Macramé Made Hip

Last week, I spent two days at a cabin in Big Bear. It was homey—it was a cabin, after all—and among the forgettable knickknacks of wooden blue jays, “poker room” gambling signs, and rudimentary woven baskets, there was a four-foot high teddy bear dressed in a long flower print gown and white bonnet. It was bizarre and not cuddly at all—even for someone who likes teddy bears (and that is not me). One look under the dress, which was mandatory, revealed the purpose of the oddity: a vacuum cozy. You know, a thing that goes on top of the vacuum when you haven’t a place in the closet to store such unattractive machinery. I’d heard of toilet cozies (because who wants to look at a new roll of toilet paper?), but had never seen the idea taken so far.

For most of us, this bear-thing that is supposed to beautify or hide technology, embodies the knee-jerk imagery that comes to mind when someone mentions handcrafts—knitting, cross-stitch, crocheting, or the butt of every retro joke, macramé. Items that are often sentimental, or in the case of the toilet paper, unnecessary, and are made by little women with too much time on their hands. But while these types of handiwork seem to fill up boutiques, they do not, and should not speak for the crafts artists and their movement. 

Unlike grandma, artists of the Studio Craft movement have been propelling the artistic side of crafts steadily forward since the 1960s. Their passion and mission is to strip stereotypes away from craft, and through elaborate and innovative woodworking, ceramics, glass blowing, and yes—fabric and thread—they’ve proven their point. One look at any mid-century modern catalogue offers the most familiar visuals, perhaps. But there are other crafts artists whose creations are not necessarily functional (like an Eames chair or a Tiffany lamp) and are not merely decorative. This new generation of crafters seeks to comment on and challenge our perceptions—just like other artists. But how do you knit an explosive or clever idea? See curator Maria Elena Buszek’s Raised in Craftivity and you’ll find out.

A wall of Laura Splan’s “Vigilante Series” of circular hook rugs are the premiere visual in the show, and while the 11 shaggy mats of various diameter (up to 30” round) might recall some whimsical thing your sister (like mine) made when you were growing up, be careful where you wipe your feet; these rugs, filled with brightly-colored rods and circles are actually petri dishes, each one filled with cells that cause or create anthrax, botulism (also the main ingredient for Botox), E. coli, the Ebola virus, Smallpox and Salmonella. They are at once beautiful and brilliant.

Crochet artist Elaine Bradford seems to have a bone to pick with hunters (who doesn’t?), and makes your head itchy with thought when viewing “Non-Typical Antler Growth,” a real mounted antelope head over which she’s crocheted a full-face, button-up sweater, the hood trailing off to the ground where the antler lay covered to its tips. This piece, and her deer-sized body suit of happy-striped orange and red feetie jams, “Field Undressing” are exceptionally clever, and highlight the irony we’d feel if animals actually donned manmade “skin” the way we slip into theirs.

In a similar vein, Carolyn Hopkins’ real life living room scene uses taxidermy forms covered in materials they might ultimately be used to create—a fox sitting on a blue velveteen chair, his body mass cookie-cut from the chair fabric, a rabbit sitting on a rug of its own skin, and a squirrel scampering across a “home sweet home” sign, taking a portion of cloth with him.

Other highlights include Ben Schachter’s aluminum conduit and cable ties “rug” that you’ll swear was in your grandparent’s house, Kate Kretz’s anatomically correct embroidered human heart, and Maggy Rozycki Hiltner’s massive hand-stitched cotton tapestry of boys and girls at play in which we find moments of isolation, penis-envy, friendship and gender wars—all conceived in genius and executed in exquisite detail. 

No, these are not your Aunt Margie’s handcrafts, my dears, and we’re all the better for it.

Raised in Craftivity at the Wignall  Museum, Chaffey College, 5885 Haven Ave., Rancho Cucamonga, (909) 652-6492; www.chaffey.edu/wignall. Open Mon., Thurs. & Fri., 10AM–4PM; Tues. & Wed., noon–8PM; Sat., noon–4PM. Thru March 7; Free