Station 5

This year, I chose Station 5, Pilate Judged Jesus, as my contribution to the Stations of the Cross, produced annually by the artists in my church. It is not one of the more traditional 14 stations. Our volunteer coordinator, Margaret, pushed us to produce 28 (!) stations by combining the traditional list with others introduced by a pope, I believe. 

Side note - can you imagine *coordinating* 28 artists?

One of the aspects of this annual ministry that I dearly love is that we acknowledge that everyone is an artist! All ages, all *skill* levels, all who claim they cannot draw, and so on. The only requirement is that it fit on a 24" x 30" canvas with a wire on the back for hanging in our church nave.

As usual, I sketched, fussed, trolled the internet, fussed, and sketched some more. A few days before our presentation at the Starving Artists' soup supper, DH asked me if I was finished. I replied that I was either almost finished or about to start over.

That is because I decided to add some paint. I knew that it would be either done or ruined. Spirit led me to done. Of course, it is always hard to say it's done. Maybe I should add this or that. A deadline has a way of reining me in. 

There are many layers to the story of Pilate judging Jesus. Herod refused to judge Jesus and sent the decision back to Pilate, a local Roman official. Pilate saw the mine field involved in judging this charismatic and spiritual Jesus. So Pilate turned it over to the people. And we all know what the people did. Just like Herod, just like Pilate, they turned their backs on Jesus.

My meditation for this is to wonder when I have turned my back on someone. I still have lots to ponder there. I sat with that thought throughout Lent. And I'm still sitting with it, praying I will be more open to the needs of people I encounter.

The quilt is composed of appliqued shapes of people from the back, silhouettes, really. I used remnants from various sewing projects and varied the contrast so that the upper figures read as fading into the background. The idea was to show lots of people turning their backs on Jesus.

After much gnashing of teeth, I decided to cut a stencil of Jesus based on an image I found online. I never could find a source for the original image, as it only appeared on someone's Pinterest page without a link to the original. It was just right for my idea.

First I printed it on my printer in 8x11 format. Then I enlarged it 175% on the printer in sections. Next I taped the pages together and, using a light box, traced it onto some wonderful stencil paper I purchased from Roland Ricketts. I have no idea what that stencil paper is called, but I enjoyed working with it. It has been sitting in my stash for years. It was nice to finally use it.

The next step was to cut with an exacto knife. That was back-breaking, even using my raised cutting table. Luckily DH has a work table adjusted for his much-taller height. That allowed me to cut the stencil without the awkward curve in my back. It still took a long time but the result was and is very satisfying. I love that stencil.

It occurred to me that the back of my quilt would be a nice test spot for the paint. The fact that the surface is quilted in long fluid lines created a surface not ideal for use of a stencil. I pressed it as flat as I possibly could and taped it to the table. Then I taped the stencil to the quilt. Next I placed my blank screen over it and applied fabric paint to it using an old credit card. It worked.

After the back dried, I did the same to the front. Again the paint sank into the crevices formed by the quilting, but I decided to like the effect. I was done!

This year, I attached the quilt to the canvas with hook-and-loop tape, applying a glue-backed hook strip to the canvas. I attached some sew-in loop tape to a strip of fabric and hand-stitched it to the back of the little quilt. That way, I can remove it and add a sleeve later for hanging in my sewing space.

And I like it quite a lot. And it's done. And it has been hung in the church.

After I finished mine and could relax a bit, I pulled out all my previous pieces. That was another meditation for me. 

With one exception, my pieces are quilts. One is a watercolor painting. It was a good challenge to make but not as much fun as working with fabric.

Most of the other artists use paints - oil, acrylic, pastel. And some add 3-dimensional pieces. But mine are soft and can be rolled for storing. Typically I have sewn them to a canvas that is painted a dark solid color. That tends to destroy the canvas over time. We'll see how I like hook-and-loop tape over time.

Here is a link to the document about all Stations of the Cross for this year. 

And now for a little palate cleanser:

Vestments - One more new stole

This one is for my petite deacon friend. Deacons in the Episcopal Church are directed by the Bishop who manages multiple churches or parishes. Deacons are sent to a church for a few years and then sent to another church. Their assignments are very unlike those of priests who are selected by the parishioners. 

Often they are unpaid. Ours is unpaid. Another deacon friend is quick to remind that deacons are not required to work for free. But, in my experience, they do. So it is a real commitment, often accompanied by a paid *day job,* to keep the family afloat.

A bias tube from the blue wool creates a way to connect the two halves of the stole at the deacon's hip.

When a deacon arrives at a new church, she (or he) may have her own vestments, but given that abysmal pay situation, they typically rely on the vestments on hand at the assigned church. Those vestments have to serve a variety of shapes and sizes over the years. So a very petite deacon faces a challenge.

Our stoles dragged on the ground. Initially I tried to take them up for her. But I decided that this was more difficult than making her one to keep. It is not easy to make such a fine piece convertible from one size to another. And our next deacon may be 6 foot 6!

