Stanchion-less, frame-less, cover-less, case-less hangs the Traveling Memorial Quilt in the Block Museum’s exhibition “Keep the Shadow Ere the Substance Fade: Mourning During the AIDS Crisis.”

The large navy backdrop of canvas is decorated with a full-sized leather pride flag in the top left corner, a red AIDS awareness ribbon in the bottom left corner, and six rectangular strips of denim sprinkled throughout the rest of the available space.

The leather pride flag consists of eight alternating blue and black stripes separated in half by a stark white horizontal stripe. In the top left corner of the flag floats a delicately angled red heart barely hovering over the bright white stripe.

The red ribbon is plush, ruched and bundled into its silhouette. The smooth material is abundant and haphazardly poured into its recognizable shape.

The iconography of the piece is clear. Even with the ribbon’s dimensional qualities, both symbols have a construction-paper quality flatness. The color is boldly saturated with sharp edges and straight lines only adding to the solidity of the clean shapes. While one may not have known what the leather pride flag looked like or that it even existed, these two symbols have an unmistakable clarity to their purpose. There is symbolism and history and a carefully constructed meaning behind them and they are there to be seen and heard and learned.

RED for passion

BLACK for leather

WHITE for safety

BLUE for jeans

 

For jeans.

The jean legs look as if they had been spilled on the quilt. A wild Tetris of odd angles and overlapping conversations with the defined symbols of the space. Each light-washed leg is labeled in permanent marker, “LONDON,” “NEW YORK,” “SYDNEY,” “San Francisco,” “BERLIN,” “?” The text is handwritten with different styles by different authors. You can see marks meant to be traced over, an accidental smudge, a stylistic decision, a letter that has been colored twice. The “I” in Francisco is dotted with a heart outlined in red marker possibly on a whim. Its radiating outline bleeds into the black marker while simultaneously emitting a muted glow. The tall capitalized letters are not yelling or shaming but sharing, exclaiming, possibly even reclaiming. The question mark is not looming or haunting but drawn with a touch of whimsy. The curled style does not ask where the next site of the pandemic will be, but instead asks earnestly what can we do? where do we go from here? The faded blue bars of the legs float despite their weight. The edges are wobbly, cut through adversity with loose threads and jagged lines.

These jeans.

The scraps of denim used in the quilt belonged to young men who were infected with HIV across the world. These jeans were the essence of someone- an extension of the body through overuse, unique through experience, faded by style but also through wear, an archaeological artifact from a life’s journey. An accidental narrative through material culture

Clothing has the power to carry a scent, it touches the wearer, it follows where they go. Worn yet durable, faded but recognizable—customized by experience. Not a photo capturing a moment, not a letter capturing a feeling, clothing collects everything it can, holds firmly, and reveals nuances of the owner as regular as habits or as personal as hygiene. It’s denim’s everydayness, its comfort, its familiarity, its approachability, that breaks the distance any symbolism may create. Denim is a universalizer, a common ground, a connection.

Just like the Quilters of Gee’s Bend, the Traveling Memorial Quilt celebrates the everydayness of scraps through a meaningful repurposing, a reincarnation, a savvy life past its first use without abandonment of its history. There is a lovely, unmistakable handmade warmth to the quilt. While its composition is artfully balanced, the execution is far from precise. The pencil marks, marker tracings, loose stitches, puckered edges and glue residue are the hand of the artist. The hand of the artist(s) not like the way you can pick out a Keith Haring swiggle from a mile away but rather in the way a thrift store find reminds you of a memory of your own.

The visible love put into the memorial is not only welcoming but ongoing, an urge for continuity. The piece has the ability to stand alone or become a patch for a much larger quilt.

The beauty of the anonymity in the piece is its openness to everyone, everything, every memory, every loss. There is no desire for possession or recognition or credit or domineering specificity. It’s open for everyone to mourn, remember, respond, and interpret with its simplicity and familiarity. The generous anonymity opens opportunities for projection, memory, and a polyphony of those in battle with those we have lost.

In 1989 the AIDS Memorial Quilt was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. Today it remains the largest community art project in the world.

In the true spirit and tradition of quilting, this piece unifies. The leatherfolk subculture’s choice of denim as a texture had a unique power to evoke memories, share stories, connect others, and represent the durability of those affected by the AIDS pandemic…while first and foremost looking great with leather gear.

In its humble craftsmanship, simple messages, and group effort the Traveling Memorial Quilt makes certain the quilt belongs to all who need it.