Crafts – Articultures

Allow Nothing to Worry You

The recent exhibition at Gallery 16 in SF of work by Inez Storer and her late husband Andrew Romanoff presented a touching and bittersweet journey through time and place. Titled Allow Nothing to Worry You, the show pairs Storer’s unique brand of Magic Realism with Romanoff’s quirky and whimsical works.

A larger-than-life photograph of the pair greets viewers upon arrival, a mural-sized enlargement of a scene at the couple’s bucolic home in Inverness. Romanoff, a dashing figure in a striped shirt and ascot, is on the right, while Storer, an intense and vibrant figure on the left crackles with energy. But the punctuation point is where their hands are gently joined in a tender clasp.

Storer is the more sophisticated artist of the pair. Her formal art education included studies at Art Center Los Angeles, San Francisco Art Institute, UC Berkeley, Dominican University, and SF State, where she obtained her master’s degree. She taught art at SFAI for many years, as well as at Sonoma State, SF State, College of Marin, and numerous other colleges and art schools. She also ran the Lester Gallery in Inverness, while teaching and raising a blended family of six kids.

Allow Nothing to Worry You Installation Shot all photos courtesy Gallery 16

Storer’s work pairs an unerring eye for color and composition with a wicked sense of humor, filtered through a lens of social and political conscience. Drawing strongly on narratives inspired by found objects, iconic subject matter often includes romantic female imagery, Matisse-inspired flowers and still life objects, references to world politics, and environmental issues. With such a busy life and household, the fluidity of the collage medium enabled Storer to create her art when the opportunity presented itself.

Romanoff’s personal history has a strong intersection with that of modern civilization, as great nephew of Tsar Nicholas II, deposed and executed by Bolsheviks in the Russian Revolution, one might say in his case “the personal is political” is proven true in spades. He grew up in Great Britain, on the grounds of Windsor Castle, in a place with the beguiling name of “Frogmore.” While not allowed to consort with the royals, they did occasionally bump into each other in the garden. After serving in the British Navy in WWII, as a young man, Romanoff moved to the States at the encouragement of his cousin, he subsequently had to learn to fend for himself using his wits and his strength to get by.

Andrew Romanoff, New Boy at School, Acrylic paint and pen on polystyrene mounted to spray painted panel, 5.5″ x 6.75”

Inez and Andrew met and fell in love, introduced by the cousin, Igor, who lived in West Marin, and the rest is history. They raised a large blended family in Inverness. Andrew discovered his own artistic talents, and became focused on the medium of Shrinky Dinks®, a children’s craft material that reduces in size when baked in the toaster oven, one which seemed somehow well-suited to convey his unique memories and impressions of the world around him. The company provided him with a lifetime supply. (More information on Andrew’s life and work is found on this site at Remembering Andrew Romanoff.)

Inez Storer, *Telepathy*, 2023, Mixed media on panel , 24” x 36”

Storer had grown up in Los Angeles, with her father, who worked in the film industry, offering her a look at the backlot and underbelly of the glittering fantasies of the silver screen. Forties era films, with their glamorous women, suave men, and convoluted plots, inflect much of the aesthetic of the work. Her multi-faceted dad was also a pilot, and his international adventures add another layer of complexity to the work. Even more significant was Storer’s discovery, as an adult, that she was not, in fact, Catholic, as she had been led to believe. During a time when it was dangerous to admit, her family had hidden its Jewish faith from even its own members.

Inez Storer, *The Ordinary Life of Natalia Ortiz*, 2010, Oil paint and collage on panel 52” × 40”

The Ordinary Life of Natalia Ortiz (2010) makes a statement about the lives of all women, how behind the calm facade of a “normal” woman’s life there are always buried secrets, hidden intrigues, loves lost or found. A box of letters, purloined from her neighbor’s garage, set the stage for a narrative about one of these clandestine affairs, their flowing script sets up a lovely collage element on the lower edge of the canvas. A beautiful, mysterious woman stands in for Natalia, while her elusive suitor emerges from the upper edge of the canvas. A bit of detective work yields the result that a woman named Natalia Ortiz was, in fact, a 40s-era film star from Mexico.