She already had her own stole for *ordinary* times, a green one worn for most of the liturgical year, as well as a white one for special holidays like Christmas, Easter and baptisms. I offered to make her one for advent, traditionally a beautiful clear blue worn during the month of December.

The easy part was the pattern. I just traced one of her existing stoles onto pattern tissue and added seam allowances. There were 3 challenges for me: finding the right fabric in the right color, creating the motif(s) on the stole, and matching fringe at the bottom.

Gail K in Atlanta is my go-to store for most planned projects. I imagined I could find some beautiful blue silk to use, maybe dupioni. Of course they had a zillion silks in shades of blue but nothing in a clear true blue.

I found a very expensive wool fabric in the perfect shade. I kept circling the store avoiding it until finally, I picked it up and took it to the cutting table. After all, I only needed a yard. The guy cutting it loudly called out the price TWICE before he cut into it. I know, I know. As I think about it though, the fine silk brocade and embroidered fabrics I've used in years past for church vestments were way more expensive.

With beautiful blue fabric in hand, I was ready to design, my favorite part. There was just one request. The dove is a very important symbol to her. There is one on her white stole and she wanted another on the blue one, if possible. 

finished applique with embroidered leaves.

I fretted about the dove a bit. The one on her white stole looks like a professional embroidery system produced it. But I did not want to farm out this part of the project, and did not know where to do so anyway. I wanted a way to create an applique using off-white silk shantung.

First I spent some time sketching doves until I was satisfied with two simple shapes to reproduce in fabric. I am enamored of the kind of sketching that simplifies realistic sketches until they just barely communicate the item depicted. Picasso was a master at this kind of abstraction or simplification.

Sewing friends suggested a variety of techniques for the dove applique. I've done a fair amount of needle-turn applique in quilt cottons, but I was not up to needle-turn applique with my silk shantung. I knew it would never make me happy.

One possibility was to apply fusible web to the back of the white silk, cut out the dove, and use my machine to stitch around it with a satin stitch. But I've never enjoyed working with that fusible stuff. The result can be lovely but the process has no lure to me.

Another possible technique was to use a light weight fusible interfacing, sewing it right-sides-together on the dove shapes. Then a small hole is cut in the interfacing and it is turned right-side-out so that the glue ends up inside the dove pieces. Then it is pressed to hold the edges down. This was a failure for me. The interfacing fell apart as I struggled to neatly turn and press the edges.

Next I tried the same technique with cotton batiste backing. After a few tries, this worked! I used a smaller stitch-length (2.0), trimmed the seams allowances to 1/8 inch, and used lots of steam when turning it right-side-out.

Then I realized that my dove was facing backwards, or it seemed so to me. Flipping it proved to be more challenging that I imagined, so I have a couple of backwards doves now in stash!

My next challenge was fringe. Where, oh where, would I ever find matching fringe? And then I realized that I could make my own with the blue wool. Really, duh.

I did learn that fringing the wool produced very different looks depending on whether the weft or the warp was removed. I cannot say which one actually worked but I knew it when I saw it!

I constructed this stole quite differently from the previous one I made. The outer fabric is the blue wool and the lining is a lighter blue rayon lining. I sewed one long edge of the wool to the lining fabric. Then I used a stiff cotton canvas to interface it, sewing it inside the long seam allowance. 

Next I pressed the other long seam allowance down and hand-stitched the canvas to it. Lastly, I hand-stitched the lining to the wool. I was once again amazed by how much control you have with hand-stitching. And it was a time to spend thinking about my deacon friend and her calling. A very sweet time, indeed.

I hand stitched the fringe to each end and pressed it carefully. Then I invisibly stitched the dove parts to the stole, as well as a small cross to the shoulder. Joy, for me. And isn't she lovely?

1937

In 1937, Roosevelt was sworn in for a second term. Amelia Earhart disappeared in her attempt to become the first woman to fly around the world. And Zora Neale Hurston published her novel Their Eyes Were Watching God. 

Unknown women all over the country were making quilts to keep their families warm during the depression. I have one from my namesake, a frail Sun Bonnet Sue quilt. My father's Aunt Mattie gave it to me when I met her once in the late 50s or early 60s. In one corner, there is a simple embroidery that reads 1937.

A number of years ago, maybe 10, a friend in my book club was downsizing and brought in several old quilts to give to anyone who would have them. She had no idea who made them, but someone in her husband's family, probably. 

The Poppy quilt came home with me. It was frayed around the edges like mice had gotten into it. The binding was sheer in most places, missing in others. And there were stains, of course. 

With four large applique designs arranged symmetrically along the axes of the quilt, the colors seemed bright, though not the original colors. The applique work was lovely, accented with French knots and other embroidery stitches. I now know that it was made entirely by hand. Even the binding was applied completely by hand. The quilting outlined the applique and, in between, she used diagonal lines to create a kind of lattice work.

I've washed it a number of times and worked on the stains without any success. I purchased some orange-red Kona cotton that I could have used to repair, or replace the binding. I hung it on a bedroom wall for a while. I put it on the guest bed for a while. And then I folded it up and put it away again.

