PROFILE
Marita Ganse’s art quilts are all about memories
The model talks about the art of quilting, her time as a furrier, and finding joy in a slow process
Words by TONI POTENCIANO Photos by JOSEPH PASCUAL
In 2018, model Marita Fe Ganse asked her collaborators at Eairth, a local clothing brand, if she could use their retaso to turn into quilts.
Depending on the size of the quilt, it takes Ganse anywhere between two weeks to three months to complete a single quilt. Her largest project to date—abstract quilt 5 “Pandora’s Box”—is for her friend chef Victor Magsaysay’s home in Subic.
“I learned about the community of women that creates the quilts of Gee’s Bend and I was taken by their beautiful geometrically intricate quilts. I knew right away that I wanted to make my own quilts,” Ganse writes in an email.
She’s referring to a historically Black community that lived in an isolated hamlet along Alabama river, whose roots trace back as far as the early 19th-century cotton slave trade. Ferry services to and from the community were only restored in 2006, which meant that the small community of roughly 300 inhabitants lived in relative isolation for more than a hundred years.
But isolation is sometimes the bedfellow of creativity. The women of Gee’s Bend developed a tradition of quiltmaking which was passed down from mother to daughter. The quilts were then a departure from traditional quiltmaking. Gee’s Bend quilts were distinct, known for their “lively improvisations and geometric simplicity.” In 2003, 60 Bender quilts made from 1930 to 2000 were exhibited at the Whitney Museum. The New York Times called it some of the most “miraculous works of modern art America has ever produced.”
In a similar fashion, 36-year-old Ganse turned to quiltmaking during Manila’s strictest lockdowns. She begins with a sketch of the shapes, pinning down the colors and textures she wants to feature in her quilts. Afterwards, each of her quilts are painstakingly handsewn. Depending on the size of the quilt, it takes Ganse anywhere between two weeks to three months to complete a single quilt.
“It is a slow process that I really enjoy and don’t want to rush,” she says.
“I learned about the community of women that creates the quilts of Gee’s Bend and I was taken by their beautiful geometrically intricate quilts. I knew right away that I wanted to make my own quilts,” Ganse writes in an email.
She’s referring to a historically Black community that lived in an isolated hamlet along Alabama river, whose roots trace back as far as the early 19th-century cotton slave trade. Ferry services to and from the community were only restored in 2006, which meant that the small community of roughly 300 inhabitants lived in relative isolation for more than a hundred years.
But isolation is sometimes the bedfellow of creativity. The women of Gee’s Bend developed a tradition of quiltmaking which was passed down from mother to daughter. The quilts were then a departure from traditional quiltmaking. Gee’s Bend quilts were distinct, known for their “lively improvisations and geometric simplicity.” In 2003, 60 Bender quilts made from 1930 to 2000 were exhibited at the Whitney Museum. The New York Times called it some of the most “miraculous works of modern art America has ever produced.”
In a similar fashion, 36-year-old Ganse turned to quiltmaking during Manila’s strictest lockdowns. She begins with a sketch of the shapes, pinning down the colors and textures she wants to feature in her quilts. Afterwards, each of her quilts are painstakingly handsewn. Depending on the size of the quilt, it takes Ganse anywhere between two weeks to three months to complete a single quilt.
“It is a slow process that I really enjoy and don’t want to rush,” she tells me.
Depending on the size of the quilt, it takes Ganse anywhere between two weeks to three months to complete a single quilt. Her largest project to date—abstract quilt 5 “Pandora’s Box”—is for her friend chef Victor Magsaysay’s home in Subic.
On modeling and training to become a furrier
In 2021, Ganse exhibited four quilts at The Den Manila, each piece a play on the tension between colors and shapes. The quilts were created between August to September of that year, around the time the second enhanced community quarantine was imposed. “Each stitch is connected to a moment, a breath, a story,” she writes on Instagram.
Filipina-German Ganse has been living in Manila since 2008. She became muse and model of choice for many high fashion editorials and runways, walking for Tippi Ocampo, Jojie Lloren, and Rajo Laurel. She also frequently modeled for small, slow fashion labels like Rô, Eairth, Áraw, and Josanna. But before her life in Manila, Ganse was training to become a professional furrier.
“I studied fur design in Germany and worked with a couple of fur designers at the same time back in 2004 until 2007. I only stopped when I moved to Manila in 2008,” she recalls. “I started with small modeling jobs when I was a teenager. The fur company I worked for just asked me to model whenever there was an event or for their lookbooks and press releases.” “Before the pandemic, everything was so fast and busy that I wasn’t aware how much I enjoy doing things slowly, and how satisfying the effects of it are.”
