written for Make and Meaning by on JANUARY 15, 2010
I watched a great show on telly a week or two ago. Anthony Bourdain’s‘Disappearing Manhattan‘ special highlighted the sad demise of vintage eateries. It celebrated iconic establishments such as Keen’s Chophouse, Manganaro’s Grosseria and Katz’s Deli ( plus several other enduring restaurants). It was a joy to watch. Bourdain was in his element as he lovingly tucked in to the often staggeringly retro menu, commenting more than once about the excellence of curly parsley, the daunting delight of drinking beer from a giant glass boot and the delicacy of the hand carved vegetables’. He was pleased. The meals were really good. Honestly. Not only was the food tasty and proudly channeling 1955, but it was served ‘without irony‘. Which made it even better. Said Mr Bourdain, anyway.
It got me wondering about the ‘contemporary craft’ movement. Isn’t it interesting that many crafters are often pointing out that their particular craft is not like Nanna’s, that it is in fact proudly served with a healthy side order of irony?
Cross-stitched samplers might feature rude words. Perhaps they’ve knitted bountiful boobs onto their poncho. Maybe they’ve crocheted a chainsaw. Someone made an Obama toilet roll cover. Macrame-d moustaches. Days Of The Week Voodoo Dolls. Okay. These things are good too. And ironic. I think.
However, it seems it’s not enough to be merely ironic. We’re being iconic too. In fact we’re being ironic and iconic. We’re stitching old standards like hostess aprons, embroidered pillowcases, quilts, granny squares and potholders. We’re filling our new-style Glory Boxes to the brim, crafting just the kinds of things that our Nannas used to make… but somehow our attitude is different… Because the way we’re crafting them is surprising? Which makes it ironic? Or something…?
This is just the something I was wondering about. Does craft have to be ironic to be cool? And how do we know that the attitude we’re serving up with our nouveau-vintage craft is any different to that of our grandma’s? What’s wrong with being like our Nannas? And who cares about cool anyway? Are we pretending to reinvent the wheel, while we happily and not-so-secretly follow in our Granny’s footsteps? Or are we, perhaps, using our marvellous view of social change over the last 50 odd years to make a statement, making things because we want to and not because we have to or are expected to? Do tattooed people make edgier craft? Is it all about crafting with an element of surprise, then? And does irony and the lack of Nanna-ness make the craft any better?
I know. That’s an awful lot of questions! Where does irony, cool and grandma come into craft? For you, I mean?! Do tell!
xx Pip
