Art Matters

‘With war raging and children dying, and the slow waltz of extremism on our doorstep and within our cities and towns, art can seem ephemeral, unnecessary and the preserve of the lucky few. It may seem indulgent even, and for those of us in city centres and with fancy Wren churches (hashtag Piccadilly Priest), it may seem like a right more than a privilege. But those of us here today do not need to be told that art matters, that it shakes us from slumber, that it keeps us sensitised and sensitive and that it draws us back to question earth-bound mercy, the earth-pretence of who is pure in heart, the earth-renditions of the peacemakers. All of these things are turned upside down by Jesus and all of these things are turned upside down by art’.

This is very, very late ‘Thank You’ to the lovely Jane Chipp, who not only sent me much appreciated photos and kind words during Varnishing Day (I just couldn’t face going) at the Royal Academy of Arts earlier this year, but also posted the notes from the ‘Service For Artists’ (extract above) at St James’s Church on Piccadilly (an annual sermon for exhibitors), given to her its author, the equally lovey (as it turns out) Associate Priest, Mariama Ifode-Bleasein. She is a huge asset to the church, and no mistake.

I get a mention in said service (sort of), ‘For some of you, this will be your first attempt at submitting your work for the Summer Exhibition, for others it will be your thirty-second’.

I’m not a big fan of religions, but Jesus has always seemed like an incorruptible bloke who would make a good job of running the country.

Read the full sermon, ‘The world as it is, is not as the world should be’, below…

Smash Thatcher

Christopher Madden is a County Durham born artist who lives in London. We were born in the same hospital. I was unaware of his existence until a few weeks ago.

In 1979, Chris drew a cartoon of Thatcher which was then used by the Socialist Workers Party for placards and posters. Other people copied the image for their own personal banners. In 1980, one such person drew the image, wrote ‘SMASH THATCHER’ underneath, and carried it to protest against the closure of Consett Steelworks (image above, full credits below). The Steelworks closed in 1980, with a loss of 3000 jobs. One of many closures, as Thatcher continued her axe-wielding across the North. The protest was photographed and printed in the Northern Echo, which is where I found the image. In 2022, I stitched it to ‘Shifting to the Moon’, a piece about greed and short-sightedness, the ridiculousness of the monarchy, how history keeps repeating itself, and how the posh lads are always in charge.

I grew up in Spennymoor which is 10 miles from Consett, and very similar. Nobody in my hometown liked Thatcher. Understandably. I’d never knowingly met a tory until I moved South.

In 2024, I submitted ‘Shifting To The Moon’ for consideration for the Royal Academy Summer Show. It was accepted. Alice Fisher, from the Observer, wrote an article about it, on account of me unsuccessfully trying to get work into the Summer Show for 30 years.

Chris read the article, recognised his cartoon, and got in touch via Instagram. Turns out he has a history of Summer Show rejections, too.

Credits:

Image 1- Consett Steel Workers’ protests, 1980. Northern Echo. Photographer uncredited.

Image 4 - Me with my work at the RA. Photo by Cassie Candle.

Image 5 - Chris’s original cartoon. A screenshot from his Instagram feed.

What I Think I've Learned About Printing

I was a print* snob. I did not reproduce my work. My business cards are individually made, all unique. When I make greetings cards, each is a one-off.

Last year, I started to rethink my thoughts. Hand stitching takes ruddy ages, and is therefore expensive. Prints of said hand stitching are a more affordable option.

With the help of the lads at The Weavers Factory, I found Klein Imaging in Manchester. A top-drawer outfit with all the eco-creds. They took fantastic photographs**, showing every tiny thread, of my Exile Textiles (above) and RA piece. The balls started rolling for some potential sales.

Nine months later, despite having a gorgeous product, I have only sold nine. I’m yet to break even, after the rail fares to Manchester and photography.

I have not given up, and have just added a new print to my shop. I’m hoping it could enable a partial ease-off on my zero-hours, minimum wage day-jobs.

