How Long Does It Take to Make a Quilt?

       When people find out that I’m a quilter, they are always curious about how long it takes me to make a quilt. I hesitate because don’t have a quick, definitive answer.

There are a lot of variables: size, complexity, if there’s a deadline or an open timeline, broken sewing machines, frustration, laziness, you get the picture. 
       Part of it depends on the size of the quilt. I’ve made a wall hanging (about 45” square) in a weekend. If you count a mug rug (about the size of a piece of notebook paper), I can put that together in a under an hour. The most recent quilt that I put the last stitch in, holds the all-time record of the longest time I’ve ever spent making a quilt.

       My new year’s resolution for 2018 was to finish up some of the quilts that I started, but haven’t completed. My plan was to finish one per month. It’s April and I just completed my third quilt.

       This quilt wasn’t even in my stack of UFOs (UnFinished Objects), but in the wee hours of a night of insomnia when my mind was reviewing a million things, I remembered these particular quilt blocks. I thought it would be quick to whip into an actual quilt that would tie up some loose ends as well as help me catch up to my one quilt a month goal.

       Years ago, I hand stitched several Hawaiian quilt blocks that were intended to be pillow covers. They would be great practice before making a bed sized Hawaiian quilt. These blocks were my first attempts at quilting. I enjoyed making them, but thought how many pillows did I really need? Instead, I would combine them into a quilt.

       Here I was, many, many years later and I’d forgotten how many I'd made. I’d also moved several times since I started stitching them and had forgotten where I stored them in this house. After a few days of digging through the logical places where they should be, I found them in an illogical place, under my long arm machine. 
       I had completed five on white backgrounds: Monstera leaf was dark green, 

               Ulu (or breadfruit) was a pale yellow, 

                              Red Ginger was red, 

                              Orchid was purple,

                             and Hibiscus was red. 

I needed a sixth block to make a quilt three blocks across and two blocks down.

       In totally unrelated news, the deadline to file taxes was looming, so March 18^th was the perfect time to ignore the taxes and start a hand quilting project. 
       In my quest to find the blocks, I’d also found my Hawaiian quilting books, so I thumbed through them looking for my next block: Na Lani Pule (Heavens Prayers). I went to the fabric store and chose a solid deep turquoise Kona cotton for this block.

These blocks are "on point."

       Tucked into the back of one of my Hawaiian quilting books was a sketch on graph paper of my original plan—a grid of blocks, three across and four down. I also recalled thinking about setting them on point. I obviously didn't have time to make seven more blocks. It was time for a revised plan.

Hawaiian Quilt Plan A.

       On April 10th the Na Lani Pule block was complete. I admired it, but not for long. I got down to business on our taxes. After I sent them in, it was back to the Hawaiian quilt blocks up on my design wall.

Na Lani Pule

       I shuffled them around. I didn’t like that there were two red blocks. They were overpowering. The yellow ulu block was too pale. What was I thinking when I chose that lemon yellow? There was barely any contrast.

     I kicked out the red hibiscus. I thought about kicking out the yellow ulu, but it was the second block I’d ever made and Hawaiian quilting tradition says that it should be the first block you make to ensure that you make many more quilts.

       Then I measured the blocks. They varied in size from 19-1/2” squares to the brand new turquoise block that was 17-1/2” square. Why hadn’t I followed my "note to self" to enlarge the pattern by 15% before I started procrastination quilting? I kicked out Na Lani Pule too. It would become a pillow cover along with the red hibiscus block.

  
     There would be four blocks in this quilt, stacked, not on point. It would be a wall hanging. It was a little tricky since the blocks were already quilted. I carefully trimmed them each down to a uniform 18-1/2” square. Then I chose a deep blue cotton like the color of the Pacific Ocean between the Hawaiian Islands for the joining strips.

       As I worked, I tried to recall when I started this project. We were living in Hawaii, renting the bottom floor of a house in Manoa. Although both of my grandmothers made Hawaiian quilts, they weren’t making them when I was around. I should have, but didn’t think to ask them for advice.

