The door into the gallery space didn’t make for a grand entrance. Its handle was small and golden, with white paint crudely dusting its edges, like a lazy landlord’s handiwork the day before a new tenant moves in.
It creaked as I entered, ducking my head as I walked through its small frame. The room was ghost-quiet, until I stepped on the white floorboards that glistened under the overhead lighting fixture. All the blinds in the space were closed, and no natural light could enter. I could hear the rhythmic dripping of the Brune B500 humidifier burbling in the next room.
Three massive quilts hung on the walls – one draped directly in front of me, one on each flank. The one facing me was a deep navy blue, emblazoned with a pinkish-off-white geometric design.
It reminded me of the Scary Maze game from my childhood, and I instinctively braced for Regan’s grotesque green face to jump out at me, grinning.
To my left, an uneven quilt, one side dangling just a few inches above the glossy floor.
This one was noisier.
Titled Housetop, it was a joyful composition made up of repurposed fabric scraps, ranging from stars, stripes, and polka dots to elephants, birds, and bees.
Its creator was Rita Mae Pettway, an 84-year-old quilt maker from the rural community of Gee’s Bend, Alabama. With only a couple hundred inhabitants, Gee’s Bend is nestled in a horseshoe of the meandering Alabama River, isolated from nearby towns through limited communication services.
“This exhibition is a first time for Ireland and a first time for IMMA,” says Georgie Thompson, co-curator of exhibitions at the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA).
“The place name is derived from Joseph Gee, the planter and enslaver who established a cotton plantation there in 1816,” she said. “The people in the area have elected to retain the name Gee as a form of resistance and reclamation – instead of doing away with the name Gee’s Bend, they’ve retained it.
“In 1845, that land was purchased by Mark H. Pettway, who was also a planter and enslaver… [now] the descendants of formerly enslaved people bear Pettway’s name as part of their own – many are unrelated but have the same name.”
She continued: “Quiltmaking in the Gee’s Bend area has existed for five generations, and the skills are passed down through familial lines – often from mother to daughter.”
I could feel that familial connection as I stood within the walls of IMMA. The exhibition consists of four small rooms, each containing the work of a mother and daughter pairing from Gee’s Bend.
“It’s quite a simple but structured plan – each room should have a representation of work made by a mother and her daughter,” Thompson told me. “But it’s not just mother and daughter,” she continued, “it’s a wider community of family and friends that help teach the different generations.”
Quilting in Gee’s Bend was originally born out of necessity, a way to stay warm in homes that lacked heating. Now, I stand in the stillness of a former hospital wing in Kilmainham, gazing up at their work which is now considered “fine art”.
I asked Thompson about potential parallels between Gee’s Bend and Irish textile traditions: “The most immediate reference is a link with quilt making in Derry because it used to be home to 44 shirt factories. The quilt makers were often getting remnants from the shirt factories… and there are some beautiful quilts in the Ulster Museum. Kilmainham and the Liberties were also hugely important in terms of the textile industry in Ireland,” Thompson said. “There’s Weaver’s Square and The Tenters in the Liberties.” Thompson also referred to Kilmainham Mill, near the museum grounds, which has been unoccupied since 2000 and is due to be redeveloped.
The old flour mill overlooking the Camac River turned to textile production at the turn of the 20th century. “Gee’s Bend, as it happens, is also on a river – I think that’s interesting,” she noted.
I wondered how IMMA balanced showcasing these personal historical artefacts as fine art: “I think they can be both,” Thompson said. “I don’t think being a historical object precludes you from discussing fine art.”
The room has the novel smell of your grandparents’ house after school, it’s inviting, warm, and homey. Two large empty fireplaces sat in rooms three and four, begging to be lit.
It was half past two on an overcast Thursday, and the gallery space was mostly empty, with only a lone worker and the quilts on the walls as company.
Zig Zag hung on the wall of room three.
It was the only quilt on display that was made of cotton and velveteen, which gave its navy and red tones a rich and shimmering glow. It looked like someone had blended the Scottish flag, then cut Santa Claus’ hat to ribbons to garnish vertical blocks of deep ochre.
Bricklayer looked like two dusty Giza pyramids flirting against the desert dusk.
Plastered on the walls of every room is a black hand with a definitive cross going through it – do not touch. A selfish part of me wants to ignore the warnings, rip a quilt from the wall, and wrap myself in it as I run home.
“Textiles have provided the space to express more personal matters – to depict the biographical, emotional, and psychological,” Thompson told me.
The quilt Grandpa Strips by Mary Lee Bandolph is a blend of old clothing worn by the children of her eldest son.
“She has observed in the past that old clothes have a spirit in them,” Thompson said. “It’s all really practical, but at the same time has this huge biographical element.” She continued: “These quilt artworks are a testament to resilience, community, and a legacy woven through generations. In some ways, you could also start to think of the quilts as being portraits because they have all this biographical content in them.”
It was the perfect space to take in the art and craft of the quilts as they were, divorced from the physicality of the outside world but remaining in conversation with the people who made them nearly 4,000 miles away.
The impact of the Gee’s Bend quilts is being felt across the art world. Their seminal exhibition debuted at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, in 2002, and since then they have been shown across the world.
“There’s been quite a lot of contemporary exhibitions of the Gee’s Bend quilts, but also of artists referencing [them].” Thompson said.
In 2023, an exhibition titled The New Bend took place in New York, in what Thompson called “a homage” to the artwork of Gee’s Bend.
“Their impact has been felt and will continue to be felt… and it’ll be interesting to see [what happens] in Irish terms on a local level.”
“That idea of challenging hierarchies of art making and what is perceived as being art,” Thompson said, “craft always has that challenge ahead of it – but that’s what ultimately gives it its power.”
I left the gallery space through the same small door I entered, the handle still golden, the floorboards offering up one last groan as I stepped outside.