Hale is probably best known for “No Hate in My Holler,” a screenprint she designed in 2017 that has spread across Appalachia on TV shirts, tote bags and even billboards.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Hale: We had several community meetings to see what the projects were going to be about. And Granny Shores kept coming up: Granny Shores, Granny Shores. I found out that she was a midwife in the very early days of Pound who delivered over 1,000 babies. She was born in 1867 and she passed away in 1945. Her husband was a doctor and she went apparently to some of his appointments with him. That’s how she kind of got into becoming a midwife. She boasted that she never lost a mother and she lost very few babies. Basically everybody early on in Pound, Virginia, was delivered by this woman, Granny Shores.
Adams: In this Granny Shores mural, you see her, but a lot of it’s dominated by this very prominent quilt. Can you tell me more about that?
Hale: Whenever I do a piece of public art, if I’m working with the community, I want the community to be involved. I cut all these pieces of polytab, which is basically parachute material, and we had a community painting day. We let people from the community come and they got to sit down and fill out the quilt any way they wanted to. It was kind of like a modern day quilting bee, I guess.
They could sit there with their own little quilt square and decide how they wanted to make it. It was really cool to see what the community members came up with. I knew once they were installed on the mural itself, that all of these pieces, even though they were very different, would make a cohesive quilt. Just like a community, you know, we’re all different and we can work together and make this place that is vibrant and colorful.
Adams:I wanted to ask you about “No Hate in My Holler.” How did you first come up with that design?
Hale: In 2017, I was working with Appalachian Media Institute at Appalshop. We were working with youth, and we got word that a group of neo-Nazis were coming to recruit in Pikeville, which is about an hour from here. One of the youths suggested that we have an art-in-response day, which I thought was awesome. The night beforehand, this phrase just popped into my head: “No hate in my holler.” I do a lot of printmaking, I do a lot of block printing.
The next day we had the art-in-response day, and I just sat down, sketched it out, cut a block, carved it and printed it. I posted it on my Facebook, and it kind of blew up. People really took to it and identified with it. For the last five years it just keeps on cycling and growing — and it’s not always been for the best reasons. Sometimes when something horrible happens, there’s an influx of desire for more t-shirts and stuff. I always donate at least 25 percent of the proceeds from any of the merch sales of “No Hate in My Holler” to nonprofits working toward equality in the region.
Adams: I think it’s like the best of art, in that it’s taken on its own life once you set it free in the world. Now this design is five years old. What do you think it means today?
Hale: Hopefully now we’re at a point where this does not need to be said anymore. And there’s always something new that happens that, okay, so this does need to be said again, or reiterated in some way. “No Hate in My Holler” is probably the piece of artwork that I made that I’m most proud of. If you want to know something about me, look at that piece, and that should tell you all that you need to know.
——
Since this interview was recorded, eastern Kentucky was inundated with historic flooding. The floods saturated Hale’s studio and Roundabout Records, the record store owned by her family. They’ve since relaunched the business with a new name in a new location in Whitesburg, Kentucky. It’s now called “Sisyphus Records.” Its motto? “Let’s try this again.”
The record store is located in EpiCentre Arts’ gallery space on Main Street in Whitesburg.
“We love our town and we never planned on leaving,” Hale said.
Dede Styles in North Carolina uses common roadside plants to make natural dyes for fabrics. She teaches the craft, but it’s also part of a bigger mission for Styles. Folkways Reporter Rebecca Williams brings us this story.
This story originally aired in the July 14, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.
Once in a golden hourI cast to earth a seed.Up there came a flower,The people said, a weed.
— Alfred Tennyson, "The Flower"
On a rainy Sunday morning in Swannanoa, North Carolina, Dede Styles and I are getting ready to run across two lanes of highway traffic, trucks and cars whizzing by at 65 miles an hour. We’re here to harvest sumac berries that grow on the hilly highway median.
Styles is passionate about what most people would call weeds. She’s a 77-year-old traditional artist who makes natural fabric dyes, and she loves working with the roots, leaves and berries of common roadside plants.
I first met Styles years ago, when volunteering at a local nonprofit. But this is the first time I have been with her to collect dye weeds.
Eying a break between approaching cars, Styles yells, “Okay, go!”
We run across the wet asphalt and reach an embankment dotted with bushes and stubby trees. “I might climb on my hands and knees,” Styles says, scrambling up the hill. She leads me to a cluster of sumac trees.
