Embroidered Sampler c. 1937

Vincent P. Rosel created this embroidered sampler sometime between 1855 and 1995, and right away, I'm thinking about artmaking as a process of accretion, the slow adding of thread, one stitch at a time, to build up this surface. It’s all about texture here, right? The flat ground of the fabric, punctuated by these raised, almost topographical forms. The stitching is so precise, especially in the lace-like doilies scattered around the composition. I love the way the colors are both vibrant and muted, like old dyes that have faded over time. Look at the central flower arrangement; notice how the density of the stitches creates depth, a kind of three-dimensionality that pops against the flat weave of the background. It reminds me of Gee’s Bend quilts, where simple materials are transformed into something visually rich and conceptually complex. Maybe it’s a reach, but I see echoes of Klee’s playful mark-making in the way Rosel balances control with a certain folk-art looseness. Ultimately, it’s a testament to how art embraces endless possibilities.