Andrew Romanoff, *A Day at the Races*, 2004, Acrylic paint and pen on polystyrene mounted to spray painted panel, 9.5” x 9.5”

A Day at the Races (2004) suggests one of Romanoff’s iconic scenes from childhood. Here, a young lad in a stroller implores his father to push him faster, echoing the racetrack scene behind him. Scenes from Andrew’s own childhood, many included in the book The Boy Who Would be Tsar, published by Gallery 16 in 2006, have a particular poignancy that is well-suited to his chosen medium of Shrinky Dinks®. In other images, like 9 Second Limit No-Ogling Law (1995), the childlike drawing in juxtaposition with a mature theme feels more loaded; as Storer remarked, “Andrew had no filters.”

Andrew Romanoff, *No Ogling*, 1995 Acrylic paint and pen on polystyrene mounted to spray painted panel, 10.5” x 10.5”

The mingling of romance, intrigue, royalty, Hollywood movies, Pop art, and naive art blend and intermix to create a fantastic world of illusion firmly grounded in reality and personal narrative. Like many great celebrity pairs, say Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, the duo brought out the best in each other; obviously Storer, a strong-minded woman, is no femme fatale, and Romanoff, who worked as a laborer and craftsperson much of his life, had a nuanced presentation. But, yes, he exuded a royal presence, and the pair together created a gestalt of grit and grace that was unstoppable. It seems as if their symbiosis shifted back and forth as needed, with one providing a rudder of stability when the other began to veer off course.

While Romanoff’s work remained largely a hidden talent outside of the Bay Area, Storer’s work has been widely acclaimed. They enjoyed traveling, in particular making several memorable trips to Russia, where Andrew was greeted by many as the sole surviving heir to the monarchy traveling incognito. Storer completed a remarkable series after one trip, conflating experiences of the thin veneer of normalcy and elegance being at the time displayed in certain settings—the Russian palaces they toured—and her early assimilation of the concept that the glamour of Hollywood was really all just paste.

Gallery 16’s presentation is a welcome tribute to the amazing lives and work of these two remarkable individuals. Romanoff passed away in 2021 at the age of 98, but Storer remains vibrant and active to this day. At Storer’s talk with Griff Williams near the end of the exhibition’s run, she commented that it was good Andrew had not lived to see Putin’s brutal invasion of Ukraine, while the pair both feared such an eventual outcome, it would have made it no easier to take. With dry humor and unfailing deftness, each in their own way has made an indelible mark on the Bay Area art scene.

Barbara Morris

Allow Nothing to Worry You closed in May at Gallery 16, SF.

https://gallery16.com/

Inez Storer, *Fear*, 1992 Oil on panel 18.25” x 15.75”

Rosie Lee Tompkins: A Retrospective

Those of us fortunate enough to have seen the recent exhibition of Rosie Lee Tompkins remarkable textile works at the Berkeley Art Museum may count our blessings. We have, so far, survived the global pandemic of COVID-19, and the alarming delta variant currently bedeviling us. BAM has reopened, and is once again presenting exhibitions, including this unusual and groundbreaking show that was extended after the shut-down brought it to an early halt. Eli Leon and Larry Rinder both recognized the talent and vision of this unique woman. And, it all began with Tompkins herself mustering the stamina and tenacity to bring her visions to life.

Before diving into the work itself, heralded by Roberta Smith in the New York Times as “one of the century’s major artistic accomplishments,” let’s consider the journey of Rosie Lee Tompkins. Born Effie Mae Miller in Gould, Arkansas, like so many Blacks living in the south in the early 20^th century, she chose to leave that locale—rife with rampant racism, Jim Crow laws and wanton lynchings—for less hostile lands that would presumably offer more opportunity, to the north and west. A part of the Great Migration of over six million African Americans, Effie Mae migrated through Milwaukee and Chicago, eventually to settle in Richmond, CA, a few miles north of Berkeley.

