Spotlight: Judy Kirpich, Fiber Artist

Judy Kirpich started her journey as a fiber artist by making her own clothes. A class with Nancy Crow was her first step into the world of fiber art. Her emotions are directly mirrored in her work.

How did you find yourself on an artist’s path? Always there? Lightbulb moment? Dragged kicking and screaming? Evolving?

I have always followed my artistic impulses throughout my life, from decorating envelopes and clay jewelry as a twelve year old, to studying landscape architecture in graduate school to founding and leading a graphic design agency for 37 years. Art has always been part of my life, even more now that I am retired and can work on it full-time. 

How did you get started making fiber art? Why did you choose that medium? Or, did it choose you?

Since high school I always liked making my own clothes. I could not afford designer clothing and I hated the quality of off the rack. I joined an Issey Miyake sewing group and started making my wardrobe. I used beautiful fabrics and my tailoring was pretty good. After a while I actually had too many clothes.

I wanted to continue sewing but my closets were full and my children wanted clothes from the Gap, not from me. So, I thought I would try quilting.

I actually thought quilting was rather lame and boring until I happened upon the work of Nancy Crow. I think my initial class with Nancy was my first step into the world of fiber art. 

Where do you find inspiration for your designs?

I am usually driven by my emotional state. From memory loss, to the Syrian conflict, from Iceland to the breakup of my family home, I let my emotions carry me. Sometimes I am sad and anxious, and sometimes I feel happier or somewhat calm. This is directly mirrored in my work.

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

I always work in a series and sometimes I work within two or three series at one time.

I find that a series allows me to fully explore an idea rather than having to cram everything into one piece. I can finesse parts that don’t work and push areas that have more promise. Also working in a series solves the problem of what should I do next. I don’t constantly have to come up with new ideas.

I have retired some series knowing that I have accomplished want I wanted. Currently there are about 5 series that I come back to often. 

When it comes to creating, are you more of a planner or an improviser?

I think I am probably more of an improviser when it comes to composition, but since many of my compositions are hard to sew together, I need to be a planner in terms of engineering what order to sew pieces together. I almost never sketch or use the computer when I am beginning a design. I usually have an idea in my head when I start but the first weeks are 100% improvisation. 

Are you a “finisher”? How many UFOs do you think you have?

I always finish a piece before starting a new one. I cannot rest with piles of un-quilted or unbound work. I really do not enjoy the last parts of a piece squaring it up, binding it, adding sleeves and labels. If I don’t finish a piece before starting new work then I fear it would languish in a pile of work. 

Describe your creative space.

Do you use a sketchbook or journal? How does that help your work develop?

No. I have tried to sketch but it just does not suit me. I do, however have a lovely collection of empty sketchbooks that I have purchased over the years with the intention of starting to sketch. 

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

I try to work on two or three pieces at a time if they are all at different stages of completion. I might be doing heavy duty composition on one piece, making fabric for a second piece and completing finishing details on a third. I do find it hard to do initial composition on more than one piece at a time.

Actually if I think of it, I am probably mulling about ideas in my head for the next piece all of the time. I find that the time between finishing a piece and starting a new one is absolutely the worst period for me as I always worry if my creativity has run dry. Will I have original work? Is the last piece really any good? What if I am producing a series of duds? What if I have run out of idea? Is my work relevant?

Can you tell us about the inspiration and process of one of your works? How does a new work come about?

My work seems to start in my head. I can’t really see it, but I will feel that I have to start work in a particular direction. As I have said before I am motivated by my emotions and while I may start a piece in one series. by the time I am done it may feel like it belongs in a different one. 

As an example, I am currently working in a series about Iceland which is a relatively calm, peaceful series. There is a uniform trim size and each piece is highly textural. I had the idea of trying to do a piece about lava. Iceland has a number of active volcanoes and I love watching videos of the lava.

I started out and before long I realized I was producing a very violent piece that had little to do with lava but more to do with the events of the last half year – the death of my husband, David, Ukraine, the Oct 7 events in Israel, Gaza over the last 8 months, and our political morass in the US. While I started a piece to fit in my Iceland series, this piece could very well fit in Conflict, Anxiety, or The Day After series.

