Chloe Bartram
I thought it would be roses
Exhibition Details: Artist Statement, Installation Description, Love Letters and Object Description
Artist Statement
I thought it would be roses offers an opportunity to examine personal reflections of
womanhood. Having been raised on the stories of love often found in fairy tales, it
began with me wanting to speak with women about their sexual narratives.
Collaboration began with a desire to understand firsthand their experiences and to
facilitate a more open dialogue that gives us permission to talk about gender and
sexuality. It aims to expose the bias apparent in the taboos and societal untruths
surrounding female sexuality while discussing the greater ‘collective
consciousness’. Through tapping into this collective experience, the installation
interrogates a gendered sense of self or identity, and how this is connected to a
woman’s sexuality. The work explores experiences felt and not always
acknowledged.
These love letters give the participating women right of reply. They draw attention
to narratives and experiences that are often ignored or skewered in the
mainstream consciousness. The sharing of knowledge is incredibly important to a
project like this where stories are shared. This has been further emphasised by
bringing together a further group of women to sew the letters. The fabric speaks to
the veils we must wear and gives form to the experiences we embody, but that
never fully show who we are. I thought it would be roses pays reference to the
history of women’s fibre art and the stories we have told through cloth for
generations. The needles left in some of the work act as a final stroke of defiance;
her weapon of choice.
In part it was my mother, Margaret, who was the catalyst for undertaking this
project; she has lived these women’s stories. I acknowledge the women who
shared with me, the women who sewed with me and the women whose support I
rely on. Thank you to Andrew Christie for his time and woodwork.
The participants found the process a cathartic one. For some, they carried the
burden of an experience they never wanted. Should you also share in this you are
invited to pen your own ‘love’ letter to continue the work. You are welcome to sit at
the sewing table, once used at Heathcote Hospital, at the back of the space and
place the letter through the slot at the front of the wooden box below. The box has
no other opening and will hold your stories for you.
Installation Description
This is a description of I thought it would be roses installation in the Project Room at Goolugatup Heathcote. The main light in the room is turned off and all windows have block out blinds on them. The objects in the room have been softly spot lighted.
As you enter the room to your left is a large wooden box, placed on a white plinth. The box is 45cm high and 35 cm in width and depth. It is made from Western Australian Jarrah and is unpolished. I wanted the rawness of the craftmanship on display. There is a very thin opening on the front side of the box for love letters to be placed in. This opening is purposely obscured. The box has no other openings.
If you continue following the wall around you will find two of the embroidered love letters. There are six in total. Two are hung from the picture rails on the left-hand side wall and four are suspended in the centre of the room from the ceiling. The words are embodied with standard black thread. They are pulled tight on an embroidery hoop which is round in shape. The hoops vary in size between 30 and 40cm. The fabric used is white muslin. Muslin is a loose plain weave cotton material. This is what makes it a little different to the cotton in your clothes. It is light weight meaning it flows and moves with the atmosphere but is thick enough to not be translucent the fabric length varies between one and three metres across the love letters. The excess fabric hangs from the hoops and is gathered in some areas to give the objects body and shape.
The text on these love letters is:
Dear First Love,
Losing my virginity to you was painful and awkward. I had sex for you and that is how it always was with us. You would come over after work and say if we had sex then we would cuddle. But you were always tired and went home. You made sex one sided and never gave me a chance to express myself. A part of me will always love you.
Love,
(A needle has been left below the text).
Dear love of my life,
I met you just after I escaped the fire.
My life had been under attack.
I was burnt, blistered and bleeding.
And suddenly there was you.
A gift. A reward. A blessing.
Throughout the pain and suffering
I told myself that the best was yet to come,
And then I met you.
All my love,
If you go back to the entry and turn to your right a tv is placed one to two paces on the floor on an angle in the corner of the room. It is mounted in the opening of a fireplace. It is a video of my mother, Margaret, sewing one of the love letters is played on a 30minute loop on a tv mounted, on an angle, on the floor in front of a fireplace opening. The camera is placed over her shoulder, looking past her hair and face and focus on the needle going over and under the fabric. Her hair sometimes moves with the breeze coming through an open Queenslander home window.
