Spotlight: Cathy Miranker, Modern Quilter

Cathy Miranker walked into a quilt shop and left with fabric and quilting supplies, joined a class and the local quilt guild. Now, she reinterprets things she sees and places she visits through her geometric “lens” to create her abstract modern quilts.

How do you describe yourself as a quilter?

Happy and obsessive! I go to sleep thinking about quilts and I wake up thinking about quilts! 

I’m a modern quilter with a minimalist sensibility. My quilts emerge from the interplay of geometric shapes, streamlined design, and vivid, hard-edged colors, creating what I hope is a “stop-and-stare” experience for viewers— and sometimes a “can-I-touch-it?!” moment, too.

What do you do differently? What is your signature that makes your work stand out as yours?

I think my particular look comes partly from what I do, and partly from what I don’t do.

Triangles, arcs, circles, rectangles, squares, lines … for me, there’s nothing more compelling than those pure forms. So you’ll see lots of those “hard-edged” shapes in my quilts.

But you won’t see them used in familiar blocks. Instead, I use my chosen components to create abstract compositions across my quilts.

I also have a particular fondness for quilting my work with continuous spiral lines, or clusters of continuous spirals. You can see this in Bauhaus Brasil, Mediterranean Semaphore, and A Gift of Triangles N^o. 1 and N^o. 2. I also favor matchstick quilting lines, sinuous organic lines and sometimes a combination of both.

How has your work been influenced by the minimalist movement in quilting?

I owe a huge debt to the minimalist aesthetic, both in the modern quilt scene and in the wider arts world.

My favorite minimalist quiltmaker, teacher and author is Gwen Marston; my designs, my colors, my “art parts” (a term she and Freddy Moran coined for shapes and components) all changed after talking an Empty Spools workshop with her in 2016.

I also admire the work of Sarah Hibbert (@quiltscornerstone), Brigitte Heitland (@zenchicmoda), Juli Smith (@zahada_mod), Lisa Call (@lisacallfineart), David Owen Hastings (@davidowenhastings), Kate Stiassni, Debbie Grifka (@debbiegrifka), and many others whom I follow on Instagram.

I’m an inveterate gallery- and museum-goer, too. If I could magically cross over to another art form, it would be hard-edge painting! It’s an abstract style I love, known for intense color, basic geometric forms, and clean lines. The result, in the hands artists like Frank Stella, Ellsworth Kelly, Frederick Hammersley and Lorser Feitelson, is something I aspire to: complex simplicity.

I also admire the aesthetic of contemporary tile artists (yes, that’s a thing), Josef and Anni Albers, Carmen Herrera, Norman Ives, the genre-defying artist Sonia Delaunay, and such graphic designers as Walter Dexel, Walter Allner and the Pentagram team. 

Where do you find inspiration for your designs?

My inspiration comes from things I see, places I visit, reinterpreted through my geometric “lens.” I think some photo inspiration vs. finished quilts will explain what I mean.

From my home I can see across San Francisco Bay to the Marin Headlands, and in particular, to a place called Kirby Cove. Here’s what it really looks like. And here’s how I reimagined it, in From Cliff to Shore.

Here’s the Golden Gate Bridge, and here’s my minimalist view, in International Orange.

I love the fabric designer Marcia Derse, and this pair of images shows how one of her prints brings a “pop” to the minimalist, mostly monochrome composition, Ombré Greens.

During California’s wildfire season in 2020, I conjured an imaginary landscape based on photos in the news.

Do you work in series? How does that affect your approach?

Yes, I work in series (or categories) that I call Minimalist Geometry, Mostly Monochrome, and Abstract Geographies, with others that are not yet fully formulated. I find that this approach sharpens my focus, deepens my sense of play, and helps me stick with an iterative succession of experiments.

When it comes to creating, are you more of a planner or an improviser? Can you tell us about the inspiration and process of one of your works? How does a new work come about?

I practice what I call a “premeditative” phase before I actually do anything … before making a sketch, pulling fabrics, putting a new blade in the rotary cutter, cutting shapes, oiling the sewing machine, or even changing the needle. It’s a period of time—perhaps a week but sometimes longer—when all I do is “think” a new quilt into existence!

In my mind’s eye, I envision how individual shapes or geometric units might interact and form a composition. I ponder size … color … negative space … and then I might make a sketch or, more often, start cutting out a few shapes from colored paper to test my ideas.

Let me use Mediterranean Semaphore as an example. My starting point was a large silk scarf that my sister-in-law had gifted me, with a welter of such electric colors that neither of us would ever wear it! Could I give it a minimalist makeover?

I had two L-shaped units in mind, one forming two sides of a square, the other set askew and (sort of) centered in a square. I cut paper shapes to audition sizes for the Ls and the squares. Then I fussy-cut the scarf to get as many aqua-teal strips as possible, as well as aqua-only and teal-only. By keeping the strips skinny, I was able to harvest more pieces from the scarf, sew more components, and design a sizable quilt (60 x 60). Then I scattered my units on a neutral background, arranging and rearranging until I had a composition with movement and balance, but a jolt of asymmetry, too. 

Describe your creative space. … Scraps. Saver? Or be done with them?

I’m blessed with a fabulous, large, light-filled space … but somehow it’s always the messiest place in the house!

My husband built custom tables (height-adjustable via hydraulic lifts) to use as my cutting station and for my sewing machine. The ergonomics are perfect; thanks, Glen!

I keep my “working stock” of fabric behind cupboard doors, where it’s easy to see yet safe from daylight. I have 12 or so bins on shelves around the room for scraps, organized by colors. I also do pretty ruthless clear-outs a few times a year, offering fabric I no longer love to my sewing circle or to the free table at my guild.

How often do you start a new project? Do you work actively on more than one project at a time?

I usually have several projects on the go at the same time, but at different stages of development. Right now (midsummer), there’s a quilt on the wall

—or rather 48 triangles and 60 rectangles to be used for ⅛-inch-wide inset strips!—that I hope to begin piecing soon. There are two experiments propped up so I can think about them, or make a little change every day. And then there’s finishing work awaiting attention, sleeves to attach, labels to sew, slats to trim, and the like.

How did you find yourself on an artist’s path? 

I’ve had several aha moments. The first was the discovery of a great quilt shop. Black Cat Quilts (sadly, now long-gone) gave me my start. I walked in one day, and by the time I walked out, I had signed up for a class, joined the local guild, and purchased bags of fabrics and tools.

Walking into my first QuiltCon was another revelation; I had the feeling that every single quilt and every single speaker had something to say to me. It was a homecoming of sorts, and everyone on the floor was part of my extended family. Getting involved with the Studio Art Quilt Associates has also made me feel at home with another group textile artists.

Do you keep track of your work? Shows that you’ve entered? Tell us what works for you.

I use a spreadsheet—I have a lot to keep track of!—and I check it every day.

Last year, for example, I was juried into 18 exhibitions ranging from Europe to California, New York to Pennsylvania, Connecticut to Kentucky, so there was way too much information to simply remember. I track calls-for-entry that interest me (along with deadlines for submission, notification, delivery, and pick-up, plus show dates and receptions) along with shows where I’ve been accepted and shows where I’m not invited.

I also keep details on my quilts in the spreadsheet, not just dimensions and year but also the description I’ve provided to different shows. Finally, I track venue data, such as contacts, addresses, display space, social media tags and the like.