After more than a decade of professional modeling, I ask Ganse what it was that made her stay in such a high-pressure industry. She replies that maybe she shouldn’t have. “To be honest, I should have followed my own instinct not to go into modeling for that long,” Ganse writes. Ganse listens to audiobooks while sewing, a better alternative than music, she says, “Because then I don’t end up dancing and abandoning my quilts.” Video courtesy of artist.
Ganse listens to audiobooks while sewing, a better alternative than music, she says, “Because then I don’t end up dancing and abandoning my quilts.” Video courtesy of artist.
Early in 2020, Ganse launched Kostüm V, a selection of archival and vintage clothing she describes as “clothes she sees herself wearing.” While she quietly continues to curate the selection, her vintage collection also figures in her art quilts.
“Sometimes I buy secondhand clothes just because of the quality the fabric has, or the fabric is telling me something,” Ganse says. “I like how a textile becomes soft after many years of use and how the color changes. The DNA and story a piece of used clothing can tell is so interesting.” Textiles as art
Marita’s process begins with a sketch of the shapes, pinning down the colors and textures she wants to feature in her quilts. Behind her on the kitchen wall are sketches of some her latest works.
The intersection of textile and creative disciplines became newly visible under the Berlin-born artist and designer Bauhaus master Anni Albers, whose textile tapestries were a stark contrast to the glass and steel sculptures of her modern contemporaries in the ’60s. She challenged the notion that weaving was merely women’s work, likening weaving to sculptures and architecture. In the ’70s, African-American Faith Ringgold created her famous “story quilts,” which combined oil paint and quilting techniques to tell the stories of African-American culture and to push for civil rights.
The more contemporary fiber artists have embraced the possibilities offered by the slowness and tactility of textiles in art. In an article with the NY Times, textile artist Sophia Narrett had this to say about her work: “When an object is developed by human hands for hundreds of hours, it leaves a quality in the surface that can be sensed.”
Ganse’s latest work is called “Midnight Water City,” which is part of a six-woman group exhibit at Futur:st called “Dwell on Divinities” that opened on March 23. According to Futurist co-founder Samantha Nicole, the show highlights “the otherworldliness of women, non binary, and queer artists.”
“Midnight Water City” is a mix of linen, cotton, cupro, and silk. A row of green and blue triangles run along one side of the quilt as a black moon rises on their horizon. A dark blue ripple gradually increases from one side to the other.
“[I’ve learned] that there is beauty in small imperfections. But to be honest, there is so much more I have to learn about myself.”
“[I’ve learned] that there is beauty in small imperfections. But to be honest, there is so much more I have to learn about myself.”
“[I’ve learned] that there is beauty in small imperfections. But to be honest, there is so much more I have to learn about myself.”
“I was thinking about the cold breeze at night, of sail boats moving with the wind, of a refreshing glass of water in the early hours of the morning,” Ganse tells me.
“Midnight Water City,” her latest work, is part of a six-woman group exhibit at Futur:st in Poblacion, Makati. Photos courtesy of Kiko Escora
It’s made with linen, cotton, cupro, and silk sewn together with a special Japanese thread specifically made for boro stitching called shashiko thread. Ganse favors this cotton thread for its soft yet tight twist.
“Midnight Water City,” her latest work, is part of a six-woman group exhibit at Futur:st in Poblacion, Makati.
Photos courtesy of
Kiko Escora
It’s made with linen, cotton, cupro, and silk, sewn together with a special Japanese thread called shashiko thread—which Ganse favors for its soft yet tight twist.
“Before the pandemic, everything was so fast and busy that I wasn’t aware how much I enjoy doing things slowly, and how satisfying the effects of it are. It clears my mind in a way, and helps me to find a tender way to tell stories.”
When I ask Ganse about what quilting has taught her, she tells me that it has been a lesson in enjoying the slowness, to see a quilt through without obsessing over the small details.
“[I’ve learned] that there is beauty in small imperfections. But to be honest, there is so much more I have to learn about myself,” she says. ●> Part I of III of Nolisoli.ph’s Women’s Month SpecialFor Women’s Month 2022, we interviewed three artists whose works explore the intersection and possibilities of gender and creativity: Marita Ganse on the artistic value of “women’s work;” Jessica Dorizac on juxtaposing forms, layering meaning; and Shireen Seno on mapping the self through filmmaking.
FEATURED QUILT
“Half Light Of Dawn”
Linen, cotton, cupro, double gauze backing,
polyfiber wadding, sashiko thread
211cm x 211cm
2022
On display at The Drawing Room as part of group show “The hem of a long conversation” curated by Con Cabrera Written by Toni Potenciano
Cover photography by Joseph Pascual
Creative direction by Nimu Muallam
Art drection by Levenspeil Sangalang