the big speech...

Dunedin NZ September 2011...

"Thank you so much for inviting me here – I think.

When I first got the invitation I ‘wasgunna’ get really organised and talk about all sorts of things. Who am I kidding – I’ve never done this before!

It is close to 47 years since I was last in this city. Then I was playing representative basketball at the national championships. I know. I used to be tall but time and gravity got to me ..

I wasgunna lose some weight – yeah right – so I would at least be confident about standing in front of you all. The thought that I might need a little extra for warmth down here in the deep south is one pathetic excuse I used. Let’s face it I gave up smoking over 20 years ago and that was simple compared to giving up food. So now I stand in front of you looking pretty much as I have always looked – warm and cuddly.

I decided that it would be easy if I talked about something I know really well – me! Me. But that wouldn’t necessarily interest you. So the next best thing is quilting - quilting and my quilt journey.

I wasgunna tell you how I began my quilting experience but that was many moons ago and so-o much has happened since - the details no longer matter. Suffice to say that I started that first quilt the day after my husband walked out and finished it ten days later. Yep, hand quilted and binding on. I then had something that didn’t drink or gamble BUT something that kept me warm – and totally occupied. My first quilt.

I worked with a lovely lady who got me hooked. Sometimes these days I go to a quilt meeting and I feel as though I should take the pledge – you know stand up in front and say ‘hello my name is Natalie and I’m a quilter’

Anyway that first quilt was a rail fence pattern and each day Yvonne sent me home to wash n iron, sew n iron, cut n sew n iron, you get the idea? Ten days later I had been taught some important lessons that still apply to all my patchwork and quilting – iron n iron n iron.

When I think about it - seams on patchwork are about all I do iron these days. It’s amazing how well body heat copes with the creases in your clothing. And I don’t necessarily wash the fabrics first anymore though sometimes the blues and reds look suspiciously like runners.

A few weeks ago I was interviewed and I was asked if I began sewing as a child. Nope. My parents were the ‘oh give it to me’ variety so I spent my childhood watching them being very clever with form, colour, balance and technique. My dad was a professional photographer and mum made pin money sewing. I watched.

I grew up in Nelson. During the May school holidays way back Dad would pack us up in trusty old Vanguard and we would trek around the South Island looking for autumn colours to photograph. Dad drove as if it was an off-roader and we went places no-man had gone before often getting stuck (all four kids piled onto the bonnet of the car and mum pushing) you get the picture.

Dad carried a rake in the car boot. With this he could clear the foreground or hook a branch down to balance the skyline. Landscape photography was his passion. He kept a weather eye out – the sun made the shadows stronger, the rain or dull days soften outlines. And I watched.

It wasn’t until relatively recently that it occurred to me that Dad was using black and white film. His balance of form and light, the contrasting grey-scale and his abiding passion made masterpieces of his photography. I had watched and learned.

50 years ago I can remember Mum getting a Bernina sewing machine for Christmas (she and I share that day with our birthdays) and she cried all day. I can never remember using it. It was my job to pick up the pins after a session on the most recent bridal gown. So I watched.

The first thing I ever put on time payment when I left home and went to work was a sewing machine. It cost three guineas but enabled me to sew clothing – I knew how cos I had watched and learned.

There is one regret I have from those early days of watching and learning – I shoulda done more of it during my maths classes. If only I had known - I coulda used all those fractions and geometry equations for quilting.

As I told you earlier my first quilt was made 21 years ago. And I was immediately drawn to this great craft – I think I have one of those addictive personalities (you know food …).

Within a couple of years I was teaching. Why should I not share all of this wonderful new knowledge I had?

I love scrappy quilts. The more fabrics you can use the better the nasties look and we all somehow get those nasties in our collection. I have a scrap basket that is yeah tall and about this wide and it is permanently full. A recent club visit to my studio saw at least eight plastic bags full go out the door and the basket was still full.

I’m working on it’s secret – how to grow the stash without really trying. For the recipe I have got as far as: Take one large container and add scraps at will. Then rummage and fondle until frayed edges appear. Leave to rise adding when finished with a project or tidying up the studio. Now you sort out sufficient scraps to make a quilt and watch carefully. The level does not go down. In fact if you have measured carefully you will see it has, if anything, risen.

