Plain and Simple

“Twenty years ago I walked into Latham's Men's Store in Sag Harbor, New York, and saw old quilts used as a background for men's tweeds. I had never seen quilts like that. Odd color combinations. Deep saturated solid colors: purple, mauve, green, brown, magenta, electric blue, red. Simple geometric forms: squares, diamonds, rectangle. A patina of use emanated from them. They spoke directly to me. They knew something. They went straight to my heart.”

                                               Sue Bender (Plain and Simple)

Thus began Sue Bender's little book about her journey to Amish country to learn about their quilts. As with all art, quilts have a way of grabbing hold of you and not letting go. Amish women make quilts from the same fabrics they use to make their clothing, so there is a limited palette. And they use only simple geometric shapes and solid colors. You will never see a bold plaid or even a flash of batik in an Amish quilt. But oh, my, what they can do with those few colors and shapes!

The quilt above is one of my mother's unquilted tops. It is made entirely from diamonds and triangles, but you can see what is possible with such simplicity when colors and textures are varied. I pull this top out about once a year and study it. It helps me to better understand my mother. She was a woman of her time, who married at eighteen, seven days before the bombing of Pearl Harbor. By the time my father shipped out a year later, she had a baby girl. She never worked outside the home, and was just about as unsophisticated as anyone I have ever known. Her name was Virginia.

In the years of my growing up with two sisters, one who was severely disabled with cerebral palsy, Mother spent her days working—cooking three meals a day, washing the never-ending laundry that had to be hung on lines outside because we didn't have a clothes dryer. I still remember our crinoline petticoats hanging, stiff with starch, on the backyard clothesline. Except for shoes and coats, she made all our clothes. Sewing was as close to a creative life as she came, and most of that was out of necessity. I remember her first electric sewing machine, a gift from my father in the 1950's—a White, in a little wooden case. It was still in her house, held together with duct-tape, when she died five years ago—and it still worked!

When my sister, Jerrie, and I were finally out of the house, Mother began to make things just for the delight she took in making them. This quilt top is a case in point. It's huge! Larger than a king-sized bed. And every stitch is hand-made. It seems as though she started and just couldn't stop. It is bold, and simple, and breath taking in its size and color. It grabs hold of me and speaks directly to my heart. I hope it speaks to yours, too.

Jane