I knew sod all, but this is what I think I’ve learned:

1. Good quality giclée prints, produced in an ethical environment, are expensive.

2. You need to do a lot of marketing. Probably more than I’m comfortable with.

3. You can’t take anything for granted. The RA piece had massive publicity on the BBC with Joe Lycett. I’ve sold one print.

4. Find a photographer and printer near home. That said, I’m sticking with Klein.

5. Keep your edition run low. With my first prints I insisted on a limited edition of 500. This is considered a bit ridiculous. Even Grayson does less. My new print will be a limited edition of 50.

6. Keep it simple. I offered ALL the sizes, but only the smallest (A3, £75) has sold, so far. I’ve decided on two sizes for the new print, but already I’m thinking I should’ve committed to the bigger one, which is so much more impactful.

Buy my prints here.

*I’m talking about reproductions, not printmaking, which is an artform in itself.

**Shout out to Phil Shelly.

Image: Exile Textile 3. Copyright, Alison Aye, 2024.

Family Affair

This piece is about the ridiculousness of the monarchy, and how it was built on the backs of working people, and how my feminism is conflicted by three privileged and powerful leaders. The class system, inherited wealth and the common-wealth, it’s about that too. It’s also about Usain Bolt’s orange shoes being worth 20k, and him not being able to catch the person in Croydon who ran off with them. I tried various legs on Elizabeth, Sly Stone’s were made to measure. I need to credit my husband, who came up with ‘Family Affair’.

61. Family Affair

Hand-stitched paper to tea towel

37 x 31cm unframed, 46 x 41cm framed (by The Framing Room)

Queen Elizabeth II with Charles and Anne Balmoral, 28th September 1952. Bromide Print, NPG 1616. Photo by Lisa Sheridan (mother of Dinah Sheridan* and grandmother of Jenny Hanley, Magpie presenter). Cut from Coronation Souvenir. Printed by LTA Robinson Ltd, London. *I have a soft spot for Dinah Sheridan, in that she is in one of the most joyous film moments of all time. The bit in The Railway Children where they have apple pie for breakfast.

Queen Victoria Alexander Bassano 1887 (1882). NPG x8753. For Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. Cut from Kings and Queens by Ronald Pearsall, Tiger Books 1986.

Queen Elizabeth I c1588. Unknown artist. N. Looks like a copy of the Armada Portrait. Cut from Heritage of Britain, Reader’s Digest 1975.

Trousers of Sly Stone, Frank Driggs Collection. Cut from Rock Stars by Timothy White. Columbus Books, 29 Elmfield Road, Bromley, 1984.

Large Feet belong to Usain Bolt. Cut from the i newspaper (16.4.22). Photographer uncredited. The orange Puma running shoes (worth £20k, according to the BBC) were stolen in London in 2014.

Small Feet and Hand belong to Prince William (red shoes) and Prince Harry (blue shoes and hand) Majorca 1987. Photo by Jayne Fincher. Cut from William, The People’s Prince by Ian Lloyd, Pavilion 2003.

Family Affair will be part of the ING Discerning Eye exhibition at the Mall Galleries, from 17th - 26th November. All works are for sale, and continue to be so online until 31st December.

Please note that I do not reproduce physical images to stitch, but use already printed materials. The paper comes from discarded books, newspapers, magazines, calendars and the like. Most of the books I cut are beyond repair, the rest are beyond my respect.

Shifting To The Moon

68. Shifting To The Moon, 2022

Hand-stitched paper to tea towel

60 x 44cm unframed, 62 x 47cm framed (by The Framing Room, with maple and UV glass)

‘Shifting’ is a Durham colloquialism, meaning ‘to move house’. I grew up in a car-free environment, and people often carried furniture by hand, from one house to another. Everybody helped. I have a picture, somewhere, of my dad transporting Uncle David’s couch by wheelbarrow, or ‘barra’ as he calls it.

Moon: From the film La Voyage Dans La Lune, 1902, by George Méliès. The first ever science fiction film. From the book by Jules Verne. Michaut/ Lucien Tainguy. Cut from 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, Steven Jay Schneider, Cassell 2003.

Monkey: Sam, Dec 1959. Nasa Little Joe Test Programme. Hulton Getty Picture Collection. Nick Yapp.

