I recently treated myself to a copy of the catalog from the Museum of Arts and Design’s 2007 exhibition “Pricked: extreme embroidery“. As is to be expected, the show is thought-provoking, engaging and, as noted by former Museum of Arts and Design director Holly Hotchner, “celebrates the work of the artist’s hand in the twenty-first century”.

“Pricked” represented international artists of both genders whose art not only pushes forward into new realms via concept and unexpected materials, but which references the traditional in unexpected ways. The exhibition was so popular that it was extended an additional 7 weeks.

“Death of Blinded Philosopher” (2006), embroidery on silk shantung, by Angelo Filomeno                                          Photo Credit: Michael Bodycomb

It’s well worth noting the remarks of David Revere McFadden (Chief Curator, Museum of Arts and Design at the time of the show) that it “is not by any measure an exhibition about embroidery, but rather an exhibition of contemporary art made by artists that use embroidery as a medium to communicate their ideas and visions”.

I have been thinking lately about the fact that regardless of whether for utilitarian purposes or as a means of artistic expression, the use of needle and thread is a discipline that crosses many boundaries: historic, economic, geographic and cultural. Recently that fact hit home on a more personal level.

Our family has a treasured sampler that has made its way down through the generations to one of my cousins. It was made by my great, great, great grandmother at the age of 12 in 1806. It’s an object that was respected, but in recent times I don’t think much was thought or known about it beyond being something of another era.

Pamelia was originally from Massachusetts and my father, who is deep in genealogical research surrounding the life of her husband, couldn’t figure out why she was in Portland, Maine where she made this sampler at such a young age, and how she happened to meet her eventual husband, the subject of my father’s research.

Pamelia circa 1870’s

Interestingly, I recently received a group email from my SAQA regional rep that included a link to a video about an exhibition at the Saco Museum, “I My Needle Ply With Skill”, that showcases Maine schoolgirl needlework from the Federal era. That led to further information that allowed my father to ferret out why Pamelia was in Maine (another story), and also the fact that she attended the same needlework school in Portland as my great, great, great grandfather’s sister. This is undoubtedly how the two met – and perhaps one of the reasons that this sampler was cherished and so well-preserved to be passed down in such beautiful condition.

I’m proud to see the way that Pamelia’s work was honored by the elegant frame that surrounds it. And I can’t help but be reminded that needlework has become central to my art-making. It’s cause for celebration that “hand-work” has expanded beyond the sphere of the relatively limited education accessible to girls of 200 years ago, to become a valid contemporary art form, recognized through an exhibition at in one of our most important museums.

Lifeline, detail      ©1994 Elizabeth Fram

And I find it uplifting to remember that we are connected via the things we make — even across time and place.