Archive for the ‘Books’ Category

1000 Quilt Inspirations

Monday, October 26th, 2015


The boy and I were at the library the other day. I saw this in the new books section and stared at it, confused. “Huh. That looks familiar.” Then it dawned on me: “Hey. I think I may have some work in that.”

Indeed, I do.

Sider’s book came out about six months ago, but I’d never seen a copy. The publisher didn’t send courtesy copies to contributors (although they did offer a discount if we wished to purchase one) and for reasons I won’t go into right now, I don’t buy books if I’ve provided content for them. (I could write an essay on the topic. Be thankful I’m not doing so right now.)

Not to knock the publisher, Quarry. I have to figure that publishers in the art quilting world operate on narrow margins, and the cost of sending out courtesy copies to several hundred artists might be prohibitive. Frankly, the artists in the book may comprise a core set of the people who’d be purchasing it anyhow. Still, I have my rules.

It’s really a good book, though. Everyone should buy a copy. Put it on your Christmas list, if you exchange presents at that time of the year.



I was tickled to see that one of my Paisleyfish received a full page spread. I think that piece has been sold off, so it’s nice to see it recorded for posterity.



My flamingo, Suspicion, was also included. (Upper right hand corner.)



So was Waiting for Spring, in the upper left hand corner of this spread. I should put Suspicion and Waiting for Spring up for sale, but the whole business of dealing with business licenses and sales tax gets me down. It’s a commitment unto itself. What I would like would be to hand over my work to someone else, say “Here. You take a 40-50% commission and deal with the taxes and shipping,” and get on with the part I enjoy.



Sandra Sider really did a bang-up job selecting work for this book. Its title says it all – there are 1000 juicy, succulent images. If you need to jostle your brain for stitching or design ideas, this is a great resource. The styles span a really wide gamut.



Some pictorial works, showing renderings of humans.

One thing this book has reminded me of is how fun it can be to work small. The commitment of time and energy aren’t huge, so one feels the freedom to experiment.



Some modern designs. There are also renderings inspired by plants, animals, buildings, and purely abstract arrangements of color and form.

Should I type what I’m thinking now? Sure. Why not. Here’s a confession: I have a very hard time taking pleasure in anything I accomplish, beyond the act of doing it and perhaps helping others or giving them a moment of joy. I’m not sure where that comes from, the constant drive to break my back working and then denigrate any good fortune that comes my way, but I can make some guesses. During the last few months I was in contact with my father, I got in the habit of telling him absolutely nothing about what I was doing. I realized that he was incapable of expressing interest, even the bare minimum of interest you’d extend to someone standing in line beside you at a supermarket. It had been going on for years. I noticed that it was a pattern with my family, the withholding of interest or approval. There was a constant drive to impress others, though, along with a constant stream of insults once the parties were gone.

And, I don’t know what I’m driving at, other than it’s going to be okay. I’m away from that. Maybe I’ll never be able to feel that I deserve whatever good fortune comes my way, but I’m at least learning to take pleasure in others’ good fortune. Other people’s good work or accomplishments aren’t a threat. They’re something to appreciate and applaud or learn from.

I’m lucky to have my work in Sider’s book alongside so many wonderful works.

But is it art?

Saturday, December 21st, 2013

Before I forget, happy holidays to everyone:


This is from this year’s Christmas cards. I should have aligned the text differently for the screen. It looks rather uncomfortable sitting there, left aligned but relating to nothing else on the page. But, you know, lazy. Hand me some spiked eggnog and watch me get even lazier.

I never thought I’d view cold weather as a luxury, but my perspective has changed this year. I spent the fall clambering up and down ladders, repairing and repainting the house. I was out there so long that I became notorious among the neighbors, with the lady across the street repeatedly asking “aren’t you done yet?” and a few women making pointed comments about having “a man” do something. (Because, I don’t know, maybe the dangly bits act as ballast so men aren’t as likely to fall off ladders? Surely there’s some logical reason for specifically suggesting “a man” beyond sexism?)

For their part, men would stop by on their walks and chat companionably about ladders and air compressors. “Yep, that’s a GOOD ladder you have there,” one elderly man wheezed, “My son-in-law, his ladder wasn’t good. He fell off, got hurt really bad.” They would often bring dogs along, so I got sniffed and licked by many neighborhood hounds. That was nice.

