For artist Judy Kirpich making is directed by emotion, and her art often acts as “a mirror into [her] soul and sometimes it has been somewhat dark.” Reflecting on this moment, and how her practice as an artist impacts her life she declares “honestly, without my art, I think I would be lost.” Based in the Washington, D.C.-area, Kirpich discovered improvisational quilting in 2005, and began studying with renowned quilt artist, Nancy Crow. Since 2012 her quilts have been seen in museums and quilt exhibitions in Europe, Asia, Australia and in the United States. Kirpich was awarded the prestigious Quilt National Japan Prize and joined a select group of artists showing their work in Mastery: Sustaining Momentum, a Nancy Crow curated show in May 2016. Her Conflict Series quilts were shown at a one-woman show at the Aughinbaugh Gallery in 2017 and she recently had a one woman solo show at the Delaplaine Art Center.
For more information, please see: www.judykirpich.com, www.Unmultitasking.blogspot.com, or on Instagram @judykirpich.
Judy Kirpich, Anxiety No. 11. Image courtesy of the artist.
First, and most importantly, how are you doing? How are you navigating the highs and lows?
I actually think I am doing very well. While there are a few petty annoying differences, like worrying about toilet paper or eggs, I am a very fortunate person. I have my health, I live in a nice home with an outdoor space, I love my husband and do not mind being around him, and I am retired so I am not worrying about running a business. I have learned how to cope by turning off all notifications on my iphone. I limit the news that I listen to, watch or read, and I have become a bit of an current events ostrich. I follow all the precautions and for the first time my family is grateful for my huge collection of soap that I have gotten for every birthday and holiday.
The biggest low: I was juried into an international fiber show in Portugal, Contextile 2020. It is doubtful if I will be able to attend. I have been juried into several shows that never opened due to COVID-19 but this particular show was one I was really looking forward to attending in a tiny medieval town in northern Portugal. As my daughter would say, “… first world problems…”
Judy Kirpich’s Anxiety No. 13, in progress in her Maryland studio. Image courtesy of the artist.
It's my experience that most artists engage with some level of self-isolation in their day to day art practice. Has this been your experience? And if so, have you found these innate rhythms to be helpful during this larger, world-wide experience of isolation?
My routine during the quarantine has been pretty similar to my daily routine. When I am working at my studio in Delaware I can go days and sometimes weeks without seeing another person. I work in isolation and can’t really produce much if I am surrounded by distraction. In Washington, I work in a much smaller space, but even then I pretty much have the house to myself.
I am an early riser, and it is not unusual for me to be in my studio starting work at 7-7:30. My schedule is pretty routine. I will work until 1ish, take a break for lunch, return to work until 6:30-7. I know that my day is over when All Things Considered and Marketplace are finished. I used to return to work after dinner, but as I get older I find that is harder to manage. I pretty much repeat this schedule 6 or 7 days a week.
I take a walk with my husband and new puppy once or twice a day and meditate every afternoon after I finish work and before I start to cook dinner…. Not a terribly exciting life, but one that works for me.
My art really dominates my time and I am really unsettled if there are long periods of time when I am not in my studio. This has proven to be pretty useful during a period of self-isolation as I am used to being alone.
Judy Kirpich, Anxiety No. 13 (detail). Image courtesy of the artist.
It would be great if you could briefly talk us through your practice. Understanding it is integral to appreciating the multivalence of your work.
I work improvisationally. I let my emotions guide me through my art. As such I really do not sketch much, nor do I keep a notebook. I wish I had the discipline to sketch, but I feel uncomfortable drawing. I usually walk around with lots of ideas swirling around in my head.
Like many artists, starting a new piece can be daunting. I find myself spinning in circles for a few days, trying out many different ideas, meeting a lot of dead ends, and trying to silence the inner critic who tells me I will never produce anything of worth ever again. Once I am past this period, I settle down and will focus on design composition and color before anything else. My 37 years as a graphic designer has served me well…
Normally I work on 2-4 pieces at a time, all in different stages of development. I may be configuring a piece on my design wall, constructing a different one at my sewing table, hand quilting fabric at another design table, and doing the laborious tasks of binding and finishing on a fourth piece, all at the same time. Having variety is important to me since I can jump from piece to piece depending on what my mood and level of patience is.
When I am working in my studio in Delaware I have six pinnable design walls. In DC I only have one and that means I can only design one composition at a time. Being stuck in DC has hampered my normal practice since I am used to jumping back and forth between pieces.