Composition is the hardest, most interesting phase for me. I will pin up ideas on my wall, arrange fabric and take it down over and over until I find a direction that I am satisfied with. I can work all day on one part of a composition, think that I have solved a particular design problem only to come in the next morning and rip it all apart. This may happen over and over for weeks.

I document each composition in case I want to go back to it. My phone is full of images that have been pulled apart, and I find it fascinating to see how a piece has morphed from one idea to another. I used to feel bad that my final piece composition really has little resemblance to my initial thoughts. But, this is just part of the process.

One has to be willing to divert from a plan. Just recently I almost finished a piece on Iceland’s roofs. Something was not quite right and I kept fussing at it, looking at it over and over. In the end I took a 20” x 70” piece and whacked it down to 20” x 24”. I’m still not happy with it and it is quite likely that this piece will not live. I spent hours and hours of work, but in the final analysis, it just was a mess of pretty fabric and not a meaningful composition.

If I had to choose a slogan that captures the initial design process it would come from Stephen Sondheim, “A blank canvas. So many possibilities.”

Which part of the design process is your favorite? Which part is a challenge for you?

I love the composition part and hate binding and adding sleeves. 

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve received?

I really like a quote from artist Nick Cave that I saw recently. “Don’t worry about failures, make them – all the messy mistakes – and categorize them as your process towards greatness. Build the feeling of fearlessness in yourself.”

How has your creativity evolved over the years? What triggered the evolution to new media/kinds of work/ways of working?

For years I talked how much I disliked surface design. I preferred to work exclusively in piecing hand dyed cotton. I did not like making a mess.

About 8-9 years ago I started working with a different kind of fabric that I happened upon, one side is glossy and one side is dull. I have worked with that fabric almost exclusively now rarely touching my hand dyes.

I also veered into the world of surface design as I started to experiment with this cotton, painting it, distressing it, pleating it, cutting it up. I have now embraced the messy world of painting even though it is something I sweared I would not enter. I just found it necessary to achieve the effects I wanted.

I absolutely love focusing my energies on pushing the limits of this particular fabric. It is only 13” wide so I have had to develop different production techniques to work on larger pieces. The fabric is rather stiff and becomes even stiffer when I pleat or paint it- so I have to quilt it in pieces and then assemble the pieces into a larger work. This presents all kinds of challenges.  

Do you enter juried shows? Do you approach your work differently for these venues?

I do enter juried shows but I have to make sure the criterion fit my work. I look at who is jurying a show. Are they likely to understand my art?

I never make work specifically for a show. If I have something that fits, fine. There are many times that size constraints limit my entries or I do not have work that fits a particular theme.

I am getting more particular about which shows I will enter. If it is being hung someplace where I will never get to I probably will not enter it. I will not enter a show where the work is improperly handled. I do not want my pieces hung on sheets or fabric. If the venue is not professional I avoid entering. 

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

I keep track of every show I enter on an excel spreadsheet. I almost always enter Quilt National, QAQ, Art Quilt Elements and FiberARts International.

Has rejection ever affected your creative process? Explain. 

I try not to let it affect me. As I get older, juried shows are less important and I try to obtain solo or joint exhibits where I can show more of my work at one time. I understand that my art will not touch everybody and that rejection is not a measure of its worth.

After having juried shows I understand how political the process can be, how sometimes the best work does not get it, that the quality of a show may be determined by a target size a venue wants, and that juror bias operates even among the best. 

What do you do to keep yourself motivated and interested in your work? 

Visit museums. Read. 

Tell us more about mentoring as a best ongoing practice.

I currently mentor 4 different artists. I speak with each artist for an hour either once or twice a month and interact online to answer questions.

I have found that mentoring is always a two way street and that I always get back as much as I give. I find that after a mentoring session I check to see whether I am following my own advice and if not, I try to reorient myself. For instance I often find that quilters are loath to cut into a piece of fabric that they love or that comes in limited supply. In a session we might work together to build up the courage to slice into that fabric. After a session like that I feel like I have the courage to go in and cut up my own favorite piece of cloth.

Mentoring gives me the time to think about issues more clearly, to better define my own goals. 

Where can people see your work?

judykirpich.com. I will be sharing an exhibit with another artist at the International Quilt Museum in January. 

Interview posted May 2024