In addition to painting, I sprayed foam insulation in every crack I could find. We had rats in the attic last year. I don’t hate rats, but I don’t want them up in my attic having turf wars and extramarital sex, growing fat on Cheetohs stolen from hapless schoolchildren. I don’t enjoy the whole live trap and peanut butter toast thing, loading bewildered rats in the car and deporting them to distant fields. (Where, no doubt, they’re simply killed by hawks instead of me.) The problem is, rats are smarter than me. Darned if I could tell where they were getting in and out of the house. Although spray foam won’t stop them from getting in – in fact, they’ll snicker at me while they chew through it – maybe the evidence of chewing will tell me where they’re getting in. That would be something. I really don’t want to call an exterminator and have them killed.

There’s more to do out there but – oh dear – cold weather is here! Gosh, I just don’t feel up to shoveling or shredding when it’s thirty or forty degrees out. Nope, I’ll just have to hole up inside until the afternoon, when it warms up a bit. I’ll just have to do inside things.


Things like this, for example. Get yourself some squashed toilet paper tubes, some spray paint, a few red beads from the junk jar in the laundry room, and you’ve got a low rent wreath. Is there anything toilet paper tubes can’t do?

I glued eyelet to the individual panes of the window, too. The yellowed, 1970s-era door curtain finally got to me. It spoke of stained shag carpet, dim rooms, and people chain smoking around a 13″ TV set. It turns out that the eyelet provides a pretty good degree of privacy and lets in a gentle glow as well. If we grow to despise the eyelet, it’ll scrape right off with a razor blade.



Perler beads. Why did I think that we needed TWO LARGE CONTAINERS of fusible beads? We have an energetic male child. I’ve engaged him in craft projects. He prefers to bash things with foam swords and swing from chandeliers. In fact, one of his fantasies is that I’ll build him a zip line with a chandelier hanging off it, so he can simultaneously go down a zip line and swing from a chandelier.

Anyhow, it turns out that if you smear vegetable oil on the inside of a glass bowl, put Perler beads inside, and put the whole mess in the oven awhile, you can make yourself a flimsy, ugly bowl. It’s a far less tedious process than making anything else with these beads. It also is reminiscent of Dominic Wilcox’s War Bowls, which I covet greatly.



Perler bead Minecraft gear. I have no idea why anyone would want this stuff, but my kid was delighted with it. He spent one entire dinner whacking at a roll with the little axe, which I guess says nothing good about the level of etiquette we adhere to in this household.



iPhone microscope. This conversion stand, which includes a lens filched from a laser pointer, allows one to use a smartphone as a digital microscope. I found the instructions over on the Instructables site, courtesy of Yoshinok.

Aside from the phone, the project is incredibly cheap. All it requires is some acrylic, a few nuts and bolts, the lens from a cheap laser pointer, and a chunk of wood. Here we can see the microscope lined up to magnify a dime.



Another view of the iPhone microscope, with FDR’s metal visage onscreen. I should really find a teensy LED flashlight in case we want backlighting. You know – for that theoretical day when I manage to tear my kid away from Minecraft and bashing things with foam swords and force him to inspect the world around us.



Here are a couple of recent print appearances of my work. This one is from the latest issue of International Quilt Festival: Quilt Scene, which had a gallery of some of the work at IQF Houston. My portrait, Under the Ginkgo Tree, is on the left. Karen Eckmeier’s Random Rose Garden is on the facing page.

I appreciate being featured in the magazine. That has to be a job and a half, combing through several hundred works to decide which to show, not to mention the layout and design. It looks as though they tried to feature a wide variety of styles and techniques. I hope that’s inspiring for those who couldn’t make it to the show.



This is from Mary Kerr’s Cutting-Edge Art Quilts, which was published earlier this year. I was happy to see that she and the publisher did a wonderful job. Tasteful layout, interesting information, nice variety in terms of style and technique.

Yeah, that conservative-looking woman in the little postage stamp-sized photo is me. If I had known that photos of the artists would be required, I wouldn’t have submitted work. However, I would have missed out on being in a nice book. I won’t be offended if people who own a copy draw a mustache on my face.



Another spread, this time featuring Creepy Boy, Siesta, and Suspicion. One of my friends squinted at this photo and asked “What’s that pink hairy nipple thing in the lower righthand corner?” Well, thanks. From now on, when I see Suspicion, I’m going to think “pink hairy nipple thing” rather than “napping flamingo”.

