Image description 1:
Overhead view of Mend To Reconstruct, a small quilt made out of beads, unframed, laying on a colourful, multi patterned fabric quilt.
The art piece is a beaded version of a gingham quilt in high contrast of transparent white, metallic brown, and opaque black. A rainbow gradient of patches of “mending” are beaded across the piece. The colourful “mending” beads are primarily small with some larger round and unique shaped beads included. The purple side of the colours are on the left of the image, the red and white beaded sides on the right.
In response to the DAAA interview with activist Regan Shrumm, I created a flatstitch beadwork “quilt” titled Mend to Reconstruct. Starting in 2022 and finishing in early 2023, it was created with assorted glass beads, nylon thread, polyester fabric, beeswax, and a shadowbox frame. It took about 119 hours of effort and a whole lot of unexpected life events.
In reading the project interviewees’ initial profiles, the line, “Much of Regan’s own arts practice is reserved for themself,” spoke to me as I often struggle with feelings of inadequacy and of hesitating to call myself an artist. The process of making art is what I really enjoy as a break from my critical internal monologue. I have rejection sensitive dysphoria that is related to complex PTSD (CPTSD) and neurodivergence - ADHD, depression, anxiety.
I designed a beaded version of a gingham quilt in high contrast of transparent white, metallic brown, and opaque black to mimic the repetition of the status quo of the institutions in which Shrumm has worked. Representing their work in curating social-based art practice, I added patches of “mending” to represent the work done by disabled folks. This burst of lively colour adds vitality while strengthening the overall work.
As a nod to the work that goes on behind the scenes in activist organizing, I have left the back of the work uncovered. My normal practice is to attach moosehide or vinyl fabric backing to finish the work. I was inspired by Regan’s interview, specifically their references to interrogating what access means, and have chosen to let folks interact with the piece by picking it up. They’re able to inspect or feel the back to see/feel each individual stitch, each knot I tied by hand, and several tiny burn marks where I melted the thread to strengthen fraying points. This will allow people to interact with the piece on a tactile level. The work is displayed in a hinged frame/shadowbox so that it is physically accessible to people.
Having people able to handle the work is an important aspect of the piece. It mimics the way most textile quilts exist: There is no right way to display it in terms of physical orientation, but how the piece is presented influences how it is perceived.
The possibility that the work could be permanently changed by repeated handling exists, however this embodies the theme I hope to convey: If one doesn't care for their community (the bare minimum disabled folks are asking), society is going to break down. It takes work to care for your community, so if it is necessary to repair the piece, the repair work would tangibly express this idea.
Someday the gingham quilt might be mended so much that the quilt is completely reconstructed. This is the subversive work I imagine happens when folks working within colonial and/or oppressive systems create something beautiful, functional, and completely unrecognizable from its original form—including those who are transgender and queer.
For Trevana.