Robot: Alpha, July 1932. Invented by Harry May for the Mullard Valve Company. Hulton Getty Picture Collection. Nick Yapp. Legend has it, that the robot shot the inventor.

Basket: From the film, Around The World In Eighty Days, United Artists, 1956. David Niven and Cantinflas were in the basket. Michael Anderson/Kevin McClory/Mike Todd. Cinematography by Lionel Lindon. George Rinhart/Getty. Cut from 50 Years Of The Movies by Jeremy Pascall, WH Smith 1981.

Andrew and Charles Windsor, now King: ‘Gaining their parachutist’s wings during the Easter holiday from Gordonstoun’ c1978. Coloursport. Cut from Britain In The Seventies by Ronald Allison. Book Club Associates, 1980.

Jarrow Crusade: In October 1936, 200 men marched 300 miles from Jarrow to Westminster to protest against unemployment and poverty. They brought with them a petition requesting the re-establishment of industry. It was received by the House of Commons, but not debated.

Achtung! Sie Verlassen Jetzt West-Berlin: The image, from which this sign is taken, is the copyright of the family of Richard Bissell, who was a CIA officer. He was an administrator of the European Recovery Plan in Germany, after the Second World War. Cut from The American Century by Harold Evans, Jonathan Cape, 1998.

Four More Years: From an image (Charles Nye, 1972) of Richard Nixon electioneering in Ohio, just before the full scope of his Watergate involvement was revealed.

Wet Paint: David McEnery, 1975. Mirror Group.

Maggitun Devastation For Kent: Maggitun didn’t really catch on as an alias for the Channel Tunnel. From an image of anti-tunnel protesters in Folkstone. QA Photographs, the Channel Tunnel Group Ltd. Cut from Breakthrough by Derek Wilson, Century, 1991.

Tow Away Zone: From the film, Manhattan by Woody Allen. United Artists, 1979. 50 Years of the Movies by Jeremy Pascall, WH Smith 1981.

Britain Awake: Fascist banner.

Caution No Swimming: Banksy, 2005. Bathing Lake, Hyde Park, London. Lasted three and a half weeks. Cut from Banksy Wall and Peace, Century 2006.

The Batchelors: 1922, Getty.

Face of the Enemy in Kabul: State Britain by Mark Wallinger, 2007. Brian Haw’s banners recreated.

Reserved For Pastor: William Lovelace, 1961. From a photograph of two men sleeping in the pastor’s car park during a siege of the First Baptist Church in Montgomery Alabama, by a white mob of three thousand during the night of 20th/21st May, 1961.

The End of the World is Near: David McEnery, 1975. Mirror Group.

Peace: From a photo taken en route to a Women’s Peace Congress in the Hague, April 13th 1915. Jane Addams, Emmeline Pethick-Lawrence, Annie E Malloy. Possibly Mary Heaton Vorse and Lillian Kohlhamer. Bain News Service. George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress. The American Century by Harold Evans, Jonathan Cape 1998.

Gone to Morroco with Hilton: From a picture of Sarah Lucas and Tracey Emin by Carl Freedman, 1993. It’s the one where they are standing in the doorway of ‘The Shop’ on Bethnal Green Road, London. The sign is painted above the door. Don’t know who Hilton is, and neither does Google. If I ever meet Tracey or Sarah, it’s the first thing I’ll ask them. Cut from Artrage by Elizabeth Fullerton, Thames and Hudson 2016.

Bands Won’t Play No More: Quote from Ghost Town by The Specials/ Jerry Dammers. 2 Tone Records. BBC 1981. Stitched in honour of Terry Hall (1959 - 1922) who died during the making of this piece. Also, I now recognise areas of London in the video, which I didn’t know in 1981. Why must the youth fight against themselves? Particularly poignant at the moment.

