Q&A: Tamarack Foundation Stresses Importance Of Art During Social Distancing

In March, West Virginia saw 90,000 unemployment claims. In a typical month the state averages 5,000. According to the U.S. Labor Department, one of the industries hit the hardest nationwide is arts and entertainment — a sector that depends heavily on social events, something that is nearly impossible during the coronavirus pandemic.

We recently spoke with West Virginian artists to see how they are coping, and we wanted to check in with the Tamarack Foundation For The Arts, which directly supports nearly 2,000 artists in the state. They have recently promoted their interactive newsletter to help West Virginian artists still feel a sense of community.

Renee Margocee, executive director of the foundation, talks with folkways reporter Caitlin Tan about the project and the future of the artistic world in the time of social distancing.

***Editor’s Note: The following has been lightly edited for clarity.

Tan: So, I was looking through and I was seeing that the Tamarack Foundation for the Arts’ goals include, “showcasing and encouraging creative and professional development for artists in West Virginia.” And I’m curious how you foresee that happening going forward, as long as social distancing is still a thing?

Margocee: Well, like everyone in America, and actually across the world, we’re pivoting to deal with the issues at hand with what we have available to us. And I’m fortunate to have a reenergized newsletter that’s been coming out for the past month. And that is the perfect vehicle for us to continue showcasing West Virginian artists and how they are responding in creative ways to this stressful time for sure.

Tan: Another thing in the newsletter that stood out to me that you wrote was, “art is essential for personal wellbeing and connection to our shared humanity.” Can you expand on that, and then also talk about what art can mean for people in these times, even if you’re not a professional artist?

Margocee: Art has served over the years, for hundreds of years, as a way for us to understand our mental states, and that right now we are swinging between happiness and joy and connectedness, and also distress, anxiety and isolation. So I think that in this time when the lines are blurred between our enjoyment of taking a break from our overly scheduled lives, and the very scary reason for the change of routine, that spending a bit of time on creative endeavors provides us a safe place for processing this. We need art now more than ever to help us really remain connected to our reality and to find a way to process what this new reality is like and how to best move forward together.

Tan: I know Tamarack has a lot of exciting upcoming projects. Namely, what came to mind was the 2020 Emerging Artist Fellowship in West Virginia. And for those who don’t know, that includes early career artists that the foundation has picked to help foster and grow into professional artists. So, I’m curious, what is that project look like going forward?

Margocee: Well, it’s been changed, of course. Of the five artists, two of them have had to leave situations abruptly. So, these are really heartbreaking moments where we hate for, again, professional development to be cut short, but I have to say that everyone collectively in this cohort is really responding positively. And one thing that I’ve really been impressed with these young artists is not once have they really complained or expressed any sorrow about what’s happening to them personally, but they’re all finding ways to continue creating.

Tan: It does seem that this is kind of a trying time for artists in a way, but one thing I noticed in the newsletter — a quote that stood out to me — is that “we’re all artists in residence now.” Can you expand on that?

Margocee: We are trying to share that story out to reframe this situation in as positive of a way as possible. And so, a residency is really built around the ability to remove yourself from everyday life and just to focus on your art making. So, while we are not necessarily all choosing to be artists in residence, that is how we’re framing it up.

Tan: Do you have any advice for artists who might be struggling right now, who are having a hard time coping and finding inspiration? Do you have anything you would say to them?

Margocee: I would say, even more important now than ever, we really have to think about our mental health, our mental states, and that oftentimes people think that prioritizing art in a time of crisis is counterintuitive, but I suggest and really advocate that embracing the arts now is more important than ever. I would say that during this time that art should not be seen as a frivolity, but as an essential for our wellbeing.

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts, and culture.  

Making a Living as a Traditional Weaver in Appalachia

Editor’s Note: It is with great sadness to report that Jane Gilchrist passed away Friday, March 8, 2019. The West Virginia Public Broadcasting team offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to Jane’s family and friends. Click here for Jane’s obituary.

Most Americans typically wear clothes made in factories overseas. The same goes for fabrics in homes, such as potholders, rugs and blankets. But it has not always been this way.

Hand weavers once made a majority of people’s fabrics and rugs using old wooden fashioned looms that one can often find today in a historical museum. But as the textile industry became more industrialized, hand weavers no longer were a necessity.

However, there are some people who still remember the craft of weaving and even practice it today. One such person is Jane Gilchrist.

Her shop is just off a narrow neighborhood road in Stonewood, West Virginia. It is a small, brick store with a sign titled, “Loomy Ladi Handwovens.” 