       Not only did I “inherit” my love of sewing from my grandmothers, I inherited a complete full size Hawaiian quilt and a partially completed Hawaiian quilt top from Grandma Louise Ralston Keolanui. My auntie also gave me all of her mother's Hawaiian quilt patterns that she had designed herself.

Grandma Keolanui, cousin Jane, Auntie Lani and cousin Judy
with the Queen's Comb quilt that Grandma made.

 

Grandma Ellis holding great grandson Johnny Stark.

From my other grandmother, Grandma Harriet Dwight Ellis, I inherited her in-progress Hawaiian quilt blocks and a sizable fabric and yarn stash.

       When my sister passed away, she and her husband gave me a Hawaiian quilt top from Grandma Keolanui that Cynthia had been working on along with her own fabric stash and what she’d gotten from our grandmothers. The huge size of my stash isn’t surprising. It’s genetic!

       When I’m in Hawaii and drive through the intersection of University Avenue and King Street in Moiliili, I still remember the seemingly endless hours that my sister, brother, cousins, and I spent in Kuni’s Dry Goods store with my Mom, Grandmother, and Aunties while they pored over sewing pattern books and then shopped for fabric.

 If we were good, they’d treat us to crack seed [Chinese preserved plums] scooped out of giant glass jars from the tiny store across the parking lot.

       Instead of asking my grandmothers for quilting lessons, or at least for some tips when I started my first quilt, I relied on the instructions in a kit purchased at Liberty House, a department store that was later bought out by Macy’s.

       The deep green fabric with the Monstera Leaf pattern appealed to me back then. It still does. When I flipped that finished Monstera Leaf block over and looked at the stitching, I shook my head and then snickered a little. There are huge knots all over the back. Back then I knotted my thread by wrapping the thread around my index finger and then rolling it off the end and tugging.

Huge beginner's knots

       Now I make a quilter’s knot by wrapping the thread around the tip of my needle and then sliding it down to the end. It’s a much smaller knot which makes it easier to pop through a layer of fabric, to bury the knot in the batting. The stitches on the front of that block look OK, but they are not even in size. On the back they’re much longer than on the front. It was a good thing I matched my thread color to the forest green of the leaf. My uneven beginner quilt stiches don’t show much.

       On the Ulu block, my second Hawaiian quilt block, the knots on the back still look like tiny beach balls, but the stitching is more even. A darker yellow would've been a better color choice, but I was still a beginner. 
       By the time I stitched the orchid block, in 2002 the quality of my quilting was much improved. I had actually been to two classes to learn how to hand applique and hand quilt. I had also watched Diedra McElroy’s video of That Perfect Stitch and practiced along with her.

Stitching on the back of the orchid block.

 
       Some people would have hidden those weird knots and uneven stitches under another layer of fabric, but I appreciate seeing my progress as a quilter. It tells a story.
       Those first quilt blocks look good together. I'm glad they aren't stowed away in a plastic bin anymore, hidden from view. 

Red hibiscus and Na Lani Pule blocks
 made into pillow covers.

       

Quilt label

Backs of the Hawaiian quilt pillows
made with fabrics from my sister Cynthia's stash.

If my first quilting attempts were a bit surprising, so was the realization that my long held claim that I started quilting in 1999 is wrong. That is when I started machine quilting. But I actually started quilting by hand, and my best guess is that I picked up a quilting needle in 1983. That means this quilt took me 35 years to make! I don’t think I’ll mention that number the next time someone asks me how long it takes to make a quilt.

Laura Keolanui Stark is starting her next “quilt of the month” tomorrow. She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.

Quilts: Art or Craft?

          Sometimes people are paying attention when you think they aren’t. On Saturday mornings, I try to squeeze in watching the quilting/sewing shows on KBTC-Channel 12, PBS. www.kbtc.org They air from 8:30 in the morning until 1:00 in the afternoon, so my viewing depends on if I’ve got errands to run, or what the football schedule is. I’ve been tuning in long enough that my family almost considers the on-air quilting ladies as friends who drop in on Saturday mornings. They walk through the family room, glance at the TV, and say things like, “Is this the one who taught Special Ed. before she became a famous quilter?” (Eleanor Burns) as they continue going on their way.  