Smash Thatcher: Cartoon drawn by Christopher Madden, who read my Observer piece, then saw his work stitched to my work at the RA. He said, 'Well, this is an interesting way to get one's work into the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. Draw a cartoon of Margaret Thatcher in 1979 in her Iron Lady/ Mad Axewoman persona. Have the cartoon picked up by the Socialist Workers Party for placards and posters. Have the placard redrawn by other people for their own personal placards. Have one of those copied placards printed in a newspaper somewhere. Have that print used in a montage in an artwork in the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition forty-five years later. Thanks to Alison Aye for her excellent choice of montage material. My own attempts to get into the Summer Exhibition have always been a failure. Shortlisted a couple of times but always fallen at the final hurdle'.

Consett Steel Workers’ banner. I grew up in Spennymoor which is 14 miles from Consett, and very similar. Nobody in my hometown liked Thatcher. I’d never knowingly met a tory until I moved South. Northern Echo. Cut from Memories of County Durham in the 1980s, in association with Love Darlo.

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to All: State Britain by Mark Wallinger, 2007. Brian Haw’s banners recreated.

First National Coal: Betteshanger Colliery, Deal, Kent. NCB, 1st January 1947. 100 Years in Pictures by DC Somervell, Odhams Press.

The Magi of Chaldea (Wise Men): Priest-Astronomers who gave names to the stars. Odhams Wonder-World of Knowledge by JA Lauwerys, RL James and Brian Vasey-Fitzgerald. There’s a long list of possible illustrators: Carlo Alexander, AE Barbosa, Laurence Bradbury, Royman Browne, AH Burvill, Gaynor Chapman, David Cobb, Neville Colvin, H Connolly, Gordon Davies, Rowland Davies, Bruce Drysdale, Barry Evans, EI Ford, Grace Golden, LG Goodwin, Harry Green, LS Haywood, W Hobson, Peter Horne, William Kempster, P Kesteven, R King, Richard Leacroft, Joan Martin May, N Meredith or C Newsome-Taylor.

Please note that I do not reproduce physical images to stitch, but use already printed materials. The paper comes from discarded books, newspapers, magazines, calendars and the like. Most of the books I cut are beyond repair, the rest are beyond my respect.

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

Homage To Delaunay

A recreation of the cradle cover Sonia Delaunay made for her son, John, in 1911. The original (copyright, Centre Pompidou) was shown as part of a 2015 Tate Modern exhibition. I was completely bowled over by its beauty.

I used fabrics of sentimental value, as did Delaunay. Each piece of cloth was once worn by my family and friends. For example, the darker green is from the jacket my daughter wore on her first day at school. Coincidentally, this is the same day I started working at the National Portrait Gallery, and the more vibrant red is from my old uniform.

19. Homage To Delaunay

Hand stitched textile

20 x 15cm unframed, 33 x 27.5cm framed

Framed by Jacob at The Framing Room using sapele and museum grade glass.

Photo by Ian Bruton.

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

Damien Shamien

It’s about my mam’s massively subservient nature, and how she expected the same of me. Her dying words were that I must iron my dad’s clothes nicely. “Make sure yer dad has a nice crease in his pants.” His home is a four-hour journey from mine.

Made at my parents’ house during Lockdown, where I took care of my mother in the final eighteen months of her life. I was unable to return to my husband and children for fear of bringing germs to my mam and dad, who had a stroke the week after my arrival.

I accidentally became their carer. It’s the closest to hell my privileged life has ever taken me. I lost my employment, and my mind, into the bargain.

Rarely leaving the house, I had no art materials. The background is one of my mother’s napkins, and the lettering is cut from my father’s handkerchiefs.

I’m making fun of Damien Hirst’s success, and my lack of it. Inspired by his shark sculpture, ‘The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living’. Mam was in her final weeks of life, lying motionless on a hospital bed at home, where I was nursing her. Her death was imminent and inevitable, but seemed impossible.

I carry the guilt of being relieved when she died.

39. Damien Shamien, 2021

Hand-stitched textile

35 x 35cm unframed

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

Is This A Landscape?

Made at my parents’ house during Lockdown, where I found myself living, in what turned out to be the final year of my mother’s life. She was diagnosed with inoperable cancer, just before the pandemic, so I went up North to see her.

