Emily Flint
Inheritance (self-portrait with my grandmothers)
the photograph
A photograph from 1979 or '80, depicting my two grandmothers, Lorraine "Grandma" and Mary Hughes "Mimi," and little me as a toddler, has tugged at me for years. I've painted it in sketchbooks, drawn it on my iPad, and thought about it often. It makes me laugh; it reminds me of my own kids at that age — squirmy and uncomfortable — and it has long been one of my favorite old photos because it shows these two women I loved so much, and who loved me so much. They were very different, Grandma and Mimi, but they always enjoyed each other's company. I think the photo captures their personalities and styles — Grandma's elegance and cooler demeanor, and Mimi's squishy, laid-back love.
Statement
The three figures are constructed from needle-felted wool, hand- and machine-stitching, and repurposed materials — among them, actual clothing belonging to my grandmother Lorraine (on the left), and fabric cut from an ordinary tote bag transformed into a blouse for Mimi (on the right). Skin and hair were colored through natural dyeing processes using black walnuts, hickory nuts, avocado pits, and lichens — materials that are themselves slow, cumulative, and derived from living things. The faces were shaped through additive and subtractive sculpting until they held the right expression: the softness of a grandmother looking down.
The loveseat, seven inches deep, is constructed entirely by hand using discarded cardboard boxes and lots of hand-stitching. It is the ground of the work. A couch is where families gather without occasion, where children are held between adults who love them, where time passes without anyone noticing.
The child squirms free of the two grandmothers, grasping onto each, while dropping into the unknown.