Directly in front of the entry to the space is the four hanging love letters and across on the opposite wall, sitting very slightly to the left-hand side, is a sewing table and low vintage chair. Viewers are invited to move around and through the hanging love letters, there are two on each side and a clear path through the middle. There difference between the hanging objects and the two against the wall is that the back of the hoops are exposed. The messiness and the chaos of the thread is seen showing the process behind the work.
There is roughly six paces to the desk.
The text on these love letters is:
Dear Car Wash Attendant,
I would like to thank you for helping me with the automatic car wash as I had never used one before. I really loved how you let me know you like virgins.
Love,
Dear Fiancé,
The first time having sex after our child I was nervous. I felt like I had to. I wasn’t ready. It was really tender. I just thought ‘it’s been six weeks… should probably do something’. Sometimes it feels like I have to. I am so tired sometimes I would rather not.
It is still good, and I still like it. I think we will get better. It’s still a new thing. I think it is different every time after the baby. We are still kinda getting used to everything.
Love,
Dear Father in Law,
It annoys me that I have to leave the room to breastfeed when you are around.
Love,
Dear Ex Boyfriend,
I asked you about sexual desires thinking it would bring us together. I have a way of putting everyone’s needs ahead of mine. I wanted to have a romantic weekend away to connect. You responded with hiring a motel in a country town so I would not have to wash the sheets after you came on my face.
Love,
(a needle with black thread hang has been left on the artwork)
A medium sized wooden Singer sewing machine desk sits at the back of the room. A very low set antique velvet chair is place in front of it. There are paper and pens placed on the desk for you to write a letter if you like. If you open the drawers of the desk you will find traces of the life it has lived. One day the sewing machine was in the use and the next it wasn’t with forgotten needles and threads left behind.
Love Letters and Object Description
1. Letter Box
A large wooden box made from Western Australian jarrah by artist Andrew Christie. There is a slot to place letters obscurely placed at the top front side.
2. Love Letter #13, Dear First Love
Dear First Love,
Losing my virginity to you was painful and awkward. I had sex for you and that is how it always was with us. You would come over after work and say if we had sex then we would cuddle. But you were always tired and went home. You made sex one sided and never gave me a chance to express myself. A part of me will always love you.
Love,
(A needle has been left below the text)
3. Love Letter #9, Dear Love of my Life
Dear love of my life,
I met you just after I escaped the fire.
My life had been under attack.
I was burnt, blistered and bleeding.
And suddenly there was you.
A gift. A reward. A blessing.
Throughout the pain and suffering
I told myself that the best was yet to come,
And then I met you.
All my love,
4. Love Letter #1, Dear Car Wash Attendant
Dear Car Wash Attendant,
I would like to thank you for helping me with the automatic car wash as I had never used one before. I really loved how you let me know you like virgins.
Love
5. Love Letter #4, Dear Fiancé
Dear Fiancé,
The first time having sex after our child I was nervous. I felt like I had to. I wasn’t ready. It was really tender. I just thought ‘its been six weeks… should probably do something’. Sometimes it feels like I have to. I am so tired sometimes I would rather not.
It is still good, and I still like it. I think we will get better. It’s still a new thing. I think it is different every time after the baby. We are still kinda getting used to everything.
Love,
6. Sewing Table
A medium sized wooden Singer sewing machine desk. If you open the drawers you will find traces of the life it has lived. One day the sewing machine was in the use and the next it wasn’t with forgotten needles and threads left behind. A low set antique velvet chair is place in front of it.
7. Love Letter #8, Dear Father in Law
Dear Father in Law,
It annoys me that I have to leave the room to breastfeed when you are around.
Love,
8. Love Letter #7, Dear Ex Boyfriend
Dear Ex Boyfriend,
I asked you about sexual desires thinking it would bring us together. I have a way of putting everyone’s needs ahead of mine. I wanted to have a romantic weekend away to connect. You responded with hiring a motel in a country town so I would not have to wash the sheets after you came on my face.
Love,
(a needle with black thread hang has been left on the artwork)
9. I thought it would be roses
A video of my mother, Margaret, sewing one of the love letters is played on a 30minute loop on a tv mounted, on an angle, on the floor in front of a fireplace opening. The camera is placed over her shoulder, looking past her hair and face and focus on the needle going over and under the fabric. Her hair sometimes moves with the breeze coming through