I drive by this spot a lot, sometimes two or more times a day, but I think this is the first time I’ve actually noticed what is growing here. The trees are heavy with cones of dark red sumac berries, which we clip and drop into plastic bags. “These are real pretty ones,” says Styles. “They don’t have any black. Look at that. Hot dog.”
Soon, the traffic starts to pick up, so we slide down the hill, wait for a gap between passing cars and run across the highway to Styles’ truck, parked on the shoulder.
She Started Off Spinning
Making natural dyes wasn’t her first love. When Styles was a little girl, growing up here in the Swannanoa Valley, she used to tag along when her grandmother gave weaving demonstrations. But it was not the weaving that fascinated her. She liked to watch the women at their spinning wheels, turning wool into yarn.
“I would be watching the lady spin,” says Styles, “And then I’d come home and … I’d try to do that on my spinning wheel.”
Then one day she saw someone demonstrating how to make natural dyes out of plants that grew locally — weeds, basically. And for Styles, that was it. “I said, so what for spinning. This is too much fun. This going out and just getting stuff that people think is weeds, stew it up in the pot, put your yarn in there and make the colors.”
She’s been doing it ever since.
Let The Squirrels Have Them
The unmowed yard in front of Styles’ home is filled with drifts of wildflowers, tall grasses and weeds — the perfect spot to grow plant materials for natural dyes.
Today, she’s invited me over to watch her prep black walnut hulls she picked up under the tree in her yard.
The walnuts are green and leathery, kind of like hard tennis balls. Styles puts one on a plank, smashes it with a hammer and separates the hull from the nut.
“See, this one has a lot of those little white worms. But they don’t hurt your dye,” she says. “So I just throw ‘em in there.” She drops the hull into a bucket. Then she throws the rest of the walnut over her shoulder into the yard. “Let the squirrels have ‘em,” she says.
Later, Styles will lay the hulls on cardboard to dry out in the sun and then boil them to make a deep reddish-brown dye.
It doesn’t always come out the way she expects, though. She shows me some dull grayish yarn hanging inside the house.
“These are experiments,” Styles says, “that aren’t quite working the way we wished they would.”
What color was she going for?
“Purple,” she replies, laughing.
And this just serves as a reminder that natural dyeing is not an exact science, even if you’re an expert like Styles. All sorts of things can change the way your dye colors come out — from the type of pot you use, to where you get your water. A lot of the plants Styles uses for her dyes grow on her land. But sometimes she has to look elsewhere for the plants she needs — like the highway median.
“If I’m gonna go on some land that doesn’t belong to me to pick dye weeds, I try to get permission from the people that own it,” Styles says.
She tells me about a time she decided to pick some broomsedge, which makes a nice yellow dye. The broomsedge was growing on a vacant lot near Black Mountain.
“The lot was covered,” Styles remembers. “It was a pretty good sized lot and it was covered. I didn’t think he’d miss it.”
But he, the owner, came by and asked her what she was doing. “I explained to him that I was getting these weeds and I was gonna make dye out of them.”
She says the owner wasn’t upset. In fact, he asked her for advice on how he could grow grass on the lot to hold down the dirt. Styles told him, “You don’t need to do that. Nature has put here on this lot the very best plant to hold this soil. These broomsedge plants have the deepest roots of any plant around.”
Styles worked out a deal with him to leave the broomsedge alone until she could harvest it in the fall. “I said, ‘Look, if you will not mow it until like November every year, I’ll dye some wool and make you a hat.’”
And she did.
“I made him a hat that was dyed with the broomsedge on his land,” Styles says. “He thought that was great.”
Styles’ interest in protecting local plants goes far beyond her need for dye weeds. She wants people to recognize the important role that these plants play in the ecosystem so that they will become better caretakers of the earth. And one way she spreads the word is by giving natural dye demonstrations across western North Carolina.
Heritage Day At The Folk Art Center
At Heritage Day at the Folk Art Center off the Blue Ridge Parkway, near Asheville, there are dozens of artists demonstrating traditional Appalachian crafts. In her tent, Styles has about 50 skeins of beautifully colored yarn in yellows, greens, blues and purples spread out on a table and hanging from a line.
Off to the side, a big iron pot sits on a propane burner, and every so often, Styles walks over and stirs the dark liquid inside.
“The brown that I’m doing today I made with sumac berries,” she says. “Here’s how they looked after I cooked them, see?”