A week after my arrival, Dad had a stroke. I was unable to return home to my husband and children, for fear of bringing germs to my parents. I accidentally became their carer and lived with them for eighteen months, losing my employment and my mind in the process.

Rarely leaving the house, I had no art materials. I used whatever I could find. The background is made from my Dad’s old shirt, which Mam will have washed and ironed hundreds of times, and the trees were cut from prescription bags, of which there were many.

33. Is This A Landscape? 2021*

Hand stitched paper to polycotton shirt

11.5 x 44.5cm unframed, 19 x 52cm framed (by The Framing Room)

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

* It was made in 2021, but I stitched 2020 by mistake. One of many stitch-related mistakes I was making at the time. My head was all over the place. I decided to leave it.

Unseated

Made as a response to Claire Mort’s Brave Pants project.

I like cutting Picasso, and I thought it would be fun to pull Fernande Olivier out of that chair and give her some knickers. She looked so miserable.

An artist in her own right, Olivier was the daughter of a married man and ‘his mistress’. Raised by an abusive aunt, who arranged her marriage, she fled to Paris at nineteen, changing her name so her husband couldn’t find her.

Picasso (“Each time I leave a woman, I should burn her”) used to lock her in the studio.

54. Unseated, 2022.

Hand-stitched paper/canvas collage.

46 x 37.5cms, framed*

Body cut from an image of Femme Assise (Fernande Olivier) by Pablo Picasso, 1908. Oil on canvas. 150 x 100cms. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg (below).

Big pants cut from an image of Kate Moss wearing a leotard by Julien Fournié. Mert and Marcus for Paris Vogue, 2011.

Feet of Kate Moss. Shoe designer unknown (any help much appreciated). Mert and Marcus for W magazine, 2005.

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

*Framed by Ming, 29 Chatterton Road, Bromley. Oak and 99% UV glass.

Please note that I do not reproduce physical images to stitch, but use already printed materials. The paper comes from discarded books, newspapers, magazines, calendars and the like. Most of the books I cut are beyond repair, the rest are beyond my respect.

I Have No Thoughts On This Matter

I Have No Thoughts On This Matter, 2020.

Hand-stitched textile.

35cms x 35cms, unframed.

Private Collection.

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

It’s about ‘good girls’ putting up and shutting up.

‘I have no thoughts on this matter’ was my mantra during 2020. At the age of 53, I had moved back to my childhood home, sharing a bed with my mother, in what turned out to be the final year of her life. I left my husband and kids and went 300 miles north. A place where I am undervalued and underestimated. Everybody else's time is more valuable than my own. It was expected of me, and I did it, losing both my jobs, pretending it didn’t matter.

For the 18 months I was there, hand stitching kept me on the right side of sane.

As always, the materials are recycled.

A friend was binning the tea towel, describing it as embarrassing, the way the middle-classes do.

The orange and blue are my husband’s old clothes.

The blue, a shirt I remember him wearing at my cousin’s wedding. I was a Bo-Peep inspired bridesmaid. The evening cèilidh was a riot. We laughed and danced our socks off, except Mr S, who sat on the side-lines, unable to make a fool of himself.

The orange, boxer shorts I bought on Christmas Eve 1991, from the Next near Charing Cross Station, London.

The red fabric, used for my signature, is an old National Portrait Gallery uniform. I worked there for 12 years. Undervalued and underestimated. The date next to it was cut from Amnesty International Magazine, Issue 206.

I Have No Thoughts On This Matter is now available as a limited edition print. The original was bought by a French woman, which I took as the greatest of compliments.

Photo by Ian Bruton.

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024.

Majorca '79

Majorca ‘79 was inspired by Man Ray’s portrait of Max Ernst. A photograph (photographer unknown), of me, hand-stitched to a tea towel, is about my reluctance to reconstruct my life after twenty-five years of marriage, but also about my first time abroad at the age of twelve. My nana took me to Majorca, where the photograph was taken. She was drunk every night and a horrible racist.

Majorca ‘79, 2023

Photograph hand-stitched to tea towel

62 x 47 cm, unframed

Copyright: Alison Aye, 2024