When someone in my Fiber Art Fusion group asked for a class on making quilted jackets, I decided to make the leap and cut into this quilt. And I've convinced myself it was the right thing to do. In fact, I really love the jacket. 

The Tamarack jacket from Grainline Studio is very popular and a perfect silhouette for transforming an old quilt. With only 3 main pattern pieces - front, back and sleeve - it could not be simpler and still be pretty, IMO. The pattern includes pieces for welt pockets, as well as instructions for quilting the pieces as you go along.

I spent quite a lot of time deciding how to position the pattern pieces, wanting to avoid stains, yet show off the beautiful workmanship effectively. I placed one large applique motif down the front, but off-center in order to extend the design into the shoulder. Another large applique was placed on the back along the fold line. I was able to connect the two at the side seams.

There were 2 major motifs remaining. I placed one along a sleeve and left the second sleeve mostly white, a place to rest the eyes in this busy design.

The yard of Kona cotton worked out great for bias binding along the edges, as well as Hong Kong finishes to the interior raw edges. I have enough left over to create little appliques to cover the remaining stains, if they bother me. So far, they don't.

The side seams were a bit challenging. The instructions are non-existent vague on that juncture where the hem binding and the side seams meet. My hems are covered with 1/2 inch binding, and most interior seams have the HK finish. All seam allowances are 1/2". I chose to press the seams to the back, as instructed, and then graded them a bit. Then I applied a quasi-HK finish to the one exposed edge. Unlike standard HK finishing, I hand-stitched mine to the back of the garment. It is still a wee bit lumpy there.

While cutting it out, I noticed that there was one small *signature* on the corner, much like the one on my great-aunt's quilt. That corner became an interior pocket with new binding. I may add some embroidery here clarifying that the quilt was made in 1937 and the jacket in 2021. 

Honestly I became a little emotional as I added the pocket. I could not help wondering about the woman (or women) who made this beautiful quilt. What were their hopes when they gifted it to my friend or to someone else in her husband's family? And how many hours of loving stitching did they invest?

I have convinced myself - and please don't dissuade me - that this jacket honors the maker, whoever she was, whatever her story. I will think of her each time I wear it. I love it.

Vestments - a new stole

In the Episcopal church, priests and other clergy wear vestments. Vestments also adorn the lectern and the altar, and sometimes other places in the main worship area, the nave. These are heavy in symbolism and can be ornate or quite simple.  

Over the years, in various churches, I've made vestments. Some were made with the most exquisite, expensive silk brocades I've ever cut into and others were made with easily available materials, most often silk or wool.

Recently my priest asked me to make a new priest's stole for the church. I am not sure how old the existing stole is but it's very worn and not worth repair at this point. This does not show up in the pictures I have.

the old stole

A stole is a shaped scarf of sorts that is worn around the neck of the priest and drapes to about calf length. It should be quite simple to make, right? I took the old one home to trace onto pattern tissue.

The old one has an interesting back neckline, with a cord inserted on the longer side of the stole to hold it away from the neck. I have no idea if this has meaning or is just a way to keep it away from the body. It looks odd to me. 

I justified omitting this detail after finding many examples online without it. All the previous stoles I've made were made without this detail. This means that the stole fits snugly to the neck. Other garments are worn next under it, so I'm not terribly worried about this.

Of course, it will be easy to add the cord if my priest wants it. He is easy going and I doubt he'll care one way or the other.

Naturally I made the construction more difficult than necessary. This is entirely my fault, as I took my usual approach to sewing. I just jumped in, making design decisions on the fly.

the new stole

I'm lucky to have quite a nice stash of silks from other projects, remnants from clothes as well as previous sewing for my church. This particular stole must be green. The episcopal church follows a seasonal color scheme in its use of textiles with green the most frequently used color. It is referenced as "ordinary times." Generally this green is almost a clear almost-apple green and I always have trouble finding it. Greens can be quite tricky. There are so many different hues of green and they follow popular trends in other textiles. For a while, only olive greens were available, for example. 

I used a variety of green silks in the hopes of avoiding a clash by creating a blended effect. The original stole (and coordinating vestments) included shades of purple too, so I added two shades of purple as well. I'm in high hopes this works!

The process was interesting and actually quite centering for me. I especially enjoyed the design process and my priest gave me total freedom. I also enjoyed adding a little embellishment. 

a little embroidery separating these pieces

Our church organizes much activity around four words: welcome, love, nurture and feed. So I enjoyed adding those on the back side.

Traditionally the stole has a visible cross on the back neck. I think these are often machine embroidered. After making a few samples, I appliqued a gold silk cross (two bias tubes) and added some silk threads to the center. Ok, ok, I made samples after messing up on the finished stole first!

But now I want to make a chasuble to match it. The chasuble is the outer poncho-like garment worn over the stole. The existing one looks quite shabby next to the new stole.

Hmmm...this may be a continuing project.