As Styles describes the plants she uses, a few younger-looking folks drift her way. They are graduate students studying landscape architecture at the University of Tennessee.
Soon they surround Styles, and start to ask questions.
“So, are you worried about, like, anytime in the near future not being able to find what you are looking for?” a student asks.
“I am,” Styles replies. “I am lucky, because I have a big field in front of my house where I can grow a lot of the stuff. But I am even more worried about the insects. And everybody that eats food should care about pollinators.”
“Absolutely,” says another student.
“So, as often as you can in your designs, plant things, native things, that can support the pollinators,” Styles says. “We have to change. Now that there’s so many of us, we have to change how we look at the world or we’re doomed.”
And there it is — her not-so-secret mission to save the planet by getting people interested in local plants and weeds.
But Styles has been the dye lady for a long time. She’s been hauling iron pots and giving outdoor demonstrations for 24 years.
“I’ve been out there in the rain and the snow and the thunderstorms and the lightning and everything,” she says.
And she’s getting a little tired. So Styles tells me she’s taken on an apprentice. She received a Folklife Apprentice grant through the North Carolina Arts Council to mentor a younger artist and teach her all she knows about the craft of natural dyeing.
“I think that the most important thing … not that all the people who see me are going to be dyers,” Styles says. “But what I really hope they take from it is an appreciation of the natural world. That what they thought was a weed can actually do this thing, this beautiful thing.And make them more aware as they move around in their day of what they see on the side of the road.”
To learn more about making natural dyes from native plants, check out the book Wild Mountain Time: Native Dye Plants by Dede Styles and Frederick Park.
For more information about natural dyeing or to learn about upcoming dye demonstrations, visit the Southern Highland Craft Guildin Asheville, North Carolina.
The Folkways Reporting Project is made possible in part with support from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies to the West Virginia Public Broadcasting Foundation. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts and culture.
A mural in Pound, Virginia, depicts Nancy Mullins Shores — a longtime midwife who delivered many of the town’s residents in the 20th century. The mural was designed and painted by Lacy Hale, an eastern Kentucky artist known for painting murals across central Appalachia, including one that garnered controversy for its imagery of an opossum amid pokeweed.
This conversation originally aired in the August 5, 2022 episode of Inside Appalachia.
A mural in Pound, Virginia, depicts Nancy Mullins Shores — a longtime midwife who delivered many of the town’s residents in the 20th century.
Hale is probably most known for “No Hate in My Holler,” a screenprint she designed in 2017 that has spread across Appalachia on TV shirts, tote bags and even billboards.
Inside Appalachia host Mason Adams sat down with Hale to find out more about her mural of Nancy Mullins Shores, and the legacy of “No Hate in My Holler.”
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Hale: We had several community meetings to see what the projects were going to be about. And Granny Shores kept coming up: Granny Shores, Granny Shores. I found out that she was a midwife in the very early days of Pound who delivered over 1,000 babies. She was born in 1867 and she passed away in 1945. Her husband was a doctor and she went apparently to some of his appointments with him. That’s how she kind of got into becoming a midwife. She boasted that she never lost a mother and she lost very few babies. Basically everybody early on in Pound, Virginia, was delivered by this woman, Granny Shores.
Adams: In this Granny Shores mural, you see her, but a lot of it’s dominated by this very prominent quilt. Can you tell me more about that?
Hale: Whenever I do a piece of public art, if I’m working with the community, I want the community to be involved. I cut all these pieces of polytab, which is basically parachute material, and we had a community painting day. We let people from the community come and they got to sit down and fill out the quilt any way they wanted to. It was kind of like a modern day quilting bee, I guess.
They could sit there with their own little quilt square and decide how they wanted to make it. It was really cool to see what the community members came up with. I knew once they were installed on the mural itself, that all of these pieces, even though they were very different, would make a cohesive quilt. Just like a community, you know, we’re all different and we can work together and make this place that is vibrant and colorful.
Adams:I wanted to ask you about “No Hate in My Holler.” How did you first come up with that design?
Hale: In 2017, I was working with Appalachian Media Institute at Appalshop. We were working with youth, and we got word that a group of neo-Nazis were coming to recruit in Pikeville, which is about an hour from here. One of the youths suggested that we have an art-in-response day, which I thought was awesome. The night beforehand, this phrase just popped into my head: “No hate in my holler.” I do a lot of printmaking, I do a lot of block printing.