And you know another thing – not all the fabric in there is familiar. Haven’t discovered what causes the immigrants to the stash but unless they start getting really ugly then all are welcome.

Oh sure I recently found a piece of my very first quilt but some of the others …

On my first visit to Dallas way back, I was standing in front of an oil painting by a well-known French artist (I can’t remember his name – I have trouble with my own at times, so I can’t drop that one into the story). The docent said ‘turn to the left and look at that landscape down there. Now compare the two’.

She gave me an important colour lesson right there. The well-known and talented in front of me was stunning with layers of colour (I mean for example blues - lots of them in the sky) creating depth and dimension whilst the one to the left (painted by Sir Winston Churchill) looked like a water-colour. He was gifted but not with applying colour. Since then I have used more, much more, colour and fabric to achieve the depth and tone in my quilts.

In one of my early scraps classes the tutor was very proud of the fact that she and we had used ‘up to 20 different fabrics’. These days that is a sort of pfft – 120 is not a record but who is counting?

One of my favourite quilts was styled on a lavender bush. I sat among my scrap collection and thought lavender bush and was amazed at how many colours I pulled out – lavender through to purple, dusky blues through to periwinkle and then there are all the soft greens from sage through to the dark bottle green. The complete quilt made a great wedding gift and I had the dual pleasure of giving (as we all do with our quilts) and then watching the basket for the miracle of multiplying fabrics.

These days my studio is a little old brick church – I’d like to tell you about the bell tower, steeple and stained-glass windows but it would all be lies and it is a church we are talking about here. A little brick church with a cross on the outside wall and inside a wintery chill factor to keep the congregation awake. I think perhaps my father had some (posthumous) influence. He did try to get me to go to church every Sunday way back – now I go every day. I have a benevolent-looking self-portrait of him high on the wall watching. No I don’t think he is learning very much though

Anyway the studio has a high wooden ceiling with exposed beams that do nothing much except give the birds somewhere to perch when they come in and the cobwebs something to hang from – both spiders and birds know I can’t reach them. What it does have are nine foot high walls that are just great for hanging quilts. I initially thought they would work like tapestries did in old castles – at least keep the cold at bay. Not so. In the middle of winter the windows get condensation on the outside cos it’s warmer out there.

It is though an inspirational space to work in.

And what else could you call such a place but Wholly Quilts

I bought the church six years ago and built a house right on its hip. Now I run retreats from there and absolutely love having guests in my space – I’d like to think I they learn heaps while with me cos I certainly learn from every class and retreat.

Mangatarata, my home ‘town’, is an hour or so from Auckland, Hamilton and a little bit longer to Tauranga and Rotorua – like a major crossroads at the top end of the Hauraki Plains. I am surrounded by beautiful dairy country and get great satisfaction from my edible garden which has evolved from the old church car park.

Gardening is so like patchwork – you take some scraps (seeds or cuttings) and they grown to something useful and beautiful.

Cooking is the same – take some scraps (ingredients) and make appetising and comforting food.

I could go on – you can tell I am just as enthusiastic about gardening and cooking as I am about quilting – why else would I set up a retreat. It is not to pamper my guests but pure indulgence.

One of the best things about my quilting is that I have built-in appreciation with my kids. Always have had. Three young adults that are fabulous, encouraging and always there for me – how good is that. They even fight over whose turn is it for the next quilt and I cannot ask my daughter what to call a quilts cos her standard answer is ‘mine’

I am surrounded every day by my quilts, my friends, my garden and my cooking – I’d like to make a very profound statement about my lifestyle but the only metaphor that comes to mind is I am like a pig in muck – maybe snug as a bug in a rug is more appropriate.

I hope you have managed to nudge your neighbours awake while I’ve been talking.

I am going to show you a few of my quilts but it is with a huge apology cos I have one quilt presently hanging in the On the Surface challenge for the Aotearoa Quilters. I have another three heading to Hamilton for the Craft show next weekend and I have seven having their photos taken for my feature in next month’s NZ Quilter.

After quilting for 21 years you would think it possible to find a reasonable selection to bring down here. I left all the big ones back at home – nine beds in the house have at least three quilts each but they were ruled out by their size so these ones cover a few years of my quilting journey."

thus endeth the speech