I don't recall how my work came to the attention of the Pittsburgh, PA architect Jules Labarthe, but at some point in 1980 he contacted me on behalf of his firm, The Design Alliance, and its client, the Waltham (MA.) Federal Savings & Loan. The bank was under construction in the center of Waltham, and the planning for its interior finishes and features was in progress. Would I be able to do a large work for a wall in the bank's customer service area? Several smaller commissions in the previous couple of years had prepared me for a project on a grander scale. I said yes. Having recently moved into the Somerset Village, MA home that offered a dedicated studio space with a reasonably large working wall, I felt well equipped to take on a fairly ambitious project.

I didn't belabor the theme. The north-facing prospect afforded by my studio windows put nature very much front and center, and so I would satisfy an impulse to interpret the cycle of seasons, just like nearly every artist before me. Nothing original in that, though the medium – fabric – and the methods – machine and hand sewing – were, at the time, unconventional.

Clockwise from top left, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter as viewed from my northward-facing studio at 258 Old Colony Avenue in Somerset, MA. Our three-quarter acre corner lot afforded ample space for a vegetable garden and perennial borders, and in those first years of home ownership we gave as much development time as we could afford to that outdoor space. In the twenty years we occupied that home, I never tired of the view out onto the back lawn and garden.

The maquette for THE SEASONS was done in colored pencil on paper mounted on board, with some collage elements added when I felt a few adjustments were needed. The architects had provided swatches of the wall covering and upholstery fabrics, as well as the rug for that area, and a sample of the wood finish of the furniture that would occupy the space. Once I'd submitted the maquette and had the client's go-ahead and the initial deposit, I launched into the work. It would be the first commission I'd complete in the new studio, a workspace made possible by successfully securing our first mortgage. Indebtedness is a great motivator, and the commission's timing couldn't have been better.

In 1999, for a large retrospective of my work marking my 25th year in the quilt domain, we framed the maquette that I'd managed to hold onto. It still sits here in my present studio, a daily reminder that the work of art has always been, for me, the path.

The Winter section of THE SEASONS segueing into Spring on the wall of my Somerset, MA studio in January 1981. The approved commission maquette lies on my worktable with assorted fabrics. Behind the working wall, through the door at right, was a darkroom that I'd give up in 1990 when we launched the construction of a major addition to that home that would include a much larger studio.

Completed in late summer 1981, THE SEASONS stretched 176 inches across (14 ft. 8") and was 54 inches high. I machine-pieced it using solid and printed cottons, some satin acetate, and some cotton velveteens, and I hand-quilted its entirety. The $6500. I received for the work in 1981 is equivalent to about $22,000. in today's dollar, accounting for inflation. So, a reasonable price. I was very satisfied. The setting offered excellent public exposure, and the quilt's successful completion and installation had promotion value for future commissions.

Installation photos by Susie Cushner.

And then...in 1996, the bank carried out a major renovation of their interior spaces and once completed, there remained insufficient wall space to accommodate THE SEASONS. There was an exchange about the possibility of my creating a new work for the space, but it didn't move forward. My records indicate that the work "entered a private collection," and beyond that I've never had more information. A rumor came my way via a member of The Quilters' Connection of Arlington, MA, that the piece had been separated into parts. The notion settled badly, nightmarishly to be honest, and I've hoped ever since that wasn't the work's ultimate demise. To this day, whereabouts unknown.

My impulse is to get up on my soapbox and spiel about "les droits d'auteur", the rights of authorship, but I'll resist. Artists don't have this kind of protection in the USA of 2024, as they didn't have in 1996 or 1982 or at any point preceding. I'll stop here, resisting the impulse...