The next day we had the art-in-response day, and I just sat down, sketched it out, cut a block, carved it and printed it. I posted it on my Facebook, and it kind of blew up. People really took to it and identified with it. For the last five years it just keeps on cycling and growing — and it’s not always been for the best reasons. Sometimes when something horrible happens, there’s an influx of desire for more t-shirts and stuff. I always donate at least 25 percent of the proceeds from any of the merch sales of “No Hate in My Holler” to nonprofits working toward equality in the region.
Adams: I think it’s like the best of art, in that it’s taken on its own life once you set it free in the world. Now this design is five years old. What do you think it means today?
Hale: Hopefully now we’re at a point where this does not need to be said anymore. And there’s always something new that happens that, okay, so this does need to be said again, or reiterated in some way. “No Hate in My Holler” is probably the piece of artwork that I made that I’m most proud of. If you want to know something about me, look at that piece, and that should tell you all that you need to know.
——
Since this interview was recorded, eastern Kentucky was inundated with historic flooding. The floods saturated Hale’s studio and Roundabout Records, the record store owned by her family. They’ve since relaunched the business with a new name in a new location in Whitesburg, Kentucky. It’s now called “Sisyphus Records.” Its motto? “Let’s try this again.”
The record store is located in EpiCentre Arts’ gallery space on Main Street in Whitesburg.
“We love our town and we never planned on leaving,” Hale said.
Our newest production explores the life and work of David Riffle. The hour-long television program will air Monday, Nov. 21 at 9 p.m. on West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s TV and YouTube channels.
Updated on Wednesday, Nov. 23, 2022 at 5:30 p.m.
CHARLESTON, WV — WVPB Television proudly announces the premiere of Finding David Riffle, West Virginia Artist. The hour-long television program will air Monday, Nov. 21 at 9 p.m. on West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s TV and YouTube channels.
“David Riffle is an artist who is humble, fun-loving, non-verbal — but there is more to him than meets the eye,“ states the film’s director, John Nakashima. “With the help of his friends and family, WV State University Art Professor Molly Erlandson, artist Harold Edwards, daughter Nora Riffle, artist and former gallery director at The Art Store, Ellie Schaul and the former Clay Center curator Ric Ambrose, we’re able to learn more about his fascinating work.”
Finding David Riffle, West Virginia Artist — Documentary
Riffle’s art is suffused with a strong sense of place. Most of his early inspiration came from the area around his home of 25 years, a sixty-foot trailer in Poca, Putnam County, where he moved in 1975 after graduating from West Virginia State College. As depicted in his art, this trailer represents a level of security and solitude in a busy, insecure world.
Riffle’s work contains other recurring images as well, including the Great Blue Heron, catfish, the growth of vines, mountains, and water. This imagery sometimes appears in what commentators have called “fantasy” settings. He has also created works depicting landmark architecture unique to West Virginia.
Throughout his work, Riffle reveals a strong connection to his home. Riffle’s artwork is housed in collections at the Clay Center’s Juliet Art Museum and Marshall University, among others.
Praise for “Finding David Riffle, West Virginia Artist”:
Paula Clendenin, Artist: “A wonderful tribute to an amazing artist and human…so loved it.”
Colleen Anderson, Poet/Writer: “Wonderful in every way.”
Ona resident Linda Childers says she hopes to use her art to promote love for West Virginia and encourage people to explore the state for themselves.
In 2020, she hosted an art show with 30 paintings in her yard. Childers said most of her paintings, besides the florals and occasional landscapes, are images of Huntington or Marshall University.
“I wanted to do something that had a statewide appeal,” she said.
She said she was working on a puzzle last year that showed the artist’s brush strokes and that led to her creating a map of West Virginia with over 130 miniature paintings of cool things to do in the Mountain State.
“I’ve had it manufactured into a thousand-piece, 24-inch by 30-inch puzzle,” Childers said. “My husband, Rick, and I rented a 16-foot Budget truck and hauled them back from Kansas City, Missouri, this month, and they’re already in eight shops from Huntington to Charleston.”
Childers said her plan is to have them in gift shops across the state.
“Selling puzzles is just a part of my puzzle project. My goal is to promote tourism, learning and love of West Virginia and to encourage people to turn their ideas and dreams into real things,” she said.
With the help of videographer Bobby Lee Messer, Childers is creating two video series.