The Art of Weaving

When she is weaving, Gilchrist sits on a sheepskin covered bench facing the loom.

On the day I visited, she wore a green top patterned with teal petunia petals. Her nails were painted a rouge pink.

Credit Caitlin Tan
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Jane weaving a pot holder. She said she is drawn to weaving because it is a relaxing, repetitive movement that still requires focus.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with colorful yarns, and a hand-woven, baby blue coverlet blanket with little white flowers was on display. In the corner were some of Gilchrist’s square pot holders and scarves for sale.

“So this is the overshot pot holder,” she said. “A real pretty earthy green with a natural warp.”

The small shop is also Gilchrist’s space for creating.

In the center of the room are three wooden looms, and one table loom hanging on the wall. All of them are no bigger than a desk, and each held a different project. Several looms even sat, folded up in the corner.

When she steps on a treadle, or a peddle, a layer of the tightly strung yarn lifts up, which allows her to thread the colored yarn through. With enough threading she will create a tightly woven item, like a pot holder.

‘I Always Knew’

Gilchrist has been weaving as a hobby for almost two decades, but it only recently became her main source of income.

She grew up in Ohio with eight other siblings and not a lot of money. “I was the next to the youngest and I just always felt lost,” she said. “I was the little fat kid without a lot of friends, middle of nowhere living on a farm and I was pretty lonely.”

She made friends with a woman who was quadriplegic, although she had some use of her arms. This woman introduced Gilchrist to weaving.

“She had a big rug loom and she made rugs, and I sat next to her and I got introduced to weaving. I always knew someday I wanted to be a weaver; that just felt right to me.”

Credit Caitlin Tan
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Jane Gilchrest works out of her shop in Stonewood, West Virginia. She recently opened the shop under the name, “Loomy Ladi Handwovens.”

It felt right because weaving is her happy place. Gilchrist said she finds the repetitive motion relaxing, but also stimulating.

“I don’t have time to think about what is or isn’t, the good or the bad, and dwell on things I can’t change and can’t control,” she said.

Later in life, she learned that weaving was a part of her family’s history. She has record that her great-great grandfather used weaving as a source of income during the long, cold West Virginia winters.

Weaving was vital in the early settler days in Appalachia, Gilchrist said, adding that it helped create cloth for clothing and blankets – items that were not yet available in the rural region.

But as clothing became more available during the Industrial Revolution, weaving became a lost art.

“It went from being an essential, ‘you have to do this,’ to being a hobby,” she said.

Gilchrist does her part to help keep an Appalachian tradition alive.

“When I sit down at one of those looms and I start creating a piece of cloth, I feel connected to my ancestors. I feel connected to the people that have come before,” she said.

Over the years Gilchrist has become a reputable weaver. She is part of the Tamarack Foundation, an organization for professional artists that is not easy to get into.

She sells some of her products, like the pot holders, through Tamarack.

She also has her master’s in education, so she has developed several weaving tutorials for classroom settings. In fact, about 60 percent of her income is from teaching weaving.

‘Mug Ruggin’ It’

But her biggest claim to fame is something she calls “Mug Ruggin’ It.”

It is a hand-woven rug for one’s coffee mug. Jane teaches “Mug Ruggin It” as an informal class at several West Virginian art festivals and fairs, where people can weave the rugs themselves. It’s a spinoff of a traditional Appalachian rag rug, just downsized.

Over the past five years,  about 3,000 people have been through the “Mug Ruggin It” program, Gilchrist estimates.

Credit Caitlin Tan
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Jane dying fabric with natural indigo dye. She tries to die her fabrics and threads whenever she can to keep her weaving as traditional as possible.

“I hope when I’m old and decrepit, and I’m walking through a craft show or flea market and I see somebody who’s got their wares for sale and I say, ‘Where’d you learn to weave?’ And they say, ‘Oh, well I went to the Vandalia festival and there were these people who set up these looms. I did this thing called ‘Mug Ruggin’ it’ and I fell in love with weaving.'”

Gilchrist keeps her weaving as traditional as possible. She has even learned to dye her own yarn, as well as spin her own wool – which she has dedicated a decent amount of her living space to. She has a yarn dying station setup near the laundry room, a wool spinner near the T.V. and another loom in the corner.

Some people might caution turning a hobby into a livelihood, but Gilchrist says it’s not work for her. She says she knows she will never get rich off it either, but that’s OK.

“But if I can make the world more creative, and they understand our heritage as we get further and further away from those days, and if I can share that, I think I’ll have done something pretty successful.”

This story is part of an episode of Inside Appalachia that explores traditional folkways. To listen to the full episode click here.

 

 

 

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