"Compaņeras: A Quilted Conspiracy of Hope" is a patchwork quilt about women changing the world through creativity. I (Hannah) initiated and facilitated the project, but the final product contains the artwork and writing of over 30 women and the thoughts and ideas of so many more. This was a collaborative process from start to finish, and seeks to honor the hopeful and creative moments and movements in Latin American women's history, as well as some of the inspiring messages that all women can share with the world.
Background - The Arpilleristas - Who made the patches and what are they about? - Defining the Project - Placing the Patches, Designing the Quilt - The Nitty-Gritty: Shapes, Sizes, Materials and Timelines - Reflections on the Process
By the Fall of my senior year at Goucher College, my advisor had convinced me that I should design a project to synthesize my experiences in the disciplines of International and Intercultural Studies, Latin American Studies, Women's Studies, and Peace Studies during my four years of study. I had learned so much about the failures of humanity, spotted with snippets of positive moments and stories. I wanted to bring these snippets to the center and treat them as if they mattered most, because right now, for me, they do.
I had consciously and subconsciously been developing a worldview that believes deeply in the infinite creativity of human beings, and I knew that I wanted to employ creativity in my project (whatever the project would be), rather than simply writing another paper about the need to be creative. Unfortunately, I did not consider myself creative enough, and certainly never would have called myself artistic. My formal art training consists only of 3 years of high school photography. I had never used a sewing machine, and only rarely re-sewn buttons onto shirts by hand. So why did I make a quilt? What was my specific inspiration?
Towards the end of November, 2001, I watched a video in class about the arpilleristas of Chile. These impoverished Chilean women gathered together during the repressive Pinochet regime to sew their stories of disappearance, torture, protest, and hope into tapestries called arpilleras. This collaborative process served as therapy for the women who were just beginning to form collective consciousnesses about their places in the nation and what was happening to them. They sewed pockets onto the backs of the arpilleras and placed personal written testimonies and letters inside before smuggling the tapestries into the churches and out of the country, providing them with a much-needed source of income while simultaneously raising international awareness about the situation in Chile.
Out of emotional and physical necessity, the arpilleristas used a traditional form of women's work to subvert the most powerful system of control and repression within their society. Their spontaneous and organic development struck me, and I considered making an arpillera or entire patchwork quilt of my own. I then remembered that I didn't know how to sew, let alone quilt, but the idea refused to leave me and my excitement and passion mounted as I discussed the idea with people.
Who made the patches and what are they about?
The patches can roughly be divided into three categories: patches I made about Latin American women, patches my friends made about Latin American women (mostly suggested by me), and personal messages to the world from other women who have inspired me.
I made 17.5 of the 49 patches (although the number is flexible since it is impossible to quantify the collaboration that went into some of them). With the exception of my personal patch, these patches all depict hopeful and creative moments and movements in Latin American women's history. The stories come mostly from books and essays, in addition to some personal knowledge about Nicaragua from having studied there. Some patches try to encapsulate entire movements or entire lives of individual women; others represent single inspiring stories that I found worthy of expanding, developing, and connecting to other stories. At times I searched for particular themes or countries in my reading; other times I simply read and let the stories jump out at me.
After reading so many books, essays, and websites, I found that I had more ideas than I could possibly portray. My process of elimination was not without its frustrations, but my happiness at the multitude of stories outweighed the disappointment at not being able to include them all. As it turned out, I did not have to eliminate as many as I had anticipated, because a strange phenomenon began to occur: friends started approaching, asking how they could help and often specifically saying, "I want to make a patch for your quilt." And so 10.5 more patches were born. My degree of involvement with each one varied. With some, I had very specific stories in mind and even visual images of what the patches might look like. As you can see when you read about each individual patch, the writing about these patches comes in the form of letters back and forth between me and the patchmaker. With other patches, I gave friends ideas of issues, countries, women, or movements and they developed the thoughts, designs, and writing on their own.
Finally, I asked women who have inspired me to make me patches about their own lives to complement the stories of the Latin American women. 21 different women, ranging from my mother to my academic advisor to singer/songwriter Dar Williams, created patches for me that answered either of the following questions:
What message can your life send to the world?
What has been one defining moment in your life that has helped shape the way you see the world?
I would also like to acknowledge Doņa Olga Montenegro, my host mother in Nicaragua, and Helen Dixon, the advisor for my research in Nicaragua, both of whom made and sent me patches from Nicaragua that I never received. I hope the process meant something to them (and who knows? Maybe I'll get a couple big packages in a few years and figure out a way to include them then).