It’s good to see Creepy Boy in print. I never submitted him to any shows because I didn’t think he’d be well received. People who see him in person usually shudder and go “ewwww!” However, it’s actually one of the pieces I’ve found most effective.



Whee! I can use a plugin to create a tree skeleton!

Meanwhile, I’m off studying Objective C and Blender 3D.  There are things I want to do.

I’ve missed doing 3D CGI. Aside from some product-related 3D work for advertising, I mostly had to put it aside during the goldrush era, when I was frolicking at one of those infamous Silicon Valley startups. Then there was the whole having-a-baby thing. That period doesn’t last forever, it’s an investment in the future, and I kind of feel one should be present to whatever degree one can. However, it sure can bring other pursuits to a screeching halt, particularly if there isn’t outside childcare.

Time marches on. Kids’ needs for intense, constant attention taper off as they continue down the long path toward independence and adulthood. There’s school, peers, outside interests. I’m now at the point of having to schedule regular outings with my kid, to ensure that the time doesn’t simply ooze by unmarked and that he has memories other than my badgering him about penmanship and multiplication tables. For the parent, it can be like a miniature version of a midlife crisis: “Wow. I have more time. Who am I? What was I doing when this all began? What do I want to do now?”

Well, I miss working in 3D. I miss making my own strange little worlds. I have no idea how or whether my 3D work will tie in with my fiber work or portraits. I’m simply tired of telling myself no. Sometimes we have to embark on a hike into the wilderness and see if it leads anywhere.

On that note, here are some things I’ve been taking on that hike, things I really appreciate:

The Blender 3D Noob to Pro Wikibook
Blender is a marvelously full-featured 3D CGI package, a free one at that. Alas, it has a notoriously quirky interface and can have a steep learning curve.

The people who put together the Noob to Pro book have made the process less hideous, though, by stepping through each feature and obscure set of key commands and providing tutorials. They don’t get paid for their work and have done this out of the goodness of their hearts. Bless them.

Matthijs Hollemans’ iOS apprentice series.
I’ve coded in a wide variety of languages. However, there’s quite a bit of distance between fixing a problem in an emergency, hacking together an ill-conceived application which may break if one sneezes at the wrong time, and writing clean, elegantly conceived code.

Amateurish tutorials and books abound, their covers festooned with claims that they’ll teach you a language “In 24 Hours!” or have you publishing your own gee-whiz apps in no time at all. Many of them contain slapdash code, bizarre variable and function names, and lousy explanations.

Hollemans’ series is far superior to these in terms of clarity of writing, helpful screenshots, and decent coding practices. It’s also saving me the annoyance of having to shower, put on clean clothes, and sit in a classroom to learn a new language.

I’m not a fan of video-based classes. That’s particularly the case if the speaker is a novice in terms of teaching, is disorganized, or is a mumbler. Give me written material and I’m far, far happier. However, CartoonSmart consistently offers a wide variety of inexpensive tutorials and kits on hot or fun topics. Want to get up to speed making giant robots in Flash or get a quick introduction to Maya? They’re a good place to start. Whenever I’m in the mood to try something new or quirky, I scan the classes at CartoonSmart.

Here’s to adventure in 2014!

Cutting Edge Art Quilts

Monday, April 29th, 2013


The word on the street is that Cutting Edge Art Quilts is about to ship. I’m one of the 51 artists featured in the book; I can’t wait to see it.

There have been many, many books published on the topic of art quilts. Galleries of photos, how-to books, the occasional monograph on one particular person’s work. This book is going to be a tad different in that it will include photos, but it will be more about the story and process behind some of the works than a flip-through gallery.

My own story arc – at least, as I submitted the information – is about my first, tentative explorations of portraiture, culminating in the wild good luck of having my first color portrait curated into Quilt National, the first time I ever submitted work to that exhibition. I hope people will find it interesting and be inspired to follow their passion.

Cutting Edge Art Quilts can be purchased either via Amazon or through the website of its author, Mary Kerr.

Mayhem and Art Quilt Portfolio

Tuesday, April 16th, 2013

I have a child. He is currently yodeling while simultaneously bouncing a tennis ball, swinging a dog’s squeak toy, slurping, and bouncing on one foot through my work area. Actually, the yodel isn’t so much of a melodic sound as the noise a sore-throated donkey might make while being goosed with a Saguaro. Still, it’s like having a one-man circus come to town. I’ve paid good money for less entertainment.