The first thing that happens when I step into my studio is I turn on music, podcasts or audio books. Having spent most of my career managing a large design agency, I was constantly on the phone and could never listen to music at work. Now, it is such a luxury to listen to music as I work. I love a wide variety of music from Flamenco to DC gogo and you can tell my mood by the music I am listening to. If I have Keith Jarrett on, it is a pretty good bet that I am designing and I am stuck. If I have Chuck Brown gogo music on, it means I have made a break through and am booking… If you hear Brazilian samba I am in a good place. If I am listening to an audio book it is a pretty good bet that I am doing mindless work that does not need much concentration. I can not listen to stories while I am starting a new piece… it is too distracting.
Judy Kirpich, Anxiety No. 13 (detail). Image courtesy of the artist.
Has any of your imagery shifted in a reflection to what's currently happening? Or are you considering using coronavirus related imagery for future projects? Do you find it necessary to make work about the pandemic? And why, or why not?
Currently I am working in two or three different series: Anxiety, Memory Loss, and Indigo Compositions. Right now my work seems to be focused mostly in the Anxiety series. I’m not sure that I have done this consciously and I have not “decided” to do a piece on the Coronavirus. Rather, I am feeling tense and stressed and that manifests itself primarily in the Anxiety series. The techniques that I use in this series involve slashing into fabric over and over again, That is particularly satisfying when I need to release tension. Yet it also demands tremendous concentration to piece circles or lines into whole cloth.
I work abstractly and will not use any literal coronavirus imagery in my work. In the past I have produced a few pieces around different current events, especially the last presidential election. I was not satisfied since I felt the pieces were too contrived and predictable. I do not want to make that mistake again so I am avoiding any literal references.
One study that I worked at the very beginning of March now seems very fraught to me. While it uses a bright palette, these are colors that I do not normally use together and make me uneasy. The line work is less controlled than normal and I see a lot of tension in the piece. When I look at it I realize that maybe I am not really feeling as calm as I say I am.
I just finished Anxiety No. 13; it was created in the period from late February to the present and I can see elements of my emotional distress in this piece, however, it is an amalgamation of not only the pandemic but other family issues that have affected me. 2020 has been a difficult year so far and COVID-19 is most definitely a part of that. The surface design on the cloth and the stitching is very erratic and chaotic. Like the study above, I think that my veneer of calm must be pretty thin.
Judy Kirpich, Anxiety Study. Image courtesy of the artist.
Are you thinking differently? Coping differently? Inspired differently?
The hardest part for me is not being in my studio and being confined to the one room space in my DC house. It forces me to change the way I work and slows me down. In Delaware, I have a very large space of about 1800 square feet with 14 foot walls, and I have 4 enormous industrial cutting tables. In DC I have 80 square feet with 8 ft walls and one small cutting table. Obviously being confined to this space has forced me to work smaller than I would like. Alas I am in Takoma Park, Maryland. I really can not complain though. It is a wonderful neighborhood with wonderful people. As soon as the Governor of Delaware allows us to come, and the Governor of Maryland allows us to leave, we will decamp to Lewes, Delaware.
A coping method that I have used successfully is to try and do some slow stitching every day or so. These stitching exercises are purely to calm me - textile meditation if you will. I have no expectations whatsoever that I will produce anything of value, rather it is a way for me to calm myself…. a kind of doodling with thread.
Kirpich’s spacious studio in Lewes, Delaware. Image courtesy of the artist.
Kirpich’s home studio in the DC metro area. Image courtesy of the artist.
What do you think or hope will be different after this crisis has passed?
I have been thinking a lot about how to show my work in the future. Having three exhibitions cancelled has dampened by spirits considerably and I have been reluctant to enter any future exhibitions… it just seems like a waste of time and money. I can not imagine how artists who are putting on solo shows must feel to have these pushed back or cancelled. I find that working towards a show is a great motivator, and now that seems tenuous at best.
Not having the ability to show my work is difficult. My pieces generally take anywhere from 2-5 months to complete and it is disheartening to finish a piece and roll is up and put it away, not knowing if it will ever be seen. That won’t stop me from working, but it is sometimes hard to bear.
Judy Kirpich’s Indigo Composition No. 11 in progress at her Lewes, Delaware studio. Image courtesy of the artist.
What is bringing you solace, or even joy, in this moment?
First and foremost - family. Talking to my mom, sister, daughter and son frequently is like a lifeline. My mom, age 91, is in Philadelphia, my sister lives in Ann Arbor and my daughter lives in Mexico City. Facetime has been a real plus since I get to see them regularly. I can not imagine what it would be like not to have that access. My son is living in Baltimore and I get to see him often. Silly as it may sound, we have a new puppy to train. My husband and I are finding tremendous joy and humor training Rye.
Talking to my daughter she commented that we are so used to things being predictable and linear. This pandemic is anything but predictable and we really have no idea what will be coming up in the next months, or even year. I will have to do some hard work to adjust to this new reality. Honestly, without my art, I think I would be lost.
Judy Kirpich, Memory Loss No. 1. Image courtesy of the artist.