Laura Drey

MotherArt: Revisited is a Chicago-born collective that spreads its roots cross-country and internationally. We are setting a precedent in the way mother artists are collaborating and working remotely to create art that is unique, educational, and inspiring. We strive to address the social-political issues that mothers face today. We aim to interrupt and intervene through installations, exhibitions, and written work.

In the summer of 2017, MotherArt: Revisited debuted with the installation “Interruption”, which featured work that focused on interrupting the status quo. In the Summer of 2018, MotherArt: Revisited launched its first journal issue, which features the poetry, prose, and visual work of the group’s members.

LONDON, ENGLAND – November 2019

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – September 29th - October 19th, 2019

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS – July 13th, 2019

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS – February 16, 2018

APRON

This apron was a handmade gift given to me by my mother-in-law shortly after I was married. When my children were little, they would often help me cook in the kitchen. They loved wearing the apron. The children felt cooking was a fun experience, and being in the kitchen was playtime. I never really liked wearing the apron because it always made me feel uncomfortable and inadequate. Why did I have to do the cooking? Why the pressure to conform to the notions of domesticity as defined by others?

The apron was a kind gesture of familial acceptance. It represented the domestic skill, wisdom, and tradition that she was sharing with me. Something passed from her mother to her and now to me. Even so, this symbol of love and domesticity seemed to mock me. It represented many unrealistic expectations for me as I debated working full-time or staying home to be a stay at home mom. Wearing the apron, I felt forced to do something or be something I didn't understand. 
 
For 22 years, I've had an ambivalent relationship with this apron. It has taken me a while to wear it comfortably and regularly. I have grown into my own wearing it unconventionally, working at the art table and in the kitchen, because invariably, I'm also cooking and cleaning or painting and drawing. 

I miss my apron. I miss cooking in it, I miss making art in it, and I miss going back and forth from the stove to my studio in the kitchen nook. I miss the three perfectly sized pockets: the one for my M & M's, the other for charcoals and pastels, and the one that held a roll of white artist tape. 

Currently, my apron is part of Mother Art: Revisited's clothesline installation. This apron is something so profoundly personal to me, exhibiting locally and internationally alongside works created by other mother artists. Through my work with Mother Art: Revisited, I get to present the apron to the world—billowing proudly, hanging quietly, exposed on a clothesline. 

Folding Clothes

Folding Clothes is a participatory performance that creates a space for developing networks and modes of expression on the role of domesticity in the home today. This universal chore of folding clothes provides an entry point for men, women, and children into the discussion of domestic labor. It offers opportunities to speak out and ask questions; what and who activates the domestic roles in our homes? What is the value of this kind of labor? Folding Clothes, quite literally, brought the dining room table and the laundry room right to the gallery. Along with it– the presence of the home often left behind at the gallery, representation of family, children and all of the complexities that follow.  

The pile of laundry consists of all kinds; work clothes, unmentionables, delicates, washcloths embroidered with phrases such as “You have his smile”, dinner napkins that carry the voice of a child asking “Are we going to nuclear war?”, mismatched socks, bed sheets, knit blankets, children’s clothing, school spirit wear, carefully preserved baby clothes, even a warm basket of teen clothing fresh from the dryer. It parallels the differences in how men and women use language and patterns regarding domestic acts, and how they shift ground in dialogue with one another. It gives rise to new ideas and ideologies on attitudes about work and family. 

Many of the conversations stemming from the performance became about something more than the simple task of folding clothes. During one of the performances, a participant shared about why he rolled his clothes instead of folded them. It was because there was such limited space and furniture, always sharing a drawer. He said, “we had a large family and very little space. Always living in cramped apartments– we were poor and work was hard to come by for my parents and we didn’t have much. He continued telling me about how even now, as an adult living on his own he still rolls his clothes. He said, “I do well financially and I’ve got plenty of space, so there is no need to continue, but I still roll. Now it just makes organizational sense.” This task of folding clothes became a vehicle for intimate sharing of differences and experiences on gender, class, and domestic labor.