Recently, KBTC has added a new documentary to the end of the Saturday lineup: Why Quilts Matter: History, Art, and Politics www.whyquiltsmatter.org. It posed a question that led to a surprising discussion and more questions in our family room: What is art? Are quilts art or craft? Those questions were running through my mind as the experts weighed in.

One of the art quilters seemed insulted at a common response she gets when she tells people that she’s a quilter. They tell her that their grandmother made quilts. She retorts, “These are NOT your grandmother’s quilts.”  

This one IS my grandmother's quilt!

I looked at my grandmother’s Hawaiian quilt hanging on the wall and thought, “Wow! I aspire to being able make quilts like the ones that both of my grandmothers made.” Maybe her grandmother wasn’t a very good quilter. Or, maybe the person sharing that their grandmother was a quilter didn’t seem very impressed with their grandmother. Who knows?

Other people on the show talked about the fact that once you took the quilt off the bed and hung it on a wall, especially of a museum, it was recognized as art. It had moved from being something utilitarian to keep people warm, to being something precious that should no longer be used, but admired instead. That was a valid point.

I have sewn a sleeve on every quilt I’ve ever made, no matter what size, so that it can top a bed, be snuggled under as a lap quilt, or hung on a wall. I’ve probably made more quilts as wall hangings, than bed coverings. They’re faster to make, and I have four places in my house to hang quilts. Several times when I’ve shown these wall hangings to non-quilters, they’ve said, “Well, that’s not a quilt. It’s not big enough for a bed.”

Does that automatically make it art? When it’s hanging, it is being used as art, but most of my wall hangings are made up of traditional quilt blocks. 

I think of “art quilts” as being landscape quilts, or abstract quilts with lots of embellishment, more like paintings. I’ve made a few quilts that fit that description, but I don’t consider myself artistic enough to be an “art quilter.”

The show moved on to talk about the quilts of Gee’s Bend, Alabama. “The town’s women developed a distinctive, bold, and sophisticated quilting style based on traditional American (and African American) quilts, but with a geometric simplicity reminiscent of Amish quilts and modern art. The women of Gee’s Bend passed their skills and aesthetic down through at least six generations to the present. In 2002, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston presented an exhibition of seventy quilt masterpieces from the Bend.

 The Quilts of Gee’s Bend exhibition has received tremendous international acclaim . . .on its twelve-city American tour. Newsweek, National Public Radio’s Talk of the Nation, Art in America, CBS News Sunday Morning, PBS’s NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, the Martha Stewart Living television show, House and Garden, Oprah’s O magazine, and Country Home magazine are among the hundreds of print and broadcast media organizations that have celebrated the quilts and the history of this unique town. Art critics worldwide have compared the quilts to the works of important artists such as Henri Matisse and Paul Klee. The New York Times called the quilts ‘some of the most miraculous works of modern art America has produced.’" (The Quilts of Gee’s Bend™ Quilter’s Collective History.)

I was lucky enough to see these quilts when the exhibition traveled to the Tacoma Art Museum. The Gee’s Bend quilters break many of the “rules” of quilting. These women didn’t run down to their local quilt store to buy enough new cotton fabric to fit a recipe for a quilt. They used materials they had on hand. Some of the fabrics used were from polyester pant suits.  Pieces weren’t cut straight. Blocks within the quilts and borders aren’t squared off. 

They had a free flowing “plan” as they pieced their quilts. They wouldn’t have earned anything more than a participation ribbon at a county fair.

Images of the Gee’s Bend quilts flashed on the TV screen in our family room, and suddenly Johnny who’d stopped to sit down and put his shoes on said, “Didn’t they have rulers? Nothing’s straight.”

The Quilts of Gee's Bend.

John looked up from his laptop, “I don’t like them.”

Was this a “hey, the emperor is naked” moment?

I pointed out that the quilts are very graphic in a modernistic style. I preferred the ones that are just two colors. They are striking.

The show commentators debated again: art or craft?

