Quilt National beckoned, and I responded. Unfortunately, photos aren't allowed, so I've got pictures of the Dairy Barn instead. (I also have the book, Quilt National 2009: The Best of Contemporary Quilts, but it wouldn't have hurt my feelings to have my own shots of the quilts.)
I flew to Columbus from Spokane on Saturday and drove down to Athens the next morning. When I arrived at this dairy barn in the middle of near nowhere (and just down the road from Ohio University), I expected to find quite a bit more fanfare. I just flew across the country to see these quilts, so I presumed everyone within a hundred miles would be lined up to get in as soon as the doors were cracked.
Not exactly.
Not only was there no fanfare, there were no cars. I was a few minutes early for the opening time, but surely whoever opened the doors would be there a few minutes early to gaze lovingly at the art alone.
Nope.
A car scooted into the parking lot from one direction and a second from the other direction just as the clock passed the minute the Dairy Barn was supposed to open. One woman trotted over to the gift shop entrance, and the other made a quick path to the main door.
I tried to stay out of the way as I figured there would be serious security measures to be disarmed. If there were, I missed them.
Opening involved unlocking a door and walking down a short hallway into the exhibition room, formerly the location of the milking when the dairy barn served its original purpose. The volunteer took her place behind a small counter. I fumbled in my purse for my wallet. The entire exchange was completed in a moment.
I was nearly levitating from the excitement I felt. This was my first Quilt National. I'd never even been to a juried exhibition of contemporary quilt art, and I'd only seen one small show. I tried to look only in one direction so I could be surprised by the other view when I turned around.
I asked the volunteer how long most people stayed. She said she thought some people stayed as long as an hour. (As long as an hour? What?) I couldn't then, and still can't, imagine staying only an hour unless it was one of several visits.
When I'm not so sleepy, I'll write about the quilts themselves. (I don't have pictures, but I took notes!)
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