“One series, Travel WV with Linda, will be short videos shot as I travel with friends or my husband all over the state to every single place I’ve painted on the map,” she said. “And having fun and delivering puzzles. My goal is to educate people about these places, and I’m hoping that will in turn encourage them to travel to places they may live just an hour or two or three away from and have never been.”
Childers says the other series will be called Create WV.
“I’ll be interviewing West Virginians who have created something — a business, a cleanup project, a garden, a book club — to encourage people who have an idea, a dream or a spark of a create notion to follow that to fruition,” she said. “I know that fear and doubt can stop people from following their dreams, and our state needs the creativity of its people to help it continue to grow and prosper.”
Childers said they started filming the videos recently in Charleston at J.Q. Dickinson Salt-Works and Taylor Books.
“It was absolutely fabulous,” she said. “This coming week I’m going to Fayetteville.”
More information is online at artbylinda.org.
“I’ve turned my website into my puzzle project hub,” she said.
You can also find her on Facebook at Art by Linda.
Childers says in recent years, her art has moved away from the decorative purpose to involve social engagement and political motives.
“I love to paint and I love to create, so I look for ways to combine my art with making a difference in people’s lives,” she said.
Childers said when she quit teaching in 2012 she was able to totally focus on her art.
“At that same time, I had always been curious about politics, but never gave it any attention,” Childers said. “I started listening to ‘The Daily Show’ while doing paintings and started to become aware of politics.”
In 2015, Bernie Sanders ran for president and Childers said she realized she was a progressive.
“So then I realized I just can’t be painting,” she said. “I was so concerned about the climate crisis that for a while I would put on my Facebook page all of my proceeds would go to issues related to the climate crisis.”
Childers said she realized how privileged she is and so she wanted to help those who are not. Her front yard art show was a way to do that.
“Last year I had an art show with 30 paintings in my yard,” she said. “I let people who bought paintings make the choice to have the proceeds go to the local food bank, to the animal shelter or to a progressive political candidate for U.S. Congress, Hilary Turner. I got $800 for the food bank, $500 for the animal shelter and a couple thousand for Hilary Turner.”
But Childers said her West Virginia Puzzle Project is her long-term assignment.
“I have lots more of this great state to see,” she said. “I plan to go to all the places I’ve painted on this map and to share my adventures. In fact, if I couldn’t fit it on the map, but it’s cool or interesting, I’ll also be going there.”
Sometimes creativity requires breaking away from the normal routine and focusing on one’s work. Now in its sixth year, the New River Gorge Creative Residency at Lafayette Flats in Fayetteville, W. Va. allows writers and visual artists a quiet place to stay and make art.
When Shawn Means and Amy McLaughlin opened LaFayette Flats as a boutique vacation rental space in Fayetteville, they wanted to “change the narrative” about the state. They began by decorating their four rental suites with West Virginia art and loading shelves with books by West Virginia authors.
“We realized that our bookings were going to be much lighter during the winter and we were going to have some space,” Means said. “We thought, ‘How can we use this to better promote the arts?’”
So in January 2015, they decided to host a writer-in-residence.
“We continued with just having the writer-in-residence for the next three years. And then actually last year, we changed it up a little bit and decided to expand it to visual artists as well,” McLaughlin said.
The first several years, the program was a three month long residency. This year, they decided to allow creatives to come for shorter stays. Applicants for the residency had been almost exclusively out of state, but those changes appealed to more West Virginians. This season, they are three creatives, all from West Virginia, staying for one month each.
Matt Browning, a Charleston, W. Va.-based author just finished his one-month residency at the end of December.
“At the risk of sounding corny and cliché, I hoped this experience would change me. I learned very early on that it was going to do that,” he said. “Being here has really allowed me to rediscover my creativity. I won’t finish this book that I’m writing while I’m here. You know, four weeks isn’t enough time to write a novel, but I’m hoping to have probably 75 percent of a first draft done.”
Means said the key to the success of this program has been the reaction, and the reception, the creatives have received from the entire community.
“The Fayetteville community is very welcoming anyway, and they seem to have gone over and above welcoming our creative-in-residences. They’ve had people who recognize them on the street just from social media posts and welcome them to the town,” he said. “A lot of local businesses think of the residency as their’s, not just ours at Lafayette Flats. They think of it as the Fayetteville residency.”
You can find out more about the New River Gorge Creative Residency program at Lafayette Flats in Fayetteville on their website. They will begin taking applications for next winter in August.