Johnny wasted no time choosing a side. Gee’s Bend quilts were a craft. Part of his argument was that art is created intentionally. He felt that these quilters weren’t purposefully trying to make a statement. Yes, they looked modernistic, but it was an accident.

He is a music composer, so he has learned to view art through a composer’s eyes (and ears). He asked, “If the cat jumps up on the piano keys, is he a composer? It sounds like some modern music. Did the cat intend to make music?”

John added, “I wouldn’t hang them in my house. They look very primitive.”

I countered, “OK, but there’s lots of art I wouldn’t hang in my house. It’s still art.” And to Johnny, “Those quilters intentionally chose to put each of those pieces of colored fabric right where they are. They aren’t randomly placed.”

I had also thought of that old saying that you need to master the rules before you can break them. Did they know the rules? Were they purposely breaking the rules, or were they just not that great at quilting?

In the end, I didn’t turn either Johnny or John into fans of Gee’s Bend quilts. To tell the truth they aren’t my favorite quilts either, but I do think they are art as well as a craft too.

Quilting is very much like cooking.  There are cooks and chefs. The cooks can open their refrigerator and pantry and throw a tasty dinner together with what’s at hand.  They are practical, make it up as they go, on the fly, and don’t mind surprises. They are direct and want to put food in your belly.

The gourmet chefs spend time gathering just the right ingredients, carefully chopping, and sautéing, planning and striving for a sublime combination of flavors. They have a very specific idea of how they want their dish to turn out. They want what they create to be memorable as well as something to satisfy your hunger.

Cook or chef? Quilt crafter or art quilter? I appreciate both ends of the spectrum. Most of the time I’m a cook and a crafty quilter, but every once in awhile I create a dish or quilt that is art---  sometimes intentionally, sometimes accidentally.

Laura Keolanui Stark has solved her quilter’s identity crisis by calling herself simply a quilter. She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.

Grandma's Hawaiian Quilt

          Near the end of August, I went to the Pacific West Quilt Show in Tacoma with my friends Carol and Margie. The quilts in the show were stunning. We couldn’t believe the level of artistry and the quilts that didn’t get ribbons. As we strolled along admiring hundreds of quilts, we went from being amazed, to inspired, to humbled, and then discouraged about our quilting skills. 

         After the show, I leafed through the show pamphlet and saw that there were quilt appraisers there. I decided to go back the next day to have a quilt appraised.

         My grandmother made the red and white Hawaiian quilt in the 1930s or 40s for my Aunty Lorna her youngest child. A few years ago, Aunty Lorna passed it on to me.

         I parked a few blocks away from the Tacoma Convention Center and walked in carrying the precious quilt folded up in a pillow case. When I got to the ticket desk, the lady asked me if I had an appointment. I didn’t. I’d pictured a line of people holding quilts and waiting like on “Antique Roadshow.” An appointment made a lot more sense.

 She walked me back anyway, and asked the appraiser if she could fit me in. Luckily, she had an open time slot right then.              

There were two appraisers. One was supposed to go on her lunch break, but when she heard that I had a Hawaiian quilt, she said she’d wait because she rarely got to see a Hawaiian quilt.

          When I spread the red and white beauty out on the table, their faces lit up. They couldn’t resist gently touching it.

          The appraiser asked me lots of questions, many that I couldn’t answer.  I couldn’t tell her the name of the pattern, but I could tell her that my grandmother created it herself, and that my grandmother was Hawaiian. I didn’t know what year the quilt was made, but estimated that it was in the 1930s or early 40s.

I didn’t mention this to the appraiser, but I also don’t know how my grandmother did it. She hand stitched a full/queen sized quilt for each of her five children. She passed away in 1995, so I couldn’t ask Grandma for the answers to all these questions.

         While I was talking to the appraiser, quilters were drawn from all over the show and even from the outer concourse toward the quilt. At least twenty women came over to admire it. My grandmother would have been very pleased—bashful about the attention, but pleased.

         My father’s mother was a quiet lady. When I get shy, I know who that came from. She loved to quilt, and I obviously got some of that from her too. I also think that some of my love of writing came from her. While I moved all over the world as an Army brat, Grandma Keolanui was my pen pal.  I was always so happy to spot an envelope for me with her handwriting on it.