I was going to do some quiet, contemplative work, but then again, maybe not. There’s the small matter of being unable to think and, well, one shouldn’t miss out on life’s small circuses.

In addition to the child, I have a list. A very long list. Many or most people do, I expect. There’s something optimistic about a list, about laying everything out in written form. It says “I vow to be organized!” and “I haven’t yet given up on getting it all done”.

I never do, though. Each Sunday, I sit down and review The List Which Shall Not Be Conquered, think about priorities, then pull out four or five things that seem the most important. Some of them get done. Some don’t. For example, for three weeks now, I’ve had “repair dining room sheetrock,” “sign up for CPR refresher course” and “post about Martha Sielman’s book” on the list. Not done. I have, however, worked on the current portrait, given myself hives from pulling weeds out of the garden, and sewn up a hideous little rag doll for my kid, so he can cut up old cereal boxes to make props and reenact his own version of Survivor. I’ve also spent a few minutes per day talking to the neighbor’s dog, who gets incredibly lonely when his humans are at work and mashes his eye up against a knothole in the fence to watch me.

This is what passes for high class entertainment at my house.

Well, let’s go ahead and take care of one of the items, Sielman’s book. I don’t think I’m up to the full New York Times-style review it deserves, but I can probably knock out a couple disjoint paragraphs.

I’ve never met Martha Sielman and I don’t know her. I did get to see her speak a couple of years ago at IQF Houston. She struck me as an impressive person, intelligent and energetic and with a very clear vision. She’s one of those people who gets things done – no being bested by lists for her! – and has done an incredible job of chronicling the current state of art quilting in her various books.

You have a sudden, inexplicable desire to purchase this book. Don’t resist.

Her current volume is Art Quilt Portfolio: People & Portraits. It’s exactly as the title implies, a book chock full of fiber-based renderings of people. There are profiles of twenty one artists and galleries of their work, interspersed with around a hundred images from other artists. (I’m one of the “others” and have some work included in the book.)

The works are stylistically diverse, ranging from the frankly realistic to downright surrealistic, with some mid-century inspired and cubist or highly abstract works thrown in for good measure. The subject matter, as well, spans the gamut. As one might expect, the book makes for good eye candy and is an enjoyable browse for art quilters. I’d think it would make a good reference or tickler for portrait artists in any medium, as well.

As of this writing, Amazon has inexplicably priced it at $10.00, which is 60% off list. That’s about the price of one movie ticket, sans popcorn, or perhaps a couple of coffees and a stale scone at Starbucks. Although the price has inched up a bit over the past few weeks, Amazon is still practically giving it away. I suggest that if you’re all interested in the book or portraiture period, you leap on it. Buy copies for everyone in your family, even. I did.

Art Quilt Portfolio: The Natural World

Wednesday, April 25th, 2012

I received my advance copy of Art Quilt Portfolio: The Natural World about a month ago. I do believe that makes me the last person on the block to write about it!

Why has it taken me so long? An all-consuming project. I started work on the project October 3 of last year, confident that I’d whip it out in a couple of months. Yesterday, the better part of seven months later, I did the last bit of inking. In between there were muscle aches, pin pricks, mistakes and recoveries, despair at wondering if I’d ever finish the dadgummed thing, and now anxiety as I ponder future projects. I’m one of those anxious artists, you see, not happy unless I’m working and nothing is ever good enough.

Not that it matters, at least in the eyes of some. During the past year, I’ve had a number of experiences which have made it abundantly clear that many don’t regard fiber-based art – what I’m creating – as “real” art at all. There’s a paternalistic dismissal of fiber art as a “ladylike pursuit” in the vein of 18th century paper quilling, creating jewelry from the hair of the dead, and harpsichord playing. A fine thing to dabble away at when one isn’t in the kitchen or managing the servants, but not a medium for serious artists. Because, to paraphrase the thoughts of an acquaintance, we all know that a mark made with thread or fabric has inherently less artistic value than a mark made with pencil or paint.

Thank goodness for Martha Sielman. I don’t think she’s unaware of such concerns, unaware of the broad dismissal of fiber works as a kind of pink collar ghetto. However, she seems to simply sweep them aside and render them unimportant. In particular, she’s done yeoman service in chronicling the medium of art quilting. With Art Quilt Portfolio: The Natural World, she’s given us the first volume in an encyclopedic survey of art quilts, with future volumes to cover topics such as landscapes, people and portraits, and abstracts.

