DON'T MAKE WAVES

Like many others, I have been shaken by the horror of the Montreal massacre, which seemed to be the culmination of abuse and violence against women.  The picture of a policeman bending over his daughter's body will be seared on my mind forever. 

From my studies in historic costume, I came to realize that women had the odds weighted against them from time immemorial.  Hampered by clothing that stressed their subservience, economics and customs which restrained their freedom, and attitudes which actively suppressed and expression of independence, women have had a long struggle up a slippery ladder.

Part of my research into Victorian costumes involved reading material published specifically for women, of which there was an explosion during this period.  On reason being, that most women (at least in the middle class), had become literate.   One popular type of book was the "advise to young wives".  

However, carefully hidden, usually at the back of these volumes, was the interesting fact that the books were written by male authors!   Their mission in life seemed to be the formation of "ideal women", quiet and submissive, who would become the perfect wives of far-from-ideal men.  The whole genre can be condensed into "Sit down, shut up, and don't make waves!"

So "Don't Makes Waves" became the starting point for a series of fibre works concerning violence and abuse against women.  Poor "Sunbonnet Sue" struggles in a rising sea.  She is far from shore and no help in at hand.  The waves obscure her view of the horizon and she rises and falls with no sense of direction.   Most women have shared her feelings at some time of their lives.

SUE ANONYMOUS

Everyone recognized the old quilter's pattern "Sunbonnet Sue' regardless of whether they have any interest in quilts at all.  I was struck by the fact, that of the hundreds of "Sue" patterns, her face is never seen.   That seemed somehow symbolic.  I began to wonder what the demure little bonnet concealed - was it bruises and blood?

Sue became in my symbol of "Everywoman" she is dressed in a petite chintz patterned dress with a flowered bonnet.  The dainty figure stands against a violent background of purple, red, yellow and green - the colours of half-healed bruises.

At the top left corner, two entwined hearts are quilted.   The heart pattern continues down across the handing, but as they go, the hearts droop and sag out of shape.   Gradually they enclose drops of blood and at the bottom, blood flows and drips off the edges.

The use of a blood-red fabric was deliberate.  Abusers often shower their victims with flowers and assurances that "it will never happen again!"  As the cycle of violence continues, physical abuse becomes entangled with mental abuse

the reverse side is covered with a spiderweb fabric.  Sue is not only trapped, she is held by invisible bonds as thin as a web - the emotions that churn inside her.

DOWN AND DOWN

I think everyone has dreamed of falling endlessly into a void, that stomach-churning sensation of vertigo.  The environment of mental abuse leaves no visible blemish, but the psychological scars have a life-long effect.

From an indistinct grey area, Sue tumbles headfirst into a downward spiral, which becomes darker and darker as she falls.  The quilted spiral shape reinforces her rapid descent and suggests the tornado of emotions she experiences.  The subtle greys imply the insidious effect of mental abuse, from barely recognizable beginnings to the devastating realization of entrapment.  The endless taunts and slurs have as cumulative an effect as tiny endless drops of water eventually become an ocean.

The reverse side is a stormy wave pattern which enforces the churning emotions inside Sue and the spiderweb pattern on the sleeve suggests the entrapment she experiences.

NOW YOU DON'T HAVE ME

"At first you had me in the palm of your hand.  Then you had me in your pocket.  Then you had me under your feet.  Now you don't have me."

Those were the compelling words of a woman who endured ten years of beatings and abuse, whose story was detailed in a newspaper article.  I had been searching for an idea to finish the series of wall hangings depicting violence and abuse directed against women.   That quotation seemed to summarize perfectly the mental journey of a victim who had been able to work through fear and anguish to a new self-confidence.

Gazing through a window in early spring, I realized that the boughs of a tree on the lawn created a silhouette of Sue's bonnet.  The rays of the sum illuminated the stark branches.  I pounced on the idea, it was so appropriate.  The tree, slowly awakening from a long winter, was just beginning to show a few buds sprouting into leaves.   The symbolic of the rebirth and the quotation which had fastened itself tightly in my mind, combined to create the final piece of the series.

After a long period of cold and endurance, the tree looks as if it were dead.  But peering closely we see anticipated signs of revival.  The mossy trunk is ready to sprout new growth.  The twisted bar branches, stark against a winter sunset, form a silhouette of Sue's bonnet.  From one small limb, a few tentative leaves have appeared.

The reverse side of the hanging is covered by a wealth of flowers springing up, just as the dead leaves form the basis for new life.  The sleeve and label have become a sunrise, symbolizing that return.