         The appraisal wrapped up. She had taken pictures of the quilt, and written down the information I gave her. She would mail the official appraisal to me after she did some research.

Next door to the appraiser, was a woman who specializes in quilt restoration.  She advised me not to replace the binding on the quilt. She also approved of my storing it in a pillow case, and said that it would be all right for me to add a sleeve to the back, so that I could hang the quilt up for display in my house occasionally. I will also add a label to the back of the quilt with my grandmother’s name, and an estimated date of when it was made, once I figure out what the name of the quilt is.

         I walked back to my car hugging that quilt a little tighter, and trying to look nonchalant, as if I wasn’t carrying something so special.

         At home, I emailed Aunty Lorna on Facebook to ask her if she knew the name of the quilt. My guess was red ginger. She said that she thought grandma told her it was “The Queen’s Comb,” but she could never see the comb. I spread the quilt out on my bed. I couldn’t see the comb either.

         Then Aunty Lorna posted a picture of her older sister, Lani with her daughters and Grandma holding up a red and white Hawaiian quilt named “The Queen’s Comb.” I did a double take. The quilt they were holding wasn’t the quilt I had.

 It was time for some detective work.  Aunty Lorna also had also given me Grandma’s patterns when she gave me the quilt. I got the box out. Right there on top, was a letter from Aunty Lorna passing on a letter that Grandma had written to her about her quilting days. I got that same happy feeling when I saw Grandma’s familiar handwriting.

I unfolded the letter dated Nov. 6, 1983. Grandma gave detailed illustrated descriptions of how grandpa built a frame of two 2 x 4’s on sawhorses for her quilting. She also included instructions, and drawings about how to roll the quilt up as it was quilted.

She gave me clues to another mystery. Years before Aunty Lorna gave me the red and white quilt, she gave me a partially complete quilt top. I finished appliquéing lavender onto a white background. In the letter, Grandma says, “the Lavender and white is the Orchid? . . . Maybe it’s not the Orchid but a Kauai pattern.” Kauai is the Orchid island. I’ll compare it to her patterns.

She then explained how to match it to the pattern, “So, please look at one corner of the quilt (which is the pattern).”

As if that wasn’t enough valuable information, she identified the red and white quilt top that she gave to my sister to complete. I had forgotten all about that one. I need to call her and see how far she’s gotten.   

But the best part was that Grandma also solved the mystery of the quilt I took to the appraiser, “The completed red and white one is the Leilehua.”

It touched my heart to hear from Grandma again. She answered all my questions and shared her quilting world with me. Mahalo (thank you) Grandma! 

And mahalo to you too Aunty Lorna for keeping me connected to grandma. Like you said, "I really like it when the ESPn is working!"

Laura Keolanui Stark is carefully sorting out grandma’s patterns. She can be reached at lkstark@gmail.com.        

Hawaiian Quilt Quest

It’s not really an obsession because it’s not a separate thing. It’s woven right into the fabric of my life. Whenever, and wherever I travel, my quilt GPS is working. My eyes scan new horizons for any signs of quilt shops, quilt museums, or fabric stores. If you read my last blog, you know that I’ve also sucked my family members into my endless quest for all things quilty.

               There I was, in Hawaii, to help my mother recover from heart surgery. I’d brought a Hawaiian quilt wall hanging in my carry-on bag to work on. It’s a wedding present for my sister and her husband. They were married in December 2006. I’m just a little behind.

Breadfruit wall hanging in progress

               While I worked on their breadfruit quilt, and convinced Cynthia and Bruce that it really did exist, I started to crave seeing some actual, completed Hawaiian quilts. After all, I was in Hawaii!

I knew that the Wilcox Hawaiian Quilt Collection is the biggest collection of Hawaiian quilts in the world, but it's at the Kauai Museum,(kauaimuseum.org) on the island of Kauai. (I can’t believe I lived on Kauai for three years, but never saw those quilts because I wasn’t a quilter then). My husband, John, and my parents told me they’d seen some beautiful Hawaiian quilts at the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel—on the Big Island of Hawaii. A neighbor island junket to see quilts was out of the question. I was there to help mom.

