Textiles & Paper Collage
The themes of these collages range from the political/social to the personal. They encompass the developmental cycles of life: friendship, family, courtship, death.
Each collage includes a woven fragment from my years as a weaver (1975-1995). Each one includes a portion of a drawing from the art table of one of my students at the Cedar Creek Montessori Day Care in Berkeley, CA (1987-1991).
Spin on Gee's Bend
27” h x 27” w
This is a friend-inspired collage. I asked her: “Will you give me a few quilted scraps? I’ll use those to inspire a piece.” She gave; I made, following the lead of her fabrics. When a ‘top-like’ shape and geometric lines appeared from assembling these discarded fragments, the perfect title seemed to be Spin on Gee’s Bend. I had seen the stunningly modern quilts made by the women of the Gee’s Bend community at the Milwaukee Art Museum and the de Young Museum.
Gee’s Bend is an isolated block of land enclosed on three sides by the Alabama River in rural Wilcox County in Alabama’s Black Belt. The quilts of Gee's Bend are among the most important African American visual and cultural contributions to the history of art within the United States. Arlonzia Pettway, Annie Mae Young and Mary Lee Bendolph are among some of the most notable quilters from Gee's Bend. Many of the residents in the community can trace their ancestry back to enslaved people from the Pettway Plantation. William Arnett, a folk art collector, historian and curator, brought these artistic quilts to our attention with his Souls Grown Deep Foundation in Atlanta, Georgia. The exhibition titled The Quilts of Gee’s Bend was first shown in 2002. Since then, it has travelled to the most prestigious museums in the United States.
Pilgrimage
23” h x 24” w
At 86, my mother, Ileana R. Soto, fell, unable to get up. She was miraculously rescued by a church member who regularly drove her to church. He found her unconscious and called for help. Paramedics arrived and delivered her to a hospital. Her sacral wounds were so severe that she never returned to her home. She spent over four years in a skilled nursing facility.
I combed every square inch of her home, deciding what to keep … and not to keep. I found her lost wedding rings, a gold chain, the lock of her baby hair — after opening every box, envelope, and container. This ‘pilgrimage’ reflects my experience of the breadth and depth of a mother’s determined life, committed to education, family, and the Spanish language. Through my regular visits from California to her Wisconsin bedside, we rekindled a tender love for one another. Our favorite game: “I love you times two; I love you times ten; I love you times one hundred, and more.”
Most of the elements in this collage were gathered from “Ileana Sr.’s” home during the year in which I cleaned out her home for remodeling in 2003-4.
Luchito, Querido Y Muy Recordado (Luchito, Loved and Well Remembered)
19” h x 22” w
An homage to my father, Jose Luis Soto.
The condolences poured in upon his death, December 6, 1968:
Meta, a neighbor:
“We want you to know we understand and care”
Clara, a student in his Spanish class:
“He turned what might have been a routine class experience into a real and valuable adventure”
Antonieta y Lucila, his sisters:
Las hermanas dicen “’Lucho’, querido y bien recordado”
Ileana R. Soto, his wife:
“He was handsome, yes, but I cared more about his character”
At the Water's Edge
28” h x 24” w
I photographed the smell and the beauty of Lake Michigan which hugs the eastern shores of the state of Wisconsin. There I mused about my paternal ancestors’ journeys from Vizcaya and Jaen, Spain to the western coast of Peru. My father migrated from Arequipa, Peru to the United States. My maternal ancestors travelled from Romania to New York and then Wisconsin. I travelled from these shores, east to Baltimore and then west to Seattle and finally, San Francisco.
None of us could anticipate the unplanned occurrences we would encounter along the migration journey, no matter how precise the planning. There was love, marriage, births, tragic deaths, and losses. There were emotions of joy, shame, guilt, disappointment, deep mourning and deep love, and secrets.
In the collage are two sisters, Maria and myself. We didn’t grow up together but finally, as adults, we found one another. Now we know and care about each other, sharing in each other’s lives.
Amidst the Fall of Footprints
24” h x 26” w
Yellow-green drifts to the forest floor
Amidst the fall of footprints
Red lays spectacularly on the forest floor
Luminous even without sun
River cobble rests beneath the forest floor
A foundation for organic texture
Rain gently envelopes them
As they create memories to sustain them between footsteps
—Ileana Soto, 1999
And Now, Even She Hears It
27” h x 24” w
No one wished this upon her
The tragedies were great
The power of the secret strong
That she lost her voice.
She’s worked hard to regain that voice
And now, even she hears it.
—Ileana Soto, March, 1993
50 is a Good Age to Get Your License
27” h x 22” w
At the age of 50, I earned my California Marriage and Family Therapist (MFT) license, the culmination of six years of study and practice. I wanted to mark this special occasion with a collage. This piece depicts the visual and information format of my written notes for taking the oral section of the MFT exam. Thank you to those 50 or more willing participants who practiced with me! I passed on my first try, scheduled for October 31st (Halloween), 1993.
Petropolis After the Nuclear Age
22” h x 24” w
On a visit to Karen Aqua’s studio in Cambridge, MA, I asked for a hand-painted figure from one of her animations from which to build a piece. We chose a figure from Ground Zero/Sacred Ground. During a residency in Roswell, NM, Karen worked with First Nation youth. They were surrounded by Native American petroglyphs that had been irradiated by underground U.S. military atomic bomb testing. In my imagination, those sacred petroglyph figures are “screaming” and tossed in the air by nuclear radiation propulsion.
Karen Aqua was a vibrant, talented, award-winning animation artist, the wife of my husband’s cousin, Ken Field. She died, beloved, and too young, of ovarian cancer in 2011.
Collaboration with E. Pine
19” h x 21” w
This is my first “sewn collage,” a collaboration with my artist friend, Ellie Pine, done in her Portland, OR studio.
Line that curved, undulated, became feathered brushstroke
Then dove into bold expression, revealing form:
This, you taught me.
Color that blended, merged, became subtle artistry
Then dazzled into explicit expression, illuminating form:
This, you rekindled in me.
Texture that soothed, invited, became alluring warmth
Then clarified into exquisite detail, sheltering form:
This, we shared.
Word that danced, teased, became graceful song
Then shifted into deep understanding, dispersing form:
You, I miss.
—Ileana Soto, 1996