This first volume is divided into galleries whose topics include flowers, birds, water, animals, leaves, insects, trees and textures. Sielman has carefully selected works representing diverse compositional and rendering methods, making this both a pleasurable read and a useful reference work. Two or three artists are profiled in depth in each section, with the galleries filled out by the works of myriad artists (including me). I was delighted to see some of my old favorites, including Betty Busby and Annemieke Mein, and to be introduced to artists with whom I was unfamiliar. Here is an excerpt profiling Betty Busby.

Art Quilt Portfolio: The Natural World is available through SAQA, Amazon, and other retailers.

That’s cheering.

Sunday, March 11th, 2012

A local community TV station, KMTV, produced a video about the portion of the Quilt National ’11 exhibit currently on tour in San Jose. This features San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles Curator Deborah Corsini’s enlightening talk about the works, their construction techniques, and the art movements they exemplify.

Here’s the first half of the video:

At 16:13, Deborah Corsini is innocently going about her business when the gigantic head of my piece, Farmer Brown, looms up behind her. Very 1984. At 17:40, Corsini briefly discusses Farmer Brown. My piece is only one part of the show, of course. The work of Susan Shie, Betty Busby, Katie Pasquini Masopus, and many other is also highlighted.

Here’s the second video:

It was very nice of KMTV to make those videos available, particularly given that many aren’t able to travel to the exhibit.

In addition to creating new works and lurking at the museum, I’ve been reading Stephen Farthing’s extensive Art From Cave Painting to Street Art. That’s how I roll. I like to start by contemplating art in prehistory, when our tube worm ancestors were shaping themselves into intriguing-looking fossils, and read up to recent times, when artists are preserving tiger sharks in formaldehyde. Then I close the tome and consider those who make charming prints out of fresh human placenta (not in the book, and link not recommended for everyone) and mutter “what is art?” After this exercise, I return to my own work, reassured that it at least won’t cause cancer or spread disease.

As usual, a few passages from the book caught my eye:

p. 227, Rembrandt
“Rembrandt’s lavish spending, fall in production, and refusal to compromise his artistic principles landed him in debt. He was declared bankrupt and forced to sell his townhouse. The artist was buried in a pauper’s grave.”

Oh dear. A very unpleasant end for a great man.

p. 229, Vermeer
“The outbreak of the Franco-Dutch war in 1672 saw his earnings slump On his death, he left his widow massively in debt.”

Mmm. Not good.

p. 217, Caravaggio
“In the last few years of his life, Caravaggio became notorious for his violent activities. He murdered a man in 1606 and spent the rest of his life on the run in Naples, Sicily and Malta.”

I’m beginning to see a pattern here.

p. 340, Gauguin
“Gauguin moved to Tahiti and painted vivid, primitive works. He attempted suicide in 1897 and settled with a Tahitian girl on the Marquesas Islands in 1901. Sentenced to imprisonment for libel in 1903, he died before starting his sentence.”

I hope this isn’t mandatory for serious artists, the business about mental disturbances or dying a pauper? I’m not in the least interested in killing anyone or settling down with a teenage girl.

p. 336, Van Gogh

Oh dear. I think … let’s not go there today.

Masters: Art Quilts, Volume 2

Wednesday, September 7th, 2011

Periodically, a lifestyle reporter from a newspaper will stumble upon an exhibit of art quilts, a textile-based form which often shares construction methods with the traditional bed coverings. Like clockwork, an article will then appear with some variation of the phrase “not your grandmother’s quilt.” There may also be some reference to blankets and white-haired ladies plying needles, and feigned astonishment that one can create artwork by stitching fabric. (Don’t believe me? Go Google it right now, “not your grandmother’s quilt” and “not your grandma’s quilt.” I’ll wait for you.)

With the recent publication of Lark’s Masters: Art Quilts, Volume 2, we may be in for another round of comments about grandma’s stitching efforts and how they didn’t look nothin’ like the stuff in this book. It’s true: in the main, they probably didn’t. My grandmothers’ bed quilts, although attractive, were primarily made for utility in an era before insulation and central heating. Self-expression and creating artwork either weren’t on the radar for them or were a far distant goal compared to the need to stay warm for a minimum amount of money.

