Narrative Embroidery

A couple weeks ago, I drove to Columbus Ohio to see an exhibit at the Columbus Museum of Art.

PETERSBURG IL  to  COLUMBUS OH 

411 miles

Yup, a day out, a day back, and a day in Columbus.

It was worth it.

The object of my journey was Fabric of Survival, a collection of 36 embroidered panels worked by Esther Nisenthal Krinitz.

In 1939, when the Nazis invaded Poland, Mrs. Krinitz was 12 years old, living in Mniszek, a village of a dozen or so families, mostly Jewish, in central Poland, with her parents, her older brother and her three younger sisters. After several years of increasing atrocities against them, the Jewish families of Mniszek were evicted from their homes and force-marched to their deaths. Esther and her next younger sister, Mania, escaped by fleeing into the forest.

In 1977, fifty years old and living in America, Mrs. Krinitz turned to her skill with needle and thread to tell her story. The result is this series of 36 embroidered panels. To say they tell the story of her survival is true but inadequate.

Her daughters have put together a video and a website, showing the panels and telling their memories of their mother and her stories. Both pictures and video are available here.

The exhibit was doubly interesting to me. I'm an avid embroiderer and, like many older people, I've developed an interest in history, especially recent history. But seeing this particular work in person had the same effect on me as when my daughter took me to her university dissection lab where I could see the inner workings of our bodies: the details fascinated me, and I became totally absorbed in the how; but every so often, the reality of what I was looking at hit me, and I had to sit down and contemplate the why. The beauty of Mrs. Krinitz's embroidery was a stark contrast to the horror of her subject.

While there were rules against photographing visiting exhibits, the Museum welcomed photography of permanent collections. I loved that right outside this fabulous embroidery exhibit was Renoir's "Christine Lerolle Embroidering."

The exhibit will remain at Columbus through June 14, 2015. The museum is easy to get to -- once you're in Columbus -- and well worth a visit.

There is a small snack bar with a central atrium - a lovely place to eat, read, or just rest. Far from crowded on the day I was there.






 And for those of us with aging legs, there were two rolling racks of folding stools (as well as a number of permanent seating areas).





Making this trip on my own was a significant stretch. When I was younger, I was fearless. I commuted between Chicago and New York City. I drove to Louisiana to help with Hurricane Andrew relief. I drove to Alaska and back. I celebrated my fiftieth birthday in the Yukon.

What happened?!

A friend advised me that as we get older, we should deliberately plan to travel beyond our quotidian boundaries on a regular basis. Now, when I head off, there always seems to be something like a bungee cord pulling me back. The feeling is tangible. Around fifty miles from home (I've clocked it), the feeling cuts loose.

The nice thing about life in this world is that there's always something calling, some new interest to be explored, something to learn. I just have to keep reminding myself to sweat out those first fifty miles.