After the dissolution of an early marriage, Effie Mae Howard was at liberty to pursue her calling, along with various pursuits designed to earn a living, such as working as a practical nurse for convalescents. But it was her crazy quilts and pillows that were her true love. Her eye for color and composition garnered significant attention, and sales, eventually allowing her to quit her other jobs. Like many artists, Tompkins was challenged by some personal demons, and suffered a nervous breakdown in her 40s. Deeply religious, she belonged to the Beacon Light Seventh-Day Adventist Church, and her abiding faith sustained her throughout the rest of her life, suffusing her work with an intensity and energy that is undeniable.

*String* (1985) detail. Detail shots of Rosie Lee Tompkins’ work taken by the author.

Entering the show at Berkeley Art Museum, one comes to face the spectacular String (1985) of velvet, velveteen, and chenille backing. While most of Tompkins’ quilts don’t correspond to size of a bed, this one does—a large bed. With long, curving stripes in dark, predominantly cool colors, the bands of fabric thrust upward, then take a strong arc to the left. Its strong symbolic presence suggests a flag, while shades of purple, black and gray, lend it a solemn feeling. The mood is set for not just an entry, but an ascension.

It was Tompkins belief that her artistry was a gift from God, and her work was created in support of healing and spiritual life, for herself as well as that of her friends and family. She was a very private person, and it was with Bay Area based collector and champion of African-American quilting Eli Leon’s strong encouragement that she eventually allowed her work to begin to be exhibited in the late 1980s, with the adoption of the pseudonym Rosie Lee Tompkins offering her a layer of anonymity. Leon’s bequest of some 3000 quilts to BAM makes theirs probably the largest collection of African American quilts held by any museum.

Across the entryway another striking work hung, Untitled (1970s with embroidered scripture added mid-1980s). A central figure depicting Jesus is surrounded by other squares of found embroidery, mostly floral. A wise owl sits sideways above, and a kitten with a yellow bow sits near upper left corner, with shisha cloth adjacent. These two works near the entry, String and Untitled embody the major directions that her work would follow. The first, the abstract vein, places an emphasis on color relationships, geometry and the rhythms of an improvisational design technique. The second, the pictorial quilts, are eclectic melanges of patterns and imagery, ranging from religious iconography, botanical elements and wild patterning to sheer unadulterated kitsch. One might wonder what Clement Greenberg would make of these. Surely, the 20^th century formalist critic might find them a hard sell.

A finished quilt consists of three layers, the sewn-together top pieces, a layer of batting and a uniform backing cloth. Tompkins primarily constructed the top-pieces, with the actual “quilting” left to to others. It is also interesting to note that often she did not specify orientation and that left to curators

Untitled (1984) displays a tropical motif, including fabric printed with word “Hawaii” hibiscuses, palm trees and other floral elements. Untitled (1986) incorporates faux fur and leopard/exotic cat prints in some traditional quilt patterns, rapidly morphing into randomness and chaos. It is Tompkins’ particular method to this madness that is one of the riveting aspects of the work, we may follow her mind processing the ways in which imperfections in one shape, say a square or “half-square,” better known as a triangle to non-quilters, will impact the subsequent shapes and arrangements that she will devise. She chose not to measure the components as she cut them, instead allowing the variations in size and shape to lend a distinctive and quirky element of randomness into the mix.

In the beautifully-produced exhibition catalog, there are three thoughtful essays. Former BAMPFA director Lawrence Rinder’s places the most emphasis on this improvisational aspect, finding in it close parallels to the work of 20^th century jazz musicians, particularly John Coltrane, as they sought to forge a unique style for their art form, severing it intentionally from any Eurocentric roots. Early on in her essay, Elaine Y. Yau, Andrew Mellon Postdoctoral Curatorial Fellow and exhibition co-organizer with Rinder, acknowledges “the inequities of power, as well as reciprocity, that are always at play when artistic outliers enter the mainstream.” She focuses on the enduring significance of the craft aspect of Tompkins’ work, coupled with its significance in a fine art context. Curator and art historian Horace D. Ballard contributes his thoughts on Tompkins’ spiritual nature and enigmatic qualities.