You've read my current description of this project, but my definition of the quilt began in tidbits of journal entries. Here are a few excerpts that give a glimpse into my thought process as I was nurturing the idea that would become the quilt:
"women, expression, change, tradition, subverting the dominant paradigm, identity, diversity, community, creativity, process"
"self-empowerment, giving voice, letting voice be heard"
"weaving together of many stories and voices to create one bigger story - deducing bigger from smaller rather than other way around. A communicative force."
"turning the personal into a political tool"
"pockets of hope"
"When traditional, conventional, legal methods fail, when all institutions fail you, what do you do? That's what this is about."
"This really is about me, putting this together, trying to both develop and portray a worldview that is at once coherent and convoluted, realistic and idealistic, complex, hopeful, LOVING."
Placing the Patches, Designing the Quilt
By turning the fabric into patches, I intended to portray stories I knew and share them with others. I had no idea that the patches themselves would continue to teach me so much through their interaction with other patches and people. I sat down to arrange them, and kept thinking of more and more ways I could group the patches, both thematically and aesthetically. The final quilt's design goes something like this (though remember the sections are somewhat fluid):
I began with my own personal patch in the center, because as the facilitator of the project, I am ultimately the tie that binds it all together. Leading outward from mine are patches that are both personally important to me and can lead into other sections of the quilt. My patch, my mother's patch, and my grandmother's patch correspond with the three patches to the right of them - the three generations of women in the Partnoy family - and these patches lead to many others about Argentina, Brazil, and themes that are found within these countries. The patch about the arpilleristas directs us to the Chile section, of which a substantial part focuses on various forms of imprisonment and women's resistance to it. The heart/vagina patch leads upward into many patches about women reclaiming their bodies, their lives, and their histories and herstories through new forms of education. The patch about speaking truth to power and connecting Central America with the United States is the perfect segue from my patch to the Nicaragua section. The mid- to lower-left of the quilt has a strong base in religion and faith (all different kinds of faith). A wellspring of strength shoots up from the bottom of the quilt, supporting the patches above. In general (with many exceptions, of course), I would say that the top of the quilt is more exploratory and the bottom more reflective.
The Nitty-Gritty: Shapes, Sizes, Materials and Timelines
This project took five months from start to finish. I saw the video about the arpilleristas and began conceiving of the idea in November of 2001, and my quilt opening was April 29, 2002. In those five months I read, talked, thought, mailed, sewed, wrote, and met (in addition to my "regular" life, that is).
The finished quilt measures about 65 inches by 65 inches, with 49 patches (7x7) that measure 8 inches by 8 inches each.
I bought very little during my quilting process. This was partly a conscious decision to follow in the footsteps of the arpilleristas as much as possible (who used old clothing because that's what they had); partly my environmental/global consciousness and my own student budget came into play; and partly it happened because so many people so generously offered their old clothing to the quilting cause (and partly because I've never been very good at getting rid of old clothes myself). All of these factors conspired to give me a great variety of various items of clothing with different degrees of durability.
I did buy a few things. At the very beginning I bought enough muslin to cut up into little squares to use myself and send to others. When I returned to Nicaragua in December I bought the purple material I used between all the patches on the front. When I was ready for the backing, I knew I didn't have anything big enough, so I went to JoAnn Fabrics and picked out a perfect crazy quilt pattern to use. And of course, I had to buy batting, a few colors of thread, and a button or two.
I could write over a hundred pages here, pulling from journal entries from the past half a year, but I won't. Most of my amazement about this project and what it has become falls into one of two categories: "How was I able to do this? I've never been an artist, never known how to sew, etc." and "How has this inspired so many women? The collaboration and cycles of inspiration astound me." I have already mentioned these themes and will not say more about them except to reiterate a cliché: Anything is possible! I have never felt this statement to be more true than now.
As for other thoughts, I have been thinking about quilting, and sewing in general, and what it has meant to all different kinds of women throughout time. I know much less than I would like to about the history of quilting, but what I have learned is fascinating and inspiring: about the arpilleristas, about the women in the Underground Railroad sewing visual messages into quilts for their fellow travelers, and more.
And of course, there is the personal meaning. When I studied in Nicaragua, I conducted research about a maquila (garment factory or sweatshop) in the Matagalpa area. In some ways I think this quilting project was a way to reclaim the act of sewing for myself and for all the incredible women who shared their stories with me during my research. I have developed a keen awareness of the intricacies of the act of sewing as exploitative, expressive, subversive, etc. In my own personal pre-quilt life, sewing has been nothing more or less than an occasional practical necessity. Some of the older women who made me patches, however, expressed their initial hesitancy based on having been forced to sew as young girls. Still others have told me I've helped them overcome a "sewing phobia" that has developed among many women for whatever reason. And I must admit, I am still working to overcome some of my own sewing phobia; even after all this, there is still a degree to which I think I have no idea what I'm doing. I make it up as I go along... but isn't that what makes life exciting?