quilt Improv Studio challenge, I was reading the book Abstract Art. Carla’s proposal to try quilting a monochromatic work was perfectly fitting with the chapter I was reading then: the history of American Monochrome paintings.

At the time to start my monochrome quilt, I decided to experimented a bit with extremes.
I kept the shapes to a minimum (a good occasion to discover the difficulties of minimalism).
As in the monochromatic painting experiments, I focused on surface texture, quilting red on red, going narrow up to matchstick style.

At a certain point, the differences introduced in my quilt started to be barely visible even for me… and this reminded me of a photo galley I made twenty years ago, participating to a science congress on nanotechnologies, dealing with objects having size sometimes too small for being resolved by visible light.

Well… red is the color at the gate of visible light wavelength.
Thus, I decided that my red quilt had gained grades to be dedicated to all the above.

My monochrome quilt is titled “Threshold of the visible”. It makes me think of my experience with microscopy and surface characterization, of the American monochrome texture paintings, and of the wavelength where we start to see red: 740 nanometers!

I’ve attended an on-line quilting workshop with Brenda Gael Smith, on the composition of abstract works inspired from images of our real life. It was already since the first paper-cutting exercise, that my mind started to travel along the theme of water courses. River-like mark-making appeared plenty of times on my resulting mini quilt. Thus, I gave it the title “Stream”.
I explored many rivers along the northern part of Italy, and I collected plenty of stories.

This is the story that I feel being connected with my quilt.

Last Sunday I spent all day touring by bike. I took the train, I reached the town of Cormons, and I routed to the town of San Pietro al Natisone, where a chestnuts fair was in planning.
I had lunch at midway, in Cividale.
After some tea and some rest, I was ready to push the pedal again.

In the afternoon I had to study my map.
The street I expected to use was blocked, due to a local motorbike race.
I tried to reach the limit point, hoping for the race to be finished, but they told me: “motorbikes will continue all day long”.

My route was crossing an area impossible to reach… I was tempted to show my anger to the policeman.
But I managed to keep quiet.
It had to be possible to find another way.

So, I started to explore the surroundings.
There was a tiny lane, just behind the house, that seemed to head for a backyard…
A small wooden signal appeared: “To Purgesimo, 1 mile”.
Great: this was my direction.
Dear cars, if the street is forbidden for you to pass, this doesn’t mean that for us, bike runners, there are no alternatives!

The most beautiful part of my tour started there.
A red pathway between the fields. The beauty of the river, along the side. A sunny sky with yummy clouds.
I spotted a layer of acorns under my wheels; some purple flowers of the specie “aster dumosus”; the dotted decoration on the body of a fleeting snake; two white horses running in the wood, and the sound of water stream audible only by me, cycling alone. Plenty of fruit types where shown at the chestnut fair. I headed back home, with four different chestnut packs, ready for a tasting exercise.

I tried again the composition technique named “dancing with the wall”, learnt during a course with Irene Roderick.

To me, this has clearly the effect pf prompting visions.

I started with some leftovers from previous works, and soon I saw a Liberty style décor.

I added some colours to the curves, and quickly I had the impression of seeing two persons looking to each other, ready to start to dance together. Or maybe it was only a single woman body, imprinted in blue onto the canvas, like during the performances of the painter Yves Klein?

I almost decided for the title “A tango with Klein”, when I rotated a bit the pieces… and suddenly a sea appeared, with people swimming among golden waves in the sunset.

Final version of my work resulted different again, but I wonder where the earlier visions have gone now: are they embedded in the quilt as multi-layer meanings, or they rather have taken an independent imaginary life of their own?

I’ve completed my second quilt realized with the technique named “Wall Dance”, which I learnt studying with Irene Roderick.

I’ve tried to mix the lessons learnt about composition (to be tested by free remix on the design wall), with my habit of growing textures in a continuum, without interruptions.  

I’ve started this work in Summer, before the “Tagliamento king of rivers” exhibit arrangement, and at that time I was thinking: “Why not to include this work in the gallery?”. Too optimistic: I completed this quilt two months after the end of exhibition.

In September I restarted my collaboration with the local quilt shop. During the lecture I gave with them, on finding beauty in abstraction while doing improv (and managing chaos!), I was sewing yellow and green pieces “live”: the fabric which took part of this discussion, later entered into the quilt.

I chose the title: “Grasshopper path”. I imagine being small and jumping across wheat fields, leaving trace of route taken, as indicated by the arrows.

Yesterday I placed the finished quilt on the wall of my living room. My child observed the result, and proposed the following way to compose a quilt: “Take your small pieces of fabric, let them fall on the ground, and sew them in the position they have taken on the floor!”

It was two months that I’ve been waiting for the “Quick Steps” live course by Irene Roderick to come. I was so impatient that I started to count the days remaining to the starting date!

I’ve now completed the attendance. The experience has been up to expectations.

Trying her methodology, named “dancing with the wall”, meant for me to go out of comfort zone. I left behind, for a while, my usual boundaries (to repeat the same shape all around the quilt; to fix the position of figures by sewing blocks step by step). This resulted in an opening of possibilities, if not an exploding of variables!

This method clearly results in a continuous design exercise. Each change brings a surprise (which may be addictive…), each view suggests new ideas…

While doing my first try, I visualized: a sea, a gondola in Venice, a summer festival poster, a gun (no no no… I had to change this!), a horse looking a dog, a family crest, a paper collage, a Liberty style decor…

I experienced getting stuck, tearing it all down, restarting work from scratch. The brain was steaming for the effort of approaching multiple graphic problems: every time, a new balance was required…

After this “dance”, I’ll look to my way of working from a different perspective.