Untitled (1986) is constructed entirely from recycled denim, squares containing pockets set up an insistent design and rhythm, in an homage to her grandfather Zebedee Bell and other farmers and laborers. Nearby, Untitled (2003) consists of found and repurposed neckties in various fabrics, a smaller work. These two works show a kind of formal and thematic discipline that gives them a tighter focus, and sets them a bit apart from much of the other work.

In a vitrine are a number of reliquary-like bottles, encrusted with ornate trim, baubles and bangles, suggesting shrines and totem objects. The abundance of pattern and texture begins to have a bit of a hallucinatory effect, with the intensity of the artist’s focus pulling us ever closer in to her mysterious inner world. BAM has included over 70 of the artist’s quilts, which is a little overwhelming at times—given how dense and complex each one is. With a visual overload of texture, shape and imagery, this abundance allows us to fully appreciate the scope of her work, her devotion to her craft, and the obsessive nature of the work.

In the rear gallery are several quilts with a color scheme of complimentary yellow/orange and purple. Tompkins called this the three sixes combination, an allusion to birthdates, her own, 9/6/36, as well as those of relatives, that contained the number six. Works such as Thirty-Six Nine-Patch (Three Sixes combination) (1999) offer simpler designs of squares of varying sizes, once again, pieced together with a system combining logic and chaos, straight edges and meandering lines that go askew. The vibration is overall harmonious, as we may sense the feeling of solidarity and support she derived from belonging to this connected group.

A section near the end of the exhibition highlights the Pictorial Quilts, many of massive size, which incorporate found images, embroidered or printed, including dishtowels and t-shirts. While critical attention has in general favored more abstract quilts—one may also recall the praise for the geometric works the quilters of Gee’s Bend—Tompkins more narrative works are crucial to present the scope of her unique passion. A trio of these, each Untitled from 1996, hang adjacent to one another. Stereotypical images of ethnic types, such as Native Americans, some with feathered headdresses, and exotic Spanish dancers, recur in the work. Whether this was a critique of racist imagery is unclear, perhaps more likely is her omnivorous appetite for symbols of all kinds to invigorate the work, although a more pointed intent is certainly a possibility.

In one, Jesus Christ and cherubic angels hover juxtaposed with a childish print of race cars, next to an embroidered calendar/dishtowel embellished with kittens. Stripes of red and white fly above a star-spangled blue field. A red scrap with turrets bears the phrase “Souvenir of Moscow.” The word Hawaii appears with a parrot nearby. Tompkins creates a kind of a multi-cultural tropical melting pot of sweetness laced with pain, and disconnect.

Another Americana-themed piece features John and Bobby Kennedy flanking Martin Luther King, iconic symbols for the civil rights movement of the 60s, interspersed with flags and squares of red and white, along with large swaths of a bucolic, pastoral print in sepia tones evoking a serene colonial scene. The third Untitled (1996) work featuring sports stars, basketball and football players, offers a confrontational image of O.J. Simpson surrounded by text asking “Who framed OJ Simpson? 100% innocent. Not guilty.” Searching for irony here is no doubt misplaced.

While the wall-hung works are predominantly flat, several notable works contain Tompkins’ version of fabric “donuts,” puffy circular forms created by gathering the edges of a round piece of cloth. These range from a joyous piece Untitled (1995) with brilliantly-hued donuts scattered on a field of kelly green, to a stark elegiac work, Untitled (2005), all in black that concludes the exhibition.

Rosie Lee Tompkins’/Effie May Howard’s work combines energies and forces largely beyond our comprehension in a remarkable collection of quilts that have taken on virtually a life of their own. Whether their status as art world icons, and Tompkins’ as a standard-bearer for a new atmosphere of inclusivity in museums and galleries, would have been something truly desired by their maker is likewise unknowable. As it stands, we may enjoy and celebrate the opportunity to experience the world through the eyes and mind of this truly visionary woman.

Barbara Morris

Rosie Lee Tompkins: A Retrospective closed at BAMPFA on July 18, 2021.

https://bampfa.org/program/virtual/rosie-lee-tompkins-retrospective