Today, people still make traditional bed quilts for various reasons. It’s certainly an important part of our cultural tradition, and well worth reading about. One of my favorite books on the topic is A People and Their Quilts, which features a series of interviews with old-school quilters in Tennessee and the Appalachians.

However, traditional bed quilts aren’t the focus of the Masters: Art Quilts, Volume 2 any more than a book on oil portraits would showcase house painting techniques. No, one should read Masters: Art Quilts, Volume 2 for a notion of how people are adapting fabric and thread to communicate their personal visions in the form of portraits, abstracts, landscapes, and illustrations. One should settle back in a cozy chair with a cup of tea and thumb through the book for the sheer joy of it.

Now, if you’ve seen any of the other books in Lark’s “500 …” or “Masters of …” series, you already know that this will be a big book with a thoughtful introduction and tons of high quality photos of stunning works. Indeed, this volume weighs in at 414 pages, with profiles of forty artists from around the world and insights into their techniques and inspiration. Although most of the artists are from Western countries, the global focus is particularly compelling; too many books and magazines concentrate solely on artists in the United States.

The introduction by Martha Sielman gives a little overview of the diversity of the artists and their work: “… men and women of different generations and backgrounds with a wide range of ideas, inspirations, and stories.” There are people whose work is informed by classic folk stories, experiences in internment camps, working as circus performers or lawyers. These are artists with distinct styles and voices and well-developed visions, whose works will astonish those with preconceived notions of the medium.

Sielman is particularly well qualified to have curated this volume, given her own background as an art quilter and her leadership role in Studio Art Quilt Associates, a non-profit devoted to the form. For those already familiar with art quilting, the book is a welcome antidote to the tiresome assembly line, paint-by-numbers notions of creating fiber art which one sometimes encounters. Those unfamiliar with the form will find the book a fine introduction to the state of this art, with insightful writing and stimulating visuals. Regardless of one’s tastes, there’s something here to please and intrigue.

Among my personal favorites:

… and many more. Thirty-six more, to be precise. What a pleasure it is to thumb through the volume, learn about an unfamiliar artist (or perhaps be reminded of one I’ve forgotten), then refer to the person’s website for even more details.

It’s a wonderful book. That said, I have one minor complaint, the use of Eplica for the artists’ names and body text:

Eplica is an attractive roman serif typeface whose letter E is rendered as the Greek letter Epsilon. A little individuality can add sparkle to a display face, but it can also grow jarring when used in body copy. So jarring, in some cases, that it begins to interfere with readability. Time after time, I found myself reading happily away, only to bump into that dadgummed Epsilon. What was this character doing in the midst of what was otherwise a very readable serif typeface? Had there been a software malfunction, causing a backwards number 3 to invade the paragraph? The font thus began to draw too much attention to itself, fighting with the photos for attention.

That said, bless the book’s designer(s) for showing restraint by using only two typefaces on a given page, a serif and a sans-serif. This is a refreshing change from a popular art quilting magazine whose pages frequently resemble ransom notes; in one case I recall, a single page featured seven variations of at least four different typefaces. One begins to wonder why the magazine bothers to print artwork; the pages are quite busy enough without it.

Masters: Art Quilts, Volume 2 can be purchased via SAQA, Amazon, and other booksellers.

Artists profiled in the book:

Alice Beasley
Anna Torma
Arturo Alonzo Sandoval
Beatrice Lanter
Bente Vold Klausen
Carolyn Crump
Chunghie Lee
Daniela Dancelli
Dianne Firth
Dirkje van der Horst-Beetsma
Dorothy Caldwell
Eleanor McCain
Elizabeth Busch
Emily Richardson
Fenella Davies
Gayle Fraas and Duncan Slade
Geneviève Attinger
Izabella Baykova
Jan Myers-Newbury
Jane Dunnewold
Jim Smoote
Karin Franzen
Laura Wasilowski
Leslie Gabriëlse
Linda MacDonald
Margery Goodall
Maryline Collioud-Robert
Mirjam Pet-Jacobs
Misik Kim
Nelda Warkentin
Pamela Fitzsimons
Patricia Malarcher
Paula Nadelstern
Rachel Brumer
Reiko Nganuma
Risë Nagin
Rosalie Dace
Shulamit Liss
Tafi Brown
Tim Harding