Handmade Blankets as Fine Art

Welcome to the warm, nostalgic world of painter Cindy Rizza

I recently came across a new favorite artist on Instagram. Cindy Rizza is a New Hampshire-based artist who paints richly detailed renderings of nostalgic items made or used by humans. Her recent works often showcase handmade blankets resting on chairs that have been placed either in a sunlit, wooded setting or in front of a vague, muted background. Each painting is meticulously executed to capture the textures of yarn and fabric, as well as light and shadows. These details also encourage a close-up, sustained inspection by each viewer.

My close inspection gets me thinking about why we’re here in front of this painting.

Why these handmade blankets? What unifies them?

They’re all handmade and definitely not trendy. The color schemes are dated. The quilts show some frayed edges, indicating that the blankets have been well-used, indicating they’ve provided comfort and shelter for many years.

Why is a pile of heirloom blankets on a chair outside?

While you might use an old quilt as a picnic blanket, you wouldn’t regularly use any of these outdoors.
The green wildness of the outdoor wooded setting (brightly lit, probably at the height of summer) contrasts with the controlled precision of the handwork on the blankets. The chairs are dated in appearance, showing some signs of wear (e.g. sagging cushions) but no damage.
The juxtapositions of inside/outside and precision/wildness are unexpected and create an energetic tension that captures attention. For instance, you’ve seen granny square afghans on the back of couches countless times- you probably won’t pause to contemplate the next one you see. But this pile of blankets on a chair outside? What’s that about?

Why is the empty nest sitting on a doily? Why is the leaf perfectly aligned with the deck boards on which it rests?

To paint a fallen nest or leaf in the grass doesn’t evoke a human presence, but when that leaf is sitting on wooden boards, it’s clear that a human has been here.

The blankets are worn and familiar. If you don’t make blankets like these, you probably have some from a grandma or aunt. These show up in antique stores, estate sales, and thrift stores. (It always makes me a bit sad to think about the women who spent hours making these now-abandoned blankets.) The subjects in the painting are a mix of quilts and knit or crochet afghans. The patterns used are standards that have been popular for many decades: granny squares, stockinette stitches, nine-patches, wedding rings, flying geese, cathedral windows blocks and more.

When I spend time with this painting, I see the time and attention that someone put into its creation. Works like these can take anywhere from tens to hundreds of hours. These blankets fit in well with traditional conceptions of women’s work. Hand-worked pieces can easily be put down and picked up whenever other more urgent needs arise (like kids or cooking). Expensive equipment and materials aren’t necessary (though it’s definitely possible to spend extravagantly on equipment and supplies for both). The effort results in items that are useful, beautiful, and frugal.

In the May/June 2023 issue of frankie magazine, we learn from Rizza that the blanket paintings started by accident:

“My blanket-stack paintings happened somewhat by accident. I had folded them on a chair one day to keep them out of the way; I was struck by the juxtaposition of colours, patterns and textures. They were visually exciting, but they also spoke to me as a ‘stockpile’ of comfort.”

She explains why she’s drawn to paint these subjects:
“It is more profound to me to paint something human by illuminating something material, rather than painting faces.” As you browse her work—from her blanket stacks to empty aluminum lawn chairs and vintage bedsheets lying on the grass—you are reminded that someone was here, someone was cared for, but they’re not here anymore.

As a crafter, this work reminds me of the significance of our work or what our work means to culture. We are making objects of beauty, shelter, and comfort. We want these to be used- we love that a quilt gets softer the more you use it. Though often wear indicates neglect, the age and wear of these blankets tell a story of security, care, and comfort.