Artists & Influences
In the book Find Your Artistic Voice, author Lisa Congdon writes, “With rare exceptions, we become who we are as artists because we are influenced by other artists, not despite that fact. No idea is completely original, and being influenced by the work of other creative people and movements is part of the process of finding your voice.”
The concept of finding my artistic voice as a textile artist is complex. While I strive to come up with original designs, in truth, much of my work, especially the earlier stuff, originated from patterns by talented creators whose work spoke to me. This was all very helpful to my start in quilting; I learned techniques about construction, pattern design, and color that I simply didn’t know yet. The old adage - you have to start somewhere - was apropos.
Take, for example, a series of quilts that I made that speak to my Oregon roots. First is a quilt called Sisters Scape designed by Valori Wells. Upon seeing this beautiful design displayed as a raffle quilt for the 2006 Sisters Outdoor Quilt Show, sewn by the East of the Cascades Quilters, I bought the quilt kit and pattern so I could make my own. The instructions gave me my first lesson in foundation paper piecing. As with many creative projects, I started, then stopped, then started again, finally finishing it in 2018.
Partway through the project, an idea struck - to make another one, but use my hometown as the inspiration. In this second quilt in the series, I made several changes to the original design: I added the Portland skyline, featured Mt. Hood rather than the Three Sisters Mountains, and switched the flowers from the spiky flowers (a type of New York Beauty quilt block) to roses as an homage to Portland’s International Rose Test Garden, and our nickname, “The City of Roses.” I included a third evergreen tree to push an asymmetrical look, and added more fish to the river, which I now referred to as the Willamette River rather than the Metolius River of Central Oregon. I finished this quilt in 2017 (before finishing the Sisters Scape version), and gifted it to my son for his 16th birthday.
Another variation of this design called to me, one with a bridge. This third quilt in the series mimicked the design layout of the first two, but without any specific elements from the original design. The Hawthorne Bridge represents the many bridges in downtown Portland, with flecks of rust-colored fabric hinting at the many species of fish in the river. I included text and several “hidden gems” (a piece of my late dad’s work shirt, fabric with musical notation, and 88 roses, a nod to my background in piano and the 88 keys on a keyboard). This quilt, completed in 2023, is a testament to the influence that artists have on one another. We may strive for individuality and our own artistic voice, and yet we are intrinsically connected to other creatives from whom we derive inspiration.
From my perch on a piano bench, I’ve also seen this type of influence across musical genres. I studied classical piano for years, and let me share with you some examples of this crossover between musicians (if you get the chance, look them up online and have a listen for yourself). Barry Manilow, one of my favorite singer-songwriters from my childhood, wrote the music to a song called Could It Be Magic released in 1971. It was inspired by famed composer Frederic Chopin’s Prelude in C minor, Opus 28, no. 20 written in 1839. To play the intro and outro of Could It Be Magic is to play Chopin’s prelude almost note for note.
Another striking example can be found in a song called A Groovy Kind of Love written in 1965 by Carole Bayer Sager and Toni Wine. It was sung by several musicians over the years, perhaps most recognizable being Phil Collins’ rendition from the motion picture soundtrack for the 1988 film Buster. I’m betting that most people who’ve heard this song wouldn’t know that its melody was copied from a classical piece written by Muzio Clementi in 1797 (yes, 1797!). The 18th century song was called Sonatina, Opus 36, no. 5, (specifically from the third section of the song, the Rondo movement). Same notes, same key signature. The one major difference is tempo; Clementi’s version was fast, while the modern-day version was slowed down considerably.
For a more modern example, cue up and listen to the intros of these three songs, one right after the other: Shape of My Heart by Sting (1993), Loveless by American XO (2015), and Eastside by Benny Blanco/Ed Sheeran/Khalid/Halsey (2018). By happenstance, my husband had created a music playlist for a family road trip we took in 2019, in which Shape of My Heart played, followed by Eastside. The two songs, back to back, sounded very similar (even recorded in the same key of F# minor). Ironically, I read that the American XO Loveless creators filed a lawsuit against the Eastside songwriters alleging copyright infringement, but if you ask me, I would argue that Loveless (and Eastside) drew very heavy influence from Sting’s Shape of My Heart, which was written first!
All this to say, artists do not live in a vacuum. Whether intentional or not, drawing inspiration from other creatives is standard practice. It’s what we do with it that matters. Give credit where credit is due. Profit from our own creations and not from the creations of others. Honor our influences, but try to forge our own distinctive style. Indeed, finding one’s own artistic voice is complicated, isn’t it?
#quiltsandkeys