Love Sonnets from Shakespeare to Baltimore is a project using  Shakespeare's sonnets, recycled wedding dresses, quilts and original printmaking to create finely crafted couture art books.   The primary inspiration for this project is literary: I am fascinated by the fourteen-line structure of  Shakespearean sonnets.  Composed of three quatrains and a couplet,  the poems are structured like logical arguments about emotions influenced by love and hate. 

The secondary inspiration for this project is fashion history: I am interested in historical textiles and their social, economic, and cultural significances.  Through the re-fashioning of wedding dresses from the 1930s to 1970s into new book pages, I re-examine how we experience textiles.  Through the convergence of  literature and fashion, the project is both a multi-sensory response to Shakespeare and a contemporary social commentary.

The artistic style of the work can be described as deconstructionist couture.  The fabric of wedding dresses is cut, dyed, painted, manipulated, and collaged with other historic textiles into new patterns and designs that allow the material of the pages to speak.  The final look of the pages is very clean, purposeful, and has a fit-to-measure feel.  The connection to my community is emphasizd through the use of traditional Baltimorean quilting, embroidery and intricate needle work techniques.

The carefully screen printed sonnets gain additional layers of meaning on the book pages.  The text is complemented by my linocut prints and screen prints.  The pages move from one voice to many, offering multiple readings to a wide range of audiences. 

One of the textiles I received was a woman's garment from Northern Africa.  I imagined her story based on these news stories and "it was our only hope" and created All I Have.   

All I Have 

My seventh son is all I have.
We must go to land that doesn't 
birth grenades. What good is fertile
soil when Earth knows only graves.

Blessed is the garden of Eden
Our Eves are kidnapped
before they know apples.

My seventh son is all I have.
We must go to land that is dry and calm.
They burn our breath as we pray.  

Gorillas teach apples the secrets of war.

We heard the crash, then the waves.
Please blow air into his lungs,
my seventh son is all I have.
- Suzanne Coley

A work of art is a refined and intensified form of experience.  Working with African textiles from the National Museum of African Art Library allowed me to use finely hand-woven and hand printed fabrics of the past and turn them into new stories.   All of my books contain stories or information that I believe are culturally and socially significant.  Marrying the book form to textiles as page material, elegantly argues that fabric doesn't just have to be wearable, but that it too has stories to tell, and has a past worth sharing.  The history and stories behind the vintage textiles are essential components of the handmade books.  They  add extra layers of meaning that can be quite personal: Using fabrics that are personal to the author, unique to a particular culture, and/or relatable to the reader again fuses the material form of the work to its meaning and adds complexity to the work.

During my year-long project working with African textiles from the National Museum of African Art, I had the opportunity to speak with scholars from the Congo, Benin, and Nigeria.   It was one of the most amazing experiences as an artist to see how art historians view the artistic process and the final art piece.   

Poem for Primary Lessons
New primary school curriculum
lots of biology lessons.
Last week we dissected spinal columns
24 true, 9 false vertebrae.

Cicadas, he said, so many of them come out
at the same time that all the birds eating 
them get full and leave the rest alone.

"Predator satiation," my teacher explained.
A defense mechanism.

Doesn't work with all predators, I guess.
Today they opened my teacher's throat
for all to see.  The whole school was
commanded to come out at the same time.
All the guns shooting us never stopped.
Play dead.
- Suzanne Coley

Please visit my blog for details.

The fine vintage velvets and rare hand-loomed linens in See Us are innately tactile and relatable.   The fabrics move and mold themselves in the hands of the reader.  Even people who never or rarely work with paper will recognize the textures of fabric from their own experiences.  It was important to preserve the history and story behind each piece of fabric while creating new stories.  Please read more about the project in my blog.

Poetry for See Us
Doctors who crossed barbed wire borders
told me to write my story.  Perhaps if others knew
what was going on here I . . . we would get help.
Help.  Ease.  Alleviate.  Assuage.

I search for the right words with my limited 
vocabulary.  How do I say, "Take that 200lb
man off my 12 year old body without that 
gun breaking my front teeth?"

How can anyone undo the damage.
Fix all of these broken bodies.
Revive souls already in Psychopomp's arms.
Palliate.  Temper.  Diminish
- Suzanne Coley

Asymmetrical Zeal is part of a larger year-long project that was inspired by African textiles I received from the National Museum of African Art Library.  One of the textiles I was given was beautiful, but couldn't be printed on.  It resisted every paint, ink, stain, and dye.  I was amazed at its durability and strength.  During one of my visits  to the museum I explained that I couldn't really work with the fabric, and it was different than anything I had ever seen.  One of the curators told me that it had been woven with the thinnest strands of copper.   Copper gave it its beautiful shine and made it tough.  

With this in mind, I created Asymmetrical Zeal.  I wanted to show the strength of the textiles.  Please read my blog post for more information.

This mixed media textile book project was inspired by African textiles I received from the National Museum of African Art Library.  Goats is an exploration of the inextricable ties between man and the environment. In desperate times, how do people find hope and inspiration? For more information on this project please see my year-long blog posts.

(Mother and daughter are on the side of a road cleaning windshields.)

Don't spray so much cleaner!  I pay money for it, you know.

Why do dragonflies come out of mudbugs, uh, you ask?

Because they think they are better than everybody, that's why.  Because they don't want to be working at this truck stop cleaning windshields all their lives like us.

I told that boy: Nothing good will happen if you try to make it to Europe.  But no, he wanted "normal life."  He wanted Sweden.  So he spread his wings and made it all the way to Algeria.  Was beaten and robbed three times along the way.  All so that he could drown in the sea.

At least they don't send dragonfly mothers pictures of their squished son
- Suzanne Coley

King is part of a larger year-long project inspired by textiles I received from the National Museum of African Art in October 2016.  When I received the textiles I did a lot of research on the origins of each textile.  During my research I came across the Mende of Sierra Leone.  I became fascinated with the Mende helmet mask and the ideals this mask conveys.  Worn by only women, this mask has a broad forehead representing the sharp, contemplative mind of the ideal Mende woman.  The mask also has a bird on top that symbolizes a woman's ability to see and know things others don't.  I visited the National Museum of African Art to see the Mende helmet mask in their permanent collection.  The story of King is inspired by my visits, the textiles, research, and current events:  What if a little girl dreamed of being King? 

Please read my blog posts for more details.

Poetry for King
when i grow up i want to be king
with body guards dressed in red
on horses with royal names
shielding me from bullies
no more broken bones

when i grow up i want to be king
like the one on postcards my teacher
sent me: King Goerge VI
i don't care about castles, a mud brick 
house will do.  i don't need electricity
i see through darkness

when i grow up i want to be king
to have a team of doctors, 
to take care of my whole family.
to stop my brother from throwing up red.

when i grow up, i want to be king
when people see me, they will say hello
even if the sun isn't shining.

when i grow up
     tell them to water
the hurt
       grow i,
                        girls can
be
            girls can
be
          i,  kings
                                  when
- Suzanne Coley

For more than twenty years, I've been creating art that seeks to bring healing and change by examining what it means to be human.   My original poetry accompanied with paintings and innovative printmaking techniques have allowed me to explore human emotions of our time, and to capture human imperfections and strengths.