A Stitch in Time

On returning to the Midlands I was eager to visit the Ikon gallery in Birmingham, one of my favourite contemporary art galleries tucked away in the city centre and complete with its own little tower.

Currently showing the exhibition This Could Happen To You, a programme detailing the history of the gallery's artistic programme during the 70's, one piece entitled 'A Stitch in Time' is a recreation of the original piece by David Medalla, which was created 1968-72.
During this time large cloths were distributed in public spaces, to which viewers were encouraged to sew small significant objects and trinkets. The concept was part of a series of 'participation pieces' by Medalla, who wanted to increase accessibility to art by challenging the creative hierarchy and encouraging a playful and experimental approach.



Pictured is the contemporary version of the piece, a large metallic cloth accompanied by a plethora of coloured thread and needles. My enthusiasm to participate was hampered only by my sewing abilities; which were a little rusty having not been employed since primary school. I had a go none the less and the results are shown below, a little feline attached to the already present bus ticket with some interesting red lines.



The original pieces were impressive patchwork creations, a far cry to their contemporary counterpart, which although interesting and an enjoyable experience to take part in, was looking slightly bare and lacking the commonplace sewing skills of yesteryear.

whimsical

List of not paticularly constructive musings

#1. Why does everything take on such a filmic quality when accompanied by a background track? I often think this on public transport, yesterday a man running for the bus to 'Changes' was really quite lovely.

#2. I wish I knew where everyone on the tube was going and what they were doing there. One drunk woman on the tube, my first proper crazy stranger encounter north of the river in fact, was playing this game with a solicitor whom she had befriended. He smiled good naturedly on as she quizzed him as to his profession/drug taking habbits before proceeding to play the guess the stop game, which she was actually quite good at, even if she did call my boyfriend a 'chick'.

#3. It must be really quite fun to drive a bus at night, even if it is through the not so nice areas of south east London past inumerable yobs. There's just a really strange, homely quality about being on this big ball of light ploughing through the darkness, I don't know...maybe the bus driver was just driving so fast because she wanted to get home.

homesick

I finally understand why people are happy to stay in crappy 'northern' towns, often pushing dead end jobs. Cuz you got nothing if you don't got your friends and family, and whilst you can stay in touch sure, it just aint the same as having them around you. I wish I could keep all my friends and family in a little bubble and carry them with me. Selfish huh.