I seemed to remember a quilt display at The Mission Houses next to Kawaihao Church when we lived on Oahu twenty-something years ago. I surfed online (missionhouses.org) to see if they had a Hawaiian quilt exhibition, and was disappointed that there was only a virtual tour of the quilts. It was an appetizer, but didn’t satisfy my craving. I needed to visit some "live" Hawaiian quilts in person.

I quizzed my parents to see if they knew of any Hawaiian quilt exhibits. They mentioned the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel, and asked if I’d seen any at the Bishop Museum last spring. Then in a light bulb moment, my father said that he knew where there were two beautiful Hawaiian quilts on display.

          He had gone to visit an elderly relative at his condo, and remembered a Hawaiian quilt in the lobby. He promised to swing by there the next time we were in downtown Honolulu.

A few days later, we parked outside the Kukui Plaza Condominium Complex. Dad told me the name of the relative, so that in case the security guard asked what I was doing there, I’d have a more legitimate answer than “snooping around for a glimpse of a Hawaiian quilt.”

I opened the lobby doors, and it was like opening an unexpected gift! A forest green appliqué quilt took my breath away! The pattern design was intricate. The symmetry was exquisite, and the lei around the entire quilt added the perfect finishing touch.

It was one of the biggest quilts I’ve ever seen. Softly lit, it was framed in koa: a rich, deep brown, highly prized wood native to Hawaii. The genius in charge of displaying it had the brilliant idea of making the opposite wall a solid mirror, so it was as if there were twin quilts facing each other.

Hawaiian quilt in the Waikiki side lobby of Kukui Plaza, Honolulu, Hawaii.

I took my camera out and snapped some photos. I was so taken by the quilt, I hadn’t noticed the security guard sitting behind his desk. When I looked over sheepishly, he smiled. I could tell that he appreciated me appreciating the quilt.

I asked if he knew who quilted it and what the name of the quilt was. He told me that he didn’t know anything about it, and added that he’d talked to the condo management about that. We agreed that it needed a label. A quilt that spectacular, deserved to have its maker acknowledged, its story told.

Then he mentioned that there was another quilt at the other entrance to the condo. I asked if I could walk through to see it. He shook his head no, but in a kind of verbal wink, told me what street the other entrance was on. I thanked him, then floated out to my parents’ van, and thanked them too.

I told my father that we needed to drive around the block to the other entrance. I hoped the security guard on the other side would be as friendly, or at least look the other way. He did. I took pictures of the sister quilt. It seemed to me that both quilts were stitched by the same quilter. This one was also striking, and not labeled either.

Hawaiian quilt in the Ewa side lobby of Kukui Plaza, Honolulu, Hawaii.

A few days later, I asked my parents to take me back to Kukui Plaza. I was getting close to the border on my sister’s quilt, and I wanted to see how the mystery quilter handled the border on her quilts. Did she continue the echo stitching from the center appliqué, or stop and echo the border?

               This time I forced my mother out of the van to see Quilt #1 by telling her it was less than thirty steps away. I wanted to see if she agreed with my opinion that the flowers in the pattern were orchids. She was also impressed with the quilt’s beauty. She agreed that the flowers were orchids, and she should know because she has 30-50 orchid plants that she grows in her back yard.

Cattleya orchid

               Mom didn’t see the second quilt, but I know that the heart-shaped flowers are anthuriums. 

Red anthuriums.

              There’s also red ginger, possibly white ginger, and possibly crown flowers in this quilt. 

Red ginger

White ginger

Crown flower

             It would smell sweet and tropical if they were real flowers, instead of quilted ones. If only quilts could talk; I have so many questions. Despite their elegant silence, my Hawaiian quilt craving was satisfied with the pleasure of seeing these two quilt gems. And now you too can take in their beauty without having to fly to Hawaii, and talk your way past the security guards. Aloha!

Laura Keolanui Stark is always on the lookout for all things quilty. She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.