i was ten years old when my mother took me to see judy chicago’s "dinner party” in san francisco. chicago’s traveling art installation was born of the idea that women should be invited to a last supper and celebrated for their great and varied accomplishments at a level on par with how men have been lauded since time immemorial. there were three components of the exhibit: a series of entryway banners, the actual triangular dinner table with a place setting for thirty-nine super impressive women and the triangular tiles that made up the heritage floor, inscribed in gold with the names of nine hundred and ninety-eight additional notable women… there were meant to be nine hundred and ninety-nine, but one man was mistakenly included because an earlier historian had identified him as a female greek sculptor from the 400’s BC.
of course, the aspect of the show most memorable for me was the hand-painted dinner plates created to honor and elucidate the achievements of the guests. almost all of the plates were designed with a floral, butterfly or triangular motif, representing a vagina. (it’s AMAZING that i am putting this word in print, as traditionally i am not good at using proper anatomical terminology. it took me attending a lecture on pedophiles in my FORTIES to understand that referring to a woman’s private parts as a “chimichanga” is not only completely misleading (chimichangas more closely resemble a man’s appendage), but it’s also dangerous for my children to use improper, silly terms. i can’t really say how chimichanga came to be the reference or WHY because my mother never used cutesy monikers with me and is surely rolling her eyes as she reads this, but i am proud to say it is now taken out of my vernacular, except when we are at a mexican restaurant.) anyway, the plates were stunning… each one visually compelling, gorgeous and informative.
some of my friends’ parents were shocked that my mother brought me to this “racy, controversial” exhibit, still considered the most recognized and significant work of feminist art ever made, but for me, the experience was one of so many that my mother wove into my childhood (even if it didn’t encourage me to use correct terminology.) we were always making trips to san francisco to see the georgia o’keeffe exhibit or king tut’s artifacts or the famed quilt collection hung in the esprit corporate headquarters or attending a myriad of plays and avant garde dance performances.
my mother grew up on a farm in the small town of atlantic, iowa in the 1950’s… a time when there was a lot of clarity around the expectations for young women, but so many boundaries as well. while she loved her parents, she always felt that she wasn’t meant to live on a farm and promptly moved to the “big city” of minneapolis after finishing college at iowa state. she began working as a junior buyer for dayton’s, an upscale department store… a job that sent her on exciting seasonal trips to new york and taught her to always have her bagel order prepared when she got to the front of the line.
she loved visiting the museums and taking in the street fashion and the architecture and put a high priority on experiencing the beautiful. so this farmer’s daughter decided to expose her own daughter to art and ideas and challenges that hadn’t been presented to her. as such, my berkeley childhood was a mixture of everything my mother was: creamed chicken and mashed potatoes, homemade chocolate chip cookies and hand-sewn clothes along with exciting visits to exhibitions and galleries and performances. i am so grateful for both the comfort food (that i still make, despite living in boulder, the kale capitol of the world) and her belief in the deep importance of creativity and beauty. many years later, i also worked in fashion in new york city and learned to have my order ready when i got to the front of the line at H&H. and my mother has continued to introduce me to the work of inspiring painters and weavers and sculptors and textile artists, as well as pushed me to explore my own creative endeavors… viewing this pursuit as integral to my well-being. and now that she is a grandmother, she shares this knowledge and enthusiasm with my children as well… inviting them into her art studio and collaborating with them on fabric wall pieces and all kinds of interesting sewing projects. THANK YOU my beautiful mother… wishing you the happiest mother’s day…with so much love and appreciation x0x
to read more about my mother click here